Abby Tlou2 - Blog Posts

Casual conversation about my wife 🤭😍

Literally me

guys im so weak and fragile (abby is looking) 🤭

WHY CANT I HAVE HER 😫😭

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

Fucking during a “no talking” fight with Abby

It was no secret that you loved Abby. You had been friends since you were children and she had always been the most loyal, caring, funny woman you could ever ask for. It was the other parts of her personality that sometimes got you mad enough to get into situations like this in the first place. Her impulsiveness, her lack of…agility, perhaps, and then still refusing to take the necessary precautions on patrol. 

She frustrated you.  At the very least. There were some nights were she’d caress you and care for you, after the essential multiple rounds of “stress relief” of course, and tell you, “don’t worry, I won’t be on patrol tomorrow, I can spend more time with you” only to switch places with people to get more assignments and it fucking killed you. She loved it, the life we have now where it’s normal to kill fucking monsters, even fully non-mushroom kind. You felt comfortable with it too, you supposed, and you loved all your friends and the freedom of the WLF base, but sometimes you felt like an intruder in your own relationship, like all the times where you would hang out and relax was taking away from gym time and fucking up scars. 

You knew it was wrong to feel like that, she loves you, anyone with eyes can see that, but when she went out on a high risk assignment after already being gone a week beforehand and not even asking you first, that was your final straw, and instead of lashing out at her, you gave her the mercy of skipping straight to the post fight silence. A strict “no talking rule.”

Unfortunately for the both of you, the silence lingered on a little too long for comfort, and while you knew deep down you could wait, life, especially with the kind of lifestyle you lived, was too short not to spend with your own girlfriend, and your body certainly agreed.

Abby returned from the assignment and immediately sprawled herself across a lounge chair. She knocked off her shoes and grabbed a book she had read 5 times already. One of her favourite uses of down time, other than being with you. You spotted her there, rolling her stiff shoulders. Her muscles where slightly more defined from the tank top and the very light trickles of remaining sweat on Abbys body, though by some miracle she still smelled amazing, and that made the situation all the more difficult.

“That book again.” You speak with caution, the first word you had said to her in 3 days. She opens her mouth to speak but you shake your head. 

“Don’t talk.” She nods, watching you with those deep blue puppy dog eyes. 

Disregarding everything, you walk over to her, positioning a leg on either side of one of her thighs. Her already dilated eyes widen and she wants to talk but you stop her again. 

“I said no talking.” You remind her, hips grinding ever so slowly forward on her thigh. 

“Mmm…fuck.” You gasp, a small smile on your lips. She puts her hands on your hips and you’re not surprised by just how quickly Abby got on board. You quicken your movements, moaning more at the feeling of your bare legs on Abbys jeans, the feeling of your cunt, separated only by the fabric of your panties. Abby enjoyed the dress you had put on. There had been a few times you had worn this short black dress for “comfort” around the base, but you and her both knew it was for Abby’s benefit. 

You continued moving, rocking your head back from the pleasure. She starts rocking her leg and god the sounds you made left Abby soaked. You revel in the sensation a little longer before you’re seeing stars and can’t avoid it anymore, grabing Abbys face and moaning into her mouth deeply between kisses, tasting her tongue, feeling her large hands on your cheek. When you finally cum you’re gasping for air, as if someone has stolen all the oxygen you previously owned before this moment. You pull away, getting off of her promptly. 

“Well, um…thank you.” You blurt out. Abby’s smile is wider than the fucking universe. You laugh softly. 

“You…can talk…but I’m still not fully over our fight.” You say, still catching your breath. 

“I’m so sorry about everything.” Says Abby through a desperate plea. “God that was so hot I….I wanna get off so bad…”

“Oh yea?” You ask, walking back over to her and kissing her deeply again.

“As I walk away, remember this feeling. This is how I feel when you don’t allow me to come on your last minute assignments.”

“What- you wouldn’t-“

“After this we’re square.”

“Love…love please-“

“God I love hearing you beg. Thank you again for the orgasm.” You tease with a provoking smile. “Later.”

The door closes.

It's purring

Oiled up Abby omfg. I took this photo myself and I'm fucking fiending. She could choke me, hit me, call me a good girl, her fucking slut, do anything and everything she wanted. When I tell you I opened one of my old saves and my legs opened with it. Abigial Anderson, the woman you are.

A Dragonriders handmaiden 

(A Rhaenrya x Mysaria story)

@cattjull @mitski-lovesems

Warnings: C#nnilingus, N!pple play, restraints, candle/wax play, sc!ssoring, choking, fingering, Edging (M to R)

A/N: One thing I always laugh about is Mysarias reaction to Rhaenyra claiming vermithor. Whether that was just the actress completely in awe of Emma (which would be completely understandable) or it was intentional I’m not sure, but regardless I can imagine Mysaria and Rhaenyra genuinely being into dragon role-play. 

“Oh you want me to claim you, hm?”

“Yes Rhaenyra claim me.”

“Lykiri.”

“Fuck…” 

PFFT. Anyway enjoy the story.

The politics of the realm have always been a complex affair. While it is true that wars have been settled for less, it was simply disheartening for both nobles and common folk alike. Watching a family, those who are considered by many to be gods, fight over power and title. 

Not only did brother fighting brother leave a distaste in the mouths of those who were forced to account for it, but it causes chaos, anguish, death, and it has been causing devastation since the crowning of Aegon. 

Rhaenyra Targaryen was but one piece on a board far bigger than her, perhaps larger than her entire bloodline. Born an innocent, with her fathers smile and logic, as well as his desire to solve issues with peace, rather than with the fire that danced in her veins. 

Mysaria, “white worm,” had always been a character in Rhaenyras youth. She had heard of her skill in various fields. A consort, a mistress of whisperers. She had also heard at length from various sources the extent of her beauty. It certainly enthused her uncle. 

It was strange that 15 years later she would be practically kneeling at Rhaenyras mercy. This wasn’t to say she begged, however. No. Mysaria always believed her life to be valuable, even when men, no matter how old, stupid or ugly, would tell her otherwise. 

 A knock, one night, at Rhaenyras chambers. The hour is quite late and there is but a single guard posted at her door. 

“The white worm, your grace.” The guard informs her, and Rhaenyra gets out of bed with such exertion she is worried she has strained something. A hand goes over her silver hair, putting any loose strands into the correct place in her extravagantly braided hair. She isn’t sure why she is fixing her appearance, or even now why she is so conscious of it. 

“Your grace…”

“What? Oh yes, bring her in.” Rhaenyra says, her fingers still caressing her hair. Perhaps as a nerves thing. 

“I apologise for the disturbance, your grace. I understand the hour is late, I would not have come if I thought it could wait.” Mysaria explains. She nods simply, her eyes tracing every inch of the white worm, as if looking for something. A reason for Rhaenrya not to trust her, perhaps, as there had already been so many people she couldn’t trust in her life.

“It is alright, Lady Mysaria. What is your news?”

Mysaria nods, her expression serious as she begins. “It has come to my ears that Prince Daemon has been sending his men on missions of great brutality. The tales of their actions grow more gruesome with each retelling, and his men...” She pauses, frowning slightly before continuing. “His men are starting to question their loyalty to a liege who makes them commit such horrors. It would not be surprising if some of them deserted.” Rhaenyra groans, her patience growing weary. 

“So in fact he does not which to usurp me at all? No. My husband would rather create more enemies in my name and cower back to me like a babe cowers from their punishment. What else have you heard?”

Mysaria hesitates, her gaze flickering to the others gentle blue. “There are whispers, your grace, that the Lannister army may be preparing for battle.” Mysaria announces, the warmth of the candlelight feeling all the more hot. 

"You think their movements are advancing already? A result of criston coles stupidity, no doubt, and now at the hands of prince Aemond."

“I wanted to tell you as soon as I heard. Daemon often acts quickly and without a second thought. Telling you now may give you time to consider a strategy to pursue before he conducts a new idea that will no doubt rally more enemies against us.” 

A peculiar smile pulls at the queens lips at this. The smile was gentle, genuine. It offered a sense of childlike peace that brought Mysaria back to when they were younger. Simpler, potentially, though not necessarily better. 

“Us?” Rhaenyra asks through a soft chuckle. “You got comfortable fast.”

“True that it wasn’t long since I was thrust into the darkness. An echo of a great spy. But when new pathways alight, I am not one to wait for the opportunity to run away with the candle.” She bobs her head in agreement subconsciously appreciating her mannerisms.

“You could have gone anywhere.” Rhaenyra reminds her, stepping closer and touching her hand. She wasn’t even sure she had made a decision to touch her. All she knew was she had stepped out and suddenly her hand was caressing Mysaria’s. Her skin was so soft and the contact was electrifying. Logically, of course, Rhaenyras own hand was warm from being under the covers of her bed, but to Mysaria it only confirmed Rhaenyras birth right, a true born dragon. 

“You know, I could have had your head for that?” Rhaenyra says with a grin. Mysaria’s eyes widened with confusion before she elaborates. 

“For waking me up to hear MORE disappointing stories about Daemon. He is all I hear about these days, from everyone who wants to undermine me. I hear his name more than I speak it myself as he is never. fucking. here.” Mysaria smiles weakly. 

“Daemon is a…troubled mind. A character to be certain but, well.”

“His issue is he goes around taking what he wants while genuinely believing there will be no consequences. People like that shouldn’t have a dragon.” The caressing spreads to up Mysarias arm, making her gasp in enthusiastic surprise. 

“He was everything I wanted when I was a child. Everything I wanted to be. Perhaps both.” Rhaenyra explained, and Mysaria watches intently, like there is no sound she would rather hear, even late at night on the edge of war. 

“I was everything he wanted too. The rightful heir, young enough to…mould into whatever he wanted.”

“I do not like that he took advantage of you, but, I certainly see why he was so captivated.” The soft movement across Mysarias skin stops and she takes a cautious step back. It’s so small it’s barely noticeable.

“What?”

“I remember your father. Kind, peaceful, humorous, I see him when I look at you. But without that, you are strong, intelligent, beautiful. You are a great mother and a great queen. One who appreciates the subtleties of war. A level headed ruler the realm deserve-“

Mysarias gasp of surprise is silenced by Rhaenyras tongue as it enters her mouth. She presses her warm hands on both of Mysarias cheeks, moaning and deepening the kiss, feeling a passion unmatched to anything she had ever felt before. Those words were like honey. They affirmed her in ways she wasn’t sure she had ever felt. Always so worried about her claim, her children’s claim, the whole being-a-woman thing. Never did she have someone loyal and beautiful who would actually speak to her without hidden agendas or to disagree. No, these words were gratifying and intrigued every part of Rhaenyra.

Mysarias pretty light grey gown was the first to drop to the ground, revealing beautiful skin and curves that had been so criminally concealed. Rhaenyra smiles as her eyes familiarise herself with her body. Her perfect breasts are a refreshing sight for someone who practically had only seen the pair she, herself, possessed. The cool air hardened her exposed nipples, and at this point her head is spinning. Even so, Rhaenyra managed to pull her attention to the rest of Mysaria. Her perfect cunt Rhaenyra started to imagine she was tasting was becoming more inviting by the second. Her stomach too was an image of perfection, much like something she would see sculpted in the galleries back at kings landing. 

“I’ve never…” Rhaenyra began, surprised by the sound of her voice in the deathly quiet room. It was rare for her to depict such vulnerability in these scenes. With most men she had been with, she was the one in charge. Always towering over them, taking what she wanted, using them to feel good, to feel as powerful as she was deep down. Even during her first time she was the one who instigated, never like this. Mysaria gives her a reassuring smile.

“If it is any constellation, your grace, I have never had royal pussy, either.” Rhaenyra laughs at her rather vulgar statement, feeling less tense than before. 

“I want to taste you…” Rhaenyra says, clearing her throat and installing a shroud of false confidence to her words. “May I?” Mysaria nods, sitting at the edge of Rhaenyras bed and spreading her legs. Rhaenyra follows suit, kneeling in front of her. When Mysaria is in view fully now, she notices a scar through her folds which causes her to look up for reassurance. 

“Will it hurt?” She questions. Mysaria shakes her head. 

“My father gave that to me when I was very young.”

“Oh.” She mutters, caressing Mysarias thigh. “That’s awful. I’d understand if you don’t want me to-“

“No. I want you to. Giving me pleasure in the same place he cut seems a rather satisfactory form of revenge would you agree?” Rhaenyra smiles at this.

“I would.” She hums into her inner thighs, kissing and sucking at the skin there. 

An excited gasp leaves her mouth and Rhaenyra notices the way Mysarias excitement drips.

“Need to…” Rhaenyra lets out, tone desperate. Mysaria nods. “Go for I- mmm.” Rhaenyra licks quickly over her clit and the higher sections of her cunt. The pace is eager and unrelenting, causing Mysaria more pleasure than she had anticipated from someone new to all this. Mysaria wraps her hands over her head, fingers weaving into the silver braid she so adored. Now Rhaenyra goes lower, in between her folds and all the way down to her pretty hole, tongue exploring the entrance and pulling a cacophony of noises from Mysaria all at once. 

She tugs on the braid a little and uses strands that had fallen down onto her face to guide her to where she wanted, bringing her closer by the second. 

“fuckfuck…so…ahh-“ Rhaenyra goes even faster, if possible, moving her head now in rhythm. 

Mysaria tugs her hair tight as she cums. Her orgasm rippling through her in waves. Rhaenyra licks every delicious drop, moaning in satisfaction at her new found favourite hobby. She almost felt angry at herself for not experimenting with girls in her youth. Especially when she could have been doing this the whole time. 

She stands up, smiling nervously at Mysaria. 

