tonowarislut

[tonowarislut]

⋆ i was young and sweet, and then something happened.

truck driver!sevika x female!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you're back home after burning out your new york dreams. mississippi has been waiting for you and comes with the old and new—including the delivery driver that frequents your mother's boutique.

cw: truck driver!sevika, female!reader, age gap, older woman/younger woman, reader is in her twenties, modern!au, unresolved sexual tension, slow burn, strangers to lovers, returning to the hometown you worked to escape from, complex mother daughter relationships, non-sexual intimacy, mentions of grief and loss of a loved one, open (but very positive) ending.

notes: i hate this, just a bit. but please, please tell me what you think. send long asks, even. i love them. i love you.

It's the rat that skitters over your foot that sends you home.

You'd just climbed out of the endless well that is the New York subway, steadfastly avoiding eye contact with the man rocking back and forth right outside the stairwell. You feel a sense of shame as you refuse to look at him, a horrible aching feeling that speaks to you losing sight of your roots and where you came from.

Your most recently created playlist was blasting—aptly titled "songs that are what's wrong with me"—when you'd felt it. A heavy brush against your ankle and across the top of your foot. You looked down, almost in slow motion, and watched as the plump body of a well-fed city rat finished its travel across the top of your square-toe black flats.

You resist the urge to scream, cautious of seeming just as crazy as the man you keep refusing to look at. You hear him laugh and it makes you press your lips together until there are only two thin lines on your face. You contemplate dragging your heels out of your bag but you still have at least three blocks to go and you're tired and so sick of it all.

A billboard flashes across from you as you turn the corner: a woman's bright face with bleach-white teeth advertising a new aesthetic clinic that just opened approximately two streets away from where you live. You feel insane.

You open your phone and buy the plane ticket.

On the plane ride home, you dream of Talladega County. 

You haven’t been in years. The last time was when your mother took you on a “girls’ trip” where she told you that she didn’t love your father anymore, that she was leaving him. You had started crying, begging to go home because you could feel somewhere deep in your gut that he’d be gone by the time you came home. She told you he wouldn’t, promised you. 

You stared into her face, her features shadowed by the halo of the sun behind her head. She was tanned and beautiful—and everything you believed in. You’d calmed down, called him to tell him you loved him. He had said it back, his voice weary. 

He was gone when you got home, somewhere out in the thickets of Alabama where you had been only moments ago. 

In the dream, you stand in the fold in a tiny triangle bikini. It’s blue, but sometimes pink, and you have long black wet hair streaking all over you. Behind you, there's a field and dilapidated shacks—or maybe they’re houses only broken down by shame and time. 

In front of you hovers a buck with tall antlers. He's come and found you, pushes forward until his face is against your stomach and your upper body is in between his antlers like a sun. It's only this close that you can see the other antlers trapped on top of his, dripping blood off the bone. 

He's killed something. One of his own, maybe he’s gutted you. You begin to twirl in a circle as he herds you, Ethel Cain's throaty vocals invading you spiritually through your wired headphones until you settle your chin on a shotgun (when did that appear?) and look back at the buck. 

But beyond him now. Someone is looking at you. Come to me. You don’t know which of you is asking, including the animal.

When you land, you text your mother about your dream. She tells you to go see her psychic, that you can drive there straight after she picks you up. You’re not here yet? You text her. She doesn’t respond. You don’t check her location. You were never one for seeking answers. 

Welcome to Mississippi, the flight attendant tells you as you step out of the door. Her voice is chipper and bright, someone who clearly doesn’t see anything past the palm trees and pale Marlboro Lights. Thank you, you respond, for getting me here. You wonder if it's a little too intense to say thank you in this manner to someone who hasn’t talked to you for the entire flight.

But her eyes soften and maybe she sees something, maybe she knows that in your blood runs the waters of the Gulf Coast. Her mouth parts and out comes, welcome home.

🪽♱

Your mother is waiting outside baggage claim, leaning against her faded blue Cadillac—the one your grandmother always said would be the death of her. Her hair is different now, lighter where it used to be the same shade as yours, cut in a bob that frames her face and makes her look younger than her fifty-three years. You feel a sense of irritation at the change in color as if she’s taken something away from you. As much as she could annoy you, you loved that the resemblance between you used to be uncanny. 

When she sees you, she straightens, takes one last puff of her bubblegum pink vape before tucking it into her denim shorts’ pocket, and bounces on the tips of her white sandals. You can see slight redness along her brow this close to her, and needle marks from where she’s gotten her “preventative” Botox. It’s only a matter of time before she starts suggesting you join the club. 

"Look what the Gulf dragged in," she says, arms outstretched.

You let her sweep you into a hug, her perfume a perplexing mix of caramel and cinnamon. Maybe it’s the tightness of her hug, the silent admission that she missed you (because you never spoke about your feelings to one another) that causes your face to crumple and your body to shake. Your mother coos, the sound throaty from years of smoking, and rocks you back and forth. You’re blubbering about that fucking rat in New York, but she just knows you need this. 

Somehow, she gets you into the car and stuffs a stick of celery into your mouth, depositing a tiny tub of ranch and breaded chili wings into your lap. The drive from Gulfport to Bay St. Louis takes you along the coast, windows down despite the July heat. Salt air whips your hair around your face as you stare out at the water. It's different here—softer somehow than the aggressive Atlantic you'd grown accustomed to. The Gulf looks like it's breathing, with gentle rises and falls that match the rhythm of your chest.

"Angels is doing well," your mother says, referring to the boutique as if it's a third person in the car. You nod to show your listening, your front teeth break apart the body of another piece of celery. "Tourist season's good this year. The snowbirds are spending money."

You nod, watching pastel-colored houses roll by, their wrought iron balconies and weathered shutters telling stories of hurricanes survived and summer loves forgotten. Spanish moss hangs from live oaks like old women's hair, swaying in the breeze off the water.

"Shit, we need to stop for gas. I knew I should’ve filled her up before leaving," your mother announces, turning into a station that looks like it hasn't changed since 1975. The sign—Silver Cove Gas & Grocery—flickers in the late afternoon sun, neon just beginning to glow against the darkening sky. "Get me a Diet Coke, would you? And whatever you want." Yeah, you think, on my card.

As you step out of the car, the humidity wraps around you like a blanket, familiar in its weight. The feeling makes you think of your childhood best friend Ella, a broad-shouldered girl who used to come up behind you and hug you with a quarter of her true strength. Last time you checked (you’re always checking) she was a professional athlete, free from this town. 

The concrete beneath your feet is warm, and for a moment, you stand still, feeling the heat rise through the soles of your worn down ballet flats. It's nothing like New York pavement, which always feels cold somehow, even in summer. Maybe this is what makes you unlock your phone, find Ella’s Instagram, and send her a message. She probably won’t even see it, given she’s verified and has over two million followers. 

The bell above the door chimes as you enter, and the cashier—a teenager with braces and freckles—nods in recognition. "You're Nina’s girl," she says. Not a question. It doesn’t need to be. You have her face.

You're picking up your mother's Diet Coke from the cooler, and grabbing a Cola Lacaye for yourself, when you hear it—the deep rumble of a diesel engine pulling into the lot. Through the window plastered with faded beer advertisements and fishing tournament flyers, you see it: a massive black truck, clean despite the dusty roads, commanding the space around it like it owns the whole town. Maybe it does. It’s been a long time since you were back anyway. 

The driver's door opens, and a pair of heavy boots hit the ground first. Then legs in well-loved jeans, and finally, her—tall, with arms corded with muscle and dark hair pulled back in a short, practical braid. A scar runs down one side of her face, but it doesn't diminish her beauty; instead, it feels like a warning. This woman has survived things you can't imagine.

She walks steadily toward the store, and as she reaches for the door, your eyes meet through the glass. For a second, neither of you moves. Something passes between you—recognition, maybe, though you've never seen her before. Or perhaps it's just that you both seem out of place here, returned to a world that's both familiar and foreign.

The bell chimes again, and she's inside, the small space suddenly feeling smaller. She nods to the cashier—"Evening, Annie"—and heads straight for the cooler where you're still standing, Diet Coke clutched forgotten in your hand.

"Excuse me," she says, her voice lower than you expected, rougher. When you don't move immediately, one corner of her mouth quirks up. "Unless you're planning to buy all of those."

You step aside and say, “I was thinking about it.” 

She smiles fully as you continue watching as she reaches for a Diet Coke of her own and a package of cream-filled cookies in a blue wrapper. As she moves past you toward the counter, you catch a whiff of diesel and something sweeter—maybe vanilla, maybe just the sea.

"You're new," she says over her shoulder.

"I'm home," you correct her, surprising yourself with how right it feels to say it.

She smiles again, and this time you smile back. You stand in line behind her, your mind following the thick lines of her back as she reaches for her wallet and counts out some bills. Soon enough, she’s finished, and you pay for your own things before slipping out the door. Your mother waves giddily from the driver’s seat and you laugh a little, slightly touched at how glad she is to see you over and over again.

“You’re Nina’s daughter?” that gravelly voice asks and you turn your head to look over your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you say, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Your mom’s shop just got added to my delivery route. I see her every Thursday evening,” the woman says. “Guess I’ll be seeing you too.”

“Um, guess so,” you push out, your chest warming at the way she’s gazing down at you. She’s taller by a few inches, but the inches matter. You’re used to being the tallest around. 

She eyes you for a minute longer before making her way back to her truck. You watch until she’s back in the cab, then walk quickly to the Cadillac. As you slide in, your mother presses a kiss to your temple in thanks for her Diet Coke. 

“I see you’ve met Sevika,” she comments. “Strange little woman.”

“Little is not the word I would use to describe her.”

Your phone vibrates with a notification and you check it. It’s a rather sweet response to your Instagram DM. Hey, wow! This was a pleasant surprise. I’m doing great, how are you? You still look the same.

Sorry? You type back without thinking.

Lolll, don’t apologize. It’s not a bad thing. You always had a timeless face. 

Maybe you aren’t forgettable. At the same time you receive the message, your mother laughs.

🪽♱

"Absolutely not," your mother says, setting down her wine glass firmly on the kitchen counter. "You're supposed to be resting, [Name]."

You tilt your head, watching the condensation gather on her glass. The kitchen is the same as you remember—blue and white tiles with little anchors, ceiling fan that clicks when it spins too fast, the refrigerator covered in magnets from places neither of you have actually been.

"I need something to do, Mom. I didn't come back to sit around and count the ceiling tiles."

"What you need is to recover. Work is what made you break down and come back in the first place."

You sigh, picking at the label on your beer bottle. "That was different. That was sixty-hour weeks with a boss who thought weekends were a suggestion." You look up at her. "I’m afraid despite my best attempts, I’ve been corporate-pilled. I will collapse without any work. Just let me take the opening shift. You know you hate mornings anyway."

She narrows her eyes, looking so much like you it's unsettling. "Only mornings?"

"Only mornings," you agree. "I'll have the place ready when you come in at noon. Or one."

Her eyes narrow at the extra hour you’ve added on, but she looks away as she considers.

"Fine," she relents. "But if I see those little crease lines between your eyebrows coming back, I'm firing you."

“Harsh,” you quip, but you squeeze her shoulder as you get up to begin washing the dishes.

Angels by the Sea sits at the corner of Harbor Drive and Magnolia Street, a converted Victorian house painted the palest shade of pink, like the inside of a seashell. The sign—written in your great-aunt’s handwriting and preserved all these years—hangs from wrought iron brackets above the porch. Two white rocking chairs flank the entrance, inviting passersby to sit and watch the Gulf waters in the distance. You think they shouldn’t sit down. People tend to get stuck here. 

You unlock the front door at 8:15, earlier than necessary, but there's something about the morning light filtering through the stained glass transoms that feels sacred. Inside, the boutique is a carefully curated treasure trove: whitewashed wooden floors, antique display cases salvaged from a New Orleans department store, and clothes hanging from driftwood racks your grandfather made decades ago. 

Nothing has really changed and the way the store seems to be waiting for you lances through your chest like a harpoon.

The inventory is eclectic—sundresses in gauzy fabrics, handmade jewelry from local artisans, vintage-inspired swimwear, and the salt scrubs your mother makes in her kitchen. Everything smells faintly of spice and sea salt.

You feel the urge to break down again, but you refrain. Instead, you slide off your converse and socks, let your bare feet rake in the unswept gravel from travelers’ boots as you flip the sign to "Open" and turn on the small record player behind the counter. You sort through the stack of vinyl until you find it—A dusty handmade pink vinyl, titled “Unreleased.” As the needle drops and "Dust Bowl (Demo)" fills the space, you can't help but sway, your hips finding the rhythm naturally.

Ethel’s rich voice singing about blood-stained blondes feels right for this moment—this return to something that feels like yourself. You let your arms drift above your head, spin once in the empty shop, bare feet sliding across the whitewashed floors. No one's watching, and there's a freedom in dancing without worrying about looking graceful or composed. 

You twirl and twirl until you stop with a hand clutching over your stomach, dashing madly to the small employee restroom in the back to vomit into the rusted sink. You scrub it for the next twenty minutes with bleach, humming along as the record still spins. For the first time since stepping off the plane, you feel your shoulders drop. 

Your outfit today—a simple white spaghetti-strap tank and low-rise jeans you found in your old closet—feels like a revelation after years of pencil skirts and blazers. You'd forgotten what it feels like to have your collarbones exposed to the air, to feel fabric that moves with you rather than constrains.

When the song ends, you're slightly breathless and barely smiling. You can't remember the last time you danced in New York—maybe at some corporate happy hour where movement was performative rather than joyful. You try not to think about it for too long, lest the sadness finds you again. 

The morning passes quietly—a few early tourists browse without buying, a regular picks up a special order perfume, and you rearrange a display of sea glass earrings, picking a few out in between to try on. It's mindless work, but it's yours, and there's something satisfying about the way your hands remember how to tie the perfect bow on the pale green gift boxes.

The bell above the door chimes just before eleven, and you look up from the sales ledger you've been updating.

"We don't usually get deliveries until—" The words die in your throat when you see who's standing in the doorway.

Sevika fills the frame, a clipboard in one hand and a small package tucked under her arm. Today, her hair is loose around her shoulders, dark waves that catch the sunlight streaming through the windows. She's wearing a faded black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing more of those arms that seem designed for gripping steering wheels and lifting heavy things. You notice one of them is a prosthetic, and your gaze caresses it, tracking the graffiti-like doodles alongside it. It’s as if she’s allowed a child to paint all over it.

"Usually Thursdays, I know," she says, the corner of her mouth lifting. "Had to reroute today. Accident on the causeway." Her eyes move from your face to take in the rest of you, lingering for a moment on the strip of skin visible between your tank top and jeans. "Nina usually signs for these."

"Mom’s still in bed," you reply, moving toward the counter. "I'm covering mornings while I’m around."

She nods, crossing to you and laying the clipboard down. "Signature on the bottom line." As you sign, she glances around the shop. "Nice place. Never been inside before."

"Seriously? You deliver here every week."

"To the loading dock in back," she clarifies. "Never through the front door."

You hand back the clipboard and accept the package, your fingers brushing hers in the exchange. Her skin is warm and slightly rough.

“God, that’s awful. When I was younger, we used to give the drivers something sweet for the road, sometimes savory.”

“Yeah, well,” Sevika sighs. “People got creepier, meaner. Women got wiser. I’m fine without a treat if that means my customers feel safer.”

Your eyes soften minutely at that, and she notes the way you look down, your lashes brushing your cheek gently as if not to spook yourself.

"You settling back in okay?" she asks, and there's something in her tone that suggests genuine interest rather than small talk.

"It's... an adjustment," you admit. "But this helps." You gesture around the boutique. "It's quiet here."

"Too quiet for some," she says. "That why you left in the first place?"

The question is direct, almost intrusive, but she asks it without judgment. Just curiosity.

"Partly," you say, surprised at your own honesty. "I wanted to see what else was out there. Had dreams for a big life."

"And did you? See what else was out there?"

You think about the rat, the subway, the billboard with the too-white teeth. "I saw enough. Then life got…too big."

She nods as if this makes perfect sense to her. "Well." She taps her clipboard against her thigh. "Guess I'll be seeing you mornings now instead of your mother."

"Guess so."

She turns to leave but pauses at the door. "You know, there’s nothing wrong with trying something and it no longer being what you want."

"I wish someone told me that before now," you say quietly.

"I’m saying it now." Her eyes flick down to your outfit and back up. "Have a good day…"

“[Name],” you supply.

“[Name],” she repeats. “You seem like a sweet girl. Those big places? They tend to lure you in, then swallow you up. From the looks of it, you gave it all you got. And in some ways, you won the fight. You made it back home.”

Before you can respond, she's gone, the bell announcing her departure as clearly as it did her arrival. Through the window, you watch her walk back to her truck, the confident stride of someone who knows exactly who she is and where she's going. Maybe she could keep you on the path.

You look down at yourself—at the simple clothes that feel more like you than anything you've worn in years—and breathe in. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you didn’t fail. Maybe this was the true mission.

Or maybe, you think as you watch Sevika's truck pull away, there was no mission. Only the decisions you made. 

🪽♱

It continues the same way for a while.

You see her in the mornings, and when you do, you talk more. Spend less time inside of yourself. The days bleed into one another like watercolors on damp paper—pink sunrises giving way to white-hot afternoons, then purple dusks that settle over the Gulf like a bruise. Through it all, Sevika arrives with the steadiness of tides, her presence an anchor in your drifting days.You feel more alive, less like a child with their face toward the wall.

You start collecting moments like shards of glass: the way morning light catches in the joints of her prosthetic. How she smells like motor oil and salt air and something sweeter underneath. The low rumble of her laugh when you say something unexpectedly sharp. You hoard them, these fragments, turning them over in your mind at night while ceiling fans spin shadows across your childhood bedroom. Sometimes you start crying, not understanding why its so difficult to allow yourself to want this.

There's something almost holy in the ritual of her arrival—the bell above the door, the heavy tread of her boots, the weight of her gaze finding yours across the shop. You're twenty-something and already tired of a world that promised more than it gave. She's forty-something—maybe you should ask—and somehow both weathered and unwavering, like the cypress trees that survive hurricane after hurricane.

You learn she lives out past the old lighthouse in a boathouse painted midnight blue. You ask her if she’s lonely. She takes a long sip of her Diet Coke, looks at you for a second too long, then says no. That the prosthetic came after an accident offshore—something with machinery and poor timing and the sort of pain that changes a person forever. That she keeps a three-legged cat named Commander who sleeps on her chest at night. That she has nightmares about drowning despite knowing how to swim since before she could walk.

You learn about her makeshift family, about Jinx and the way she and Sevika sort of fell together after some job they’d done in the military had blown out. We were mercenaries, she lets slip and you raise a brow in surprise. Are you supposed to be telling me that? You ask. Nope, she says, popping the ‘p’. You laugh.

She talks about Isha, the little runaway they found rooting around in their shed. Isha, who they adopted. Isha who got sick. Isha’s who’s gone. 

“Jinx didn’t take it well,” Sevika says and you hold her hand. “She left, went somewhere. Called me to tell me she couldn’t come back. Told me—told me loved me. Took on some job and…”

You know what she’s about to say next, and you brace for it. You still flinch.

“Blew up. That’s what they said. I think she gave herself a way out.”

You tear up but manage to tell her about your dad. She strokes your back as you cry about the way he left, about how he’s well and alive and newly married. How the two of you are Facebook friends but never speak.

She learns about your failed escape, about the way New York chewed you up and left you hollow. About how sometimes you wake with your heart racing, convinced you're back in that cramped apartment with the subway rattling your windows. About the recurring dream of the buck with blood-soaked antlers, how he's started appearing with Sevika's face, her dark eyes watching you from between points of bone.

It's a Thursday in late July when something breaks open between you. The air hangs heavy with coming rain, pressing against windows like something desperate to get in. You've spent the day rearranging displays, moving in slow circles to music that feels like church—Ethel's voice coating the empty shop in honey and ash.

The day has stretched too long, customers sparse in the gathering storm. You're supposed to be closing, but instead you're dancing alone, barefoot on whitewashed floors, arms raised toward the ceiling fan as if in supplication. "American Teenager" fills the space, and you're spinning with your eyes closed when the bell chimes.

You stop mid-turn, eyes flying open to find Sevika standing in the doorway, rain-damp and beautiful in her severity. Water clings to her eyelashes and the sharp line of her jaw. Behind her, lightning splits the sky, illuminating her silhouette in electric blue.

"You're late," you say, breathless from dancing or from the sight of her, you can't tell which.

"Roads are flooding." Her eyes track over you—bare feet, tiny jean shorts, hair wild from spinning. Something in her gaze feels like hands on skin. "Should've been closed an hour ago."

"I got lost in it," you admit, gesturing vaguely to the record player, to yourself, to the empty shop that feels suddenly too full with her in it.

She crosses to you, boots leaving wet prints on the floor. Places a small package on the counter, but doesn't pull away. "You’re always lost in it, honey" she says, voice lower than usual.

"Yeah. I think it’s my way of staying alive." The words slip out, heavy with meaning you didn't intend but don't regret. Her eyebrows furrow, but she doesn’t respond. 