“Was…that…um…” Her chin is glistening, like that wasn’t answer enough, but Mysaria new words of affirmation was needed right now. Maybe always.

“You did amazing, my queen.” She speaks breathily. Rhaenyra grabs her hips, pulling her in. Then she starts licking and sucking over her chest, making Mysaria gasp again. When she pulls away, Mysaria sucks on Rhaenyras neck, hard, untying the string of her nightdress as she did so.

“This alright?” Mysaria asks. Rhaenyra nods, letting out a hushed “yes.”

Rhaenyra is a sight just as breathtaking. Her smooth, beautiful Targaryen features making Mysaria flush. Perhaps she had chose the wrong Targaryen all those years back. Not that it was much of a choice. 

“You must have a lot to teach me…” Rhaenyra says, feeling exposed in the cool air. Mysaria chuckles softly. 

“Go to the bed and lie down. We will test the waters. See what you like.” Rhaenyra nods. Her imagination could think up many things to be certain, but at the same time she had no idea what she was in for. 

Mysaria gets on top of her, legs on either side of Rhaenyras waist. Her body travels from her collarbone to lower stomach, then to her sensitive cunt. Mysaria raises an eyebrow. 

“You’re so smooth down there.” She remarks. Rhaenyra laughs. 

“The hair that grows there is very fine but I still like to remove it when I have the chance. You like?” Mysaria puts her middle digit onto Rhaenyras tight bundle of nerves, drawing a satisfied “mmm” from her lips. 

“I like.” Mysaria agrees. Her two middle fingers continue, going a little slow just to offer the chance to revel in every sensation. Then, Mysaria curls her fingers inside her loosening walls, hitting every inch so good her eyes were rolling back. 

“Y…you’re good at that.” Rhaenyra breathes out. Mysaria gives a grateful smile. 

“I have been wondering something my queen.” Mysaria says, going a little faster. Rhaenyras eyes flutter.

“P..please… if we are acquainted enough for you to…put your fingers in me…you can at least use my name. Mmm…”

“I have been wondering, Rhaenyra, if it’s true about Targaryen’s being immune to fire.” Rhaenyra lets out a half laugh, half moan.

“That is meant to be legend. Though I hear some Targaryen’s truly can withstand… ohgods..ahem…um…fire.”

“And you?” She asks, removing her fingers and grabbing the flickering candle by her bedside table. 

“Can you be burnt?”

Rhaenyra nods slowly, her eyes dancing with the flame. 

“Some women like mixing a little pain and pleasure.” Mysaria explains, moving the candle in circular motions in the air. “Do you?” Rhaenyras gaze is deadly and intoxicating as she ponders her words.

“Perhaps…we can see.” She says, and Mysarias eyes sparkle in response, well, that and the candlelight reflecting so brilliantly in Mysarias deep coloured eyes.

“We should have a word to say if you want me to stop.”

“A word? What’s wrong with…’stop’” Rhaenyra questions genuinely. This brings another smile to Mysaria. 

“Often when pleasure or pain is overwhelming us in the best way possible, we say stop stop. Even if theres nothing we would want less than to stop. A word like…tart, is an effortless distinction to put a foot on the wheel.” Rhaenyra nods. 

“Tart…I like it.” Mysaria switches the candle to her left hand, putting her fingers back into Rhaenyra with her right. Cautiously, Mysaria pours the wax onto her body, making Rhaenyra shudder in pain. The combined sensation of her nearing orgasm caused her to cry out.

“Do…you need to say tart, Nyra?”

“N..no…Fuck it feels…I’ve never felt…” Mysaria nods in silent understanding, continuing to pump in and out of her. 

The wax solidifies on her skin and Mysaria puts the candle down, rubbing her fingers over it, already sensitive from the burning. 

“So…so good.” Rhaenyra hums, eyes shutting tight.

“I know…let it out I know you can.” Rhaenyra obeys, orgasming intensely and grabbing onto her tightly. 

“What else?” Rhaenyra asks when she finally catches her breath. 

“Need more.”

Mysaria is both surprised and impressed. She starts pulling off the thin bedsheet that was previously perfectly sat on Rhaenyras bed. She gives her a confused look.

“What are you doing with that?” 

“This,” Mysaria starts to say as she pulls at the sheet. “Can be used for restraints. Put your arms up.”

Rhaenyra does so and Mysaria ties it. 

“Have you ever experienced such intense sensations you wanted to scream and writhe around in your pretty bed, but you couldn’t move your arms at all? Couldn’t…defend yourself, almost.” Rhaenrya shakes her head, the idea already exciting her in a way she doubted was healthy. 

“Remember the wor-“

“Tart. I know.” Rhaernya says impatiently. Mysaria grins at the queens eagerness and spreads her legs before climbing over them and positioning her own, wet cunt above Rhaenyras. Slowly, she rotates her hips, making Rhaenyra immediately moan in surprise. She watches Mysarias movements and wants so badly to level herself with each hand and move with her, but they remain very much bound.

“Ahhh…fuck…” Rhaeyra moans again as Mysaria goes even faster, grinding right over her clit over and over again. The sound of them sliding together, slick coating warm skin, it was a melody that would sell for millions. 

The familiar, scream worthy feeling in her stomach swirled and her head revelled as Rhaernyra grew closer to orgasm, eyes rolling back, curses and moans falling out of her lips constantly. That was when Mysaria got off her, standing up in front of where she lay on the bed. Rhaenyra groans in frustration.

“Why did you stop?” She asks bitterly. Mysaria says nothing, ensuring she makes direct eye contract as her fingers plunge into herself. Rhaenyra gasps at this.

“Wh- in front of me?”

“You must have been close, huh?” Mysaria taunts. Rhaenyras eyes darken.

“Mysaria. Get back here.”

“Beg.” Mysaria says. Her words are dangerous. Status wise Rhaenyra has almost infinitely more power than Mysaria, and with men that power always translated. Never would she beg for anything. Never…

“Please.” Mysaria smile is wider than the narrow sea before she returns to her position on Rhaenyra, rocking her hips back and forth.

“Ah~ seven hells that- fuck you, don’t stop..” A mischievous look paints Mysarias eye as she obeys Rhaenyra. She wasn’t going to stop. Not even if she was begging for it. When Rhaenyra cums harshly, her hands still restrained. She expects the unrelenting pace to let up, her cunt already so sensitive. 

Mysaria stands up, curling her fingers inside Rhaenyra again. 

“Gods- Mysaria what are y- ohfuckstopstop mmm”

“You know the word.” Mysaria reminds her. And she does. Tart. A word as bittersweet as the ones she used to pick the lemons off of as a child. It was a lot, in truth. She had cum all over her fingers, she had her pussy soaked against Mysarias and now her fingers were inside her again. She was covered in sweat, wax and slick, whether it was hers or Mysarias she didn’t know. It would be a perfect point to stop. To clean herself and lie in Mysarias arms. But as her fingers pumped in and out, making her scream in pleasure and pain, she simply couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

“I kn…know.” Mysaria hums in satisfaction, continuing her thrusting harder now. When Mysaria finally lets up after her third orgasm, she unties Rhaenyra and kisses her deeply, tongue caressing the inner walls of her cheek. Rhaenyras hair is a mess. The braid, whatever remained of it, was over half out, with strands sticking to her face in different places.

“That was…yes.” Rhaenyra says a little awkwardly. Mysaria nods.

“Does this mean I can say I have ridden a dragon?” Rhaenyra laughs at the statement. 

“Daemon is a targraryean too. Thought you were already a dragon rider.”

“That was a long time ago. I’d rather be with you any day than the father of a school of bastards who runs for the hills and makes bad choices.” Rhaenyra sighs at this. She is right, of course, but her words sting to hear.

“My sons…they” Rhaenyra started to say. Mysaria smiled brightly. 

“I know. They are perfect.” She says, exchanging a knowing look that lasts long enough for the silence to spread.

“At least you needn’t worry about mothering my children, Rhaenyra. We don’t exactly have the requirements for it.”

The unexpectedness of the sentence causes them both to laugh and Rhaenyra pulls her in to a hug.

“Thank you for your support.” Rhaenyra mumbles. Mysaria nods.

“Of course your grace.”

Sevika 18+ head canons and very spicy fic ;)

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (s receiving) , scissoring, use of strap on, (receiving) choking, hickeys, use of n!pple clamps, mention of sex workers

@cattjull

Head canons:

Incredibly good at sex- She regulars at one specific brothel at the other side of town to where she both lives and works. Never sleeps with anyone she doesn’t pay for and uses this as an excuse to use them in every way she can. She’s comforted by the fact there is no judgement in it. Like sex is her own seperate world made for her pleasure alone.

Spitting kink- It’s not so much for degradation than it is to watch you soaked by her in every way you can be. (Also a little bit for degradation.) 

Choking kink- (with her arm ofc) she loves the fact that something that can inflict so much harm can also be used for something as fragile as sex. (Always makes sure you’re okay with it though.)

There are some days where she will just get naked with a girl or two and just lie with them for a bit, sitting quietly in her own thoughts while admiring the view beside her. She’ll ask her about their day and be genuinely happy to hear about it. She’ll still pay them handsomely for their time of course, and she becomes such a favourite that she gets some nights for free and they always have Sevikas favourite room cleared out for her.

On top strap gameee

Loves a show. Makes you ride her thigh or any part of her body, loves your tits in her face, loves watching girls with each other, it’s her favourite type of foreplay before she absolutely rails the shit out of you

FIC: Sit on my lap

For someone from the overcity, you certainly didn’t feel any perks of “privilege” that undercity residents loved to rage on about you all having. It was just you and your brother. Your parents left to go do greater things for the overcity government leaders last year and took all of their fortune with them, leaving nothing but the house you both live in. Your brothers making coin doing some sort of security work with his jackass friends while he landed you a job pouring cups at a discreet establishment downtown. When he told you about it, you first had imagined a speakeasy or a casino, but when you arrived it was far from it. Women walking around in breezy, pale pink dresses, men and women dancing without their clothes on, and of course you could only imagine what was happening behind the closed doors, if the loud moans were any indication. 

You begged your brother not to make you work there. That you would do anything else, but he urged you to give it a shot, and the women there were all really kind, the men surprisingly respectful, and you didn’t have to perform any of the tasks the other women did. All you had to do was wear a dress, smile, and pour wine and water for the guests.

You had a shift tonight that you weren’t overly looking forward to. They always stay open longer on Thursday nights and you didn’t really want to be catering the drunken guests who stay till 4am.

When you got there, the girls were all giggling excitedly and the owner looked more on edge than usual. You greet her casually and she explains a VIP customer was coming in. 

“What do you want me to do?” You question. She sighs.

“Our favourite girls sick, our other cup bearers not working tonight and most of our rooms are booked. We’re completely unprepared for Sevika tonight.” She explains. You nod simply. You’re the only cup bearer…great.

“Just…go get changed and make your rounds, I’ll let you know when she arrives.” That was the last you heard for a while, your thoughts blurring together. You pour water for the two customers who have arrived within the hour. Thankfully neither of the men were handsy with you and you were left to fold and prepare the bed in Sevikas room. Your colleagues had told you stories in very intimate detail about her. Your friend often said it felt like she should be the one paying because Sevika was “just that good.” It made you think about it. Or perhaps dream about it would be a better word. You often grew curious at the sounds emerging from the rooms. You knew to some regard, the women who were employed here, their noises were fake. A hoax or exaggeration to impress the men and women who visit. Make them feel powerful or something. 

But part of you wanted to open the door, even just a crack. To look in and see the guests feel everything they want to feel. The idea was exciting, making someone feel good In this way. Part of you wishes you had the experience to do what some of your friends did, but other parts, the more sane perhaps, had a different moral view on it and didn’t want to be an object to men. 

You jump when the door opens and both Sevika and the owner walk in. You quickly recollect yourself, smiling at them both. You knew it was her straight away due to the sheer size of her body, or more specifically her arm and thighs. She was dressed nicely with a fitted button up shirt with a dark pink wrap on top. Her arm was a beautiful gold  replacement with pink liquid flowing through it. Her raven hair only added to the allurement of her being, with this arched eyebrows and an interesting scar across her otherwise perfect face. You attempt to make an introduction, but words fail you as you continue to eye up the woman. 

“Uh…forgive her, this is my new cup bearer. She has made all the arrangements to your room as you like them.” Sevika doesn’t reply, but she gives you a menacing smirk that seems to make the contents of your stomach flip.

“Thank you. Is Angie here?” She asks, still not fully acknowledging you. The owner blushes.

“Uh…unfortunately Angela is sick, but all my girls are eager to work with you. You may have your pick of them.”  She tilts her head, eying your body slowly. 

“No. That’s okay. Leave us.” She instructs. Her tone isn’t angry, nor is it anything else, it is simply an instruction that the owner knew better than to question.

“If you need anything, just ask her.” Sevika smiles, her eyes darkening slightly.

“Oh, I will.”

The door closes and the room suddenly feels all that much warmer. You clear your throat. 

“Wine…?” You ask, suddenly becoming very conscious over the way you asked that. 

“I mean….I meant…could I interest you in some wine?” Jesus why do you exist right now? She lets out a short laugh. It’s deep when she does this, and it makes you feel ways you shouldn’t. 

“Sure. Pour yourself one too.” Your eyes widen at her words.

“Oh…I don’t think I’m allowed to drink while I’m working.” You explain. She walks past you, taking a seat on the bed. You don’t turn to face her, only looking at the jug and the glass. 

“Oh no? But you seem so…tense.” She says, and you could certainly agree that relaxed was the furthest you felt right now. Plus, she was a VIP and the owner told you to do everything VIPS ask. You don’t reply to Sevika with words, instead picking up an extra glass from the table and pouring wine into it. She smirks.

“Good girl.” When you turn to face her she’s naked. Like. Literally naked, with her bare beautiful fucking tits exposed all the way down to…well you weren’t going to look at that. In fact, you tried not to look at all. You quickly whip your head back to the wall, spilling a drop of wine or twoo in the process.

“Fuck…sorry.” You say quickly. She laughs.

“You are aware of where it is you work?” Sevika teases. You can’t help but smile slightly, still blushing from nerves.

“Fuck…sorry.” You repeat. “I’m new.” You add dumbly. She smiles again.

“So I hear.” You carefully return your gaze to her face, trying your hardest to focus on her eyes. Meanwhile, hers linger ever so slowly down your body.

“Lose the dress.” Your mouth drops ajar, parted by the shock and letting out a gasp by accident. You clear your throat, returning your face to a composed and neutral expression. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t do that kind of work. I only pour wine…and water…and I guess fetch things but-“ Sevika watching patiently as you make a fool of yourself only makes things worse. You take a deep breath.

“I can go get you my friend.”

“No.” Your eyes finally meet hers again. You take a sip, or rather a gulp of the wine, shuffling a little where you stood. 

“Come. Sit on my lap.” At first you think you have misheard her. You must have…because there would no reasonable explanation for Sevika…the one from all your friends fucking stories…to have asked you to sit on her VERY bare lap without any expectation of sex.

“I’m not gonna sleep with you.” You let out all at once, your cheeks flushing. You’re terrified of how she’ll react. I guess you can kiss this job goodbye.

“Shame.” She replies, nonchalantly. “Anyway, I only offered because you’re shaking like a fucking leaf over there. Sit beside me then if my body bothers you.” She explains calmly. The mention of her body causes your impulses to look again. She truly does have the nicest pair of tits you’ve ever seen. Her stomach, her arms, you want all of it. You take a seat beside her, sitting so far on the edge of the bed you’re practically falling off. 

“How does a gorgeous little thing find her way to a brothel…untouched?” She questions, speaking ever so softly now. You smile slightly. 

“My brother said we needed money.” You admit. “And if it’s any consolation, I’m not ‘untouched.’ I’ve had a boyfriend before.” She laughs, noticeably impressed. 

“Boyfriend, huh? Lucky guy.” The air feels so thick in the room and her very naked body is driving you crazy. You take another gulp of the wine.  “What about girlfriend? Ever let a girl touch you?” She asks. You turn to face her now and she meets your shocked expression with a calm and slightly cocky smirk.

“Relax, you don’t need to answer that sweetie.” She says, the nickname clearly a mockery. You roll your eyes.

“No. No woman has ever touched me and before you ask why, it’s because I’ve never met a woman interested, okay?” She tilts her head, her smirk leaving her lips.

“Trust me, if a woman has any queer bone in her body, she’s been interested in you.” Her words make your ears and cheeks heat up, as well as a particular sensitive organ that’s fighting for its life right now.

“I….uh…” 

“Have your friends described it to you? What it’s like with a woman?” You almost choke on the wine. 

“Well….I presume the same as with men but different parts.” 

“Woah, you really are bright.” She teases, and you can’t help but laugh back.

“Whatever. Yes, they’ve told me stuff.” 

“Describe it to me.” The glass barely touches your lips when you bring it back down again. 

“Why?” The same smirk returns and needless to say, your body reacts to it.

“Ah, I didn’t realise you could ask me questions.” You hesitate. She was right. The rule with VIP customers, or customers in general provided they weren’t doing anything harmful, was to listen and do what the customer wants with no questions asked. 

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly. And you truly meant that. She was here for the first time in weeks and she got a barely sociable girl who won’t sleep with her. Sevika laughs. 

“I’m teasing. You need to learn to loosen up more.” You smile.

“Isn’t that what the wines for?”

“Another question.” She remarks. You move a little closer to her now. 

“Is that not allowed?” She looks away from you. 

“Answer me.” She repeats. You nod.

“My friend said you use a strap on her. She said you have…” You clear your throat in a pathetic attempt to conceal your own embarrassment. “Good rhythm. My other friend says you’re really good with your hands….even the mechanical one.”

“Especially the mechanical one.” Sevika corrects. “And I could make you feel good too you know? Pay you enough gold that people will be pouring your cups.” You would be lying if you said the idea hadn’t crossed your mind, but what good is a fucking virgin going to be with a VIP?

“I haven’t been with any women remember?” You decide to say. She laughs.

“You and your questions. Sit. On. My. Lap.” 

And just like that, you were on her, your legs on either side of her bare waist. 

“How’s that?” She asks. You smile softly at her.

“Good. I mean we haven’t done anything yet so…”

“Oh I know, and when you do you will feel that, and I’ll need to ask you again, but for the mean time answer me.”

“Yes. Yes it’s good.”

“Good. Take off your underwear.”

“Sevika….I’m not a….”

“Sex worker? Usually when someone says ‘I work in a brothel…’

“Okay fair point.” You say, letting out a half-laugh half-gasp. You remove your underwear, not really sure as to what the fuck you were doing right now. Before, you were disgusted at the thought of being in a brothel. Worried about creepy men or having to eventually fuck one. Granted though, Sevika was far from a man, and in this entire brothel she was the most desirable woman, and she wanted you, perhaps that needed no further explanation. 

“Good…now I’m just gonna move you up a little further is that alright?” She asks. You nod quickly. “Yes.” Is all you can manage to let out. She pulls you by the hips so that your cunts are practically together. Hers is already soaking, and it makes the space between your thighs follow suit. You bite your lip when your clit grazes over her. She smiles at your behaviour. 

“I’m just going to lift your leg like-“ She moves it effortlessly over her own, exposing yourself further. “this.” She adds. You let out a nervous chuckle. 

“Something funny?” She asks gently. You laugh again. 

“Yes. I said only moments ago I wasn’t going to sleep with you. It felt so definitive.”

“Yes well…I’m sure your friends would agree that I can be very…persuasive.” She starts slowly moving her hips and you let out a breathy moan. 

“This can be a little hard to do on your first time but I think you’ll be alright. Just move your hips in rhythm with mine left to right and I’m gonna buck up into you mkay?” You laugh again. 

“I don’t need to babied…” You say quietly. She grabs each side of your face, the cold metal of one of her arms bringing goosebumps to the rest of your body. Then, she kisses your deeply, tongue exploring your mouth like its the first meal she’s had in days. She lets you go and you take a deep breath to replace the one she had just knocked out of you.

“You’re gonna use that mouth for something better for that. Get on your knees.” Your eyes widen, red painting your face at her words.

“I only meant-“

“Get. On your knees.” You comply, cautiously removing yourself from her lap and kneeling in front of her on the bed. 

“Ever taste yourself, gorgeous?” She asked. You’re too focused on her body from this new angle to really process what she said. The lingering silence implies you have missed something though, and her expecting gaze affirmed it further. 

“Sorry, what?” Sevika scoffs. 

“I said, have you ever put your fingers inside yourself and fucking tasted it.” She repeats. You don’t know how to respond to it, so you just nod slowly. She smiles. “Good girl. Well it won’t be much different than that. I’m gonna pull your hair to where I need you. If you need a breath just tap my thigh twice.” You exchange a look.

“I said I don’t need to be ba-“ But before you can finish the sentence, she’s pulling you down into her cunt. You tongue between her folds eagerly, pleasantly surprised at the feeling. The taste is something else entirely, as she somehow has a taste you could only imagine belonging to her, and fuck this might be your new favourite thing ever. She tugs your hair just as she said she would, guiding you up to her puffy clit. You suck on it, moving your head around in a circular motion. In truth, you’re not sure what you’re doing, but as a woman, you can only assume the pleasure in her body is not so different from yours. This appears to me true as you reap deep groans from her mouth and satisfied sighs.

She bucks up into your mouth and it feels like you can’t breathe, but the taste of her and the noises you pull makes the air in your lungs seem a small and insignificant price to pay in exchange for her pleasure. You can tell she’s close from the way she drips into your mouth and down your chin. You moan into her pussy and it’s not long before her thighs are shaking and she’s throbbing in your mouth. She finally releases you from her strong grasp and you go back up to face her. With her metal arm, she wipes her slick off your chin with a smile. 

“Good girl. You’ll learn with me quite quickly, I should think, that only good girls get to be fucked within an inch of their fucking life. Get on my lap again, we’ll try this again.” You nod, and if you’re being honest with yourself, if that was the punishment for talking out of turn, you would gladly do it more.

“I thought you preferred using a strap…” You remarked quietly. Sevika shrugged.

“Wanna prepare you for that though. Give you some nice friction before I start fucking you with my strap.” Your mouth drops slightly. She was going to…do both? You blush.

“Oh…okay…” You reply, feeling a little pathetic. You resituate yourself on her lap, feeling the combination of your saliva and her cum as you move your leg up again. She grabs your hips, moving into you and sucking on your neck. You gasp.

“It’ll mark….” You say. She smirks that distinctive, cocky, sevika smirk again.

“It’s cute that you think I would care about that. Your neck won’t be the only part of you that will be ruined, so I recommend you get rid of the idea that I’m going to leave that gorgeous figure untouched. Take off your dress.”

You do it and she leans her head back in arousal at the site of your bare tits.

“You don’t wear a bra in a brothel?” She asks. You shrug, avoiding eye contact with a small, nervous smile. 

“Miss Selise doesn’t let us wear them.”

“Hm.” She replies. She puts her large hands on your tits, playing with your sensitive nipples and rolling them carefully between her fingertips. She pulls you by the hips even closer, putting one of your tits in her mouth. You let out a moan from how sensitive it is. She takes it out of your mouth, smiling. 

“Ah, you like that shit, gorgeous?” You look away, still intimidated by her fiery gaze.

“Yea.” You admit, simply. She puts the other one in her mouth and you have the same reaction. 

“I have something I do with some girls…” Sevika starts. “Have you ever used a nipple clamp?” Your mouth opens widely. 

“I- no.” You reply, weirdly defensive. She nods. “

“It’s not for everyone. It hurts a little but also feels really fucking good while you’re fucking. Do you want to try it with me?” She asks. You consider it for a moment.

“Look just cause you work here doesn’t mean you actually have to do everything I want. You can say no.”

“I- I do.” She tilts her head with a cunning smirk.

“You do…what?”

“I do want to try it.” You blurt out, and it is as if the words were operate from your own head. She nods. “Good,  there’s one in that pink box on the desk.” You carefully get off of her and return with the clamp, looking curiously over the metal. 

“I’m just gonna put it on carefully….” You wince slightly as she puts it on, but you agree that it feels kind of good with this attached to her, especially in front of Sevika, it makes you feel like her property and a weirdly gratifying way. 

She starts moving her hips again and it takes you a moment to keep up with her rhythm, but when you do the feeling is incredible. You let out a chorus of moans and your joint wetness adds to the feeling. 

“Gonna….mmm” You cry out.  She continues her rhythm, never straying from it once. You shut your eyes tightly when you cum, Sevikas own orgasm following swiftly. After a while, you reopen your eyes to see her watching you with a smug expression. 

“How was that?” She asks. You laugh in response, still feeling lightheaded from the fucking stars she made you see. 

“I think…the workers aren’t meant to be receiving more pleasure than the customer.” You say with a small smile. She kisses you swiftly. 

“You really think that little of yourself?” You shift a little in position, clearing your throat. 

“You mean you…felt good too?” You question softly. She laughs this time. Proper laughs. 

“Jesus, gorgeous. Men must have done a number on you.” Your facial expressions shift slightly. 

“What do you mean….?” 

“You have no idea how attractive you are. Or what you’re capable of.” You laugh sarcastically. 

“Which is sex?” 

“Yes, sex, but I’m sure you’re capable of a lot more as well, if you stop expecting yourself to immediately fail at them.” You just pause and consider her words for a moment. 

“Thank you.” You decide to say. Her eyes light up and she gives you a reassuring smile. She won’t admit it, but Sevika was growing a new personal favourite worker. 

“Here, Ill remove the clamps-“

“No.” You clear your throat. “I mean, you can leave it…you still have to use the strap don’t you?” She grins her entire face looks different. 

“I’m starting to like your questions.” She remarks. “Go get the strap then.” You nod, walking back over to the box and getting out a purple, rather large strap with some kind of liquid capsule attached. 

“This?” You question. She nods, beckoning you back over with her hand. You smile at it. 

“It’s purple.” You exclaim. She laughs, restraining the urge to say ‘no shit’

“It is.” She says instead. She moves back to the top of the bed, near the pillows.

“Get under me.” She says, and you nod, lying down and placing your head on one of the pillows. Sevika effortlessly attaches the strap to her waist. 

“This ones my absolutely favourite.” Sevika remarks. You nod, hoping she’ll elaborate further.

“It’s big….pretty, and it ejaculates too.” You stare at her, surprised.

“Really?” She nods.

“It’s just a water based lube, feels pretty good tho I’ve been told.”

“You never have it used on you?” You ask, and with this she takes her mechanical arm and wraps it around your throat. Not hard and she doesn’t squeeze either, but enough to tell you to shut the fuck up.

“I do the fucking. Always.” She says. You nod as well as you can with the hand on your neck. 

She puts her mechanical index finger at your entrance, pushing it inside carefully. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, shocked when she puts all of it inside.

“Seeing if you’re ready for me. You feel a little tight…”

“Only because your hand is almost half the size of my body Sevika…” you defend quickly. She laughs.

“So fucking eager. Here then.” She says, removing her hand and suddenly pushing half the fucking strap in. You let out a sharp gasp. She laughs.

“Hurts does it? And whose fault is that?”

“M…mine.” You whimper as she pushes more inside. She puts her mechanical hand back on your neck.

“Can I keep this here?” She asks. You nod, honestly having fantasied about this the moment you saw the hand.