Thunder crashes outside, close enough to rattle the windows. The lights flicker once, twice, then go out completely. In the sudden darkness, all you can hear is the rain, the needle skipping on the record, and Sevika's breathing, closer than you expected.

"You can say," you whisper, the words a prayer in the dark. "The streets will be underwater."

Her silence stretches long enough that you think she'll refuse. Then her hand finds yours in the darkness, flesh against flesh, warm and rough with calluses. Foolishly, you think of asking her to go swimming.

"I'll stay," she says, and the words feel like a covenant.

You find candles in the storage room, arrange them in a circle on the floor. In their glow, Sevika looks carved from shadow and stone, all sharp angles and dark depth. You bring out the emergency bottle of bourbon your mother keeps behind the counter, two little shot glasses because there are no proper glasses. Your dad got them from when he’d served back in Vietnam.

"To all the light going out," you toast, and she echoes it, eyes never leaving yours as you both drink.

The bourbon burns sweet down your throat. Outside, the world drowns, but in here, you're closer to floating.

"Tell me," she says after a while, voice rough with liquor and something else, "what are you running from? Really?"

You stare into your cup, watching amber liquid catch candlelight. "I’m not sure. I guess mainly the feeling that I've already used up all my chances," you admit. "That I'm in my twenties and already failed at the only thing I tried to be."

"And what's that?"

"Someone who matters. Someone who left a mark." You look up at her, finding her closer than before, drawn into your orbit through some gravity you don't understand. "I thought New York would make me real. Instead, it made me into a ghost. Everyone could see right through me."

She reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek, tucking hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness. Her prosthetic catches the candlelight, metal warmed to gold.

"I think a lot of New York is faking it. You’re real, and it’s hard to recognize the disingenuous when you only ever are real," she says, and the words feel like truth.

You feel something fall away inside of you, and you put down your glass before leaning forward. When her lips find yours, it's like breaking the surface after too long underneath a lake. You gasp against her mouth, hands reaching to hold yourself in the solid reality of her—fingers digging into her shoulders, sliding into her rain-damp hair.

She kisses like she does everything else: with absolute certainty, with a focus that makes the world still. Her prosthetic arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer until you're nearly in her lap, the heat of her body burning through your thin tee.

"I've been watching you," she confesses against your throat, words pressed into skin like secrets. "Since that first day."

“Me too,” you murmur. “I watched you get in your car.”

It’s an intimate confession, and the candles gutter around you, wax pooling on the floor like offerings. Outside, the storm rages, but it's nothing compared to what’s been building inside of you. Your limbs are heavy with exhaustion, so you shift until you lie beside her on the floor, your head on her chest, listening to the steady drum of her heart.

"Are you ever going to stop driving?" you ask, voice small in the vastness of night.

Her fingers trace constellations on your bare shoulder, connecting beauty marks like stops on a roadmap. “I don’t know if I could.”

You close your eyes, breathing in the scent of her—rain and metal and skin. “Would you take me with you?”

She says nothing, and then,

“I’m not sure, baby. Will you ever be happy right where you are?”

🪽♱

Eventually, your mother asks you about her. Well, she more so asks you what’s wrong. 

You weren’t aware something was wrong with you, and tell her as much. She gives you a look as she sucks a cloud of apple from her pen.

"I'm not stupid," she says, exhaling sweet vapor that curls around her face like morning mist over the bayou. "You've been floating around this house like someone cut your anchor. One minute you're singing in the shower, the next you're staring at the wall like it's showing you visions."

“Maybe they are.” She lets out a dry laugh, and you was more time picking at a loose thread on the couch—the same floral pattern that's been there since you were fifteen, though faded now where the sun hits it through the blinds. "It's nothing."

"It's that Sevika lady." Not a question. Your mother has always seen through you like water, clear enough to count the stones at the bottom.

"I don't know what we are," you admit finally, the words tumbling out like shells from a broken net. "I don’t know what I’m doing. I always know what I’m doing, Mama.”

Your mother shifts and brings you to lay your head against her chest. You close your eyes and sink inside of her skin to the best of your ability.

“She's rooted here but always moving. I came back home because I couldn't survive out there, but I don't know if I can stay forever either."

Your mother sets her vape down, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear the way she used to when you had night terrors. "Baby, there's a difference between running away and moving forward. One's about fear, the other's about growth."

The ceiling fan clicks above you, marking seconds with metallic persistence. Outside, cicadas scream their summer chorus.

"When your daddy left," she continues, eyes fixed on something beyond the window, something maybe years away, "I thought I'd never breathe right again. But then I realized I'd been holding my breath our whole goddamn marriage."

Her accent slurs around the admission, and you think about Sevika's truck disappearing down lightly flooded roads, about her callused hands on your skin in candlelight. About her question: Will you ever be happy right where you are?—that's been haunting you like a malevolent spirit.

"I think I could be happy with her," you whisper, more to yourself than to your mother. "Maybe even without her. But I don't know if it's fair to either of us that I’m unsure."

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table. Sevika's name appears—no contact photo, just her name in plain text. Delivery tonight. Meet me at Silver after your shift?

Your mother watches your face change as you read it, catches the slight upturn of your lips you can't control. "Go," she says with a sigh that's half exasperation, half fondness. "Figure it out. But remember, staying isn't the same as giving up."

You stand, watching the smoke haze around her face as she blinks up at you. It forms a murky halo around her head, so you bend and kiss her cheek. You stay there for a minute, tilting your head so that your cheeks press together and share their warmth. This close, you swear you can hear her pulse. You hope she never dies. 

“I love you, Mama,” you whisper, like its some great secret. In a way it is.

She says nothing, only kisses your temple and cradles your head. You know what she’s thinking.

🪽♱

Silver Cove glows neon against the twilight sky when you pull in, your mother's Cadillac purring beneath you. The same teenager mans the register, barely looking up from her phone as the bell announces your arrival. You still tell her hello and call her by name to let her know that you see her. You grab a Diet Coke from the cooler and add a package of the cream-filled cookies you've seen Sevika buy before and a Mountain Dew.

When you step outside, her truck is there, massive and gleaming under the fluorescent lights. She leans against the hood, arms crossed, waiting. In the harsh overhead light, the scar on her face looks deeper, the lines around her eyes more pronounced. Sometimes you forget she carries a whole life before you in her bones—years of things you'll never touch or understand.

"Thought maybe you wouldn't come," she says as you approach, voice graveled with something that might be hope.

You hand her a Diet Coke, fingers brushing hers in the exchange. "Why would you think that?”

She smiles for some reason. You continue.

“I've been thinking about what you asked me. During the storm."

She takes a long sip, eyes never leaving yours over the rim of the bottle. "And?"

"I don't know if I'll ever be completely happy anywhere," you admit. "New York was crushing me, but sometimes I still wake up missing the noise. The possibility. I don’t think this could be my life forever. It couldn’t sustain me."

The night air wraps around you both, thick with moisture and the scent of gasoline. A moth batters itself against the nearest light, desperate for something that could destroy it.

"I'm not asking you to stay forever, honey," Sevika says finally. "Just asking if you can be present while you're here."

You step closer, until you can see the flex of muscle in her jaw, the pulse at her throat. "What if here doesn't have to mean one place? What if it just means wherever we both are?"

Something shifts in her expression—surprise, maybe, or recognition. She sets her drink on the hood of the truck and reaches for you, prosthetic arm cool against your skin as she draws you between her legs.

"I have routes that go to Mobile, to New Orleans. Sometimes farther," she says, her breath warm against your temple. "Doesn't mean I don't come back."

"I could go with you sometimes," you suggest, fingers tracing the tattoos that wind up her flesh arm. "See places without having to leave for good. Or you could find me halfway. Like a long-term scavenger hunt."

She laughs, the sound vibrating through your shared space. "Never thought about it like that. Being alone for so long…staying or going were the only options I saw."

“Me too,” you tell her.

Above you, stars punch through the darkening sky, more visible here than they ever were in New York. You think about constellations—how stars can be millions of miles apart but still form a picture when viewed from the right angle. You think about how scientists have heard black holes sing. Sometimes, your heart feels like a black hole. Sometimes, you sing.

"I'm scared," you confess, forehead pressed to her collarbone. "Of getting it wrong again."

Her hand—her real one—tangles in your hair, holds the back of your head like something sacred. "Getting what wrong?"

"Life. Love. Whatever this is. My daddy was a carpenter. I don’t do well without a plan, a blueprint."

Sevika tilts your face up with gentle pressure, studies you with eyes that have seen oceans rise and machinery fall. "There's no wrong way to build a life that lets you breathe, baby."

When she kisses you this time, it feels different from the thunder-charged intensity of the boutique floor. It feels like an option, a detour, rather than an escape. Like coming home to a place you're still building.

"So what now?" you ask against her lips, tasting hints of her soda and what feels like mint.

"Now…we could get in my truck and drive somewhere. It could be down the coast, could be to my place. Could be just around the block until we figure out the next step." Her prosthetic arm traces your spine, sending shivers despite the summer heat. "I'm not promising forever. Just promising to keep showing up as long as you want me to."

You think about what your mother said—about staying versus giving up. About the difference between running away and moving forward. About how sometimes growth means finding new ways to be rooted.

"I can work with that," you say, and it feels like the truest thing you've said since coming home. “But I don’t want to leave my mom just yet. We need each other right now.”

Sevika lifts you easily, sets you in the passenger seat of her truck with a gentleness that belies her strength. As she rounds the hood to the driver's side, you watch her move through the gauzy light of Silver Cove—solid and certain and somehow yours, at least for now.

The engine rumbles to life beneath you, vibrating up through your bones like a second pulse. Through the windshield, the Gulf Coast stretches dark and infinite, full of places you might go, places you might return to.

"Ready?" Sevika asks, hand on the gearshift, waiting for your answer before putting the truck in drive.

You reach across the console, lace your fingers through hers—flesh against flesh, blood against blood.

"Yeah," you say, and as the truck pulls away from Silver Cove, you feel something inside you flatline—not with the finality of death, but with the quiet understanding of choice. “Take me home, please.”

© hcneymooners.

⚚ wife tag: @s-4pphics

[tonowarislut]

BABY ABBYY😿😿 And tiny little Bear

I love bear sm guys😿😿

[tonowarislut]

★ — READ YOU LIKE A BOOK

★ — pairing: professor!abby x fem!librarian

★ — abby always kept an eye on you. working here was her distraction. you were smart, beautiful, and read her with ease.

★ — warnings: sexual content

★ — moodboard by me :)

🏷️ — @rosemariiaa @d3arapril @grey-jedi12 @mystellenia @vicsstufff @layalisthings

The library was quiet in the late afternoon, the golden sunlight streaming through the high windows, illuminating the rows of bookshelves. You were perched on your usual stool at the circulation desk, checking in a cart full of returns when you heard the familiar sound of hesitant footsteps.

Looking up, you saw her--Professor Abby Anderson.

Abby was a regular at the library, often dropping by to borrow research materials for her lectures, or just to spend time reading in the quiet corners of the building. Her reputation on campus was one of brilliance and humility, though she was known to be shy. But with you, there was something else--something that made her smile linger a little longer, her voice lower when she spoke.

"Hey," Abby greeted, her hands shoved into the pockets of her blazer, her cheeks already tinged pink.

"Hi, Professor Anderson," you replied, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "What brings you here today?"

"Abby. Abby is fine," she corrected softly, glancing away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "I was, um, hoping you might help me with something."

"Of course I can," you said, setting your work aside. "What'd you need?"

Abby hesitated, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "I--uh--there's this... thing I'm working on. In my office. At home. And I thought maybe... you'd like to come by? Help me organize?”

You blinked in surprise, her nervousness catching you off guard. It wasn't unusual for professors to ask for help finding books or resources, but an invitation to her home? That was new.

"I'd love to," you said, your curiosity piqued.

Abby's face lit up with a shy smile. "Great. Tonight? Around seven?"

"Sure," you agreed, your heart skipping a beat at the way her blue eyes sparkled.

----

Abby's apartment was exactly what you'd imagined—tidy, warm, and filled with books.

Shelves lined the walls of her living room, and soft lighting gave the space a cozy glow. She led you to her office, a smaller room tucked away at the back of the penthouse.

The office was a mix of order and chaos. Her desk was covered in papers and notebooks, while the shelves were stacked with books of varying sizes, some teetering on the edge. A small couch sat against one wall, and a window overlooked the street below.

"Sorry about the mess," Abby said, scratching the back of her neck. "I've been meaning to organize it for a while, but I always get... distracted."

"It's not so bad," you said, stepping inside and taking it all in. "It feels... lived-in. Comfortable."

She smiled at that, her eyes following you as you wandered around the room.

As you reached her desk, you leaned back against it, running your fingers along the edge. "This is a nice setup," you said, glancing at her.

Abby froze for a moment, her gaze fixed on you. You could see the faintest hint of pink creeping up her neck as her eyes darted from your face to where you were sitting, her mind clearly elsewhere.

"You okay?" you asked, tilting your head in amusement.

"Y-yeah," she stammered, rubbing the back of her neck. "Just, uh... you look really good there."

"On your desk?" you teased, arching an eyebrow.

Abby swallowed hard, her lips curving into a nervous smile. "Maybe."

The air between you grew heavier, the playful tension shifting into something deeper. Abby took a tentative step closer, her hands twitching at her sides as if unsure of what to do.

"You're staring," you pointed out, though your voice was softer now, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Can't help it," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Something in her tone made your breath catch. You reached out, brushing your fingers against her hand. That small touch seemed to break the spell holding her back.

Abby closed the distance between you, her hands resting on either side of the desk, caging you in but still giving you space to pull away.

"Is this okay?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Yes," you whispered, your gaze locked on hers.

Her lips met yours in a tentative kiss, soft and searching. But as you leaned into her, your arms wrapping around her neck, the kiss deepened. Abby's hand found your waist, pulling you closer as her other hand rested on the desk beside you.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, her forehead resting against yours.

"I've wanted to do that for a while," Abby admitted, her voice still shaky.

"Why didn't you?" you asked, smiling as you ran your fingers through her blonde hair.

"Didn't think l'd have the courage," she said with a soft laugh.

You cupped her face, your thumb brushing against her cheek. "You've got more courage than you think."

“You wanna test that theory?” Abby says, a sly grin creeping across her face.

“Maybe I do, Professor.”

——

You’re sitting pretty on Abby’s sleek, wooden desk, short pencil skirt leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Need you to take this off, honey.” Abby says, gesturing your neatly tucked blouse, that was practically see-through. Seeing you everyday in this little skirt drove Abby crazy, and spreading your legs open for her satisfaction was all she could think about.

“W-whatever you want, professor.” You whine, as Abby slowly slides her hands on your sides, towering over you to kiss your neck.

“What’d I tell you, honey. Abby. Call me Abby.” She says teasingly, brushing your hair away from your face.

“You smell so fuckin’ good, baby.” She murmurs into your ear, kissing that sweet spot on your neck, causing a moan to erupt from your core.

“You liked that, honey?” Abby says with a soft chuckle, taking this as a sign.

“Fuck..” You moan out, as Abby’s thick finger slowly circled your bud through your panties, stimulating you instantly.

“S—shiiittt… Abby. Keep talkin’ to me, please?” You whine again, your digits burying themselves into Abby’s hair, undoing the neat braid she had it in.

“Pussy’s callin’ my name, honey. Let Abby make you feel good, yeah?” She coos, her thick digits moving away from your cunt. You were soaked, and in the moment you were embarrassed that Abby made you feel this way, but you needed this. Bad.

Abby unbuttons your blouse, the lace black bra you wore underneath was a sight to see. Your tits were beautiful, and the dainty necklace you had sat classy right between them.

“You can take it off, Abby.” You tease, as Abby’s eyes were glued to the image in front of her, a discarded blouse with your tits on display, the tightest skirt imaginable with the thinnest lace panties underneath, all over her desk.

“Right, right. Sorry, you’re just… everything I’ve imagined.” She whispers, looking deep into your eyes.

“Yeah, Anderson? Wanna taste me?” You ask with pure seduction, batting your thick eyelashes at her.

She’s melting.

“Wanna fuckin’ taste you so bad, honey.” She says, pushing her glassed up slighty.

“Taste me, Abby.” You tease, stroking her chin.

Abby sinks to her knees, spreading your legs apart. She works her way up your skirt, slowly pulling the lace covering your pussy down. She takes the zipper of your skirt, taking her time to now slide it down your thighs.

Your legs, your thighs, your pussy.

Glistening. Perfect.

“Jesus…” She says, adjusting her glasses. “You’re soaked.”

You moan, her cold fingers caressing your folds, feeling the slick building up.

Abby spreads your legs apart, slotting her mouth right between them.

She laps mercilessly at your cunt, taking in all the juices spilled all over her desk. You tasted just as she imagined, sweet and perfect.

Abby thought about this moment ever since you started working on campus, the image of your plush tits in front of her, your legs open for her.

“Fuck… Abby—right.. mmph.. there.” You manage to moan out, your grip in Abby’s hair unstable.

“Mmm.. taste so… goddamn good, honey.” She groans, her grip on your thighs tightening.

Her tongue thrusts harder into your cunt, the sounds of your wetness pornographic.

“Need you.. to cum.” Abby moans into your pussy, the vibration bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You hadn’t felt like like this in such a long time, taking so much time with your own fingers stuffed in your cunt, in your lonely apartment.

“M’so.. close..” You cry out, causing Abby’s pace to quicken.

She slaps your thighs, and that familiar feeling of warmth erupts in your core.

And just like that, you snap, and cum all over Abby’s tongue.

“Perfect, honey.” She reassures, making sure to lick up every last drop of you.

You catch your breath, as Abby slowly lifts you bridal style, carrying you to her master bedroom.

She lays you down, tucking you under her silk sheets.

“Lemme read to you, yeah?”

[tonowarislut]

dom!abby losing control୨ৎ

summary: abby's composed and rough facade is destroyed by an unexpected and embarrassing orgasm.

content: answer to this req!! dom!abby, kinda mean! abby, sub!reader, make out, fingering (r!receiving), teasing, humiliation if you squint and shake the phone, strap on sex (muehehehhehe) (r!receiving), overstim (a!receiving), abby being rough with reader, degrading (r!receiving)

notes: havent posted in almost 2 months 😍 school is whooping my ass and midterms are coming up so basically i’ll be killing myself soon. enjoy this to feed on for the next x weeks until i post again

(wc 1.8k)

abby's rough hands grip onto the backs of your thighs and lift you up, dropping you harshly on the kitchen counter as she cups the back of your neck to pull you back in for a kiss. you throw your arms around her neck, and your fingers make quick work of undoing the golden braid falling down the length of her back, scratching her scalp and making her groan. 

you grab her hair in fistfuls and pull on them to expose her neck, abby hissing at the twisted pleasure prickling across her scalp. her throat bobs with a thick swallow while you coat the skin of her neck with sloppy kisses, her hips hungrily grinding up into yours.  

"jesus, baby... fuck." abby's hands grab the hem of your loose t-shirt to lift it over your head, your braless tits exposed and nipples hardening at the sharp chill of the air. her swollen lips latch onto the side of your neck and make you dizzy, and you swiftly undo her belt buckle and pull it out of her jeans' belt loops. just when you unbutton them and grab onto the zipper to unzip it, her thick, rough palm closes around your throat, and you choke on your saliva at the startle. 

"you're being especially whorish today. slow down—you're not the one in control here." her thumb and first two fingers squeeze on the sides of your throat and restrict the blood flow to your head, making it feel heavy on your shoulders and your vision deliciously fog up.  

she slowly releases her iron grip on your throat and slides her hand down to your chest, her left hand tweaking and palming at your nipple. with her other hand, slow and deliberately teasing, she unties the drawstring of your pajama pants and pulls one leg out of them, spreading your legs wide to make room for her muscular body to fit in between them.  

you're left with only underwear on, your thin pajama pants floppily dangling from your foot from behind abby's back. abby roughly shoves her hand into your underwear and cups you, feeling your thrumming clit on her palm and the small wet spot on your underwear on her knuckles. 

breathing into your ear, she mumbles, "be good for me and don't fucking move, 'kay?" she then harshly thrusts her middle finger into your pussy, its soft walls quickly morphing to make room for the intrusion. you cry out and throw your head back into the kitchen cabinet, softly wincing at the impact.  

she presses inside you on that smooth spot at exactly the depth of her finger, almost as if she was the only one meant to find it, and your eyes water the way they always do when she massages inside you. her now swollen lips scatter bruises and marks along the side of your neck in a line, breadcrumbs to remind you in the morning of the skilled way she undoes your composure so easily.  

"i'll never get enough of the way your skin tastes," she purrs into your shoulder, and you pathetically whine in response, her brazen praises flustering you beyond words. she tries, and fails, to ignore the needy throbbing of her neglected clit underneath the seam of her pants, the slightest movement pressing the seam up against it and making her clench. 

golden waves cascade down her face and frame her strong cheekbones, hiding the way her eyes stayed high up in the back of her head at the smell of your skin. your fingers tightly thread through her hair, your grip tightening as you periodically let out little mewls into the shell of her ear.  

she trades the massaging of your g-spot for slow, but deep thrusts into your pussy, adding her index finger without warning and making your back bow. 