“You can squeeze. If you want…” You say. Sevika raises her eyebrow.

“Ah, if I want huh?” She mocks, pushing the rest of the strap in and cautiously choking you. 

Now, she rocks in and out, squeezing with each thrust. Fuck. You could get used to this. In fact, you would pay for this if the roles were reversed. Her pace is merciless and she hits all the right places as she goes in and out of you. It’s almost no time before you’re cumming so fucking hard for her.

“Ngeuh….Sevika- ohfuckohfuck” You cry as you cum for a fourth time. She finally lets you go and you are left just sitting on her strap. She carefully picks you up off of it, removing the strap from her waist. 

“Now that wasn’t so bad was it?” She asks. You take a few deep breaths to compose herself. 

“Jesus…I um, I see what my friends meant.” You admit. She laughs.

“I knew you would.”

Pls my wife may we get some desperate lesbian content about friend (wife) reader ignoring abby after what she did to joel because she was scared, so abby just gets all teary eyed and just starts to try to please her sexually

What We Bury in Silence - abby anderson x reader

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

requests are open again! send me your silly thoughts:)

warnings: MDNI 18+ Explicit sexual content (fingering r receiving), themes of trauma and grief, emotional and psychological tension, references to violence and loss (Joel’s death), guilt, anger, and forgiveness struggles, raw emotional vulnerability and confession

summary: You and Abby were close—more than friends, though no one dared to say it aloud. But after Joel's death, you went quiet. Abby thought you'd never forgive her. That silence breaks one night when guilt, rage, and buried desire finally ignite.

masterlist

This story contains sexual content—please read with care. You are responsible for what you consume online.

You hadn’t said a word to her in weeks. Not since Jackson. Not since the blood. Not since you found out what she did.

Abby thought she'd be ready for the aftermath—Joel’s face haunting her dreams, her name spat like venom in town. But your silence? That hit deeper than any wound she’d ever taken.

You avoided her at base. Eyes down. Steps sharp. Not a glance. Not even hatred—just absence. It made her sick.

She knocked tonight anyway.

“Just talk to me,” Abby said through your door, voice low and wrecked. “Please.”

Nothing.

Abby stood there for minutes. She turned to leave—then froze when the door clicked open behind her.

Your eyes met. And it was like the air shattered. You were still wearing his jacket.

“Why are you here?” you asked, voice even but barely holding together.

Abby swallowed hard. “I didn’t come for a fight. I just…” Her voice cracked. “I miss you.”

You didn’t speak. Just stepped aside. Let her in like a storm you were too tired to fight.

She lingered by the table, arms stiff by her sides. “You won’t look at me,” she said. “You won’t yell. Won’t curse me out. Just… nothing.”

You sat on the couch. “What do you want from me, Abby?”

The name was a blade on your tongue.

She moved closer—slow, uncertain. “I want to explain.”

You let her. And she told you everything. Her dad. The Fireflies. Joel’s choice. Her own rage. When she finished, the silence was worse than before.

You stood. Crossed the room. She flinched when your hand brushed her cheek.

“I hate what you did,” you whispered. “I hate that I still want you.”

And something in her shattered.

The first kiss was desperate—salted with tears, teeth, regret. You shoved her back against the wall, hands tangling in her hair, lips fierce and unforgiving.

Abby groaned, fingers digging into your waist like she was scared you’d disappear. You bit her lip hard. She moaned.

“This doesn’t fix anything,” you hissed.

“I know,” she breathed, eyes dark. “But let me try anyway.”

You didn’t stop her when she sank to her knees. She tugged your pants down slowly, reverently, like she was asking for permission with every touch.

“I’m sorry,” she said against your inner thigh. “I’d take it back if I could. I’d undo all of it.”

You didn’t answer, but you didn’t push her away either. Her mouth was soft. Skilled. Every flick of her tongue was a plea for forgiveness.

You gasped, fisting her hair, thighs trembling.

“Fuck—Abby—”

She moaned at the sound of her name. You could feel her trembling too. She didn’t stop until you were wrecked—legs shaking, breath gone, body arched against the guilt and the heat between you.

And when you pulled her up and kissed her again, she cried into your mouth. You dragged her to bed. Tore her clothes off. Took your time making her fall apart—over and over again.

The air was thick with sweat, shame, and the unspoken truth that this might never be enough.

But it was something. It was real.

You woke tangled in her arms, her face buried in your neck like she couldn’t bear to let you go. You watched the sunrise in silence.

Then finally, softly: “I still don’t forgive you.”

Abby nodded against your skin. “I know.”

You turned to face her, touched her jaw.

“But I think I want to try.”

Nora told you exactly what she did. The brutality. The violence. You were disgusted despite knowing why she did it.

You don’t want to let her in. Not really. But the moment the door clicks shut behind you, every sharp edge of your silence softens—just a little.

She stands there, all tension and regret, like she’s trying to hold herself together for both of you. Maybe she’s the only one doing any holding right now.

“I didn’t come to make it worse,” Abby says, voice low, raw. “I just need you to hear me.”

You look away. “You don’t get to ask that. Not after everything.”

Her eyes flick down. “I know. I’m sorry. More than you can imagine.”

"You killed a girl's father Infront of her. You made her watch"

"He killed my dad"

Something twists inside you. You want to yell, to tell her to leave. But you just swallow and keep looking at the floor.

“I hate what you did,” you finally say, voice steady but cold. “And I hate that I still want you. It makes me sick.”

Abby’s breath catches. She takes a step closer, but you don’t flinch.

“why are you still here?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

She swallows, eyes searching yours like she’s trying to find a place to land. “Because I’m not ready to lose you.”

You don’t move. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing you crack. But inside, the walls are trembling.

“Why should I believe you?” you whisper, voice rough like gravel. “After everything you did, everything you took from her? Violence doesn't solve anything”

She steps closer, and you feel the heat of her breath. “Because I’m drowning in the same guilt. I carry it every second. Joel’s face, your silence... I don’t deserve you.”

You close your eyes for a moment, swallowing the lump in your throat. The truth is, you’ve missed her—the way she looked at you, fierce and broken all at once. But that only makes the ache worse.

“Maybe I want to hate you,” you admit, voice barely audible. “Maybe I want you to hurt like I do.”

Abby’s hands reach out slowly, trembling. “Then let me in. Let me be the reason you don’t have to carry it alone.”

Your heart is pounding, a wild, desperate rhythm that betrays your cold words. You push her hand away, but your body betrays you—your fingers twitch, wanting to touch her.

Her lips brush your neck, soft and tentative, and the ache spirals into something darker, something desperate.

You catch her mouth with yours, rough and urgent, like you’re trying to reclaim the pieces of yourself she holds hostage. Your hands thread through her hair, pulling her closer as your lips clash.

The taste of her—salt and something bittersweet—makes your knees weak. You break the kiss, gasping. “This doesn’t fix anything,” you choke out.

Abby’s voice is a whisper against your skin. “No. But maybe it’s a start.”

Her hands explore, tentative but hungry, trailing under your shirt like she’s memorizing every inch. You let go of some of the bitterness, the anger. Let the heat flood in and drown the cold for just a moment.

And when she sinks to her knees, the guilt and desire twist into a single, fierce need that can’t be denied.

Your breath hitches as she lowers herself, hands trembling but steady, like she’s asking for forgiveness with every touch. You don’t stop her—not because you forgive her yet, but because a part of you aches for this connection, this dangerous comfort.

Her mouth finds your skin, soft and worshipful, tracing a path that burns and soothes at the same time. You close your eyes, biting your lip to hold back a shudder.

“I don’t deserve this,” you whisper, voice rough.

Her hands clutch your hips tighter. “Maybe not. But I need this. Need you.”

You grip the back of her head, pulling her closer, desperate for something real in the chaos of guilt and rage. Her tongue flicks against your skin, and it’s like a spark igniting a wildfire beneath your ribs. You’re trembling, torn between pushing her away and pulling her deeper.

When she finally parts your clothing, her fingers brush over your skin like a promise — fragile but fierce. You gasp, caught between shame and want.

“Please,” she breathes, voice thick with need and regret.

You tremble but don’t say no.

Her mouth moves with reverence, worshipping every inch, every scar, every broken piece. You’re lost in the sensation, in the desperate heat that roars through you.

Your hands clutch her hair, pulling her up into a harsh, ragged kiss.

“I’m scared,” you confess, voice breaking. “Scared that I’ll never be okay. That I’ll never forgive.”

She kisses you harder. “Then I’ll keep fighting. For you. For us.”

The room hums with tension, desire, and the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, you can find a way through the wreckage — together.

Your breath is ragged, heart pounding like it wants to break free from your chest. Every touch from Abby feels like fire and ice all at once—burning away the walls you built, but freezing the parts of you that still ache with pain. You pull back slightly, eyes searching hers, desperate for something to hold onto.

“I’ve been so angry,” you whisper, voice raw and cracked. “Angry at you, at him, at myself. Angry because I thought if I stayed furious, I could protect what’s left of me.”

Her hands tremble as they cup your face. “I never wanted to take that from you. I wanted to be the one you could lean on, even if you didn’t believe it.”

Tears sting your eyes. You don’t wipe them away. Letting them fall feels like admitting you’re human—broken, hurting, but still here.

“I hate what you did,” you confess, voice breaking, “but I hate carrying this anger even more. It’s like poison, and I’m tired of being sick.”

Abby leans in, her lips brushing yours with such gentleness it makes your chest ache. “Then let me help you heal. Let me be the cure, even if it takes forever.”

You close your eyes and let yourself believe it—for just a moment, you let the weight of the past fall away.

When you open them again, you’re quiet but sure.

“I forgive you,” you say, barely above a whisper. “Not because it’s easy. Not because I forget. But because I don’t want this anger to own me anymore.”

Abby’s breath catches. She pulls you close, arms wrapping around you like she’s never letting go.

In that moment, broken and whole all at once, you realize forgiveness isn’t a clean slate. It’s a choice. A hard, painful, beautiful choice to let go and try again.

And you’re ready to take it.

The morning light filters softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room where you lie tangled in Abby’s arms. It’s quiet, but it’s not empty anymore.

You trace lazy circles on her back, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath. The weight of yesterday’s confessions still lingers, but it’s lighter now—less a burden, more a fragile thread holding you both together.

You don’t pretend the past is gone. You know the scars remain, invisible to others but etched deep inside. But for the first time, those scars don’t feel like walls. They feel like part of the map—proof of how far you’ve come.

Abby shifts, resting her forehead against yours. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

You smile softly, heart swelling with something you thought was lost—hope.

“Thank you for not giving up.”

You don’t know what the future holds. Maybe there will be more pain, more fights, more moments where forgiveness feels impossible.

But right now, wrapped in this fragile peace, you decide it’s enough.

It’s enough to try. To live. To heal.

Together.

Can i ask for both characters (abby and ellie)?

Reader is secretly (not so secret but yea 😭) in love with ellie but ellie and dina happen so reader gets out of jackson and meets abby? And when she comes back to visit jesse (thats our bestie) they all reunite (awkwardly so 😭) and ellie is so jealous and in love, abby is smug and protective and readers like "im glad were all adults who can get along 😃"

Joels alive and well for the sake of the plot 😭

Look at us now - ellie & abby x reader

hi anon!! this is lowkey such a good plot. I had 3 alternative endings lmfao, lmk if you want a different version! I hope you enjoy:)

pairing: abby anderson, ellie williams x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts and ideas!!

warnings: angst, jealousy, protective behavior

summary: Caught between a turbulent past with Ellie and a slowly blossoming future with Abby, you're forced to confront everything you thought you knew about love, loyalty, and healing.

masterlist

You never meant to leave Jackson like that.

No goodbye to Ellie. Not even Jesse, who deserved better. Just a backpack, shaking hands, and the last whisper of your pride dragging you out through the gate before sunrise.

You told yourself it wasn’t because of Ellie. Not entirely. But the image of her and Dina walking hand in hand, smiling like they didn’t just break you in half—that was hard to forget. You kept quiet. You never told her how you felt. Maybe she knew.

Maybe that made it worse.

Six months later

“Are you gonna keep staring or shoot something?”

The teasing voice cuts through the morning haze. Abby’s standing next to you, crossbow slung lazily over her shoulder, a smug little smile tugging at her mouth.

“Sorry,” you mutter, cheeks warm. “Lost in thought.”

She quirks a brow, walking closer until her shadow falls across your boots. “That mean you were thinking about me?”

You scoff, but your grin gives you away. Abby’s always like this—half flirting, half mocking. You like it more than you should. You like her more than you should. And somewhere along the line, she stopped being a distraction and started being a possibility.

Jackson feels like a lifetime ago.

When Jesse writes to you, everything tilts.

"Come visit. Joel’s throwing a birthday thing. Ellie’ll be there. Dina too. Don’t make it weird, okay? We miss you"

You don’t want to go. But you do.

Abby insists on coming. “For protection,” she says. “What if they throw a pitchfork at you for leaving?”

You laugh. “You just want to meet the ex.”

Abby’s quiet a second too long. “Just want to see where you came from.”

The reunion is exactly as awful as you feared. Jesse hugs you so tight you almost cry. Dina gives you a polite nod. Ellie—Ellie looks like she’s seen a ghost.

“Hey,” you offer, and her name sticks in your throat like a splinter. “You look… good.”

She doesn’t respond right away. Just blinks. Then, “You cut your hair.”

“Yeah.”

Abby lingers by the door, clearly sizing Ellie up. You wave her over, desperate for something familiar.

“Everyone—this is Abby. She’s… she’s important to me.”

Ellie’s face twitches.

“Oh, so that’s what you ran off to find,” she mutters under her breath, loud enough to make Jesse flinch. Dina shoots Ellie a warning look, but Abby’s already smiling, slow and dangerous.

“Nice to meet you,” Abby says, sticking her hand out. “Heard a lot about you.”

Ellie ignores it.

Joel, bless him, barges in then, cheerful and oblivious. “Well, if it ain’t our favorite runaway! C’mere!”

You breathe again. For now.

Dinner is a battlefield. Ellie won’t stop watching you. Her fork scrapes her plate like she’s trying to dig into your thoughts.

“So, Abby,” she says at one point, venom sweet in her voice. “What brings you to Jackson? Other than dragging Y/N back?”

“I didn’t drag her anywhere,” Abby replies coolly. “She wanted something better.”

Your eyes widen. “Abby—”

“No offense,” she adds, not looking sorry at all.

Ellie slams her cup down. “None taken. I mean, it’s not like she left without telling anyone. That would’ve been rude.”

You stare at your lap, throat burning. Abby’s hand slips under the table and finds yours. Gentle. Firm. Protective.

Ellie notices.

“I’m glad we’re all adults who can get along,” you mutter, trying to defuse the tension. “Right?”

Joel raises a glass. “To that.”

But the look in Ellie’s eyes says otherwise.

Later that night

You find Ellie outside, leaning against the porch railing, smoking.

“I didn’t know she was your girlfriend,” she says, not looking at you.

“She’s not. Not officially.”

“But you’re with her.”

You nod. “Yeah.”

She breathes in, hard. “I thought you loved me.”

“I did,” you admit. “Maybe I still do. But you chose Dina.”

“That was complicated.”

“You made it pretty simple when you kissed her in front of me.”

Ellie turns to you finally, something raw in her expression. “I didn’t think you’d leave.”

You smile, bitter. “Then you didn’t know me at all.” You walk away before she can answer.

Abby is waiting for you in Jesse’s spare room.

She doesn’t ask questions. Just pulls you onto the bed, wrapping her arms around you like she knows how heavy everything is.

“I don’t care about her,” you whisper. “Not like that. Not anymore.”

Abby kisses your temple. “I know.”

“But she looked at me like she regretted everything.”

“She’s too late.”

You turn to her, fingers brushing her cheek. “Are you okay with this? With her still… being around?”

Abby shrugs, cocky. “She can look. I’m the one you sleep next to.”

You laugh. For the first time that night, it feels real.

By the time you leave Jackson, the air between you and Ellie is ice-thin and brittle. You hug Jesse, thank Dina for being kind. Joel sends you off with a wave and a warning: “Take care of her, Abby.”

Abby salutes. “Always.”

As you mount your horse, Ellie appears at the gate. She doesn’t speak, just stands there, eyes full of everything unsaid.

You ride past her without stopping. This time, you don’t look back.

That night, in your shared sleeping bag, Abby pulls you close.

“You okay?”

You nod against her chest. “I’m glad we’re all adults who can get along.”

Abby snorts. “Ellie looked like she was gonna explode.”

“She’s jealous.”

“She should be. I would be.”

You glance up at her. “You’re not jealous?”

Abby leans down, lips brushing your forehead. “No need to be. I already won.”

And yeah—she did.

Ellie doesn’t remember how to breathe when she saw you again.

You’re laughing—eyes squinting in the sunlight, hand curled around Abby’s arm, your body tucked close to hers like you belong there.

Like you never belonged to Ellie. But you did. At least… you used to.

It starts with a letter.

"Hey. I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About you. About us. I was stupid, and if you’d let me talk, I’d really like to see you again"

You don’t respond. But Ellie doesn’t stop.

She sends another. Then another.

The fourth letter includes a drawing—your favorite flower, shaded with ink smudges and tiny words hidden in the petals: I miss you.

Abby finds it first.

“She’s reaching,” she says flatly, handing it to you.

You trace the lines with your thumb, then fold it neatly and throw it into the fire.

Two months later, she shows up. Just shows up in your settlement, boots caked in dust, hair a little longer than before, guitar slung over her back like an apology. You’re standing in the garden when you spot her. For a second, the world tilts.

She looks the same. Sad eyes. Tight mouth. That same goddamn hoodie you used to fall asleep on. Your heart aches—but not for her. For the girl you used to be.

“Hey,” she says, voice hoarse.

“Ellie.” You straighten. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I came to see you.”

Abby steps out from the porch, drying her hands on a rag, eyes narrowing the second she sees Ellie. She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t need to.

Ellie shifts uncomfortably. “Can we talk?”

You glance at Abby. She raises an eyebrow, like she’s daring you to say yes.

“I’ll give you five minutes,” you tell Ellie. “That’s it.”

She follows you to the creek.

It used to be your spot. You carved your name into a tree nearby—Y/N + ?, like you were waiting for someone to be brave enough to claim it.

Ellie never was. Now it mocks her.

“I was wrong,” she starts. “About everything.”

You don’t speak.

“I thought Dina was what I wanted. But every time I looked at her, all I could think about was you.”

You sigh. “Ellie—”

“I didn’t know how to say it. I thought if I ignored it, it’d go away. But it didn’t. It got worse.”

She moves closer. You take a step back.

“I’m with Abby now,” you say gently. “I’m happy.”

“I can make you happy too.”

“No, Ellie.” You shake your head. “You had your chance.”

Her jaw tenses. “She’s not me.”

“Exactly,” you say. “She shows up. She listens. She didn’t wait until someone else loved me to finally care.”

Ellie flinches like you slapped her. “I never stopped caring.”

“But you stopped trying. And I’m done chasing people who don’t choose me.”

When you leave her at the creek, you feel lighter. You expect her to disappear after that. But she stays.

She helps in the stables. Plays guitar for the kids. Smiles politely when she sees you.

She’s trying. And it hurts to watch.

Abby corners her one evening.

“You think you’re gonna win her back?”

Ellie straightens. “Not trying to start anything.”

“Good. Because you’d lose.”

Ellie scoffs. “You think she really loves you?”

Abby smiles, slow and dangerous. “She wakes up with her hand on my chest. Calls me home in her sleep. You tell me.”

Ellie swallows hard. “If I’d asked her to stay back then…”

“She would’ve,” Abby says. “And you didn’t.”

She walks away, leaving Ellie exactly where she belongs—behind.

You find Ellie packing a few days later.

“You’re leaving?”

She nods, not meeting your eyes. “Figured I wore out my welcome.”

You hesitate. “Ellie—”

“I don’t want you to forgive me,” she says quickly. “I just wanted to be close to you. Even if it was just as a ghost.”

There’s a long silence. Then you say, “You weren’t a ghost. You were a mistake.”

She flinches.

“And I needed that mistake to know what I deserve.”

Ellie nods, lips trembling. “She’s good to you.”

“She’s everything to me.”

That night, you curl into Abby’s arms and whisper, “She’s gone.”

Abby doesn’t say, I told you so.

She just kisses the back of your neck and says, “I’m not going anywhere.”

And that’s all you need to hear.

Abby is so hottttttt

I want to kiss her pretty little face after sex with her and telling her that shes pretty and sweet 🥺 and i want her to make me stay in bed even if we have patrol and being all clingy and cute 🥺

#need her

Stay in bed - abby anderson x reader

hi anon! this deadass made me sigh out of singleness... i hope you enjoy:)

Pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

requests are open again! send me your silly thoughts:)

warnings: none

Summary: in which you stayed in bed

masterlist

The early morning sun filtered through the gaps in the blinds, casting golden stripes across Abby's bare back as she lay on her side, one muscled arm tucked under the pillow, the other draped across your waist. You were tangled in the warmth of her, limbs lazy and heavy, breaths slow. The blanket clung to your hips, your skin still humming from last night’s closeness.

You hadn’t meant to stay up so late. Patrol had been long and cold, but Abby had pulled you close the second you got back—no words, just warmth and need. The way she kissed you last night, with a mixture of urgency and tenderness, had left you aching in the best way.

And now, in the quiet hush of dawn, you traced the curve of her shoulder with your fingertips, marveling at how someone so strong could feel so gentle.

“I know you’re awake,” you whispered against her skin, your lips brushing just beneath her ear.

Abby groaned, pulling you tighter into her. “I don’t want to get up. Not if it means leaving this.”

You smiled, heart fluttering. “We have patrol in an hour.”

Her arm curled more securely around you. “Fuck patrol.”

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “That’s not very responsible of you, Anderson.”

Her head tilted up enough to look at you with sleep-heavy eyes. “What are they gonna do? Fire me?” She smirked, then softened when she saw your flushed cheeks, your thumb grazing her jaw. “You’re too pretty. You make it hard to care about anything else.”

Your breath caught. Abby didn’t always say things like that—not out loud. She was more action than words, more presence than poetry. But when she did speak like this, it was honest, and it hit you deep.

“I want to kiss your pretty little face forever,” you murmured, echoing the sentiment you’d once written anonymously in your journal. You leaned in and did just that—soft kisses at the corner of her mouth, down the curve of her jaw. “You’re so sweet when you’re like this.”

Abby’s hand slid under your shirt—her shirt, really—resting just at your waist. “You’re clingy,” she teased, but her voice was laced with affection. “I like it."

You laughed again, curling up closer, hiding your face in her chest. “You started it. You’re the one who pulled me in the second we walked through the door.”

“That’s different,” she said, kissing the top of your head. “You looked cold.”

“And now?”

“Now you look like mine,” she whispered.

There was a long silence after that. The kind that felt sacred. The kind that didn’t need filling.

Eventually, you felt her shift and sighed as she tried to move. “Nooo, stay.”

Abby chuckled and collapsed back onto the bed with exaggerated drama. “Fine. But just five more minutes.”

“Fifteen,” you bargained, arms locking around her waist.

She kissed your forehead. “Fifteen minutes. Then we do something irresponsible, like skip patrol and make breakfast naked.”

Your laugh turned into a snort. “We’ll get arrested.”

“Worth it,” she muttered sleepily, eyes already drifting closed again.

You stayed there, wrapped up in her, heart full. Maybe the world was still broken in a thousand different ways, but here, in this bed, you had a moment of peace. And Abby. That was enough.

Abby Anderson Masterlist

main master list

about me!

Stories𓂃⋆.˚

- what we bury in silence: You and Abby were close—more than friends, though no one dared to say it aloud. But after Joel's death, you went quiet. Abby thought you'd never forgive her. That silence breaks one night when guilt, rage, and buried desire finally ignite.

- look at us now: Caught between a turbulent past with Ellie and a slowly blossoming future with Abby, you're forced to confront everything you thought you knew about love, loyalty, and healing.

- stateside: After months apart, Abby finally comes home—but the distance hasn’t only been physical. As old feelings resurface and tension brews, you’re both forced to confront what was left unsaid before she left.

- new magic wand: Abby has never been good at letting things go. And she sure as hell isn't letting go of you.

- stay in bed: in which you stayed in bed

- mrs. postman: in which you fell for the post lady.

series𓂃⋆.˚

Milf Abby

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Baby

part 1 part 2 part 3

drabbles, hcs and short stories𓂃⋆.˚

gamer abby (hcs)

ceo abby (hcs)

Headcannons: dad's best friend!abby anderson x reader

masterlist

☆ Abby is your dad’s closest friend, someone who’s always been around but never really close to you. You were just the kid in the background—until one day, you weren’t.

☆ She saw it change in real time. You grew up. You started speaking with confidence, dressing differently, looking her in the eye. And it scared the hell out of her.

☆ She resisted—tried to ignore the way your laugh lingered in her mind or the way you’d look at her like you knew. But she couldn’t stop noticing you.

☆ The first time it happened, it was a mistake. A late-night conversation on the porch after your dad went to bed. A shared bottle of whiskey. A too-long stare. Your hand brushing hers.

☆ She kissed you. Hard. Desperate. She pulled away like she'd been burned, pacing, swearing under her breath, apologizing.

☆ You told her you wanted it. She told you it couldn’t happen again. It did.

☆ She never stays the night. Never kisses you in the daylight. Never looks at you for too long in public.

☆ You sneak around like it’s life or death. Quick meetups. Locked doors. Lies stacked on lies. Sometimes it makes you sick with adrenaline. Sometimes it makes you cry.

☆ Abby keeps trying to end it—but she always comes back. She’s addicted to you, even if she won’t admit it.

☆ Abby is riddled with guilt. You’re too young. You’re your father's daughter. She’s betraying someone who trusts her with his life. But she wants you—needs you—in a way that’s primal.

☆ She hates herself for it, but you’re the only one who sees her vulnerability. When she’s with you, she lets the walls fall.

☆ You hate the hiding. Hate pretending like she’s just your dad’s friend when she’s the one who’s memorized the way your body moves and how you like your coffee.

☆ She’s older, bigger, more experienced—and sometimes, she uses that. When you’re bratty or push her buttons, she’ll pin you against a wall, palm flat beside your head, whispering, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

☆ But you’re not powerless. You know how to get to her. How to sit in her lap like it’s innocent. How to call her “Miss Anderson” in a mocking tone just to watch her unravel.

☆ Every moment between you is coiled like a spring—either about to snap into intimacy or explode in a fight.

☆ She hates seeing you with people your age. If you flirt with someone at a party, she corners you in the hallway with fire in her eyes: “You really want to play that game, sweetheart?”

☆ She doesn’t call you hers, but she touches you like you are. Marks you where no one can see. Leaves bruises on your hips and hickeys on your inner thighs like she’s branding you.

☆ When someone else starts showing interest in you, she snaps. Shows up at your apartment. Kisses you like punishment.

☆ Every sound in the hallway makes you freeze when you're together. Every time your dad mentions Abby, your stomach flips.

☆ One close call nearly ends everything—your dad comes home early while she’s still there. You hide in your room, half-dressed, while she plays it cool like she hasn’t just kissed you breathless.