"oh, my go- my- abby," you pant out, unable to get more than three words out at a time before her careless ruining of your weeping cunt sucks the air out of you. you start babbling how she shouldn't stop, a telltale sign that your climax was approaching. 

your hand shoots to the wrist pumping her fingers into your pussy, your fingers wrapping around it in a vice-like grip to try and slow her movements down in overstimulation. her free hand snaps to your jaw and squeezes your cheeks together, condescendingly shaking your head side to side. 

"why you grabbing my wrist, baby? you want me to stop? yeah?" her voice raises in pitch to mock your whining. "you wanted this so fucking bad, so take it, slut." 

she throws your head back against the cabinet and shakes her wrist of your hand, beginning to jackhammer her fingers into your abused hole at a murderous pace. in the corner of your nearly closed eyes, you see your pajama pants fall from your foot to the floor. your whining and whimpering quickly fills the room, all the while abby watches every change in your face with a close eye.  

you cum with a yelp, both hands flying to her own to stop her brutal assault while you dumbly stare into her eyes slack jawed with your brows tightly twisted in ecstasy. abby removes her fingers from inside you and immediately pulls your face to hers, teeth clashing in a lewdly sloppy kiss.  

planting her hands underneath your thighs, she effortlessly hoists you up and carries you down the hall to your shared bedroom, all without disconnecting your lips once. upon entering, she throws you down onto the bed and swiftly pulls her henley over her head, her small boobs clad in a simple, grey bra. 

"go get me my cock, baby. the black one." her pants were already unbuttoned from your earlier rushed undressing, but the zipper still remained untouched. her thick fingers pinch the silver and slowly slide it down, and you quite literally salivate at the sight.  

pushing down a thick swallow, your body turns towards the closet to get abby's strap. your head closely follows after tearing your sticky gaze from her now exposed v-line, little tufts of light brown hair leading to her core in a teasing, almost coaxing way. upon entering the closet, you bend down to the dark blue box in the corner of the small room, and your nipples brush your knee, suddenly making you aware that she so effortlessly ordered you to get her strap, and you so pliably listened, almost fully naked, at that. you might as well have crawled to the closet on all fours with how you mindlessly obeyed her like a dog does its owner. 

shaking your mild embarrassment, you palm the long, dark strap and pivot back around to return to abby. she stands tall and sturdy—unmoving like a tree—watching your naked figure make its way back to her. 

"take your underwear off for me," she says under her breath, her breathing made heavy by hunger. 

you perch on the edge of the bed and scoot back, pulling your underwear down your legs and kicking it off to some spot on the floor. abby pushes her jeans and boxers over her ass just enough for the base of the strap to sit snugly against her pounding clit once she steps into the harness, the contact enough to make her sharply wince. 

grabbing you by the ankles, she roughly pulls you to the edge of the bed and lifts your feet up near each side of her head, rubbing her warm palms up and down your legs. simultaneously, her hips push forward and slide the length of the strap along your pussy, the toy gliding against your skin with ease thanks to the obscene amount of cum that coated your lips from your orgasm. 

"please... just... just put it in," you whisper, tired of the teasing. 

"i will. just wait a little—be patient." she gently lowers your legs to wrap around her hips and lock behind her back. then, she pauses before adding, "do you know how to do that when you're acting like such a slut?" like she'd caught herself being too nice and had to balance it out. 

all you can do is whine in response and hope to feel the delicious sting of her pushing the tip in soon. her hips rock back and forth one, two, three times while she intently watches, entranced by the way your pussy clenches every time the tip of her cock passes over your clit. 

her hips sharply jerk back, and she incoherently mutters a string of words under her breath. ending her cruel teasing, she swipes her hand down your swollen cunt to gather your cum and coats the tip of the strap with it. lining it up with your twitching hole, she sinks into you and smirks at your jaw dropping ever lower in pleasure. 

she starts her thrusts in a rather swift cadence, luring sweet cries out from your throat, suppressed grunts coming from her own. 

"fuck, i've been thinking about this all day. you don't even know, baby." her speech comes out fast and strained as she tries to speak before her groans and grunts interrupt the words. "i could live in this pussy, and it would welcome me with tears running down your legs." 

"yes," you pant out, the one word your dumbified brain can remember. 

very quickly, though, abby's thrusts get random and sloppy. shrill, high-pitched squeaks spill from her lips, a striking contrast to her formerly composed grunts and dirty words. she abruptly pulls out, and her hands frantically dart to her hips to push the base of the strap off her engorged clit, her lower stomach hurting from overstimulation. 

with the harness shoved down to her mid-thigh, she sat on the edge of the bed partially turned away, muttering a quiet shit to herself. you gawk at her with scared, wide eyes, terrified that something had gone wrong or hurt her. you see her eyelids flutter as she turned away in what seemed like embarrassment. her chest was madly rising and falling, too, from her attempts to catch her breath, and you scoff in both disbelief and twisted arousal. 

"baby," you call out, placing your hand on her bicep. "did you just cum?" 

she's quiet for a long while before shoving her face into her hands to hide her humiliation. "god, i didn't mean to." 

you can't help but let out a little giggle, and she falls back onto the bed, throwing her arm over her eyes. "it's not funny!" 

"it kinda is," you tease, but your laughter dies in your throat when you see a small wet patch on her pants where the base of the strap touched the fabric. 

you lick your lips, letting your eyes drop to her bra and thinking of the skin it so cruelly hid. 

"it was really hot, too." 

@abbysbug @abbys-gay @abbysunderwear @moonalumi @andersonsprincess

@abbysgirl1 @totalfinalgirl @90yearoldbear @hypnagogics @pretty-forest-nymph

@sapphicxprincess @carti9 @seraphicsentences @wxwrites @veraandrea7

all done yayaya. i dont know why i cant write something under 1k words like i told myself this was gonna be short and then i hit 4 pages and was like oopsies. u better like it bc i have a huge exam tomorrow that i shouldve been studying for but instead i was writing this erotica to post on tumblr.com. so go ahead and smash that subscribe button and reblog a billion times and comment your favorite part of this video (erotica posted to tumblr.com)

kay night night western hemisphere baddies goodmorning/afternoon everyone else love u bye bye

[tonowarislut]

Gym Bro Abby blurb

Sfw, objectifying Abby’s muscles a little while she shows you how to use a machine, gym meet cute. No implication of reader’s weight or athleticism.

The front desk staff of the gym know Abby by name. She comes at the same time nearly every day like clock-work. She was there so often that she knew the face of nearly every other regular. You had joined the gym as a new year’s resolution of sorts, knowing somewhere in the back of your head that it could be your first and last time there.

Abby almost scared you the first time you came in . Her intense, unwavering stare made you feel even more insecure than when you walked in the door, but she looked away after realizing how long she was looking.

You had spent 20 minutes on the elliptical and were wandering about the gym trying the weight machines. Some of them made no sense to you, looking more like medieval torture devices than tools for building strength. You must have been examining one for too long, since a voice hummed from behind you, “need some help?”

Your immediate gut reaction was to refuse, having rather given up than embarrass yourself trying. But your mind went blank at the woman in front of you. She was practically pure muscle, sleeveless tee highlighting her broad shoulders and bulging biceps. Oh shit, she asked you a question. “Oh no, I’m alright, thank you.” You looked back at the machine, cables and weights strung over a tall cage-like frame. “I don’t think it’s quite my speed anyway.”

She huffed a short laugh, stepping forward to rest a hand on the machine, “it’s not too hard, promise. It’s anybody’s speed if you know how to use it. I can show you if you’d like?” she offered, smiling.

You were struck by the offer, nodding silently in affirmation. Not only were you too polite to decline, but Abby was too attractive to send away. So she circled the machine, pointing out all the moving parts and where you might get pinched. Then, she straddled the bench at the center to demonstrate. Her shorts rid up her thickly muscled thighs as her legs spread wide over the seat. She grabs the bars in front of her and easily pulls the down, doing a rep of ten pulls. She stood and wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, “there, not too bad, right?”

You were shaken from your staring, “yeah, thank you. I think I got it now.” You rounded the machine to sit on the bench and pull down the bars, to no avail. For a moment you thought you might be using the machine wrong, but your eyes nearly bulged out of your head at the amount of weights Abby had racked on it. You shyly moved the pin to a more manageable weight, and strained to lift and lower the weights in bursts until your arms felt like they would flop like noodles. Abby watched all the while, resisting the urge to guide your movements with rough, chalky hands. She wanted to praise you for letting her guide you, and for pushing yourself.

Abby knew how annoying it could be for someone to try chatting you up during your workout. She tried to convince herself that she was different. She was only trying to help, and she kept her hands to herself as best she could despite her urges. She was brought back down to that level, though, when she asked for your number without thinking. She regretted the words after they left her mouth when she saw how your eyes widened, but she was ecstatic when you shook off the initial surprise and handed her your phone to create a contact. She never thought that it would actually work, approaching you like some gym bro, but it had gone off so much better than she thought.

Just for funsies

[tonowarislut]

☆F.U.C.K

Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, also, written at 2am, established friends with benefits, self-indulgent smut, dom!Abby, shower sex, strap on (r!receiving), strap referred to as a dick/cock Word Count:2.08k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ The next fic I have based on a song will not be as fun! Just a heads up. Also, two works back to back within a few hours? We're so back

FWB!Abby who isn't known to be very open about her sexuality. Sure, there are rumors, and there are people she's told that she's lesbian, but that list is pretty limited to close friends. It's not that she's trying to hide it, anyone with working eyes who takes more than a second or two to look at her can tell, she just doesn't feel like it's anyone's business but her own.

And yours of course.

Abby's never been particularly sappy or romantic. Still, despite how intense her day-to-day is - fighting Scars, killing infected, being on high alert at every turn because there's no way of knowing what will be the next thing to try and kill her first - she's a bit of a thrill seeker in her own way. The idea of doing something seemingly forbidden, the rush of nearly getting caught doing something less than savory, has never failed to be a turn-on for her and it's something that, over time, you've become acutely aware of. She's gotten into the habit of dragging you into bathrooms, and storage closets, sometimes even taking it upon herself to get handsy underneath tables when in the presence of others just to see that nervous look you get.

It should be no shock to you that she'd do something like this and yet, you're still baffled.

The showers were peaceful today, it was late and most people were either asleep or just waking up for their own shifts. After a long patrol, all you wanted to do was turn on the hot water and let it soak over your aching muscles, washing the blood, dirt, and sweat that had accumulated on your skin down the drain. You weren't expecting to feel a large pair of hands gripping at your waist in the shower, and if you hadn't known better, you might have started swinging.

"Abby, what the hell?" You flinch a little under her grasp, and while you try to sound angry, the amused chuckle that forms with your words is hard to stifle.

"Nice to see you too" Abby mutters, already beginning an assault on your neck with her lips, trailing wet kisses down your skin as she speaks.

"I thought you said you were tired" You try and turn to face her but you're only met with a tightened grip on your body, forcing you to face the glass shower wall.

"I lied."

Before you can think up something snarky to say, Abby presses her front up against you further and you stiffen completely, the sensation of something that definitely isn't normally there now flush against your ass.

"What is that?" You question, turning your head in attempt to get a look at whatever it is she's got rubbing against you, but again she forces your eyes forward, grabbing your chin to make you face the wall again.

"I want you to guess." She purrs, nipping at your earlobe, unable to stop herself from letting out a low chuckle. "C'mon, baby, I know you remember. That shop we passed by the other day? You were all curious about it, but we never got the chance to really look around."

In order to somewhat jog your memory, one of her hands releases its grip on you, wrapping around what she has and pressing it between your soaked thighs, shallowly thrusting it between them. Your breath hitches at the feeling and the memory comes flooding back into your mind. It was a few days back - Manny had pointed out an old sex shop and being the man he is he just couldn't shut up about it. Mostly he'd bragged about how, as much as he'd like to experiment, his own hands and body got the job done just fine.

In the moment it was funny, and a little stupid. The three of you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the interior, seeing some of the different toys that hadn't been looted or destroyed and joking about all of the time people in the Old World must have had to be so experimental with their sex lives. Unbeknownst to you, one toy in particular had caught Abby's eye. She didn't point it out to you or Manny, but right before you all had to leave, the rest of your patrol group having already started packing up to head back to base, she'd hidden it so that she could go back for it later. And she did.

"Figured it out, pretty girl?"

Abby's voice snaps you out of your head and you nod, coaxing another low chuckle out of her.

"You wanna see it?"

The moment her hold on you loosens you turn around, eyes panning down her toned, naked frame to the black harness that was fixed around her hips and landing on the toy that had just been sliding up against your cunt. Your eyes widen at the sight of the thick, purple silicone toy dangling from her body, and as much as you'd like to deny the immediate heat that rises in your belly at the sight of it, you can't.

"I don't think that's gonna fit. And...and what if we get caught, Abs you can't just hide that thing"

You say it without much thought, your words forcing a genuine laugh out of your 'friend'. She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes.

"You worry too much, baby. I locked the door. If someone comes knocking, I can just get out and tuck it in my bag before we open the door" She reassures as she gently guides you by your waist to the fogged-up wall, pressing you against it. "And trust me, once I get you nice and warmed up, it'll fit"

Abby sinks to her knees in front of you without another word, settling herself between your legs and dragging her tongue along your slit. The doubt that was once present in the front of your mind quickly starts to fade as she laps at your dripping heat, your hands weaving into her wet hair and holding on to keep her in place. You feel the tip of two of her thick fingers dip into your pussy, coating the digits with your arousal before slipping them into you completely.

She never failed to have this effect on you, and if it weren't so sexy, it'd be frustrating. Your mind is so quick to go blank under her touch, hips unconsciously grinding against her tongue as she swirls it along your puffy clit. Abby's unusually slow about it at first, curling and scissoring her fingers in and out of you, making sure to prepare you as best she can, but by the time she slips in a third finger her impatience and excitement makes itself known. You're practically teetering at the edge of an orgasm when she pulls away from you entirely, a whine escaping you as you're denied a release.

"Abby..."

"Shh, baby I know" Abby murmurs, standing back up, smiling softly as she watches your brows fix together. "I want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something about the way she refers to it as her own, as if she'd grown it herself sends a shock of electricity through you, and you answer her with an eager nod.

"Atta girl, now be good for me and turn around" She instructs, pushing you flush against the glass when you obey her command.

Abby knows how badly you must be aching at this point, her own precum leaking down her thighs as her eyes rove over your back. Even so, she takes her time, fucking your thighs, calloused palms spreading your ass a bit to get a better view. She groans at the sight of your essence combining with the water, making the dildo glisten in the fluorescent lights.

"God, you're so fucking wet" She whispers. "So ready to get split on my fuckin' dick, aren't you?"

The desperate little whines and the way you wiggle your ass back onto her is all the confirmation she needs to slowly push in, though, to neither of your surprise with how soaked you are, it proves to be rather easy. The difference is almost funny to her. You looked so nervous when you'd seen it initially, and now you were sucking her in like you were used to it.

"There ya go, slipped in so fast baby, fuck"

The way Abby moans when the toy is all the way inside of you, the way she struggles to keep at a slow pace to make sure you're well adjusted to the girth - you'd think she could feel it. It's an adjustment for both of you, the task of keeping it from fully slipping out of you when she pulls back proving to be a tad more annoying than she thought it would be, but she figures it out. And, God, if it isn't fucking worth it when she does.

Each thrust is like a shock to your system, Abby's pace only increasing as she loses herself in the moment. She could probably - and likely will end up - cumming from this alone. It was already a bit of a fantasy in her mind, having often wondered what it would be like to fuck you like this, but she didn't think she actually could. Her vivid blues are transfixed on the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin only made more intense by the water flowing along your bare bodies.

"A-Abby I- oh my god, please!" Words barely come out of you, and when they do, they're choppy breathless rambles with no real substance. Normally you were so careful about volume, but there are always times when she'd fucked you so stupid that you stopped caring. This, for example, being one of those times.

"So fuckin' pretty...you look so fuckin' pretty trying to take it for me" Her grip on your hips is bound to leave bruising, but all you can think about is how grateful you are for that fact. If not for her hands, you'd be on the ground by now, legs shaking and unable to hold your weight any longer.

Abby knows your tells well enough to see when you're about to explode - the incoherent sobs, twitching legs, your hands desperately trying to grab onto everything - anything that could possibly help ground you even a little bit. It only eggs her on, her arm snaking around your body to rub feverishly at your aching clit, almost impatient in her need to watch you come apart for her.

"Fuck, don't stop Abby, please, 'm so close...so fuckin' close" You manage to blurt out, damn near crying at the intensity, eyes rolled into the back of your head, head lulled forward against the wall. It's taking everything in you not to fall apart this instant but you want to drag it out for just a little longer.

"Almost there, honey, I got you... C-c'mon, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking cock"

The white-hot intensity of your orgasm sends you reeling, a string of curses and choked cries spilling from your lips, arousal further wetting your inner thighs as it spurts out of you. Abby can't help but moan loudly at the sight, continuing to pump in and out of you to let the base of the toy bump against her clit more, her own climax following soon after yours.

Somehow, Abby manages to stay upright despite her legs feeling like putty, knowing full well that if she falls you'll go down with her. Her strong arms wrap around you tightly as she pulls out of you, her sweaty forehead resting against your back as you both work to catch your breath.

"Fuck..that was..." She trails off, the actual strain of her actions hitting her body, making it difficult for her to get a word out between breaths. You giggle at the sound of her struggle, though you aren't doing any better.

"So fucking good.." Is all you breathe out, your mind still too fuzzy to think of something better to say.

Abby just nods, lacking the energy to say something snarky in response, the only sound remaining being the now cold water from the showerhead pitter-pattering against the ground, though eventually, she does force herself to speak up once more.

"Once I....catch my fuckin' breath...we're so doing that again"

Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,

[tonowarislut]

COOKIES YOU LIKE (Christmas special)

(Ellie Williams x Abby Anderson x reader)

TW: suggestive, no outbreak au, polyamory

SUMMARY: your girlfriends help you decorate cookies…what they write on the cookies, though…

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I don’t even know where this idea came from.

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

It was officially the time of year when your family had their annual Christmas party. You were always on dessert duty, since you made the best sugar cookies. Once December 23rd rolled around, you made two dozen cookies, and brought them to the gathering the next day, where every last cookie was eaten. It was a lot of work, but it was worth it.

This year, it would be even better, since you had your girlfriends to help. Even though you’d be separated on Christmas Day, it was your first holiday season together.

They arrived just as you took the final batch out of the oven.

“It’s so freaking cold!” Ellie told you.

They slipped off jackets and boots, and seemed to warm up after a few kisses.

“I need you two to help me decorate,” You explained. “Everyone will get eight cookies. Slap some frosting on, maybe add sprinkles, and move on. Understood?”

“Yes, chef.” They said in sync. Your commitment was amusing.

You all got to work. You were so focused that you barely heard their small snorts or giggles.

“What’s funny?” You asked after a few minutes, eyes locked in the cookie you decorated.

“Nothing.” Abby mumbled.

You were suspicious, and finally looked up. Ellie’s finished cookies quickly caught your attention.

“Ellie! Williams!” You exclaimed. “Why the fuck does your cookie say ‘BALLS’?!”

The girls burst out laughing. You stormed to Ellie’s side of the table, frustrated. There were…more than one dirty cookie. There were five that slowly got nastier.

“Ellie, come on!” You whined.

They forced themselves to stop cracking up. Ellie pulled you onto her lap, her arms around your waist.

“Don’t be mad at me.” She mumbled into your shoulder.

“I’m down five cookies!” You groaned.

“Do you really need so many?” Abby asked, curious.

“Yeah, everyone always takes one or two.” You sighed. “I can’t give my grandma a ‘BOTTOM’ cookie.”

Abby choked on a laugh, and Ellie swallowed hard.

“You know…” Ellie’s voice broke when she spoke. “They’re not all bad.”

You looked back at her, eyebrow raised.

“How cool is your family with swearing?” She asked. “Cause this cookie just says ‘FUCK’ and without any context it could mean anything-”

Abby muffled her laughter by shoving her face into her hands.

“I’m not giving them that cookie.” You said firmly.

“Alright…what about this?” Ellie pointed to another cookie that simply read ‘EAT ME.’

“Maybe that.” You admitted.

“Great!” She responded enthusiastically, trying to hide her urge to giggle.

You sighed again. “Just fucking laugh.”

She immediately buried her face in your shoulder. Before you knew it, you were laughing too.

“I’m sorry.” Ellie said, almost sobbing. “You got so intense with this…I wanted to make you laugh.”

“Whatever.” You shrugged. “I can scrape the frosting off.”

Once you all caught your breath, and wiped your eyes, you looked at the cookies, then back at them. Ellie smirked when you did. She was happy that you had eventually found this funny.

“Who wants to slip a ‘FIRE D’ cookie?” You asked.

“I want your cookie, babe.”

“Ellie!”