☆ After that, she disappears for days. No calls. No texts. Then she shows up in the middle of the night, eyes red, whispering “I can’t stay away.”

☆ There’s something sacred in the way she holds you in silence. Like you’re the only thing keeping her sane. The way she lets you trace the scars on her back. The way she murmurs your name like a confession.

☆ Sometimes she sneaks into your bed and stays until dawn, just holding you. You wake up to her running her fingers through your hair like she’s memorizing the way you breathe.

☆ She never says "I love you" out loud. But you hear it in the way she says your name. In the way she lingers after kissing you goodbye, her hand hesitating at the doorknob.

☆ The secrecy starts to eat at you. You want her in the open. You want her to fight for you. But she’s scared—scared of destroying your family, of losing everything.

☆ You fight. She pushes you away. You think it’s over. But then she shows up at your door during a storm, soaked, shaking, whispering, “I’d rather burn for this than live without you.”

☆ That night, you realize she loves you—but she doesn’t know how to love you in the light.

☆ There are only two options: get caught… or leave.

☆ Abby starts talking about running away. Not in a romantic way—more like survival. “If he finds out, it’s over for me. For us. I’d lose you both.”

☆ You tell her you’d follow her. She tells you not to say things like that if you don’t mean them.

☆ By day, she’s the picture of loyalty: dependable, trustworthy Abby Anderson—the friend your dad relies on, the one who helps fix the roof and grills on weekends like she’s part of the family.

☆ But by night? She’s slipping into your room when no one’s watching. Holding you like she’s starved. Kissing you like she’s trying to press her soul into your mouth.

☆ She hates the mirror lately. Hates seeing herself knowing what she’s doing. But the only time she doesn’t feel like a monster is when she’s buried in your arms.

☆ She cooks for you in secret. Not well, but she tries—burnt grilled cheese, bland pasta. You eat it anyway, legs wrapped around her hips at the kitchen counter.

☆ She keeps a drawer of your things in her apartment: a sweater, a scrunchie, a book you left behind. She told herself it was just until you took them back—but she likes seeing pieces of you there.

☆ You steal a pair of her dog tags. Wear them under your clothes like a talisman. She notices, and that night, she makes you wear nothing but them.

☆ You have a code phrase—“Are you free to talk?”—that means “I need you. Now.”

☆ You meet in quiet places: her truck parked on the cliffside at night, an old garage your dad doesn’t use, hotel rooms under fake names. Every touch is frantic. Every goodbye, heartbreaking.

☆ After every time, she tells you it’s the last. She never means it. You both pretend like the next time won’t happen, even though it always does.

☆ She hid her jealousy well—until she doesn’t. If someone else touches you, even innocently, she goes cold. Her voice sharpens. Her eyes darken. Later, she drags you into a quiet room and kisses you like she owns you.

“No one else gets to see you like this.”

“You shouldn’t be showing yourself to anyone but me.”

☆ It’s twisted, and it turns you on. But it scares her. She’s never felt this out of control before, and it makes her want to run—or hold on tighter.

☆ After she touches you, there’s always a pause. A moment of silence where she looks at you like she’s doing something unforgivable. Like she’s already lost you.

☆ Sometimes she sits at the edge of the bed, head in her hands. “I shouldn’t want this,” she whispers. “I shouldn’t want you.”

You crawl into her lap, cup her face, and say, “Then don’t make me beg.”

And that’s all it takes—her restraint shatters.

☆ She knows every inch of you—where to touch, where you’re ticklish, what makes you melt. But it’s not just sex. It’s the way her hands tremble when she unzips your hoodie. The way her breath catches when you say her name like a secret.

Her voice drops when she’s turned on. Low, rough, almost pleading.

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Tell me you’re mine. Even if it’s just here.”

☆ She can’t be soft in public, so she’s overwhelmingly soft in private. She holds you like a secret she’ll die to keep. Kisses your forehead. Tells you she dreams of a version of the world where this isn’t wrong.

☆ You want more. You start slipping up. Touching her shoulder when your dad’s in the room. Smiling at her too long. She panics when you get bold.

“You’re going to ruin this,” she hisses one day when you almost kiss her goodbye. “Someone will find out.”

“Then let them,” you challenge.

She grabs your wrist. “Don’t ever say that again.”

☆ It starts to hurt—loving someone in the shadows. The secrets eat at you. You wonder if she’ll ever really choose you.

☆ You tell her: “I want a life with you. I want to hold your hand in public. I want people to know you’re mine.”

☆ Abby’s voice breaks. “I want that too. But I want your dad to look me in the eye without seeing betrayal. I want to deserve you first.”

☆ A near-discovery shakes everything. Maybe someone sees you leaving her place at dawn. Maybe your dad borrows her phone and sees your contact.

☆ Abby freaks out. Cuts contact. Says it’s over. You cry. She watches from a distance, agonizing over it.

☆ Then, weeks later—she shows up at your door again. Hands shaking. Heart bare. “I tried. I can’t stop. I need you.”

☆ She finally asks you to leave with her. No more hiding. No more pretending.

“Let’s go somewhere no one knows us. I’ll build us a life. Just say the word.”

Can you do smt for abby with the song new magic wand by Tyler the creator?

I love her puppy eyes and muscles so much 🥺

Also, i love obsessive women so

New Magic Wand - abby anderson x reader

hi anon!! fictional obsessive women are so hot ughhhhhhhh. i hope you enjoy:) also abby in this pic??? i love her.

this story is based off the song new magic wand by tyler the creator. If you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts:)

Warnings: dark themes, obsession, violence, psychological tension

Summary: Abby has never been good at letting things go. And she sure as hell isn't letting go of you.

Masterlist

You met Abby during a supply run in Jackson. Just two soldiers assigned to the same patrol, nothing special. But there was something about you—your laugh, maybe. The way you didn’t flinch when she barked orders. The way you looked at the world like it hadn’t completely fallen apart.

That was two months ago.

Now, she watches you from the shadows.

She doesn’t mean to. At first, it was casual. Coincidental. A walk past the stables. Lingering near the training yard. Asking around. But then she saw you with someone else. That girl—Mia, from the medbay. Too close. Touching your wrist. Whispering.

Abby’s jaw locked so tight her molars ached.

She waited. Quiet. Calculating.

She told herself you weren’t hers. But that wasn’t true. Not really.

You were hers. You just didn’t know it yet.

“She’s gonna be dead, I just got a magic wand.”

You started noticing strange things.

Your door left slightly ajar when you knew you closed it. The sweater you thought you lost suddenly reappearing on your cot. A shadow behind you in the glass of the dining hall. At first, you brushed it off. The world was full of paranoia and trauma—maybe it was just stress.

Then Mia disappeared.

She never showed up to her shift. Her bunk was untouched. No note. No signs of struggle.

You asked questions. Abby watched you from across the rec room as you begged the search party to look further. No one had the energy to care. People disappeared sometimes.

But Abby cared.

Abby had taken care of the problem.

She didn't use a "magic wand"—just her hands. Just enough pressure. She didn’t scream. Abby was proud of that. No mess. No loose ends.

She thought you'd notice her now. You didn’t.

You started pulling away. Spending more time alone. Your smile—her favorite thing about you—began to dim. She hated that. Hated that you didn’t know she was trying to protect you.

Abby tried to get closer. Leaving you small things. A can of your favorite peaches. A leather glove you mentioned needing. You thanked her, politely.

But not the way she wanted.

“I need to get her out the picture, she’s really fucking up my frame.”

Abby started dreaming about you. In those dreams, you kissed her like you meant it. You let her hold you. You begged her to stay. Woke up to soaked sheets and a clenched jaw.

Reality was uglier. You barely looked at her now. You were scared—she could see it in your eyes. That made her blood boil and her stomach twist.

It was that fucking patrol leader next.

Sergio.

Too friendly. Too smug. Too willing to walk next to you, show you how to hold a better grip on your rifle.

Abby followed him. Took his knee out behind the stables. Broke his arm and left him in the snow. Said she found him that way.

It wasn’t about jealousy, she told herself. It was about clarity. You and her—there was no room for anyone else in the picture.

They were ruining the shot. The life she could see so clearly with you.

She’d fix it.

“I wanna be found, passenger in your car.”

You knew it by the fourth disappearance. This wasn’t just coincidence. Someone was doing this.

Someone was doing this for you.

That’s when you found the journal.

Hidden under the floorboard in the old stables. Pages and pages of your name. Drawings of your face. A lock of your hair taped to the corner of a page. Abby’s messy handwriting scrawled beneath every entry:

“I saw her smile today. I think she smiled at me.”

“She wore her green coat. It suits her. She looked cold—I should bring her another.”

“She looked at her again. I want to rip her throat out.”

“She's mine. She just doesn't understand yet.”

Your breath caught. She was watching you. All this time.

“You got a new friend, it hurts. I’ll make you one, I’ll make you one.”

You confronted her. Cornered her in the greenhouse, where no one else went anymore.

"Abby," you said, voice trembling. "What the fuck did you do?"

She didn’t deny it. Just looked at you like she always had—like you were the sun burning through her skull.

“I protected you,” she said. “They didn’t deserve you. None of them did.”

“You killed them,” you whispered.

She stepped closer. You flinched. That hurt her—cut deep.

“I’d do it again,” Abby murmured, voice soft and low. “I’d do anything for you.”

You should’ve run. You should’ve screamed.

But something in her eyes—something fractured and sincere—rooted you in place.

She reached out, calloused fingers brushing your cheek. You didn’t move.

"You don’t have to be scared," she whispered. "I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want you to see. We can be good, you and me."

And despite everything—the deaths, the obsession, the blood on her hands—your heart stuttered.

Because some broken, desperate part of you wanted to believe her.

Wanted to believe you could be loved that completely.

“Please don’t leave me now.”

Abby kept you in a cabin miles from Jackson. Safe. Stocked. Secluded. A place where no one could come between you.

She made you tea. Lit the fireplace. Spoke softly. Touched you like you were made of glass.

You tried to run once. She found you hours later, frostbitten and sobbing.

She carried you back. Wrapped you in blankets. Kissed your forehead.

“You don’t get it,” she murmured against your skin. “You’re all I have left.”

And eventually...you stopped fighting. Let her touch linger. Let her hold you at night.

You told yourself it was survival. But when she kissed you the first time, your lips parted.

Not in protest.

But in surrender.

stateside- abby anderson x reader

this story is based off the song state side by pinkpantheress, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your ideas:)

Warnings: Jealousy, emotional repression, post-situationship confusion, cursing, mentions of hookup culture, kissing, emotional vulnerability

Summary: After months apart, Abby finally comes home—but the distance hasn’t only been physical. As old feelings resurface and tension brews, you’re both forced to confront what was left unsaid before she left.

Setting: Modern College AU

Masterlist

You weren’t her girlfriend. Not officially. You weren’t even sure what you were.

Somewhere between a secret, a comfort, and a goddamn heartbeat.

Late-night car rides. Unspoken rules. Her breath at your neck when the world went quiet—but no hand-holding in public, no posting you on stories, no “this is my girl.”

You told yourself you were okay with it.

You weren’t.

So when Abby left for her out-of-state internship with no real goodbye—just a message that read:

“Headed out. Don’t wait up.”

—it cracked something open in you. And three months later, you still hadn’t sealed it shut.

It wasn’t just the photos (though they burned.)

The ones where she stood beside that medical student—Isla. Bright smile. Tank top. Hand on Abby’s shoulder like it belonged there.

It was the silence.

No texts. No late-night calls. No “I miss you.”

And yet every time you closed your eyes, you could feel her:

The weight of her hand on your thigh in the car.

The way she pulled you close but never close enough.

You tried to move on.

Hooked up once with someone too sweet and too soft.

But it wasn’t her. And the silence only got louder.

You found out she was back from some guy at a party.

“Didn’t you and Abby Anderson used to mess around?” he asked lazily, red cup in hand.

You froze. “What?”

“She’s back in town. Thought I saw her near the gym.”

The air shifted around you. Your ears rang. You left the party early.

Buzzing with resentment and longing, palms sweaty from the weight of things unsaid.

You didn’t text her.

But you stared at her contact all night, whispering to yourself, don’t be that girl. And then you were.

The next day, she was just there—in the café near campus, hoodie loose over her frame, head bent over her laptop.

You froze when you saw her. She looked up. Blinked. Took an AirPod out.

“Hey,” she said, like no time had passed. Like you weren’t breaking.

You sat across from her before you could change your mind. “You’re back.”

“Tuesday.”

You looked at your hands. “No text?”

She winced. “Didn’t think you’d want one.”

“You left without saying goodbye.”

“I didn’t think I deserved one,” she said, softer.

That shut you up. Because deep down… maybe she was right.

You left together. Neither of you said it out loud—but somehow, you ended up in her car. The way you always used to.

Same quiet roads. Same faint music.

Same ache in your chest.

You turned to her. “You seeing someone?”

She hesitated. “No. You?”

You shook your head. “Tried. Didn’t work.”

The air between you pulsed.

“Why didn’t you call?” you asked.

She tightened her grip on the wheel. “Because I knew if I did… I wouldn’t stop.”

Silence.

You stared ahead. “I would’ve answered.”

She pulled over.

“I missed you,” she admitted. “More than I should’ve.”

You didn’t know if it was closure or a beginning. But you kissed her anyway.

You slept in her bed that night.

She didn’t touch you—not at first. Just handed you an old hoodie, let you curl under her blanket, and sat down next to you like she was scared to break something fragile.

You wanted to ask her what this meant. If this was her way of coming back.

Instead, you whispered, “I missed your room.”

And she whispered back, “I missed your voice.”

That was enough—for now.

Over the next week, you kept pretending it was nothing.

Texts. “Wanna grab food?” “You still awake?” “Need a ride?”

But it wasn’t casual. Not really.

Not when she looked at you like that.

Not when her fingers brushed yours and lingered.

Not when she flinched every time someone else mentioned Isla.

You weren’t hers. She wasn’t yours.

But you were still something.

And that something was slowly burning the both of you alive.

The breaking point came on a Friday night.

You were at a mutual friend’s place, trying to play it cool. Abby walked in late—messy bun, grey t-shirt, muscle memory and heartbreak wrapped in denim.

And Isla was there too.

They didn’t touch. But she stood close. Laughed too loud. Looked too often.

Your heart fell into your stomach.

Abby caught your eye across the room. You held her gaze for one full second before walking out.

You didn’t even make it halfway down the street before she caught up.

“Wait,” she called.

You spun on her. “What are we doing, Abby?”

She blinked.

“I can’t keep pretending we don’t matter,” you said, voice cracking. “I can’t keep acting like this is casual when it never was.”

Silence.

Her jaw clenched. “You think I don’t want you?”

“I think you’re too scared to admit you do.”

That hit something deep.

She stepped forward, crowding into your space. “You’re wrong.”

“Then say it.”

She grabbed your face in both hands. “I want you.”

Your breath caught.

“God help me, I want you,” she said, forehead pressed to yours. “I left because I thought I’d ruin it. Because I’m not soft, and I don’t know how to be good at this—but I never stopped thinking about you.”

You kissed her like you were drowning.

And this time, she kissed you back like she meant it.

They don’t fix it all at once.

But they start over—this time with honesty. This time with intention.

No more hiding. No more maybe.

Just two people learning how to love each other out loud—even if it scares them.

Headcannons: ceo!abby anderson x fem!reader

masterlist

☆ Abby is the kind of CEO who commands a room the moment she walks in. Tailored suits, sharp jawline, low voice that cuts through the noise. People either fear her or fall in love with her—there’s no in-between.

☆ She didn’t inherit the company; she built her reputation through blood, sweat, and an iron will. Everyone knows the rumors: military background, strategic acquisitions, never smiles unless she’s already won.

☆ In meetings, she’s precise, no-nonsense. Employees scramble to meet deadlines because the idea of disappointing her is terrifying—but deep down, they respect her. She’s fair. She rewards loyalty, effort, and genius when she sees it.

☆ You work in one of the departments she rarely pays attention to—PR, internal communications, or perhaps you're an executive assistant brought in as a temp to cover someone’s maternity leave.

☆ She notices you because you’re not intimidated by her. You’re polite but blunt, you don’t fawn over her like others do. And when she gives you a task, you complete it perfectly—without needing a follow-up.

☆ The first time she really looks at you is when you correct a minor detail in one of her public statements. She stares at you for a beat too long, then nods. That’s when it all started.

☆ Abby is all control—she’s used to people submitting, obeying. But you? You don’t give her that satisfaction easily. It drives her insane and fascinates her at the same time.

☆ She tries to keep it professional, but her restraint cracks. She starts showing up near your desk more often than necessary, asking for “updates” she could have emailed about.

☆ You make her feel off-balance, and Abby hates being off-balance—but she keeps coming back for it.

☆ When the relationship starts, it’s secret. Very secret. Her rules: no one knows, no workplace displays, and absolutely no compromising your career because of her.

☆ But it doesn’t take long before those lines blur. She touches your wrist in meetings. She defends you publicly. She gets jealous when other execs talk to you.

☆ Abby’s bedroom persona is different—still dominant, but reverent. Like she’s worshipping something she doesn’t think she deserves.

☆ She tries to be gentle, but her hands are rough, and her need is overwhelming. She’ll press you into soft sheets in her penthouse, hair loose, voice husky as she murmurs your name like a prayer.

☆ Aftercare is where her walls drop: she wraps you in her arms, kisses your forehead, brushes your hair back. She doesn’t say much, but the way she holds you says it all.

☆ You’re the only person who’s seen Abby cry. It happened once after a brutal boardroom betrayal. You found her sitting alone in her office at 1AM, hands shaking, eyes red. She didn’t send you away.

☆ She doesn’t let anyone touch her unless she initiates—except you. If you brush your hand over hers during a bad day, she visibly relaxes. No one else has that power.

☆ She trusts you with her past. Military trauma, the father she lost, the fear of turning into a machine. You’re her anchor.

☆ Abby doesn’t get petty jealous—but if someone flirts with you at a company party, she’s by your side in seconds. Hand on your lower back, icy stare, soft command in your ear: “Come with me.”

☆ If you’re ever hurt, dismissed, or undermined at work, Abby becomes an unstoppable force. “They don’t work here anymore,” she’ll say flatly, her protectiveness quiet and lethal.

☆ Sends you flowers “anonymously” that somehow end up in the executive suite with your name on them.

☆ Leaves sticky notes on your monitor with short notes: “You killed it today.” “Dinner tonight, 8PM.” “Proud of you.”

☆ Hires a private chef for your birthday but insists on cooking breakfast herself the next morning in nothing but a shirt and boxers.

☆ Keeps a framed candid photo of you in her locked drawer. You don’t know about it, but she looks at it on the hardest days.

☆ Eventually, you’re not a secret anymore. Abby makes it public in her own way: attending a gala with you on her arm, no apology in her eyes.

☆ She promotes you—not because of your relationship, but because you’re damn good at what you do. She makes sure no one can question your worth.

☆ Talks about retirement one day. Not to quit, but to slow down. “Maybe we’ll move somewhere quieter,” she murmurs against your neck. “Somewhere with a garden.”

☆ You knew Abby loved her diary. She wrote everything in there, every emotion, every high and every low. You were never allowed to read it, until one day you were alone in her room you decided to take a peek:

January 3rd

11:47 PM – Office

I saw her again today.

Same desk. Same quiet smile. Same nerve to look me dead in the eye without flinching.

I shouldn’t notice. I shouldn’t care.

But I do. And it’s starting to piss me off.

-

February 9th

1:15 AM – Penthouse

She corrected me. In front of the team.

Tactfully. Respectfully. But it was still a correction.

And god, it turned me on.

What the hell is wrong with me?

-

March 2nd

10:06 PM – Gym Locker Room

She wore her hair up today. It pulled her features tighter, more severe. And yet, all I wanted to do was tug it loose and see her fall apart.

I made up a reason to call her into my office.

Five minutes of conversation about a report I didn’t read.

Her voice lingers longer than it should.

-

March 16th

12:22 AM – Office (again)

I touched her hand today.

Not by accident. Not in passing.

I could feel the pulse in her wrist—fast, unsure.

She didn’t pull away.

Neither did I.

I’m crossing lines now. I know it.

I don’t want to stop.

-

April 4th

2:02 AM – Bedroom

She kissed me first.

That’s what I’ll tell myself, even if I know it’s a lie.

We were in the elevator, alone. I leaned in. Maybe too close. She looked at me like she’d already forgiven the mistake I hadn’t made yet.

I kissed her like I hadn’t wanted anything else in years.

And she kissed me back.

I’m fucked.

-

April 22nd

3:35 AM – After she fell asleep

She sleeps like she trusts me.

That should terrify me.

Instead, I’m scared of how badly I want to earn it.

-

May 11th

11:11 PM – Office

Saw her laughing with one of the interns. I hated how it made me feel.

Possessive. Petty. Animal.

I smiled when she glanced over, but I wanted to drag her away and remind her who she belongs to.

No. Not "belongs."

That’s not right. She’s not mine.

But I’m hers.

And I don’t think she even knows it.

-

May 27th

9:49 PM – Her Apartment

She made dinner. It was bad. I ate every bite.

She looked so proud.

When she leaned over to kiss me, all I could think was: I’ve gone soft.

Then she whispered she loves me.

And just like that, I broke.

-

June 5th

Midnight – Private Jet

I’m bringing her to the gala. Publicly. No more secrets.

Let them talk. Let them guess.

She’s not a scandal.

She’s the only real thing I have.

-

July 1st

10:10 PM – Lake House (weekend getaway)

She made me promise I’d rest.

No emails. No meetings.

She’s outside reading a book right now. Feet in the water. Hair wind-blown.

I’m watching her through the window.

And for the first time in a long time, I feel... free.

Maybe love isn’t a weakness.

Maybe it’s the only reason I’ve survived this long.

All the angst you write is so beautiful I’m in tears

omfg thank you sm! this means so much to me🥺

I love you pookie<33

pls make reader and milf!abby have a baby together 😭😭😭

Baby - part 1/3 (Milf!Abby x reader)

This is going to be a 3 part series! Part 2 will be released soon:)

Milf abby: Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

baby series: part 1 part 2 part 3

masterlist

Authors note: i'm back fr, i finally finished with exams and I'm here to spam with fics again

☆ Milf Abby who was happy with the life the two of you were already living but something was missing.

☆Milf Abby who always thought you were good with kids

☆ Milf Abby who never really thought about having another kid until she married you.

☆ Milf Abby who thinks about it a little too much, if she has to be honest

☆ Milf Abby who never brought up the conversation of having another baby even though you were hinting at having another kid.

"Abby isn’t this cute" you said with a pout as you handed her a onesie you bought for Mel's baby shower.

"Abby look" you pointed at Aubrey playing with one of your collogues newborn baby: "she’d be such a good big sister"

☆ Milf Abby who would only nod or smile at whatever you had to say involving babies because she was terrified.

☆ Milf Abby who was asked about when the two of you were gonna have a baby.

"So..." Nora started

"yeah?" the blonde looked at her with a raised eyebrow

"when are you and your girl gonna have a baby?"

suddenly Abby's body went cold, she could hear her heart beating out of her chest and she silently stared at Nora with wide eyes.

"We um-"

"Abby having another baby?"

They heard a voice talk from behind them. Both of the girls heads snapped into the direction of the voice and there stood Mel, still heavily pregnant.

"When you have a kid you should be able to play with them, and to run around- don’t you think you passed that stage already? Don’t you have back pain or something?"

"Mel" Nora said sternly.

"no Nora she has to hear the truth" Mel replied.

Abby met the eyes of the brunette and Mel gave her a sympathetic smile: "by the time your baby is ten you'd almost be sixty, you'd be her grandma Abby"

☆ Milf Abby who agreed with Mel.

☆ Milf Abby who avoided you for a few days because she felt like she was keeping you back in life.

"Can you shut the fuck up" she said with a frustrated sigh.

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow. You knew there was something wrong due to her distant behavior recently. You thought she was stressed, tired maybe.

“Abby I just asked if you wanted something to eat”

Abby looked at you with a blank facial expression, before she looked down to the floor, brining her head into her hands.

You walked towards her putting your hand on her shoulder “talk to me abs”

you felt her muscles tense underneath your touch “c’mon Abby you can tell me anything”

she finally looked up from her hands, and she made brief eye contact with you before she looked away once again

“I-“

“spit it out”

“I don’t think we should have a baby”

“what?”

“listen baby” she started, and she gently took your hands into hers as she saw your eyes fill with tears

“I did some thinking, and I don’t think we should have a baby because I’m happy just with you and Aubrey. Don’t you think another baby will complicate our life?”

You stared at her in shock, how could she not tell you about this earlier?

“Abby you knew. You fucking knew I wanted to have kids, and you said you wanted the same. Now you want to change your mind?”

“Can I not change my mind?”

“You have every right to, but you know how I felt about having kids. You know that I've always wanted to be a mom"

She knew that. She knew all of this.

“aren’t you already a mom to Aubrey? Are you saying my daughter isn't good enough?”

“I did not fucking say that and you know that”

“but you meant it”

“fuck you” was all you said as you got up and walked towards the room the two of you shared.

She doesn’t know why she said that.

God Abby fucking knows what she said was wrong. It's not that she doesn’t want to have kids, its just she knew Mel had a point. She would be in her sixties by the time your baby would be done with high school.

Maybe she was too old after all.

☆ Milf Abby who had to listen to you sob throughout the night.

☆ Milf Abby who tried talking to you the next morning.

Abby let out a groan as she heard Aubrey giggle. She brought her hands up to her eyes as she opened them.

The light has always been bright in the living, but jesus she didn’t know they were this fucking bright.

Abby winched as she sat up from the couch, her limbs felt like they were burning. Her eyes fell on you and Aubrey. The two of you were eating and smiling, and as she took in the scene and she knew it was fucked up of her to say what she said yesterday.

Abby got up, still feeling stiff but she made her way towards the two people who she loved the most.

Aubrey gave her a bug smile and muttered a quick "good morning mommy" before she ran to her room. She smiled at her daughters before she focused her attention towards you.

You didn't even look at her.

She felt sick to her stomach.

“I left some eggs for you” was all you said before you walked out the kitchen.

Abby really fucked up.

☆ Milf Abby who tried getting your attention all week but you ignored her.

☆ Milf Abby who tried talking to you but all you replied with was “I don’t want to talk”

☆ Milf Abby who finally had enough and she decided that she should tell you what actually happened.

☆ Milf Abby who showed up to your classroom once again.

The room was empty and you stood with your back facing away from the door. Abby quietly walked towards you.

“hi”

she watched as your body jerked “jesus Abby I told you that you should start knocking” you said out of breath.

"Sorry" she mumbled

"can we talk?" she watched you facial expression turn cold.

“sure”

“thank you”

The room was filled a awkward silence, it was tense and it felt suffocating.

“talk Abby, I have things to do”

“I'm sorry”

“is sorry all you can fucking say?”

Abby wanted to bang her head against a wall.

“I want to have a baby with you”

“aw you changed your mind? What happened? Did I force you Abby? Are you sure you want this Abby? Oh wait! I don’t think I want to be a mom anymore, since you said that I m practically going to replace Aubrey. Oops let me-"

"it was Mel"

"what did Mel do?"