[tonowarislut]

✦•·················• 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐳 •·················•✦

abby anderson x fem reader | wicked au

wicked has taken over my brain completely this week and i had this idea while watching gelphie edits on tiktok! i might make this a series if it does well 🤍

your arrival to shiz was nothing short of magical. the scenery is something out of a storybook, the buildings resemble the palace from your favorite fairytale.

you step off your boat, kissing your dear parents goodbye and stepping into the quad with as much courage as you could muster. it’s overwhelming, truly, being thrust into a new environment.

the illusive madame morrible takes center stage, introducing herself and welcoming us all.

“welcome, students, to shiz university. your roommate assignments are posted at each corner of the quad.”

you walk over to one of the signs, searching for your name. you hope whoever you’re paired with is nice enough. that’s what you had the most trouble with. you heard stories of girls being stuck with awful roommates at shiz. your finger trails the list until you spot your name.

y/n and abigail anderson

abigail. okay. a new best friend, perhaps? you wonder what she’s like. what’s her major? does she play sports? is she more introverted or extroverted?

the room is on the second floor. you carry your pink bags up the stairs, eyes landing on room 201. opening the door brings a bright smile to your face. it’s gorgeous. the dark wood and floral ceiling details make your heart swell. it’s perfect.

the door clicks, and your eyes widen.

at least five foot ten, skin adorned with the cutest freckles you’ve ever seen. her biceps strain the fabric of her shirt. she has a stoic expression on her face, practically unreadable.

“you must be abigail! i’m y/n, it’s great to meet you” you greet her, glossed lips perking up in a sweet smile.

“uh, yeah. that’s me. just abby” she replies awkwardly. she looks around and sees what you’ve already set up. pink desk, pink vanity, pink bedding and a closet already filled to the brim with frilly pink clothing.

she sighs, opening her bags and getting her side of the room ready in silence. she’s the complete opposite of you. no decorations apart from a framed picture of her and a middle aged man, assuming her father. her clothes are plain, a lot of grays and blacks.

“so…” you start, “what’s your major? i’m in sorcery.”

“same” she replies shortly. you find her disinterest with you a bit strange. she doesn’t even look at you as she speaks, focused completely on unpacking.

“are you taking oz history? i have it at eight tomorrow with dr. dillamond.”

“yeah, same” she says. “i’m a morning person, so i should be fine.”

you smile. even if it’s small, her adding to the conversation is worth something. you hope that she’ll warm up to you eventually. you’ve always been friendly, and maybe some of that will rub off on your new roommate.

the first week of school at shiz is decently successful. you make some friends, meet your professors, and your adjusting just fine without your parents. abby, however, is still an issue. she leaves early for your shared class, seemingly so she doesn’t have to walk with you. she eats in the dinning hall by herself, studies in the library alone, and never talks to you without being prompted. she doesn’t even interact with you in spells and sorcery club.

you’re so frustrated. why doesn’t she like you? is she just bad at making friends? you don’t understand.

on sunday evening, while abby is at the library, you get ready for bed. you slip on a silk, pink nightgown and matching pink slippers. you grab a pen and paper, and begin writing.

dearest mumsie and popsicle,

this week has been good, but my roommate is not fond of me. i’m trying to be friendly, but i thinks it’s safe to say that she detests me. i miss you both dearly, i can’t wait for oz day break!

love,

y/n

the door opens, and abby eyes you up. you look so pure in your little nightgown, holding your pink pen. it makes her skin crawl, her face flush, and her head reel. she has a hard time describing her feelings towards you. but she settles on one word.

loathing.

she loathes the fact that you occupy her thoughts. she loathes the fact that she can smell your sweet perfume in any room you were in before her. she loathes how social you are. she loathes how effortlessly pretty you are. with your stupid makeup and stupid pink dresses that barely reach your mid thigh. she loathes how kind your words are. loathes how every word you say sits in her head for hours. it drives her insane.

“hi, abby. how was your studying?”

“it was fine. i’m no good at history.”

you giggle. god, she loathes that adorable giggle too. “aren’t you from the emerald city? i assume it was shoved down your throat.”

“i guess so,” she sighs. “i kinda tuned it out. it being shoved down my throat had the opposite effect.”

“i could help you, you know. i’m good at history.”

abby huffs. why are you so insistent? she doesn’t need help. from you or for anyone. but when you look up at her with those precious eyes, her mouth opens before her brain even works.

“that’d be great.”

you internally cheer. finally, you’re getting somewhere!

“good! we can go to the library tomorrow.”

that next week, you and abby spend every day in the library. while the conversations are mostly about oz history, you learn a little bit more about abby. you learn that she likes to read old books. she plays desertball in her free time. she takes walks off campus often, with no destination. she just enjoys being outside.

around eight pm on friday night, you and abby are still in the library. it’s empty, besides the two of you and the librarian.

“you’re really improving, abs!” you smile, sneaking in a new nickname. “i think you’ll do great on monday’s quiz.”

there you go with those sweet words. the words that make abby’s stomach twist.

“a bunch of us are going down to the ozdust tonight. do you wanna go?”

“i don’t think so,” abby replies. “not really my scene.”

you pack up and start walking back, a bit disappointed.

“if you won’t come, will you at least help me pick a dress?”

“uh…i guess so.”

back in the dorm, you hold up three dresses. one is pink sequin, one is pink with with lace, and one is white with pink flowers.

“i think i should try them on, so you can see what they really look like.”

abby’s mouth goes dry the second you start taking your uniform off, face to face with your pink lace bra and matching panties.

that’s the final thing abby loathes.

how much you turn her on.

she doesn’t mean to look at you like that, but she just can’t help herself. every time she sees you in your tiny dresses, her eyes linger. when you come back from the communal showers with your pink silk robe, her brain short-circuits at the thought of you being completely nude underneath. it drives her insane.

“abby? what do you think of this dress?”

she snaps out of her thoughts, you’ve already put one of the dresses on. you look gorgeous, the dress highlights all your curves, the lace on the sleeves is absolutely stunning.

“u-um…it looks nice. really nice.”

you giggle. “i guess i’ll go with this one, then.”

abby sits on her bed while you get ready, curling your hair and applying your makeup. she feels sick. you’re so nice, you look so pretty, and now she has the imagine of you in nothing but a bra and panties burned into her brain. and you’re going out in that tight dress and abby feels like her head is gonna explode.

“i’ll be back before midnight. bye abby!”

she waves goodbye and collapses onto her pillow the second you leave.

she tries to calm down. she goes to the gym, she takes a freezing cold shower, she studies for her remedial sorcery class, but no amount of distractions will get rid of the picture of you in her head. she loathes this feeling. maybe she loathes how you make her feel, not you yourself.

she’s trying to sleep, but every time she closes her eyes she sees you. and then her imagination starts to go against her will.

“abby, will you take my dress off?”

“abby, you’re so muscular and strong.”

“abby, please kiss me.”

“abby, you make me feel so good-”

her thoughts are interrupted by the door swinging open. there you are, hair slightly frizzy but still as perfect as ever.

“hey abs? why are you still up?”

“couldn’t sleep. did you…have fun?” she asks

you pout. “not really. my friends left me to go hang out with a group of boys.”

“why didn’t you go with them?”

“they were all paired off. plus, i’m not really interested in flirting with boys.”

abby’s eyes widen.

“will you unzip my dress for me? i’m so sleepy.”

oh, this is horrible. abby feels like she’s gonna faint as she unzips your dress. this is exactly how her stupid fantasy started. the stupid fantasy where she gets to taste every inch of your sweet body.

“thanks, abs. you’re so sweet” you say. you change into your nightgown and turn back to face abby.

“i hope you’ll come out with me next time. it’d be much more fun with you.”

“yeah…maybe.”

you stand on your tiptoes to kiss her cheek, getting a pink, shiny mark on her face. “goodnight, abs.”

you crawl into bed, falling asleep immediately. abby is stilling standing there, jaw dropped.

she didn’t loathe that. not one bit.

i hope yall enjoyed! this is my first actual long fic. let me know if you want a part two 🤍🤍🤍

[tonowarislut]

Part 2 to the Trucker Ellie x Hitchhiker Reader

C/W: nsfw, fingering (r! receiving), strap on sex (r! receiving), pussy slaps because I can’t help myself, a little size kink bc the 8” strap is big according to reader (size queens don’t @ me), ~2.5k words, not beta-read

You’d opened the bathroom door to Ellie tightening a harness around her hips. From the center hung a thick purple dildo. She pulled a bottle of lube from a backpack on the floor beside the bed. “You can take eight inches, yeah?” Ellie asked as she squeezed a generous amount of lube along the length of her cock.

You found the question a little silly, “I’ve never really measured before…”

Ellie looked at you amusedly with a laugh. “So maybe not? I’ve got smaller if this is too big.”

You backtracked, “no! It’s okay, I just… wasn’t expecting it, I guess.” You looked down at the ugly hotel carpet, not noticing Ellie’s grin widening at the idea that she could be the biggest you’d ever had. It inflated her ego, just a little.

She sat back on the mattress, legs spread to pull you close between them. One of her hands went to her cock to spread the lube, stroking it like it were her own. Her still wet hand slid between your thighs and along the length of your pussy. She circled your hole before dipping two fingers in you to prep you. Ellie's hands were cold, her thin fingers calloused from the strings of her guitar; her palms rough from lifting cargo and repairing the rig. They squeezed your hips as Ellie eyed you, "I want you to ride it." She licked her lips and looked up to meet your eyes. From where you stood over her, Ellie's green eyes sparkled.

You inhaled sharply, feeling your wet panties cling to your folds as you shifted in her hold and searched for friction. "Yes, Ellie… please" She stroked the dildo through your folds, the sound of your slick reaching her ears.

"You ready, honey?" she asked as she tapped against your clit.

Her eyes stayed fixed on you as you nodded. You gripped her cock in your hand, guiding it to your folds. Your hips sank, and you gasped as the tip popped into your folds. You took a moment to adjust to the stretch, moving your hips in circles to ease the sting. Ellie's hands gripped your hips firmly, "doing so good, baby.." Ellie whispered with eyes locked on your pussy being filled by her cock. You bit into your bottom lip and ground your hips, moving slowly up and down. The burn was easing into a pleasurable warmth,

You panted, tipping your head back to close your eyes. Ellie's hands rubbed up and down your hips and thighs, gripping tight as though she would never, could never, let go. "Fuck, look at you. Feels good, pretty girl?" She squeezed your hips to feel the softness, to see it pressed between her fingers.

All you could let out through your panting was a whine, "fuck..."

Ellie laughed, fondness in her eyes and practically drooling. She leaned in to press slow, wet kisses against your shoulder. Your chest rose up and down, breasts pressing against hers. "It's so deep, huh?" Her tongue slid from the base of your neck to your chin, pressing a soft kiss below your ear before sucking the skin into her mouth. Your jaw fell open, panting and leaning into her touch as she marked you with her tongue and teeth. You flinched as she sealed it with a firm bite and a soft, sweet kiss. She whispered breathily in your ear, "You can take more though, yeah?" You shivered at the puffs of Ellie's words against your ear. You could hear the smile in her voice.

Ellie's hands once again took your hips into a tight grip, guiding you to grind your hips in circles, "just like that, honey, taking my cock so well." She guided you to grind down and take in the last few inches before you were sat fully on Ellie's lap and let your head rest on her shoulder.

The strap felt like it was in your stomach, pressed against your cervix and stretching you to your limit. Your eyes were closed and brows furrowed as you attempted to catch your breath. Every shift of your hips sent a shiver up your spine.

Ellie stroked up and down your waist to ground you, impatiently waiting for the go-ahead as you became more comfortable and lifted your chin from her shoulder. You practically glowed from where you sat above her, the dim lamp light casting highlights on your cheekbones, your spit-slicked lips, and the swell of your breasts. She pressed a gentle kiss to your ear and huskily whispered “you doing okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, glancing down at where your hips met Ellie’s and huffing out “s’good, ‘s jus’ so big, Els.”

She grinned, gripping your hips and guiding them to rock with hers. She patronized you, “s’good, huh?” and she bucked her hips up against yours to make you yelp. You pressed your palms to her lower stomach, pausing to regain your bearings. “C’mon, baby. Go ahead and take what you need. I want to see you ride my cock,” Ellie coaxed you with a slap to one of your ass cheeks.

You but your lip in an attempt to muffle your moans, but as you pushed up onto your knees to lift off of Ellie’s dick you let out a high whine. The friction burned, fueling the fire of the orgasm Ellie had sparked. You sank back down the length of her cock, a groan breaking the seal of your lips. You ground your hips slowly up and down, quickly growing tired with how your thighs trembled and your knees ached. “Ellie…” you panted as you rested on her lap. Still hungry for friction, you ground your hips back and forth to hold you over.

She took your chin between her index finger and thumb, tilting it to lock eyes with you. “Yes, baby?”

“Please…” you whined, “Ellie… help.”

She chuckled, “you need help, huh? You getting tired on me now, baby?”

You couldn’t help but pout with how Ellie spoke down to you, “mhm, Els please I can’t… ‘m too shaky to keep going.”

Satisfied at your pleading, Ellie took you by the hips and pulled them up. Thinking she’d drop you back down onto her cock, you gasped in shock when the tip left you with an obscene pop. “No, wait-“ but Ellie left no room for arguing.

“Hands and knees, c’mon,” she ordered while shoving her hands beneath your back to flip you onto your stomach. You took a moment to register her words but clambered to follow them by pulling your knees up under you. You turned back to watch Ellie as her warm hands caressed your hips and backside, spreading your cheeks to gaze at your glistening pussy. “So pretty, baby…” she whispered as her thumb stroked from your hole to your clit, gathering the slick to rub soft, slow circles that had you melting into the mattress. “And so wet, too,” she mused.

Ellie took her heavy cock in hand and tapped the tip against your clit, just enough to make you jump a little.

“You ready?” Ellie whispered.

You bite your lip and nod, watching over your shoulder as Ellie drags the tip up and down your slick folds. You gasp as it catches on your opening, and the pressure is back but much more intense and so much better.

Her cock eased in halfway before she started to thrust shallowly. “Yeahhh, jus’ like that honey. Pussy’s so good for me, takin’ me so well,” Ellie moaned. Your breathing picked up as you adjusted to the size of the cock splitting you wide open. Ellie could tell though by the way you groaned and twitched that your body was begging for more. She pressed her palm to your lower back to angle your hips, and sent a firm thrust straight into your cervix. Your jaw slacked, almost choking at the sudden fullness.

Ellie’s stilled as her hips met yours with a slap, pausing a moment to let you feel the size and weight of her cock as it filled you. Her hands groped your backside, grabbing your ass cheeks to spread them and admire the white ring around the base of her cock. Ellie knew you ached for more when you began to grind your hips against her pelvis. She grinned, finally able to take what she wanted from you, her way.

Ellie moved steadily at first, letting you feel the slow drag of silicone against your walls. It wasn’t long though until your whines and the swaying of your tits egged her on. She wanted to pull more of those sounds out of you, to be the only one that hears them. The curve of Ellie’s cock and the angle of her hips struck your sweet spot repeatedly. You couldn’t help but let out pathetic huffs and whines with every thrust that jolted you forward, only remaining upright by Ellie gripping you tightly.

Your shaky limbs struggled to keep you upright. Your incoherent pleas and voice cracks were sending Ellie into a frenzy, encouraging her to go faster and harder to help you reach your peak. A particularly sharp thrust knocked you off your hands and onto your elbows, hips still high in the air as Ellie pummeled your pussy.

At this point, any and all composure you had clung onto was slipping away. You tried to muffle your increasingly loud moaning (screaming more like it) into the mattress, gripping the sheets hard enough that your knuckles turn pale. A harsh tug to your scalp lifted you off the mattress, releasing a groan of complaint into the air. Ellie’s pelvis stilled against your backside, grinding her hips in circles to tease you. You felt the warmth of her breath against your ear, “none of that now, sweetie, I wanna hear exactly how I’m making you feel.”

You panted into the open air, your brain completely overcome by the burning heat in your stomach and the sting of Ellie’s hand in your hair. She scoffed and delivered a smack to your ass, “still with me, baby? I said don’t hide those pretty moans, understood?”

You were lurched forward with a punishing thrust before Ellie stilled. Pressed all the way inside, she could feel the tremble of your thighs under hers. “Yes, yes, please I’m sorry, Ellie. I won’t hide no more. Just please don’t stop, please,” you bawl.

Her grip on your hair slackened and you fell forward onto the bed. Ellie clutched your waist in her hands for leverage and rolled her hips into yours. She started slow, but you wouldn’t stop pleading for more so it didn’t last long.

Face down, ass up, drool leaking from your open mouth, you were seeing stars. You had never felt more cared for by anyone but Ellie, but she could fuck you like she hated your guts. Your moans were guttural, even unattractive if you were to hear yourself, but they had Ellie dripping. You would see in the morning imprints of her hands where they gripped your hips and waist, and especially on your ass where her hands and pelvis had slapped against you.

Ellie leaned down against you to press her breasts to your back. One arm wrapped around your waist to keep you in place, while another slid between your thighs. You jolted when two of Ellie’s fingers met your clit. She held your squirming body steady as she drew quick circles with the tips of her fingers. Your body continuously flinched like you were being shocked with a live wire. Your hips fought against her thrusts as the combination of Ellie’s strap and fingers sent you hurtling toward an orgasm. “Don’t go running from me now, sweetheart. You don’t want me to stop now, do you?”

You whined, “no! Please don’t stop, please, please, I’m so close.” You tensed and tried to calm the bucking of your hips.

“Oh baby,” Ellie mocked, “can’t just sit still and take this cock like a good girl.”

To be still at this moment seemed impossible to you, “Ellie, no, please I’m good, I just can’t…” you huffed, “I can’t help it, it’s too much!” Your stomach was tensing, the bubbling of your orgasm sure to boil over. “Fuck… oh fuck, Ellie! I’m gonna come. Please keep going, please!” You squealed as your pussy fluttered around her cock.

Ellie felt the push and pull of her cock getting more strenuous as your orgasm approached. Her hand between your legs swiped back and forth on your clit, your wetness spattering on your thighs. Ellie shoved her cock to the hilt inside you and ground the tip into your g-spot. You were a mess, watery pleas or “right there”s spilling from your lips.

Ellie’s lips grazed the tip of your ear as she leaned over you, “who’s making you come?”

You could hardly manage a response, able to manage “you…” but that wasn’t enough.

A slap to your pussy made you scream, “nuh-uh, baby. Try again.”

“Ellie…” you moaned weakly. You couldn’t see the smirk on Ellie’s face, but you could feel the renewed vigor in the roll of her hips and the rapid back-and-forth of her fingertips against your clit. You called out her name over and over. If the friction on your clit was like touching a live wire, then your orgasm was like being struck by lightning. Ellie remained inside you, but her fingers kept moving as they followed the bucking of your hips. “Ellie, wait, I already ca-ah!” and your voice was quieted by the sting of her palm once again.

“Jus’ one more, gimme one more and we’re done,” Ellie huskily whispered in your ear. Your clit pulsed after the smack and you were thrown into another orgasm. Ellie circled your clit gently to help you ride it out, pulling away when your whimpers turned distressed.

She leaned back, rubbing your back as it rose and fell with your heavy breaths. Your hips twitched with discomfort as her cock shifted in you with the movement. You felt exhausted, tender, vulnerable.

“I’m gonna pull out now, okay?” Ellie muttered in your ear.

You nodded, quietly pleading for her to do it slowly. She gripped her cock by the base to hold it steady and slowly drew her hips back. The strap left you with an obscene noise, bobbing to stillness where it hung from Ellie’s hips. A ring of foamy white had settled along the bottom, a sheen of it coating her cock from base to tip. Droplets of your come slid down the silicone, a string dribbling from the tip to the sheets below.

No longer supported by Ellie’s grasp, your hips sank to the bed. Ellie watched, entranced, as creamy white come trailed from your hole down your puffy reddened pussy. Despite how sensitive you were, Ellie couldn’t help but swipe her fingers through your lips for a taste. You whimpered at the stimulation and turned to look over your shoulder just as Ellie was spreading her two fingers apart and watching your come split between them. Your eyes widened when she took them into her mouth, closing her eyes and sighing dreamily at the taste.

Her eyes opened to meet yours and she popped the fingers from her mouth. With great effort, you turned into your back and reached out your arms to make grabby-hands at Ellie. She chuckled and crawled her way on top of you before flopping down onto you. She knocked the wind out of you since you expected her to lay down, not fall, on you, but she was quickly forgiven as she snuggled into you. Ellie rested her temple on your collarbone, occasionally pressing soft kisses to your chest. You tangled your fingers into her hair, scratching lightly at her scalp. She hummed and melted into you, arms wrapped around you tightly and closing any space in between. You drifted asleep with your legs tangled in hers and a puddle of drool forming where Ellie lay snoozing on your chest.

Thank you for reading! It’s been a minute since the first one and I didn’t expect it to get much love. I’ve been moving and just quit my second job so it’s a whirlwind over here, so I appreciate your patience with me :)

P.s. tumblr is saying all my links I try to insert are broken so I’ll add the link to pt one when tumblr stops hating me

[tonowarislut]

Trucker Ellie x Hitchhiker Reader

Sorta fluffy sort of nsfw and long. You shower together and you give Ellie head. TW S/A attempt

The open road was lonely. For days at a time Ellie would only interact with others through the windshield of her big rig. The CB radio was an option, but the truckers weren’t so kind to the only woman on the station. By no means was the job fun, but it paid well and kept her occupied. Three months in and Ellie had been able to send a good chunk of change back home, but she had a long road ahead before she would follow the money. At first, she had enjoyed the time and space to clear her mind, but after the first thousand or so miles it had gotten old.

Ellie was riding a country road past the exit to a dinky town when she laid eyes on your silhouette half a mile up at the onramp. You stood dangerously close to the road with your thumb raised in the air, the other shading your eyes to scope out oncoming cars. You piqued Ellie's interest for a multitude of reasons: you were probably overheating, and the closer she got the prettier you became, but most of all, you were hitchhiking so you must be either desperate or stupid.

Ellie down-shifted gears and pumped the brakes, managing to come to the safest stop she could without flying through the windshield or losing the trailer behind her. She could see the wide grin on your face as you jogged up to her passenger side. She rolled down the window as you hopped up the steps to lean against the door. Arms crossed beneath your breasts, you rested your forearms against the windowsill to make eye contact with her. She saw the blush of sunburn across your cheekbones and nose as you caught your breath and asked her in the sweetest voice "you got room for one more?"

Ellie sneered, "depends, you gonna tell me what the hell you think you're doing risking your ass flagging down truckers on the side of the road?"

You didn't let your smile falter, but this close Ellie could see the twinge of sadness in your eyes. You sighed, "I just wanna get outta here is all."

Ellie's composure wavered as she thought out what she was being confronted with. For months, Ellie hadn't spoken to women save for waitresses, gas station clerks, and the occasional hotel receptionist when her bed at the back of her truck cab felt too cramped or too cold. But these were brief, cold, transactional. She knew that if she didn't take advantage of you/of the situation, someone else would. Ellie's intentions were no better than any other touch-starved pervert sat at the wheel of a big rig, but she figured she was probably your best option. "Yeah, alright, get in. Where ya headed? I can take you close as I can get, but I won't go off my route. I ain't your taxi driver."

You brightened up and yanked open the passenger door, "fuck, anywhere but here, honestly. Thank you so much, you're saving my life here" you cheered as you swung your bag up into the cab and plopped down into the passenger seat.

Ellie smirked, thinking she might be able to keep you around for a while. She shifted gears and revved the engine, pulling back onto the road. "Anywhere but here it is, sweetheart," she affirmed.

Days in Ellie's truck were spent making awkward small talk and singing along to the radio. The open road wasn't so lonely anymore with you sitting next to her. Riding through a desolate plain, the sun was almost fully set when Ellie laid eyes on a rest stop sign. “I think it’s about time we turn in for the night.”

You hummed from where you were slumped in the passenger seat, eyelids heavy. Ellie held back a coo at how cute you looked all sleepy and comfortable next to her. She took the exit and parked the rig at the edge of the parking lot. One other semi was in the parking lot, but Ellie paid it no mind. She reached out to pat your shoulder, to which you awoke with a snort. "Come on, get up. You're gonna get a crick in your neck sleeping like that."

You rubbed your eyes sleepily and hummed in agreement. You accompanied Ellie to the restroom to sleepily brush your teeth and change into your pajamas. You finished before Ellie and made your way out of the putrid smelling restroom for some fresh air. You had nothing to do but wait since Ellie had the keys, so you wandered to the vending machines to pass time. 'Maybe I'll ask Ellie if we can get poptarts tomorrow morning...' you thought, before you heard footsteps approaching. You turned around ready to ask, "All done, Ell...ie?" but it wasn't Ellie. "Oh, sorry..."

He stood two steps from you, close enough that you were struck by the scent of menthol cigarettes and his stale, sour breath. "Ain't no thing, sweetheart," he cooed, "I dunno who this Ellie is, but I can surely keep you company til she gets back." He leaned in closer with a wide grin and you shrunk back against the vending machine, "I can show you a real good time, promise. Don't got much on me to pay ya for your services but I can show you a real good time."

You tried to look everywhere but in his eyes and crossed your arms over your breasts. "N-n-no thank you, sir" you managed to stutter, "I've really got to get going if you don't mind." You attempted to duck under his arm where you were caged, but you were only jostled as he firmly gripped your wrist. With a yank, you were pulled far too close for comfort.

His grin grew impossibly bigger as he huffed out a laugh, "So polite and so cute... but dumb as a rock if you think I was gonna letcha go that easy." You struggled to loosen his grip, pulling with all your might and leaning back with all your weight. Despite your best efforts, you were easily being towed toward a semi across the parking lot.

Still struggling, you cried out for Ellie, or anyone really, to help. Your cries were cut off as your head was whipped to the side by a slap. The man gripped your hair at the roots to force your eyes to meet his, "none of that, now. I coulda treated you real nice ya'know, but now ya did it. Any whore worth a dime woulda given in by now, but you like to play rough now, don't ya?" You sobbed as he leaned closer, the smell of cigarette ash and sour sweat nearly making you gag. From behind the foul-smelling man, you heard the woman you had been crying out for.

"I'm gonna ask you nice one time and one time only, let her go now." Ellie growled.

The man scoffed, "Oh yeah? I found her first, and I expect a whore wandering a truck stop parking lot to do her job."

"Or what, huh? You ain't gonna like what's coming to ya." Ellie adjusted her footing and held her fists up in a defensive pose.

He wheezed out a laugh and you flinched at the spray of spit over your shoulder, "oh I'm so scared of a scrawny little dyke, I oughta put you in your place the way you're talki-" but he was quickly cut off by a fist to the jaw. The man crumpled with a choking noise, and you nearly fell with him as he held his grip firm on your wrist. Tears in your eyes, you wrench at the man's forearm for him to release you. From Ellie's position above you, she reared her leg back and sent it flying in between the man's legs. He released your wrist to curl into a fetal position and cradle his injury, whimpering and choking all the way.

Finally freed, you scramble backward in fear to put some distance between you and the offender. You scratched furiously at your wrist where you could still feel the sweat from his palm and the bite of his fingernails.

With tears blurring your vision, you can see Ellie leering over the man. If it were directed your way, the look on her face would only make you cry harder. How she had reduced the man twice her size to a crying heap on the ground, you had no idea, but you were grateful nonetheless. Ellie sent one more kick into the man's gut before she bent down to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. She pulled out the cash in it and tossed it at the man where he lay whimpering on the ground. Ellie's gaze softened as it landed on you, and she sent one last look to the man on the ground before marching over and offering you her hand. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here before numb-nuts over here gets up." You gingerly accepted her hand and were surprised by the ease with which she pulled you to your feet.

You felt the burn of Ellie's pull in your shoulder as you stumbled behind her. She hastily unlocks the truck before boosting you into the cab with a grip on your hips. You sink into the passenger seat and she pulls herself up into the cab and pulls the door shut behind her. The second it closes, she clicks the lock. The truck revved to life and Ellie shifted it into gear. "We just gotta find some place else to turn in."

An almost inaudible "I'm sorry" was heard from the passenger side. Ellie sent you a confused glance before returning her focus to the road ahead.

"What have you got to be sorry about, honey?"

You looked down to your lap, "I couldn't protect myself so you had to save me, and you're exhausted but we have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight because I fucked up, Ellie. I just don't want to disappoint y-"

"You ain't disappointing me so don't be sorry. Isn't your fault that fucker couldn't keep it in his pants." Ellie interrupted.

You looked down at your hands in your lap, anxiously picking your nails. "Oh... well where are we gonna go now?"

"There's got to be a rest stop or motel in the next thirty or so miles. Just gotta find it."

And so the night went on, and you once again drifted to sleep in the passenger seat. Ellie occasionally glanced over to take in your peaceful expression. She recalled the tears in your eyes as you sat helpless in the dirt before her. When Ellie pulled up to a motel with a flickering neon "vacancy" sign. The brakes squeaked as she pulled to a stop, but you weren't stirred from your slumber. Whispering, Ellie promised you "no one else is gonna make you cry if I've got something to say about it."

She sat back in her seat to contemplate her next move. You wouldn't mind if she touched your face, would you? She wouldn't blame you for feeling averse to touch, but you looked so soft and you snored so cutely. 'Fuck it,' Ellie thought, before reaching out to cup your jaw and stroke her thumb along its length. The warmth of her palm pulled you from your slumber and you unconsciously snuggled into her touch. Your eyes blinked open and made contact with Ellie's intent stare.

You rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes and murmured "are we there yet?"

"Yep, wakey wakey, princess. I'm gonna get us some room and we can get some sleep. It'll be nice to have a proper bed and shower for once." You perked up at bed and struggled to stand from the passenger seat and climb down the steps of the too-high truck. 'How does Ellie get in and out of this thing, she's like 5'2'' you thought.

Ellie was kind enough to pay for a room with a queen bed and a pull out mattress. Ellie sighed and dropped her backpack onto the couch like a sack of bricks. "I'll take the couch."

Surprised, your wide eyes met hers, "you don't have to do that, Ellie. You paid for the room so you should take the bed."

Ellie ignored you, pulling out the sofa bed and plopping onto it with her arms crossed behind her head. "It's not up for discussion."

Your eyebrows furrowed. You were stubborn, but Ellie even more so. "Or we could share the bed?" Ellie suggested with wiggling eyebrows and a poor attempt at a wink.

You were not amused, "I'll take the bed, you take the couch." Ellie pulled out her phone to scroll online until she fell asleep.

It was approaching 11PM, and your skin was still crawling. You needed to scrub it away. "Ellie... I think I'm gonna take a shower. So I'll be right back, kay?" She nodded with eyes on her phone. You stripped from your clothes and turned the water as high as it could go. Turning to face the mirror, you assessed the damage. You had skinned knees from falling and bruises scattered across your arms and legs. In particular, your wrists had purple hand marks across them from where the man had tightly gripped your wrist. You continued to stare blankly until the mirror had fogged up from the steam and you were nothing but a blur in the mirror. You sighed and returned your attention to the shower running behind you. Stepping in, you hissed in pain at the heat but didn't turn it down. The burning pain was a distraction from the itching you felt where he touched you. You unwrapped a bar of hotel soap and scrubbed from head to toe, desperately trying to overcome the feeling.

As the hot water ran down your body, you thought of Ellie. For a moment, you hopes that she liked you, but how could she when all you did was get her into fights and eat away her earnings. Tears lined your eyelids and fell with the spray from the shower. You wallowed in sadness for a few more moments before you could hear a quiet knock at the door and a call of your name. You thought you could be quiet enough, but your crying was too loud and drew her in. You cleared your throat, "I'm alright, don't worry!"

"Well, I thought I heard crying so I wanted to check in on you."

"shit... it's okay, I just needed a second to let it out. I'll be out in just a few minutes."

"Nope, I'm coming in."

"No, wait!" but she had already pulled open that stupid barn door, it didn't hold in any noise.

"Ellie, I'm naked in here, what the fuck?!"

"I figured, usually that's how people shower."

"Ugh, you know that's not what I meant, now can you get out?"

"Not until you tell me why you were crying."

You peeked your head out of the shower curtain. She was serious, not just prying for the joke or the drama. Your eyebrows furrowed and mouth pinched in a frown, you hid back behind the shower curtain. "Thought it'd be obvious by now..."

"Was it the guy at the rest stop?"

You sighed, "yeah... no shit. You figured it out"

"He isn't gonna bother us anymore, you saw him eat shit when I hit him."

"I don't mean that he's going to chase us down, I mean that I can't stop thinking about it, the fucking smell and the way he grabbed me like I was just a piece of meat. I feel disgusting and I can't get the feeling to go away no matter how hard I scrub. We're miles away but I feel like I can't get away from him"

There was a pause for a moment and the ruffling of fabric, and you almost thought she had left the bathroom. What you didn't expect was for Ellie to step into the shower behind you. You squealed and attempted to pull the shower curtain to the side to cover yourself, but the cheap hotel fabric did little to cover your nakedness from her prying eyes.

"First of all," she starts, "you were taking way too long in the shower and I thought maybe you'd slipped and fell." She reached for the shampoo on the shelf behind you, your noses almost touching. "Second, you need to give yourself a little more credit." Ellie started to lather her hair, "you're so much sweeter than him, than me, and than this place. I'll betcha you've got better things at home waiting for you, but you stepped up into my cab instead."

You sighed as you attempted to shield your nakedness with your hands, "no one's waiting for me, Ellie.... and I think of all the creeps out there picking up hitchhikers you're the least creepy."

She snorted out a laugh, "creepy nonetheless, but you're not wrong. I've been creeping on you since I saw you stood on the side of the road."

Your face grew warmer. You couldn't help but like her attention and her closeness. Her eyes darted back and forth across your body as she spoke, but you had put all your effort into maintaining eye contact. "Matter of fact..." Ellie started as she stepped chest-to-chest with you, "don't think I haven't seen you staring at my fingers while I drive. I've seen you stiffen and press your legs together, and don't think I haven't seen the way you squirm in that seat when I'm real sweet on you."

Your cheeks were hot and your eyes were wide as you struggled to form words. Were you really that obvious?

"Don't get shy on me now," Ellie taunted.

Fed up with her teasing, you grabbed her face in your palms and smushed your lips into hers. Ellie stiffened with surprise, but let her lids fall shut and relaxed into the kiss. Your lips were so soft, but they moved against hers with fervor. Ellie surrendered her control, yearning for you to have your way with her.

You held her waist in your palms and stroked up her sides. Ellie shuddered; she hadn't felt the warmth and softness of a woman's touch in months. You cupped her breasts in your hands to give them a teasing squeeze that made Ellie gasp. "So sensitive..." you hum with a smile, circling her nipples with your thumbs. You leaned into her ear to huskily whisper "I wanna taste you, Ellie." You dotted soft kisses along the curve of her ear, "will you let me? Please? I want it so bad. I'm so hungry for your pussy, Ellie"

She nodded quickly and enthusiastically. Ellie could put up a tough facade, but to hell with it when she wants nothing more than to submit to you. You smiled warmly and knelt down onto the shower floor. Ellie backed up into the tiled wall and you situated yourself between her legs.

You took a moment just to admire her. Ellie shivered as you scratched your nails up her lean, prickly legs to grab her by the hips. You pulled them towards you to meet the patch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs. Your fingers slipped on the slick arousal trailing down her inner thighs as you spread her pussy lips. Her swollen clit peeked out from under its hood, and you leaned in to place a soft, sweet kiss to it that made Ellie flinch.

"Come on already, no teasing..." she grumbled.

You had to hold in a laugh at her whining, but you were just as eager as she was. You stuck out your tongue and licked a long, fat line up her pussy. You pulled back briefly to savor her taste with a gulp and a hum of satisfaction. "Tastes so good," you moaned out and licked your lips.

Ellie struggled to keep her eyes on you as you ate her out, rolling back in her head as you licked her sloppily. Her wetness smeared across your cheeks and ran down your chin. "So messy, baby, "you cooed to her as you pulled back for a breath. "Just for me, yeah?"

Ellie groaned and held her bottom lip between her teeth, gritting out a "yes, ffffuck, jus' for you."

"So cute..." you mumbled to yourself before rewarding Ellie with a harsh suck to her clit. Her back arched and a hand reached out to grab you by the hair. The tug at your scalp made you moan against Ellie's lips, only serving to heighten Ellie's pleasure with the vibration. She panted and held both sides of your head to rock her hips into your mouth. You moaned at her taking control, using you like a toy for her to fuck as she pleased. She pressed you closer and clenched her thighs around your head, squishing your cheeks together. You moaned at the pressure and being further engulfed in her smell.

Ellie groaned between heavy breaths, "so good, fuck... fuck me so good, honey." She was so sensitive, squirming despite your arms wrapped around her thighs. The heat between your thighs was becoming unbearably hot. You had somehow reduced this rough and tough truck driver to a whiny mess.

Ellie's thighs clenched tightly around your head, whimpering out a warning of "I'm, fuck I'm gonna-ah, I'm-"

"Gonna cum?" you taunted and gave her pussy a light slap.

"Yes, fuuuuck." A line of drool slipped from her mouth.

A grin stretched across your face, and you pulled one of her legs to sit atop one of your shoulders. You drew three fingers firmly up the length of Ellie's pussy. Rapidly, you stroked your fingers back and forth over Ellie's soaking pussy. Her head fell back with a near shout of "fuck!" Your arm strained where it was wrapped around Ellie's thigh on your shoulder as it tensed and squirmed with the bucking of her hips.

Expletives poured from Ellie's mouth as she endured the assault on her pussy, before words left her and she could only choke and squeal. Her wetness splashed against your hand and the inside of her thighs. Excitedly, you leaned in to taste her cum and feel her arousal splash across your face.

Ellie's hips and legs slowed their squirming, trembling instead. She let out a long breath and ran a hand through her hair. "Fuck."

You giggled as you clambered up onto your feet, "that's all you got to say?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Fucked the thoughts right out of my brain, sweet cheeks."

"Pfft! Sweet cheeks?"

Ellie gave you the biggest grin, "yes ma'am, I could see your ass wiggle and jiggle while you gave me head. A beautiful view."

You pushed her shoulder "oh fuck off, now let me finish my shower."

Reluctantly, Ellie pulled back the curtain and stepped out. "Yeah okay fine, but you got another thing comin when you get your sweet ass outta there."

[tonowarislut]

slumber party

bestfriend!abby x bestfriend!reader

summary: your best friend abby calls you up for a sleepover after having not spent time together in months.

clingy!abby, friends to lovers, college!abby, college!reader, fem!reader, y/n used once, medicalstudent!abby, fluff, minor angst but mostly it's one sided, no specific descriptions of reader other than them being shorter than abby and having their hair uncovered at night

wc: 3.2k

Abigail anderson. Your best friend since primary school. Your longest friendship. Your longest crush.

You hadn't always had a crush on Abby. Sure you loved her, but only really as a friend. That was, until junior year of highschool when her body had started noticeably changing. She started working out more, her biceps bulging through every tshirt. She had a growth spurt too, now almost towering over you. You yourself weren't that short but her stature made for a quite prominent difference.

You weren't usually shallow, But c'mon. Abby was already one of the best persons in your life; smart, caring, trustworthy. Turns out you only needed that little extra push to transform your platonic admiration for her into something else. This had been going on for 5 years and you had zero intention of ever letting her know.

It would just be way too risky, confessing something like that. What if she wanted to cut you off? What if she was disgusted by your feelings? What if being friends for so long bit you in the ass and she saw you more like a sister?!

And plus, dropping something like that on her when she was already swept up by her studies to become a doctor most of the time, would be horrible. You figured, you just had to let the feelings die. Of course it was taking much longer than expected, going onto the 6th year of having said crush, but it just had to be done.

So when Abby told you her dad would be out of town and that you should sleep over, you found yourself at a crossroads. You could go, and spend time with your best friend and it be a great night. Or you could go and be so incredibly uncomfortable hiding your feelings.

"Come on, we haven't had a slumber party in ages. I feel like we're always so busy we barely have any time for each other anymore. which is crazy for us!" Abby suggested as she spoke to you over the phone.

Yeah, totally not because I've been purposefully distancing myself to get rid of this festering crush.

You responded, "I mean , don't you have studying to do? I'll just distract you."

"Dont worry about me. Plus, you wouldn't distract me, you never do." She replied with her honey-like voice that would never cease to make you melt.

"We both know that's a lie but sure." You gave in. It was your best friend. Plus you really hadn't had time together in the past few months.

It was just a sleepover with Abby. All you had to do was act normal and it'd be fine. It's just Abby.

Abby answered the door when you arrived, immediately pulling you in a for a hug, stating how much she missed you and how long its been since you properly hung out, just the two of you.

"This place hasn't changed at all." you say, looking around at the familiar picture frames of her and her dad still plastered in their same spots on the walls.

"Yeah, we're both pretty busy all the time so," she trailed off. "You want anything to drink?" she asked, grabbing your overnight bag from you and heading to place it in her room.

"Nah, but I'll help myself, it's fine." you respond, following her into her room.

Her room has seen a few minor changes, none of which younwerent aware of though. It might have been years since you actually set foot into her bedroom, but you still saw it regularly. During your as frequent as possible facetime calls, you got to see through her camera the little changes she'd make to her walls. Even got to help in the decision process sometimes.

"It's been a while since you've been in here huh?" she asked, sitting on the edge of her bed, eyeing you as you peered at all her stuff.

"Yeah, cant believe how long it's been." you replied, distracted by the sheer amount of personality visible on her walls and desk.

Her college textbooks neatly tucked away on the side of her desk in a stack, near her pencil holder that held various shades of highlighters and pens. There were multiple pictures on the wall directly above her desk, along with many post it's of medical terms. Most of them were of her and her dad, or of her dog froma. few years ago, Alice. But right in the middle there were two of you and her. One from when you were much younger, closer to the time you first became friends and the other from your highschool graduation.

You made a mental note to take more pictures with her once you overcame your crush.

You looked around for a moment more, realising there was no mattress or anything on the ground. Sure, you slept on the same bed together before but that was when you were kids. Years ago.

"Soooo should I sleep on the couch or the ground?" you asked jokingly, secretly hoping she'd actually have an answer.

She laughed, "Oh come on, it might've been some time but we're not strangers." she joked with her beautiful smile.

Fuck.

You chuckled at this, hoping it seemed genuine and didn't expose the fear you felt of being so close to her for so long. Abby, however, noticed your shift in energy. Choosing not to say anything, she promptly changed the subject.

"Alright, what's for dinner?" she got up from the bed and led you both back out to the living room. Grabbing the TV remote, she put on one of her rnb playlists. "I was thinking we could cook something, chat and catch up for a bit then maybe watch a movie or something."

Gosh, she'd really thought this through. "Abby I hope that you don't have outstanding assignments due while you're doing all of this," you scolded her, already getting back into the groove of things.

She sighed, "Uugggghhh no, mom. I'll have you know that I am actually very ahead of my assignments. And even if I were behind, I'd still wanna be hanging with you tonight."

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow as she came around your frame to hug you from behind. You forgot how physically affectionate she was, and how much you missed it. You tried to not lean into it too much. The last thing you needed right now was to give yourself any false hope.

"I just- I really need this right now," she said with a sigh that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, dropping her head on your shoulder. You were so caught up in your own thoughts and feelings that you hadn't even stopped to think about how stressful school and everything must be for her. You turned your head slightly towards her, faces mere inches away from each other.

"I really need this right now and you're so fucking tense that I can't even give you a proper hug!" she stated, attacking you with tickles.

You screamed in laughter as she jammed her fingers into your sides, not giving up her mission to make you laugh. You tried running away but her grip on you was too strong, as expected of abby. Your attempts, however, did lead you to toppling over the couch, with her on top of you. She continued tickling you as you laughed, both smiling wide.

Through squeals and breaths you tried to reason it her, "Okay! Okay stop."

"There she is," she smiled, finally halting the tickles. You looked up at her, trying so very hard not to grab her by the collar and kiss her stupid.

She sat up, straddling your hips as you still lay on the couch, breathing heavily. You raised your head slightly, looking her directly in the eyes.

Gathering her breath, she started, "Okay. Now tell me, what's going on with you?" she asked, pushing her flyaways behind her ears.

Confused you asked, "Me?"

"Mhmm, you've been all distant and weird around me for quite some time." she supplied, hands resting on her thighs. her big, muscular thighs. snap out of it!

Shit, she noticed. "I-" you didn't know how to respond.

Worry evident on her face she continued, "Did I do something? Because if I did you gotta let me know, i- I've been so focused on school and-"

"No! no, n- it's not anything you've done. don't worry" you answered, "I guess I've just been feeling a bit...." you pulled something out your ass quickly, "lonely, lately."

Not entirely wrong. It was gonna have to work.

"I'm sorry." she replied, empathy clear on her face as she leaned forward to hold your arms. "But hey, I guess this came at the perfect time then huh? You won't be lonely tonight, I'll make sure of it. 'kay? Now let's go make something and you have to tell me everything that's been going on with you." she pat your thighs before coming off. Her weight would be a missed presence on your lap.

The music played at a comfortable volume as you two easily maneuver around the kitchen, cooking up a simple pasta dish. You talked about anything and everything, fully catching each other up on what the other had missed in their lives. In all your attempts at dodging her and keeping your distance, you'd forgotten why you two were best friends in the first place.

Abby was easy to talk to. She always knew how to cheer you up and how to comfort you. As did you to her. When you would hang out, there was always fun to ensue. Which is exactly why you fell in love with her. But as you were here, having chopped and prepared all the other ingredients and awaiting the water to boil, dancing and laughing around the kitchen hand in hand with Abby, you decided that just for tonight you could forget the complications that having a crush on Abby would cause and just lean into your best friend whom you missed so much.

When the meal was done, you both retreated to the couch where you sat closely next to each other in search of a movie to watch.

"I feel like nothing looks good," Abby stated, as she kept scrolling through the site.

"We could always hate watch something?" you suggested cheekliy, knowing that Abby was already not a big movie person and that it would be an utter waste of time for her to watch one that wasn't good.

"Ha ha very funny." she deadpanned, "What's that one you always wanted to watch when we were younger? Let's just watch that."

"Are you sure? Because you'll have to put up with me quoting almost the entire thing. And singing all of the songs." you weren't really asking seeing as she had already found the film, Tangled, and was ready to press play.

"I'll be fine pumpkin."

She hadn't called you that name in years. It was nice to hear it again.

As promised you quoted almost all of the movie, under your breath though, so as to not annoy Abby too much. It was more like a light whisper/lipsync. Unbeknownst to you, while you were thoroughly enjoying what was one of your favourite movies ever, Abby hadn't even been paying attention. She'd been looking at you for the majority of the film's runtime, only looking at the screen when you turned to look at her and found her not focused enough.

"You're missing important character development here Abby, he bought the apples for maximus!"

After the movie you both cleaned the dishes, then went to her room.

Another thing you forgot to consider in all your rumination, showering. You and Abby weren't the shower together type of best friends but it was definitely a 'not a big deal if we see each other naked' type of deal. So you'd often change into and out of clothes in front of each other with no problems. If the whole night so far wasn't gonna do it, this would be the fucking nail in the coffin. Abby, changing out of her clothes, right in front of you.

You didn't want to come off as suspicious by clearly turning away but you also didn't want to feel like a perv and look at her in her underwear, knowing full well that you wished it were under different circumstances. So you opted for casually directing your attention to somewhere else in the room as she stood naked a few feet in front of you.

"I guess I'll go in first," she annouced grabbing her towel and leaving the room.

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding as you quickly undressed and wrapped your towel around your body. You sat at the edge of her bed and waited for her to be done as you tried to calm your nerves.

It absolutely did not help your nerves when she stepped out of the bathroom and into her room, glistening from the shower. Muscles on full display, unbraided hair cascading down her back while some stuck to her face. She looked like a goddess. You quickly got up and headed into the shower, leaving her in her room to change.

It was like the more you decided to just let go of your feelings for Abby, the more she'd do things that made you fall for her all over again. You ended up taking way longer than usual in the bathroom, mustering up the courage to face her again while also trying to steady your heart rate.

Finally exiting the bathroom, changed and ready for bed, she closed the door, took off her bedroom light and hopped in right next to you. At first you both stayed silent, staring up at the ceiling, before she broke the silence.

"I'm really glad you were able to come," she expressed, turning on her side to face you.

You mimicked her position, scooting a little closer to the middle of the bed. "I'm glad I did."

You stared into each other's eyes for a moment, really taking the other in, before you spoke up again.

"You said you really needed this, what's going on with you?" you asked, poking a finger into her arm.

She looked down at where you touched her arm then back up into your eyes. Sighing with a smile, she responded, "School has been kinda stressful I guess, but to tell you the truth, I just missed you." She scooted closer to you, moving her hand from under her head to caressing yours.

No. She meant that as a friend of course. Do not get your hopes up again.

"You're tense again." she pointed out, hand still laying on your hair.

God, why was she so perceptive?!

"No I'm not?" you scoffed. Your deflection did not work on her.

"Yes you are. You've got that look in your eye again," she continued caressing your hair, "What's going on up there?"

You sat up, pulling away from her touch. She followed you in sitting upright on the bed.

You knew that lying about everything being fine would not work any better than it's been all day, so you figured you'd at least give her something.

"If I tell you, you might not want to hang around me anymore."

She looked at you incredulously. How could you ever think something like that? "Did you kill someone or something?" she teasingly suggested with a laugh, that being the only plausible situation in her head. She didn't miss how you looked at her, amusement absent on your face.

"Sorry, I just- no matter what it is, I won't stop being your friend y/n." she said seriously, one hand moving to touch your thigh.

"Please don't, because if I tell you and you really don't wanna be associated with me anymore it'll just hurt more." you barely got out, eyes becoming teary. You knew you were scared of something like this happening. Your increasing heartbeat and glassy eyes further proved just how terrified this made you.

If Abby wasn't worried before, she certainly was now. "Hey, I get to decide who stays in my circle and who doesn't okay?" She cradled your face.

You shook your head, still not giving into confession. "Everything's gonna change and I don't want it to so let's just forget it."

"If things have to change...then I'll just make sure it's for the better." How could she be so reassuring without even knowing what was going to be said? She held your chin, tilting your head to look at her.

With a sigh, you finally gave in, "I feel so much..love.....for you..since high school. And it's only gotten worse recently. I swear I've tried making it go away, I've tried so much. I don't wanna be a bad friend by springing this on you but i also know that trying and failing to hide it isnt doing me any favours either so.." Tears were streaming down your face, your sniffles becoming the most prominent sound in the room.

"And now because you know, things are never gonna be the same and I just wish I'd been better at hiding it. I wish I never had these feelings in the first place. Then this wouldn't be happening and I wouldn't have to lose my best friend right after we had so much fun together."

Abby was silent. Staring into your eyes, her expression unreadable. She looked down into her lap, a small smile growing on her lips, before looking back up at you.

She leaned forward till there was barely space in between the two of you. Abby glanced down at your lips then back up to your eyes, making it clear what she was referring to. "Can I?"

Your heart rate was through the roof. There's no way she wanted this too. "Are you not.. worried about how things are gonna be between us now?"

"I said I'd make sure the change was for the better, didn't I?"

"You can."

In what felt like zero time, Abby carefully crashed her lips onto yours. Her lips were soft, her touch gentle. It was exactly what you imagined this to be like.

Gently pulling away, she wiped your tears with her thumb, looking at you with so much love in her eyes you swore the rest of the world would now be void of it.

Through sniffles and smiles you apologized, "Sorry hah, I'm a mess."

"Did you really think I couldn't love you?" Abby asked, holding your face in her hands. "I've loved you before I even knew what love was, pumpkin."

Her efforts to wipe your tears were now fruitless, your eyes pouring out streams of emotion.

She pulled you in for a hug. This time, a proper one, without the weight of what could have been laying on your entire being. You shared one more kiss, Abby then kissing your forehead as you both lay down to finally sleep. A sleep void of worries and stress.

You were actually hers.

soooo sorry if that was basically 95% buildup for 5% payoff. I totally wrote this in a whim at late hours of the night. anyway, hope you enjoy. requests are open! to those whove requested, I am working on your stuff so have no fear :>

[tonowarislut]

it's kind of an old trend but i wanna do that thing where you walk up to ur bf/gf while they're doing something g like playing a video game or at a desk and straddling them and sitting on their lap for a hug and seeing what they do with abby:( she'd be so welcoming and ask if you were okay and give you the tightest squeeze!!! could you maybe write something with this? if not that's okay lovely !

this is so cute! i will absolutely write this. (i'm sorry it's so short)

masterlist

i can imagine gamer! abby sitting at her desk playing whatever game she's playing (i'll leave that up to your imagination). usually she spends her friday and saturday nights playing on her PC. except for the nights when you were with her. except for this one. she had just unlocked a new level that she was dying to play, and of course she felt awful when she asked if she could play while you were at her apartment. you just loved seeing your baby happy.

so that's how you ended up here; laying on abby's bed while her back is to you, her eyes and mind fixated on the computer screen in front of her. she was locked in, veiny hands and thick fingers prodding at the controller. her nose is scrunched and her eyebrows are fluffed up, intensely focused.

being bored while she plays, you'd seen the tiktok trend where people would sit on their partners lap and film their reaction, and you wanted to try.

so you shuffle out of her bed, leaving the warm sheets to trot over to her side. when you enter her peripheral she doesn't bat an eye, just staring at the screen. you shimmy in between her and the desk, putting your legs in each of the holes under the armrests.

you half expect her to get mad at you for interrupting her game time, but she doesn't. abby sits back in surprise, holding her controller in one hand as you situate yourself on her beefy thighs. she leans back to take you in, pressing pause on her controller.

"whats wrong, baby girl?" she coos, "you okay?"

you nod, burying your nose into the crook of her shoulder. she sits still for a moment, her heart beating in sync with yours. until she wraps her arms around your lower back, warm hands splaying across the expanse of your shirt. her warmth radiates through the material and you hum contently.

she kisses your forehead, setting the controller down and resting her chin on your shoulder, "want me to take a break?"

you chuckle, curling into her warmth some more, "it's okay. i just wanted to see how you'd react."

she rolls her eyes, chuckling by herself before picking up her controller again, "you're lucky i love you."

[tonowarislut]

abby being fucking mean w it (toxic!bff!abby) who is also a dealer+ slapping, spit, dumbification, degradation, dacryphilia, squirting. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: abby’s used to the usual “you up?” text from you because even though she prayed about it every night, it usually meant nothing more than getting high and watching some film or tv show you’ve seen a million times before. but tonight, when she walks into your apartment something feels different.

“hi abs,” you coo from the couch where you’re wearing nothing but her hoodie and skimpy little shorts she can hardly see and all the blood drains from her head. abby gulps and tries to compose herself, says nothing when your nipples are hard and poking through the sweatshirt.

she can only hand you her dab pen and sit beside you. her thighs threatening to twist and rub together to soothe the growing ache between her them. she tries to ignore the fact that you smell freshly showered. your scent lathering her in rose and cocoa butter and she wants to smell your skin, lick up your neck and feel you up under her hoodie, see how soft you really are.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, your eyes glossy when you look over to your best friend. she hasn’t said a word for an entire episode. she’s been stroking up and down your legs absentmindedly, biting her lip. “nothing I just -“ she sighs, “why are you dressed like that?”

“like what?” you ask, although you’re not confused. you know it’s wrong to tease her like this, but you weren’t leading her on —

“why are you dressed like a fucking slut?” abby groans, finally turning to look at you, her glare making you shrink into yourself, your shorts dampening. the way she’s looking at you, like she’d tear you apart, her nose scrunched and her mouth curled in a snarl; it makes your face hot, your breathing picks up. “I - I don’t know, I wanted to be comfortable-“

“don’t fucking lie to me right now,” abby interrupts, parting your legs and kneeling between them, “I wanted your attention,” you whine finally acquiescing to her glare and placing your hands gingerly over hers on your thighs. “I want you abby,” you say breathless before she’s even done anything.

“want me how?” abby prompts and you guide her hand up your inner thigh to rest on your pussy, she sighs at the feeling of you over your tiny sleep shorts she can feel the soft hair on your mound some of her fingers graze your lips,

“not wearing any fucking panties?” she pants, leaning over you, nosing your neck and placing kisses there “you’re a greedy fucking bitch you know that?” you whimper softly and abby chuckles, “want me as your best friend — want me to listen about all those shitty dates I tell you not to go on,” she lets her fingers circle your clit softly, places a kiss on the side of your mouth,

“don’t want me going out on runs just to spend the day with you, even though you know it’s my fucking job,” she huffs, letting herself feel your wetness and groaning against your lips. you can’t help but cup her neck and bring her down to kiss you, taste that sweet tongue she shoves into your mouth and moan as you suck on it.

“I told you,” abby whispers against your lips “that I’m all you need but you’re too fucking stupid to see that,”

you whimper, trying to reach up for her lips but she pulls back to look at you, dazed and dewy — your pretty mouth in a pout. “m’sorry abs, i’ll —“ you don’t know what to say, abby’s never been so forthright with her command over you. “please I need you,”

“I know you do, silly, but how bad?” she asks, lazily working your wet clit, pulling your shorts to the side to dip her fingers lower to your wet, clenching cunt. “tell me how much you need me,” she brushes her nose against yours softly, dipping her fingers in as your mouth parts to speak.

“need you abby, I’ve always —fuck — always needed you,” your voice cracking as abby sinks her fingers home and curls them. abby huffs a moan as she scissors her fingers inside you, stretching you out and feeling your gummy walls wet and tighten around her.

“I know baby, and now you have me, gonna give this stupid little pussy what she needs,” she grunts, bucking her hips with her fingers, fucking in and out of you. “shit, gotta punish you for denying me of this,” she cups your cheek softly before slapping you lightly, loving the gasp you make, the shock in your eyes that melts quickly into lust when she does it again.

“s’okay though, gonna give it to you every fucking day,” abby says rubbing your clit with her thumb and adding another finger, “make sure I fuck you dumber than you already are,”

“abby, fuck too much,” you whine, squirming and still bucking your hips up into her hand for more -

“oh shut up,” she groans at the feeling you you trying to meet her thrusts “look at you, don’t even know what you fucking want,” she chuckles, “shut the fuck up, so I can give you what you need,” abby puckers your cheeks, spitting into your open mouth and sinking three of her fingers into it so you’re almost gagging on her. “perfect,” abby sighs, the feeling of filling you full making her hips twitch against you, her fingers inside you faltering if only for a second, “look so pretty all off of me,” she moans, the back of her palm rubbing against her clit so nicely she has to moan with you as she bucks and snaps her hips against you.

“should have just given it to you long ago,” abby whispers into your ear, “always knew you just wanted to be my cum-drunk slut,” she sinks the fingers in your mouth deeper just to hear you gag around them and whimpers when she curls her fingers inside your pussy, rubbing your gspot and not letting up, her thumb rubbing on your clit.

“you’re so fucking stupid though,” she cooes, “aren’t you? couldn’t even tell me what you wanted,” you shake your head rapidly and abby slows down.

“no? you’re not stupid?” abby removes her fingers from your mouth and puckers your cheeks, slapping it before presses a kiss to your mouth for every hard thrust she gives you, fucking the words out of you, “use your words then, tell me how good it feels — prove your not just a dumb fucking slut,”

but you can’t, fuck, not with the way her fingers are spearing into you, the way she’s curling them and rubbing your gspot so deliciously, you try to speak and all that falls from your mouth is “abs-baby please ungh fuck fuck oh god!”

the blonde uses her free hand, cascades it down your chest to press on your lower belly “see? you’re just a brainless doll, meant for me to fuck.” you’re seeing hot white like the pleasure curling outward from your belly, “come on be dumb, and feel so good and cum for me yeah?” abby sighs as you mewl, your thighs tightening around her, your nails clawing at her arms and leaving red lines behind. “aw that’s right baby, mark me up, let em know I’m yours,” she’s so fucking happy she finally has you. “m’gon- please wanna cum!” abby nods her bottom lip between her teeth and your whole body tightens, your toes curling and your back arching as you cum, gasping — tears falling from your eyes.

“shit shit, need ta fill you with my cock — fuck my sweet stupid girl”

you half think she’s joking, you think she’ll come back with a cloth and kisses and instead she’s handling you onto your belly, pulling your hips up and sliding her strap into you. and overstimulated as you are, you can’t help but back up into her,

“god, yeah, fuck yourself on my dick baby — shit you look so good doing your job, finally getting something right,” abby spreads your ass to see her strap going in and out of you, “fucking hell - that’s all you’re good for huh? drooling over me,” and this time you don’t disagree, too focused on the way she grinds her hips and humps you, her little sighs and moans and the shock when she smacks your ass.

abby steadies her hands on your hips and grunts as she holds you still, fucking into you. she’s bucking her hips so hard, filling you to the brim, her strap stretching you out until you’re whining and grabbing at pillows, trying to squirm out of her grip.

“nuh-uh, take it,” abby groans, pressing down between your shoulders to immobilise you, and grinning when you start to wail, tears springing from your eyes as you moan “yeah take my dick,” abby says, folding your arms behind your back and gripping them for leverage.

“you need this honey, need me to make you whole, get you dumb for the right reasons,” abby groans at the feeling of the strap rubbing against her overstimulated clit, she couldn’t help herself from cumming to the sound of your moans, the excitement of finally getting to fuck you overwhelmed her.

“tell me baby, tell me you need me,” she snarls, bucking her hips, she’s moaning like she can feel you, the way your clenching down on her, sucking her in.

“need you abby , need you need you so fuck! m’so stupid for you — ah!” you’re yelling when abby reaches down to rub your clit, “good girl, been such a good girl f’me,” she groans, grinding and shallowly thrusting into your gspot. “come on good girl, one more for me,” she moans and is in absolute awe when she feels you squirting into her hand and all over your couch.

Tags 🏷️ @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz

[tonowarislut]

i wanna fuckin BITE abby (im normal i promise)

she didn’t know exactly how it had started, but at this point abby was entirely used to it, endeared almost. she didn’t even flinch when you sunk your teeth into her bicep, not even having to look to know it was you, just letting you gnaw at the muscle until you had exhausted that inexplicable urge to periodically bite her. she found it cute, that you were occasionally just to inclined attempt to consume her in the most literal means of the word, though she couldn’t find a suitable explanation as to why. and as she felt your tongue on her skin, running along the teeth marks you had pressed into her arm, she couldn’t help but smile.

[tonowarislut]

The Disaster Zone

HELP PALESTINE • daily click • donation links • ways to help • why you should not buy/support TLOU2 remaster

Roomate!Abby Anderson x reader

Synopsis: Living with the hottest girl wasn't that bad, right? Except that she was completely straight and has a boyfriend you hate.

wordcount: 7, 758

note: this fiction contains (internal) homophobia and comphet as Abby explores her sexuality. if you were uncomfortable with these kinds of stories, then maybe this isn't for you. please refrain from commenting on any hate comments. thank you and happy reading!

Sweat prickled from your forehead, trickling down your face, and across your neck and you almost yelled in frustration at the feeling of getting overstimulated over everything. You sighed irritatingly, trudging your way outside of the apartment you just viewed. 

One week before the class starts and you still haven’t got a place to live and stressful is such an understatement to say. No, it’s much more than that. You never thought that finding a decent place to stay for two semesters wasn’t hard but no — it was like searching for a needle in a haystack, and the needle was just a reasonably priced apartment with no angry roommates. 

You grumbled, laying your head on the couch of your bedroom. You pulled out your phone, scrolling through the listings of the apartments available, feeling the stress building with each rejected option. 

But to your luck, you stumbled upon someone’s ad. It was a nice, cozy place that was perfect in size for two people. Her name was Abby Anderson, her last name was quite familiar but you couldn’t pinpoint where you heard it. Her place looked promising enough, and the reason she was finding a roommate was that she couldn’t pay all the house bills by herself. Under that, there was a deadline — which was supposed to be today, so you mindlessly hit the ‘call’ button with no second thought.

“Hello?” Abby’s voice came through the other line, her voice was deep and businesslike.

“Hey, uh, I saw your ad for the apartment,” You replied while nibbling through your fingertips.

“Oh, great. Are you interested in visiting it?” She asked, her tone was still cool and detached.

“Yes, please, I need it so bad.” You bit your lips while nervousness came through.

“Alright. Let’s set up a time, then. Are you free this afternoon?”

“Yes.”

“Great. I’ll send you the address.” She said before hanging up quickly.

You stared at your phone for a minute, finding the interaction a bit… awkward. A sense of relief washed over you as the thought of finally finding a place to stay for the whole academic year was done, but something about Abby made you feel anxious. Her coldness scared you for a second — even if you just talked to her for a couple of minutes. 

But no, you promised yourself that this was the last time you’d reject a place because of a bad roommate. So you don’t have a choice but to go. 

Arriving at the address, you knocked at the door thrice. Seconds later, you saw the Abby Anderson. You gulped, taking in her features. She was tall, stoic, and… unimpressed. She was wearing a simple black shirt that perfectly hugged her toned body, making you gawk mentally. Her eyes bore into yours, looking at you from head to toe. Something inside Abby’s mind twitched as she did not expect how good you looked. But she immediately strayed away from that thought, minding no attention to it. 

“Thanks for coming. I apologize for my appearance — I just got off the gym.” She says in a neutral voice, opening the door wide open. “Come on in.” 

“It’s fine.” You said before stepping inside. 

The apartment was bigger than you expected — much bigger than the photos she uploaded. The furniture was complete and the choice of its design was very intricate and extravagant — you wondered if she bought it all with her money. Maybe she spent her money buying decorations which is why she couldn’t pay the house bills.

The huge windows perfectly let the sunlight in, casting a warm glow through the whole place. You admired how neat it was, and how everything was in place. Not even a small piece of trash in sight. As Abby showed you around, pointing out every amenities and quirks of this place, you couldn’t help but admire her silently. 

“So what do you think?” She looked back at you suddenly, making you snap out of a trance.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, I like it.” You shot her a smile. “This was much better than all of the places I’ve checked.”

Abby nodded, taking your answer without further comment or questions. You looked away, feeling nervous at the closeness between you two. With the whole three hours of you and her in just an enclosed space, Abby did not look at you. Something about your presence makes her uncomfortable and she did not know what that is. 

But then she looked at you for the second time, taking a couple of minutes to stare at your features without you knowing. Abby did not know why it was so hard for her to accept that you were pretty. No, you were something more than that. And she did not know what that was, or what was doing to her that was making her heart churn.

“Damn it,” Abby looked away and cursed under her breath.

You snapped your neck to stare at her. “What was that?” You asked.

“Nothing. It seems like you are interested. Are you open to discussing the other details?” She said, gesturing at the couch.

And just like that, the deal was done. 

And oh, that was one month ago. 

You and Abby are still living with each other. But all of your admiration for her was over.

She has a whole-ass boyfriend. 

And she’s straight as hell.

Now, you hate each other to the core. 

Turns out, Abby Anderson wasn’t renting because she was poor. Technically, at that time, she was. However, you found out that her family was crazy rich and could probably buy your entire bloodline. 

The reason that she was finding a roommate to share the apartment with was that her father limited her expenses in the meantime as Abby spent a huge sum of money in the casino while on a summer break, causing her dad to deduct some money from her allowance. 

Abby Anderson was the typically rich person you’d meet. She has a puppy she recently adopted one sunny day and she named Oreo — a St. Bernard. Ever since, there has been a new joy in the apartment, breaking the awkward tension between you and Abby that was lingering in the air. You learned how to love Oreo despite his unwavering energy.

Being an only child, Abby doesn’t have anyone to share things that her parents buy her, and developing a trait of being territorial over those she owns. However, seeing you play with her puppy, and how your face lit up every time Oreo cuddled with her, Abby could not put an end to your joy for whatever reason she couldn’t figure out. She just liked to think that she was just being a kind person and to not be an asshole for no apparent reason, and nothing else.

On the other side, you were grateful that Abby was letting you play with her dog. Because, truth be told, you were still getting tensed whenever she was around. And Oreo definitely warms up the place much more. 

You didn’t know that being roommates with Abby Anderson could make everything so complicated. She was the top student in class, always ranking high in their department, and was considered one of the top notchers in the university already. Her dad was a famous surgeon in the city and was respected by many, and Abby definitely wanted to prove that she could be like her father — or better. She only has two friends — Nora and Mel, whom you only saw in the hallways of your university alongside her. Abby was a mysterious person, and even though you were now living for a month with her, you did not know much about her. 

She wasn’t a talkative person, and you two never interacted with each other so much. You could definitely count the times she has spoken to you with your one finger. Her after school would be changing into gym clothes, making and eating a snack in the kitchen, and then leaving. She would go back at 7:00 PM and would go straight inside the bathroom and into her bed. 

But let’s talk about the real issue here.

Her boyfriend.

Owen was a gym rat guy who sported short brown hair, brown eyes, and a small mustache around his chin. Abby introduced you to him when she first invited him over, and you found out that he was much older than Abby. At first, you weren’t bothered by her presence since he seemed okay and not much of a harm. However, as Abby was inviting him over and over again, something inside you grew uncomfortable.

Maybe it was because whenever he was around, you’d often see him giving you dirty looks that sent shivers up your spine, or that he liked to fully make out with Abby in different spots in the apartment outside of Abby’s room, or that every time Owen and Abby were cuddling or doing sweet things with each other, you’d caught her staring at you from time to time. 

“Really?!” Dina exclaimed through the phone as you were narrating the last line to her. 

“I really do want to know why.” You grabbed a bag of chips before walking away from the kitchen.

“Maybe she likes you?” 

You stopped walking when you saw Abby and Owen cuddling in the living room, her head was placed on Owen’s shoulder as they both watched a silly movie. You sighed, “No, I think it’s actually the opposite of it.”

It was an exceptionally good day at Pinecrest University, one of the most prestigious schools in the U.S. which everyone dreamt of attending. From the picturesque sceneries of the landscapes where it was built, and to the educational qualities it provides, it was, in fact, no doubt one of the greatest universities in the world. 

Abby did not know whether or not she would be happy that she was given an opportunity to take after her father's steps — follow his path and become like what he is — a great surgeon. In the first year, she was giddy to study, with full of hope and dreams. Everyone recognizes her for being Jerry Anderson’s only daughter, praising her for being intelligent like he was. Abby was every professor’s favorite student as she possesses exceptional skills in everything. While it was good at first, Abby did not like the pressure weighing up on her shoulders as time passed by. Being someone who everyone expects to be good at everything all the time, makes her become careful of her actions as she becomes afraid of making mistakes. 

“What?” Leah snapped her neck in Abby’s direction.

“Nothing. Thought I heard something.” Abby shook her head.

“You know what I heard earlier?” Nora looked at Abby, eyes gleaming with mischief with a small smirk plastered on her face.

“What?” The blonde furrowed her brows before sitting on an empty spot at the library.

“Y/n Y/l/n. Your roommate.”

Leah’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped, “You’re roommates with her?” She exclaimed in a hushed tone.

The lines on Abby’s face deepened as she looked at her friends, not knowing what the fuss was about. “What about her?”

Nora was about to say something when, as if on cue, you started to walk behind her, trudging away from their table but not without a quick glance at Abby, who, to your surprise, was already staring at you with curiosity. 

You were not one to back down, so you held her gaze up until you sat beside Ellie who was finishing her homework that was due this afternoon. 

“Who was that?” Dina asked, looking back. 

“My roommate.” 

“Oh! The one who–” Dina started gesturing and muttering words that you could only understand. 

“What the fuck,” Ellie cursed loudly as she stared at you two with pure astonishment.

“She’s friends with Williams,” Abby uttered with a surprise.

“Yeah, everyone’s been suspecting that they’re more than that,” Nora said.

“Than what? They’re super best friends or something?” Abby folded her arms on her chest before taking a quick glance in your direction. She found you laughing along with your friends, but something inside her was stirring as she saw Ellie’s hands crawling at your torso, dangerously close to where your hips at.

Nora and Leah chuckled loudly. 

“What the fuck? Super best friends?” Leah looked at her with pure amusement. “Oh I forgot, you don’t get it–” She turned to Nora. “She doesn’t get it.” She says, pointing her thumb at the blonde.

“Okay, in straight girl terms, Ellie and Y/n might be a couple,” Nora explained.

“But Ellie’s a girl,” Abby says, confused. 

Nora and Leah exchanged glances. “You won’t ever get it, can you?” 

“What?” Abby’s eyes widened. “Wait– Is Y/n… gay?”

“You say that word as if it’s the most disgusting thing you’ve ever muttered.” Nora glared at her. “Yes, she’s gay, Abs. Apparently, she’s a great kisser, too.”

“I can’t believe she’s gay.” Abby sighed, something inside her was growing uncomfortable.

“Abby, that’s a mean thing to say.” Nora frowned. “What if she was? There’s nothing wrong with that.” 

“I know! But I mean, I don’t know, it’s confusing.” 

“It isn’t. Y/n likes a girl and that shouldn’t change the way you view her. It’s just a sexuality, she’s not gonna bite you.”

Abby stared in your direction, contemplating and thinking about everything. months of studying different kinds of textbooks every week couldn’t prepare her for the said subject. Sexuality was something that she was not well-informed about as the topic stirred something inside of her. Being raised in a conservative and religious family who has a well-known image to take care of made her realize that her world was much different than yours. 

After a long day of work in the laboratory, doing research on different chemicals, monitoring their progress, and waiting for the results, Abby felt like she was going to collapse right when she stepped foot onto the hotel’s lobby where your shared apartment was located. 

She sighed, forcing a fake smile to greet the receptionist. 

“Hey, Liam, did you see Owen come in?” She asked, leaning at the desk. 

“No, I don’t think so, Abby.” He says, offering an apologetic smile before attending to another elderly woman who is asking for something. 

Being with Owen at such a young age means that Abby had experienced everything that is there to experience whenever you are in a relationship with a shitty person. Sure, she wouldn’t admit that Owen was a bad boyfriend to her, but she knew that he wasn’t a good person either. 

Abby sighed before dragging her feet through the floors, growing very tired at each step. Now, if this was the first time that Owen had gone through the entire day without checking up on her, being with clubs with different girls dangling on both her arms, Abby would’ve been crying all her way to her room – just like what she did before. But being the person who became accustomed to this setup with her boyfriend, Abby could only grow numb, only feeling a faint sharp pain dragging through her heart, reminding her that she chose to be with him so she had to deal with it. 

Besides, no one ever wants Owen for her. 

Not her friends,

Not her dad,

And she won’t be surprised if you’ll tell her that you hate him, too.

“Where are you?” Abby hissed through the phone, feeling the rage consuming her as she listened to Owen stumble and slur through his words, finding great difficulty to even remember who was calling him. 

“Abby baby! I’m uh- sorry, I was at a—” Owen’s voice was getting drowned by the loud music, along with different voices from his friends and a couple of giggles from different girls in the background.

“Bullshit.” Abby cursed him before ending the call. She wanted to just quickly disappear right there and then, feeling like an absolute shit so many times.

“Hey,” You greeted, placing a gentle hand around her shoulder. 

Abby jolted, almost feeling like your touch was too hot for her skin. “Yeah? You scared me.”

“Oh! Sorry! Didn’t mean to do that,” You apologized profusely, “I thought you were sick.” You gestured to your face, and Abby mindlessly touched her forehead, feeling the cold sweat on the palms of her hand. 

She cursed under her breath. Now that you’ve pointed it out, Abby felt her vision swirling as her breathing got labored. Even if she couldn’t look at her face, she could assume that she was pale already. But instead of saying that she was indeed not okay, she dismissed your question by saying, “I’m perfectly fine.”

Abby tried to walk, but then she almost tripped with her fifth step. Before she could kiss the tiled floor, you caught her body, wrapping a delicate arm around her hip to help her stabilize her stance. 

“Quit being stubborn, okay?” You said, stopping her from even uttering a single protest when she opened her lips. You looked at her sternly, making her go silent. 

As much as Abby hated to be close to you at the moment, she couldn’t move. Not when her mind had shut down the moment your warm fingertips touched her waist, not when your face inched closer to hers, and not when your smell lingered around the air and started to consume Abby whole.

You did not know which force on the entire earth had given you the energy to drag Abby all the way to your shared apartment. To be fair, Abby’s body was toned and muscular, given the time that she was working at the gym, and not only you could feel her weight leaning upon your much smaller figure, but you were also touching her well-earned biceps and abs. 

“Okay, lean in there for a second and I’ll just open the door.” You commanded, carefully releasing your grip from Abby’s body as she leaned towards the cold wall while waiting for you to get your keys from the bag. Abby watched you silently with wandering eyes, feeling a sense of disappointment gushing through when you stopped touching her. 

“Shit.” Abby cursed loudly while screwing her eyes shut. 

“What?” You asked before lightly pushing the door, revealing a very excited Oreo who had been barking since he saw you. 

“N-nothing.” Abby stammered when you enveloped her in your hands once again. Her heart thrummed inside her chest, reaching the vibrations to her ears and all she could think about at that moment was your name.

Y/n.

“Abby?” You asked, placing her on the sofa carefully. Y/n. 

“Y/n.” 

“Is there something I could help you with?” You waved your hand in front of her eyes, making Abby snap out of the trance. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus her gaze on your eyes and your eyes only. But Abby found it so hard especially when your face were so much closer to her that she could feel your breath fanning over her lightly.

“What?” Abby asked. 

“You were calling my name.”

Shit.

“Am I?” 

“Look, just… lay there and make yourself comfortable, okay? I’m just going to cook for you.”

“Ah, there’s no need. I can order–” Abby opened her phone, face getting sour at seeing her wallpaper — Owen.

“This won’t take long. And I really am good at cooking so trust me.” You flashed her a sweet smile before rushing to the kitchen.

“For sure…” Abby whispers, watching how your skirt dances perfectly as you walk, hugging your curves. When she realized that she was staring at your ass, Abby shut her eyes tightly, pinching her nose bridge while telling herself to get a fucking grip. 

True to your words, you were a great cook. 

Abby found herself in a blanket-clad position as she sipped at the bowl slowly, not wanting to make it seem that she was so eager to taste the soup. Which, in her opinion, was probably the best one she had ever taken. She was almost thankful that you insisted on cooking for her, instead of buying a delivery from a fast food chain — something that she has always done whenever she was sick.

“Are you feeling better?” You asked, sitting at the loveseat in front of her while brushing Oreo’s fur with your fingers. The dog wags his tail joyfully, making Abby smile. 

“Yes. Thank you.” She sighed. “I think I’m just over-fatigue.” 

“You should probably rest. Ditch the school works, it’s Friday.” 

“I know, I will.” Abby nods.

“Good.” You stood up. “I’ll clean up for a bit. Call my name if you need something.”

“Sure.” Abby put on a tight-lipped smile. You nod before making your way to your bedroom. “I enjoyed it.”

“What?” You turned around, looking at her. 

“The soup. It was the best.” Abby bit the inside of her cheek, feeling her face heating up. 

You smiled widely, heart swelling with pride and joy as you heard her compliment, “Thanks.” You said before entering your own bed, gently closing the door before you almost squeak in pure bliss. 

But that was short-lived as you realized that she’s Abby Anderson. 

And she’s way out of your league.

After lounging in her bedroom for a day while ignoring everyone’s texts and calls, Abby had never felt much alive.

Maybe it was due to the fact that she got enough sleep and rest, not seeing Owen, or maybe because of you. As much as Abby still never felt comfortable enough with your presence near her, she was thankful for being roommates with you. 

It is true that you two weren’t friends, to begin with. Abby could count on her fingers how many times she talked to you ever since you moved into the apartment. There’s not to say that she wasn’t fond of you, truth be told is — you make her think of so many things that she couldn’t name, or make her feel something she never knew what that is. 

However, as much as Abby wanted to go back to ignoring you while she was finally okay, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for helping her when she was sick. So, she decided to ask you out — and it’s just a friendly date just to repay your kindness.

Rays of sunlight pierced through the large windows of your apartment, perfectly illuminating your figure as you stood in front of the full-length mirror and examined your face. As Abby was descending down the stairs, she couldn’t help but stare at your back, trailing her gaze from the ribbons on your hair to the soft plush of your thighs. She immediately looked away, feeling a small sweat prickling down her forehead which she quickly wiped, not wanting to appear nervous or such.

Abby cleared her throat, making you look at her. 

“You’re going somewhere?” She asked silently, busying herself with removing dog furs from her shirt. 

“Yeah, uh, just going to visit this newly opened cafe. My friend says it’s good.”

Abby nodded, looking away. She tried to guess who that friend was. Was it the curly-haired girl you were talking to in the library? Or the tattooed one named Ellie? 

“Are you going with someone?”

“Just me.” You smiled. “Wanna come?”

“Yeah, I would love to.” 

Abby has never gone on a date with someone else other than Owen, Leah, Nora, and her father. So being alone with you ignited something within her.

You were sitting across from her, giving her a perfect view of your face. She probably looked at you many times that she couldn’t keep track of her fingers and it scared if you’d think that she was creepy as hell. It’s just that she couldn’t look away, or divert her attention to some other things when a gorgeous girl was in front of her. 

You were chatty, telling her some stories from your first year in the University that Abby found so adorable that she couldn’t stop herself from eliciting a small smile on her lips. You liked to joke around, giving some playful banters that Abby found witty. She never thought that talking to you was the best thing she’d ever experienced. She admired how you were so smiley, radiating light and hopeful vibes, infecting her in the meantime, breaking her out of the cold and dark shell she was caged in. 

It was fun. 

So, so fun.

And she doesn’t know why your company scares her.

“Come on, babe, I’ll do everything you want,” Ellie whined through the phone and your eyes almost rolled off at the back of your head at her dramatic ass. 

“Figure it out on your own, Ellie.” 

“I’m gonna fail!” She says, shuffling across her room.

“You should’ve thought about that before skipping your classes.”

“Come on,” Ellie answers.

“Why are you so annoying?”

“You love me.” You can imagine Ellie’s smirk. “I’m bringing snacks.” 

“You should be.” You rolled your eyes once again before hanging up the phone. 

It was 8:00 in the evening, and you were already in your pajama-clad state as you made your way to the dining room with your laptop clutched around your chest. The whole apartment was dimly lit, with only the warm lampshades as the source of light. Oreo was already sleeping on his bed, filling the silence in the air and comforting you. 

Abby was nowhere to be found ever since you got in here after school. You waited for her to appear, eating whatever she made in the kitchen which was usually at 7:00 PM, or to make her way to the bathroom, putting on an obnoxiously loud song that you could practically hear from across the room. But she wasn’t here. 

You two aren’t exactly friends. For sure, you two got closer when she was sick, but after the date you two had, Abby was back again into ignoring your presence. You did not know what to feel because you thought you were on to a good start now. Truth be told, you wanted to get to know her even more but it seems like she doesn’t really want to. 

She was a mysterious woman. You always hear things about her at school. They all say that she was a smart person, always on top of the class. Everyone adored Abby, and you couldn’t blame them for that. You liked her, too, even though she was like that. 

Three consecutive knocks on the door put you out of a trance, lightly making you flinch. You screwed your eyes shut before standing up. Of course, it’s Ellie.

She smiled widely, flashing you a toothy grin before lifting the paper bags in both of her hands. You opened the door, letting her in at the apartment.

“Jesus, where’s all the lights? I can’t see shit.” Ellie whispered. 

“Don’t be too loud,” You nudged her. “You’ll wake up the dog.” You flicked the switch, opening the big lights just like Ellie liked, revealing the well-decorated apartment. Ellie seemed to be in awe, scanning the whole house. To be fair, it really was pleasing in the eye so you can’t blame her. If there’s one thing you and Abby could agree on, it is the interior design of the place. It was a Mediterranean revival style, taking upon the beautiful Spanish architecture that you both loved. It was a very lovely house, something you didn’t expect to live in. 

“Dude your apartment was great!” Ellie complimented, sitting down beside you. She opened her laptop before gathering pieces of paper in her bag. 

“Yeah, well, thanks to my roommate.” You shrugged, grabbing a piece of fries that Ellie brought. 

You two got working afterward, not wasting any time. You did not want to stay up too late, and on the contrary, Ellie did not want to sleep. She says she has to go to the club at 10:00 PM, hence, she was listening to your instructions carefully, nodding at every word you say, and working seriously. To be honest, Ellie was a smart person. She was just distracted by too many things — girls, clubs, and her guitar which made her have a hard time managing her time. Which was why she was always late in class, sometimes even skipping them unintentionally. It was the reason why her guardian, Joel, kept scolding her. 

“You were smart, you know. You just don’t know how to properly execute it.” You said to her as you were cleaning up the mess at the kitchen table.

Ellie smirked while putting her bag on. “I’ll see myself out.” She says, ignoring your compliment. 

You nodded, opening the door quietly. “Take care, El.” 

“Thank you so much for helping me.” She says, grinning at you while pinching your cheek. You winced at her touch, immediately swatting her hand. Before you could slap her shoulder, Ellie was running through the elevator while giggling. “Bye!” You hear her say. 

You laughed, shaking your head at how childish she was. As you were about to lock the doors, Abby’s tall figure appeared in front of you, making you flinch in shock. 

“What the hell?” You cursed, placing your hand on your loud beating heart. “Where did you come from?” 

Abby’s brows furrowed deeply as she scanned your face, and back to the elevator. “Who was that?” She asked, walking past you. You can sense her irritation as she sits on the couch, removing her pair of loafers. 

“It’s… Ellie—”

“Your girlfriend?” Abby looked at you with a stoic face. 

“What? No—”

“Well then, why she was here? What could you two be possibly doing late at night?” 

“Woah, woah,” You raised your hands in surrender before walking in front of Abby. “Where was this coming from? Me and Ellie were just friends, and we’re not doing anything you’re thinking.” 

“And how could I believe that?” Abby stood up, towering over you. 

“And if we really were doing whatever you think we were, then it’s none of your fucking business, Abby.” 

“It is my business because you are living with me. It is one thing to share a house with a woman who– who likes girls—”

“You can say lesbian. It wouldn’t burn your tongue.” You stopped her, feeling an internal rage boiling into your skin. You were clenching your jaw hard, stopping the urge to punch this woman in front of you. 

“Then keep that to yourself. I am not uncomfortable with you doing that.” 

Your brows furrowed. “Doing what? Being myself?” 

The living room suddenly feels deafening as the silence consumes you two. Abby looked away, arms crossed as her eyes were fixed on the floor. You sighed, shoulders going slump before looking outside the window. Tears started brimming at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill at any second.

“Abby you know I didn’t choose this. It’s who I am,” You say, voice trembling slightly as you gulp, silently wishing that the lump in your throat goes away. “Just like what you are. You did not choose to be straight, and I never got mad at you for that, didn’t I? No matter how uncomfortable it is to find you and your weird boyfriend doing unspeakable things every single week.” You looked and glared at her.

“What? Why are you turning this on me?” Abby’s voice boomed, face going red as anger silently consumed her. 

“If you say something about my sexuality, it’s fine? But when I say it back to yours then you’re getting mad? For a very intelligent person, you’re such a fucking closed-minded, Anderson!” You yelled, storming through your room and slamming the door with a loud thud, making the dog wake up in its sleeping state. 

Abby stood there for a long moment, staring at your closed door, the weight of her words settling in. She immediately wanted to knock on your door and take it all back. But she knew she couldn’t. The silence that followed her was deafening, a painful reminder of the distance that stretched before you two. 

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual lunchtime chatter, but at your table, the mood was tense. Dina almost spat the food she was eating as she looked at you with pure shock in her eyes as you recounted your fight with Abby last night.

“She seriously said that?” She exclaimed, fuming, as she stabbed her food with a fork. “I cannot believe she reacted like that.”

You shrugged, feeling dejected as you played with your food with a spoon, not feeling an ounce of hunger. “I know, I thought she’d understand – I mean, she should be, right? She’s smart.” 

“Not smart enough for that kind of talk.” Dina sighed. “Seriously, I cannot believe it. It’s unfair to you, and you shouldn’t deserve to live with that kind of person. Who knows what she might do to you.” 

“You’re right. I’m going to start to hunt for another place after the midterms. I just can’t fit in my schedule right now as loads of paperwork start coming and coming in.” You shut your eyes tightly while combing your hair in frustration. “I just thought we were starting to be friends, you know?”

Dina smiled at you sadly before rubbing your back. At that moment, Ellie walked in with a huge grin on her face. She spotted you and Dina at the table and she immediately started walking towards it, but not before playfully bumping and greeting all of the people she knew. She slid beside you before sitting on the empty chair next to you. 

“Thanks for helping me with my homework. I got an A.” She threw playful punches in the air. 

Dina slapped her. “Shut it.” She says before taking a glance at you. 

You smiled at Ellie, the one where it doesn’t meet your eyes. “No worries.”

Ellie frowned, her smile immediately faded as she took in your expression. “What’s wrong? You seem upset.” You sighed, feeling the weight of yesterday’s event pressing down on you again. “It’s Abby. We had a huge fight. She started accusing us of doing things at the apartment and she doesn’t seem to like that I was gay.”

Ellie’s eyes widened in anger. “That’s fucking bullshit! Out of all people, I thought she’d understand that.”

“What do you mean?” Dina asked.

“I mean, is she not gay?” 

“Uhm… no. She has a boyfriend.” 

“Well, this is now confusing.” Ellie looked at you with disbelief while leaning back in the chair. “I thought she was one of us!”

“Everyone else does. I mean, I do, too, when I first saw her.” You said, shrugging. 

“That’s fucking ironic, then.” Ellie sighed. “But she fucking needs to grow up and get over herself.”

“Exactly. Our apartment is always open whenever you need it, okay?” Dina squeezed your hand. 

You nodded, feeling a warmth gushing through your veins. You are thankful for your friends as they can ease your problems effectively. Abby’s words pierced right through your heart, but being with Ellie and Dina made it easier to bear. 

Abby sat at one of the reserved seats for her at the rooftop of a fancy restaurant that her dad picked for them to have a meal after having time for a small break in his work. Wanting to reconcile and check in with his only daughter, he arranged this small meeting with her. 

The place was elegant, with warm lighting from the big chandeliers illuminating the whole area. At the distance was a small band playing jazz music, and the gentle clicks of the silverware created a sophisticated aura. Abby sat across from her father, trying to focus on her meal. Jerry kept stealing glances at her daughter as he cut into his steak, trying to decipher what was wrong. 

“Was the food not good?” He asked suddenly after a moment of silence consuming the two. 

Abby’s gaze immediately flicked to meet his eyes. Her brows raised in confusion, trying to recall what her father said. “What? Uh… no.” Abby shook her head before sipping into her drink. 

Jerry shrugged. “Just that you seemed tensed.”

“I’m not,” Abby responds. “The place is great.”

He hummed, nodding at what her daughter said. “So, how’s life in the apartment?” He asked, his tone casual but probing. 

“It’s fine. You know, the usual. I was able to pay for all of my bills, since, well, I got a roommate.” 

“And how was she?” He raised a brow. “What was her name, again?”

Abby said your name as she was pushing off her unfinished meal. She sighed, dabbing her lips with the handkerchief. “It’s fine… just a bit tense between us.”

Jerry looked at her with narrow eyes. “It’s fine but tense? What does that mean?”

Abby hesitated, not wanting to answer the question fully. She never knew what her dad would say if he found out that her roommate was gay. Besides, they never talked about that kind of stuff. All that she knew right now, was that she doesn’t want to tell anyone about your personal information.

“Personal stuff came up. I-it’s complicated and I don’t want to talk about it now.”

He sets his fork down, leaning back in his chair. “Personal stuff? Abby, if there’s a problem, you should fix it right away. You can’t just ignore it.”

“I know, Dad.” She answered; frustrations creeping up her voice as what happened that night started replaying in her mind. “It’s not that simple. But I don’t want her out of the apartment or anything… we’ll figure this out on our own.”

He studied her for a minute before nodding slowly, not wanting to press more on that matter. “Alright, but don’t let it become worse. Things like these can get ugly the more you avoid it.”

Abby exhaled a relieved sigh. “I know. I’ll handle it.”

There was a brief, uncomfortable silence before her father cleared his throat and changed the subject. “And what about Owen? How’s he doing?”

Abby’s face softened at the mention of his boyfriend — wait, she wasn’t even sure if she could still call him that, knowing what happened. She ignored his calls for days, not wanting to be in his presence to get a lot of time thinking about things. Abby thought it’d be best if she could calm down first, set aside her emotions, and be rational for once. She sighed heavily, keeping in her mind to talk to him once her father dropped her off after dinner. 

“He's good. Busy with work, as usual, which was why we don’t see each other as often.” She lied, not wanting her father to pry on their relationship. You knew he was skeptical of him since the very beginning. He liked to say that Owen was up to no good and that he was just an older man who didn’t think about his future. As much as Abby tried to argue with him at first, Jerry already formed opinions about him — one that Abby couldn’t alter. But deep inside, she knew he was right. She just doesn’t want to admit it yet.

“I really hope he’s taking good care of you.” He says, eyeing her once again with glaring eyes. “If I ever got the news that he was being a bad influence on you, I’m going to cut all of your cards.” Jerry threatened her. 

Oh, right, Owen was the one who insisted on gambling that night, making Abby almost lose all of her savings in her bank account. He also taught her to drink, smoke, and go into different kinds of clubs. You bet how mad Jerry was when he found out everything about it. 

Abby only offered a tight-lipped smile, trying to change the subject to lighter topics. Throughout the whole dinner, Abby’s mind was always shifting into your unresolved fight as guilt starts to consume her whole. She knew her father’s advice was great, but she couldn’t bear to do it. Besides, it was easier said than done. For now, she decided to enjoy the meal in front of her, pushing away her worries at the back of her mind. 

That night, Jerry decided to drop his daughter off before going into his office. She sat in the backseat of his car, staring out the window as the city lights they passed were blurred by with the speed of the vehicle. Abby tried to maintain her composure, as she tried calling Owen’s phone for the nth time but he wasn’t answering. Each unanswered notification on the screen made her anxiety slowly skyrocket. 

When they finally reached their destination, the car came to a stop. Abby immediately opened the car door. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait for you?” Her father asked as he pulled up in front of Owen’s apartment.

Abby shook her head, “It’s fine, Dad.” 

“Alright. Give me a call if you need anything.” 

“I will,” She assured. “Take care.” 

With that, Jerry nodded before uttering a small ‘good night’ to his daughter. Abby followed the car's gaze before deciding to head to Owen’s apartment with a heavy sigh.

Abby hated this feeling. 

For someone who has been cheated on by the same guy, she did not know why she couldn’t turn numb. She hated the confrontation between her and Owen because she knew that it didn’t always end well. However, she did not know why she couldn’t just walk away from this relationship forever. It was like there’s some force between her that keeps on tangling herself with Owen — no matter how shitty he was. Abby hated how her father’s words, along with her friend’s advice kept on replaying in her mind right now. It made her feel like she was the dumbest person in the whole world. 

“For a very intelligent person, you’re such a fucking closed-minded, Anderson!”

Your words rang in her ears repeatedly. 

“Fuck it.” Abby cursed, trying to shake those thoughts before knocking on Owen’s door. She stood there for a couple of minutes before speaking once again. “I’m coming inside.” She notified him before fishing out his apartment’s key in her bag. 

As Abby came inside, she noticed how the room was romantically lit up — where different pieces of scented candles and dimly lit lanterns were on, casting off a warm glow throughout the room. An unfamiliar woman’s perfume filled her nose, breaking her heart little by little as she strode through his room. 

Abby pushed Owen’s bedroom door, revealing him with another woman in his bed.

“Owen?” She asked, voice tensed. 

He scrambled to sit up, a mix of shock and fear written through his face. “Abby… I — I can explain.” He immediately grabbed his boxers, putting it in just a couple of seconds. 

“Leave,” Abby commanded the girl who quickly complied. She grabbed her clothes before running past Abby, a pure horrified look was written on her face as she left the bedroom.

“I was checking in if you were still alive. And right now, I wish you were dead.” Abby’s jaw clenched. 

“You don’t mean that,” Owen huffed, trying to grab Abby’s hand but she quickly moved away from his touch. He shrank, feeling dejected. 

“How many times do you have to do this, Owen?” Abby snapped, tears brimming on the corners of her eyes. “What was something I don’t have for you to crave on another woman’s body?” 

“It’s a mistake. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Abby sniffed, nodding at his words sarcastically. “Yeah, we’re done. It’s all done forever.” Abby started walking, but Owen was tailing her from behind.

“What? What do you mean?” He asked, completely alarmed.

“I can’t keep wasting my time with you. I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

“You can’t possibly mean that.” His voice boomed, making the blonde face him with bloodshot eyes. 

“I fucking do! I am so tired of putting up with your shit. Don’t ever come near me, alright? I am so disgusted at you.” She says before storming outside. 

Owen tried calling her name, and a feeling of sudden fear washed inside of him. Of all the times you two broke up about this, he hadn’t seen Abby so mad that she fully said that they were finally done because he knew that she couldn’t bear to part ways with him for good. This was the reason why he was so confident to do those. But right now, she sounded determined, and Owen knew that it wasn’t good. 

Abby’s thoughts were spiraling by the time she got back to the apartment. A mix of emotions started forming in her mind, making her heart clench as she stumbled inside. Tears started streaming down her face, making her barely notice that you were fully wide awake while staring at her in the kitchen with a curious stare. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, breaking the silence. 

Abby’s gaze flicked to your face, down to the food that you were cooking. Pasta. It was midnight and you were cooking pasta. 

“W-what?” She asked, trying to focus, but her stomach started grumbling as the aroma of the food filled her nose. “I’m fine.” 

You nodded, biting your tongue to ask further questions at her. 

 “What’s that?” Abby asked, making her way to the kitchen.

Your brows rose as you took a good look at her face. She looked like… a mess. And that’s not like her. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

Abby sighed heavily before shaking her head. “We broke up.” 

“Oh…” 

A short silence filled the air as Abby watched you put two plates on the island, filling it with the pasta you’d made. You pushed one in front of her, and Abby looked at you with wide eyes. “For me?”

“I know we’re not on good terms right now. But I don’t want you to sleep like that. Why don’t we eat past and watch movies in the living room? I can sit across from you in case you are uncomfortable and we don’t have to talk with each other.”

“I won’t be uncomfortable…” Abby said in a small voice while looking at the food. 

Your brows rose at her comment. You hummed, not buying her words. “Okay.” 

“I’m sorry for what I’ve said before. It’s not right.” 

You scanned her face, “I don’t know about that.”

“I want to make it up to you.” 

“How?” 

taglist: @gaptoothedlesbo @st4r-b3rries @ofalcaodacolinablue @sleepydrr @yurixxiii @seraphicsentences @bambishaven @k1ngpin42 @buglikean-angel @eringranola @sennagf

[tonowarislut]

I hope your daddy doesn’t own a gun

Southern dbf!abby

Cw: smut, MDNI, dom!abby, subfem!reader, age gap (r! Is 20, abby is in her 30s), masturbation, phone sex if you squint and turn your head, lil sprinkle of degradation, fingering, voyerism, no y/n, no pdor

A/N: I hate this<3

They all saw you as a child, still just daddy’s little girl in your pigtails and bloomers. Even at twenty, after ditching the pigtails and swapping the bloomers with mini skirts that let your ass peak out, didn’t deter their perception of innocence.

Your father was a wealthy man, charismatic and giving that drew the people around him in. Most of his friends watched you grow from childhood, through the ugly duckling phase, all the boyfriends, and growth of your now womanly figure. Not that they noticed. Not that you cared- other than her, Abigail, your father’s best friend from college. Abigail went on to work at your father’s company after college and frequented your life from birth.

You couldn’t recall when it shifted, when she went from your father’s best friend to a toy dangled in front of your face, so close yet unattainable. Clean cut, dressed in button ups, khakis, the cowboy boots that peaked through the bottom of them. Her hair neatly tied in a braid.

The only time you’d seen it down was when your dad held a backyard rager you snuck out to watch. Most of the party had dissipated late into the night, but you had spotted Abby and one of the receptionists in your pool. You watched as the pretty receptionist lazily dragged the strands out with her fingers as Abigail worked her mouth around her chest.

Thats when the heat in your chest began for her, watching her control. Seeing how she could have anything she wanted. You wanted her to desire you, need you so badly shed take you there, even with the risk of wondering eyes.

-

This night ended as they all did. At the end of the night you’d get sent to your room so they could smoke cigars and speak of vulgarities that you now were more than aware of. For fucks sake you were in college now, getting tossed around by pitiful girls that still couldn’t make you come. Abby would, you knew it.

You’d touch yourself at night to the thought of her for the past couple of years, she’d know how to take care of your needy cunt. You’d think of yourself in the pool that night, how your fingers would dance through her hair. The scent of musky pine still overwhelming your senses even though her skin was bleached of pool water. How her fingers would feel deep inside you, her hand covering your mouth to quiet you.

Your father would kill her.

“Alright hun, why don’t you head to bed,” your father says after a fit of laughter. Everyone continues the comfort, your eyes dart to Abby, who seems to be the only one privy to your father’s prompt.

“Dad don’t you think i’m too old for that now,” you try not to get defensive but it comes out bitchy. He gives you that stern glare, the ‘don’t make me ask you again’ look and you glance back at Abigail who gives you a pitied pout, “be a good girl, listen to your father.”

You huff out, making a scene and storming off. Slamming your bedroom door behind you, infuriated. Pissed at your father for treating you like a child still, pissed at Abigail for backing him up. Pissed that she looked so good tonight, the way she put her hand on your lower back to pass you, whispering a ‘xcuse’ me darlin’. Maybe it was her goal to work you up just to leave you helpless and begging.

Your window has a shot of the backyard, all your father’s friends laughing over cigars and bourbon. Pissed how she called you a good girl, right in front of your father, everyone, knowing the effect it would have on you.

She wanted to tease you, work you up in front of everyone? Then they should all watch what she did, a careless act on both ends.

Throwing yourself on your warm sheets, pulling up your sundress to reveal your bare cunt. Driving your head back into the sheets as your fingers work at the pulsing flesh, so tense from the slow incline Abby had you on all day. Your fingers slid so easily through your folds, pearly white slick coating your harsh fingers.

Your breath panting and eager, so ready to revel in your own pleasure after being ripped from it. You’re already close, feeling your stomach tighten in anticipation as you feel your phone buzz at your side. ‘Abigail Anderson’ illuminates your face, without giving yourself a chance to catch your breath you answer.

“Don’t you dare think of coming,” Abby says sternly. Your face flushes, fuck. You peer your weary eyes at the window next to your body, Abby stands a couple feet away from the men, staring dead at you through the glass.

“Wha-“ you pant out, staring dumbly at the woman that never gave you this extent of her control. Your head drops back down onto your pillow, too embarrassed to admit your shameful actions.

“I didnt tell you to stop, did I sweetheart?” Abby says with smugness in her tone.

“N- no ma’am,” giving into her so easily, running your hand down your body to meet back at your sopping cunt that buzzes at her words. “Good girl… you like that, don’t you?” She says doubling down- so fucking sure of her power over you, your mind, your cunt.

“Yes Abby- yes! please Im so close,” you bite down on your lip for relief, your hole clenches over nothing, fingers eagerly tracing circles around your swollen bud. Any moment you’d break, heels digging into your frilly sheets as your chest soaks with sweat. You hear the line go flat on your phone.

You were too fucked to stop, you were going to let yourself have this. Gripping into the sheets you prepare yourself, legs shaking as your door swings open to Abigail. Your legs wide open for her eyes to feast on, she takes a moment to gawk at the sight before locking the door behind her.

She walks over to the head of your bed, unbuttoning her shirt as she watches you drive lazy motions over your clit. She discards her shirt to the side, revealing her bare chest. Climbing so slowly up to you she places her hand on your sloppy cunt, cupping it as her other hand covers your mouth, “Don’t make a sound and I’ll let you come.”

Wild eyed you nod your head, letting her run her thick fingers down the slit of your cunt to collect your release. The smell of pine thick in the air, the sound of her fingers dragging in and out of you the only peep to be heard.

“you think about this all the time don’t you darlin? Turned into a nasty little girl, didn’t ya.” Abby begins to pick up her pace, fingers sliding in so easily. Your eyes roll back, mind going numb.

“Tight little cunt you got, swallowing my fucking fingers,” you try not to scream out, but her unrelenting pace at your hole was getting to be too much. The feeling of spilling over hitting you once again. Your screams are muffled by her meaty hands, but she can feel your pulse around her.

“You gonna come baby?” Abby coos, looking at you pitied and cruel. You shake what motion you still had left in your head.

“Be quiet so your daddy doesn’t hear what a whore his little girl is,” she laughs at how pathetic you are, all from just her fingers.

like that you’re set off, squirming under her heat as she fucks your pussy through it, watching you opened mouth panting as your head pushes into your plush pillows. Biting into the flesh of her palm cant block off the guttural scream you let out. She pushes down harder at your mouth but only pushes her fingers deeper. Every last drop she was going to get out of you.

Thats when you hear the ring of a jiggle on your locked doorknob.

[tonowarislut]

“do you mind if i put on some white noise?”