And the truth came out. Abby told you everything she said, how I made her feel.

You gave her a sympathetic smile before you spoke again: "You need to stop letting people tell you you're too old Abby. You keep losing opportunities, you keep giving yup your dreams, as soon as someone says something. You need to learn that you should stop listing to what others have to say about your age"

“I know but its hard” Abby muttered.

You got up and you walked towards her and you pulled her into a tight up “I know, but we’ll work though it. I’ll help you with whatever and if you don’t want to have a baby its ok-"

"no no I want to have a baby. I want to have one with you"

a smile spread onto your face.

"can we have a baby?" Abby asked.

"if you start working on your self confidence and you stop listing to what bitches have to say about you I will then we can have a baby"

"yes ma'am, i'll do whatever you say"

"one more thing Abby"

"yeah?"

"Don't ever talk to me in that way again. What you said really hurt my feelings, and i understand you were hurting too but it didn't give you the right to talk to me in that way. I love Aubrey more than anything so don't say that again"

"I'm so sorry baby i really am, i there anything i can do to make it up to you?"

"You can start by getting me chocolate milk"

☆ Milf Abby who made it up to you by apologizing over a million times, and by doing every single thing you said.

☆ Milf Abby who immediately started looking for doctors and baby names.

☆ Milf Abby who blocked Mel because fuck her and her fucking opinions.

☆ Milf Abby who did started working on her self confidence and she immediately felt better about everything.

☆ Milf Abby who was excited to have a baby with you.

<3

My pookies (the taglist): @lia-winther @hellorai

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

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

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

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

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

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

“it’s pretty” you muttered

“you’re pretty” she said with a smile

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

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

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

Your brows furrow, at the thought.

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

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

“what the fuck Abigail”

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

“Yeah my wife and I went there”

“she’s my wife”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“dude what’s this?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Abby!”

Abby felt Aubrey pinch her arm at the gremlin comment

“why would you-“

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

sometimes it felt like you were living with children.

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

“I’m carrying the rings?!” she yelled

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

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

“please”

“Abby its bad luck”

“fuck the bad luck”

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

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

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

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

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

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

☆ Milf Abby who gets cold feet.

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

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

Someone who won’t die soon.

You needed more than Abby.

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

She should call this off.

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

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

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

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

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

Abby lifted her head to what her father said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She whispered “I’ll love you forever”

“I love you too abs, forever and always”

Can you maybe do post man Abby with Mrs.postman- Black pumas

Mrs. Postman - (abby anderson x reader)

Hi anon! this was so weird to write because where I'm from we don't have people who deliver our mail, but i hope i did you justice. I hope you enjoy:)

This story is based off the song Mrs. Postman by Black Pumas, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: post man!abby x fem!reader

requests are open again! send me your silly thoughts:)

warnings: none

Summary: in which you fell for the post lady

authors note: first abby fic that isn't hcs??? let's fucking go dude. My second post for the day, I'm blessing yall before I leave till god knows when lmao.

Every tomorrow brings sunshine in my neighborhood since you've been in it

Oh-oh, here comes Mrs. Postman

She's thicker than blue blood and a message from her spirits, high descendant

Oh-oh, it's Mrs. Postman

This commonality won't let her be fooled by low conditions

Oh-oh, says Mrs. Postman

Your love reside in me but other feathers seem to flock together

Oh-oh, Mrs. Postman

You hated this stupid fucking city.

You don't even know why you moved here in the first place. It was fucking hot. Everything was expensive. You hated this place so much.

The Jackson sun was high in the sky, as you stood at the window drinking your morning tea.

You had moved in a couple of weeks ago, and today was finally the day you would be able to get your mail.

You finally heard the knock at the door, and with excitement you ran towards it. You almost tripped but no one needs to know that.

As you opened the door, you thought you stood in front of a god.

Her blonde hair, was pulled back in a tight braid, she was staring at you with her beautiful eyes, and her smile was just fucking perfect. Her uniform sat tight against her skin, showing her body is just the right places.

Holy shit.

Postman or Postwoman? You don't even what to call her.

"Hi, I'm Abby! You must be new" she said with a bright smile.

Now you knew why everyone is Jackson was always so happy in the morning, their fucking postman was a ray of sunshine.

"Yeah I am" you said with a small smile, opening up your hand to take the package from her hands.

"Have a good day ma'am" Abby said, before she walked away.

Maybe Jackson wasn't that bad after all.

If you want it

Go and get it, you can have it Mrs. Postman

That's alright

Can we spark it? Effervescence, let the flame burn Mrs. Postman

Right on

When it rains just know that every little thing is alright

All the same, I know that everything will be right on time

as the weeks went by, you realized that Jackson wasn't such a bad place.

The people were nice, it was a safe area. The Postlady is really hot. Things were looking up.

You found yourself waking up earlier in the morning, just to make yourself look prettier. You would sweep your front porch daily, to make sure that Abby would come to a clean place. You found yourself baking cookies, and giving it to her every morning.

What was happening to you?

Even when you didn't have any mail, Abby always made a turn at your place. Her visits always made you feel special.

The days Abby didn't come, you always felt the lack of her presence. She'd become a part of you routine. She's become a part of you.

Over time you learned small facts about the blonde.

Her dad was a surgeon, she had one dog, her favorite color is blue, she works 5 days a week, and she's trying to get into college.

You could say the two of you had established a friendship.

You saw whatever you had as more than that. You guys weren't a friendship in your eyes. You felt that there was more.

Your crush on Abby grew by the second, every interaction, every smile and giggle she let out had an effect on you.

god you were down bad for your fucking Postwoman.

Today was like no other.

You woke up, took a showers and you put on brand new blue sundress you bought to hope fully catch Abby's eye.

You sat in your living room, staring at the clock, counting down the seconds of Abby's arrival.

You heard a knock at your door, and you jumped up, cleaning your throat as you walked towards the door. You took a deep breath as you opened the door and you were met with Abby's smiling face.

You saw her eyes wonder down your body as she looked at your outfit.

She thought you looked fucking beautiful.

"Hi Abby" you muttered shyly.

Your eyes met as, and you felt a spark.

"Hi" Abby smiled.

"Do I have mail?" you asked.

"Yeah a letter" Abby handed it to you.

You thanked her and the two of you stood there for a while.

"Aren't you supposed to go Abby?" You asked unsure of why she still stood there.

"Open it"

with a raised eyebrow you opened the letter.

The page was complete white, but in the middle of the page there was some words written in black ink.

Will you go on a date with me?

From your favorite postwoman

Abby <3

You looked up at her with eyes wide, and she awkwardly brought her hand up to scratch the back of her neck.

"So?" She asked unsure.

She looked terrified.

"Fuck yes" You breathed before you leaped forward bringing her in for a hug. You gave her a kiss on a cheek as you pulled away, her face was red.

You made her so fucking nervous.

"Can we go out tonight?" Abby looked at you with a hopeful smile.

"See you tonight ms postman"

Headcannons: Milf!abby anderson x reader (part 3)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

☆ Milf Abby who’s literally the sweetest girlfriend ever. A little old school, but she’s still cute.

☆ Milf Abby who buys you weekly flowers, and who packs you lunch.

☆ Milf Abby who helps you plan lessons and sometimes comes and helps you teach.

☆ Milf Abby who gets baby fever if she sees you with kids.

☆ Milf Abby who said I love you after 3 days of dating.

☆ Milf Abby who has you as her lock screen.

☆ Milf Abby who plans family dates for you and her daughter.

☆ Milf Abby whose heart clenches when she sees how much Aubrey talks about you.

☆ Milf Abby who feels like a teenager because of you.

☆ Milf Abby that’s confused when you text her slang

Abby: ill come pick you up later?

you: yeah baby, I have to go now ttyl

Abby: what is that

☆ Milf Abby who finds pop culture drama interesting because she’s never really took interest in it till you appeared.

☆ Milf Abby who discovers so much and she feels old, but you never judge or make fun of her for it.

☆ Milf Abby who knows you’re the one.

☆ Milf Abby bought you an engagement ring after 2 weeks of dating. It was a simple ring because she knew you didn’t like big and extravagant things (unless it’s her dick-)

☆ Milf Abby who wants to propose to you at a family BBQ

☆ Milf Abby who takes you to meet her family after 4 months of dating, and she knew that this was the weekend she was going to propose.

☆ Milf Abby who held your hand the entire time, when you were being introduced.

☆ Milf Abby who tried staying by your side, but then you snatched away by Aubrey and her cousins.

☆ Milf Abby who stared at you with a smile as you were playing with the kids because you were just that pretty.

☆ Milf Abby who gets cocky when her family tells her she made the right choice.

“You got yourself a pretty girl abs”

“I know”

☆ Milf Abby who was having a good night till her ex-wife showed up.

“What are you doing here?” Abby asked through gritted teeth.

“it’s a family event, can I not be here?”

“you aren’t family”

“Abby she barley sees her mother:

“did you forget we have a child together?”

☆ Milf Abby who wanted to leave but you convinced her to stay for the sake of Aubrey.

“but she’s a bitch”

Aubrey grabbed onto your hand and she ran to her mother. You watched the women’s face drop at the sight of you

“Abby please”

☆ Milf Abby who wanted to slap her ex-wife every time she gave you a dirty look.

“mom this mommy’s girlfriend! isn’t she pretty?!”

The women stared at you with hatred in her eyes. She extended her hand out to grab your other hand in a tight handshake “I’m Kimberly” then you told her your name. The two of you fell into a awkward conversation, until she brought up Abby.

“how long have you been together?” she asked

“4 months” you replied with a smile.

“isn’t it too early to be meeting the family?” she asked, and you rolled your eyes before you responding: “isn’t it too bitchy to judge what I do in my relationship?”

Kimberly stared at you with wide eyes.

☆ Milf Abby who was listening to the whole interaction and she had the biggest smile on her face. That her girl.

☆ Milf Abby who was glued by your side the entire night, but you somehow got lost.

☆ Milf Abby who saw Kimberly walk up to her and she knew this wasn’t going to end well.

“What do you want?” Abby groaned.

“Look I need to say something”

“then talk”

The women took a deep breath before she started spewing nonsense: “I think she’s too young for you! She’s childish”

“that’s your opinion, you know nothing about her”

“well I don’t like her” Kimberly went on.

“that’s ok, but she’s my girlfriend so I don’t know why its bothering you”

“I don’t want her around Aubrey”

that was Abby’s final straw.

“Listen here, you’re barley present in our daughters life. She’s been a better mother to her that you, ever were! You know shit about Aubrey”

“I do” she tried arguing.

“if you did you would’ve know she doesn’t like the nutty chocolate you brought for her”

Kimberly went quiet. Abby continued on to talk.

“You are a shit person. You were a shitty wife, and a shitty mother. My daughter doesn’t deserve that. She needs someone like her. She’s my everything and I would fucking kill for her, so I suggest you stay out of my family’s life”

“but she’s still my daughter”

“she might be but I have full custody” Abby chuckled. “And besides not everyone was made to be a mother, especially you” Kimberly stood there quietly, and she left the party soon after.

☆ Milf Abby who was relieved that she was finally gone.

☆ Milf Abby whose family knew about the proposal and they were helping her plan it.

As the party continued to go on you stood at the table, helping Abby’s aunts with making salads. It was odd, everything became more and more quiet.

You felt arms wrap around you and you knew it was her.

“Hi” you giggled

“hi” she replied. You could practically hear her smile.

“You having fun baby?” Abby asked.

“yeah”

You noticed her sudden silence before you asked: “are you ok?”

Abby took a deep breath. She was nervous. You could tell.

“Yeah, I’m just thinking”

“about?”

“I want this”

“Salad?”

“no” she chuckled. 

“A life with you”

Your heartrate increased.

“I want us to grow old together and throw family BBQ’s. I want us to have a big house, so Aubrey can bring her kids over one day. I want to spend forever waking up next to you, and I want to grow our family….”

During her speech you didn’t notice that she let go of you. You were too busy processing her words at that moment.

“Baby look at me” Abby spoke. You slowly turned around to see Abby’s family surrounding the two of you and her on her one knee, with a delicate ring in her hand.

“Will you marry me?” She asked unsure.

You looked at her with wide eyes, no words were coming out out.

“Say yes! please I can’t wait any longer” Aubrey yelled from the sidelines. You saw Abby chuckle.

You fell down onto your knees before you grabbed her face for a kiss.

“I guess that’s a yes” Abby chuckled when she pulled away.

“fuck yes”

She slipped the ring onto your finger before she got up and yelled “she said yes!” The crowd erupted in screams and cries.

☆ Milf Abby who kissed you passionately as tears flowed from both your eyes.

This was true love.

my pookie: (the tag list): @elliens4

write something abt gamer!Abby pls!!

Headcannons: gamer!abby anderson x reader

live footage of Abby, after dying in Valorant:

☆ Gamer Abby who worked two jobs at one point to be able to afford all the new games and set up.

☆ Gamer Abby who spent over 3000 dollars just to upgrade her pc.

☆ Gamer Abby who had everything in room because she wants to feel close to her games.

☆ Gamer Abby who felt embarrassed when you came over for the first time.

☆ Gamer Abby who apologizes for all the posters and stacks of games that littered her room.

“Why are you saying sorry?” you asked her, confused as you sat on her bed.

“This isn’t very sexy” she comments looking down at the floor.

“It is” you shrugged "everything you do is sexy Abs"

☆ Gamer Abby who memorizes all the lore to different games, and she tells you all about it, even though it sounds like gibberish to you.

“Wait what?”

“baby focus” Abby said with an annoyed tone.

“So Ellie is Joel’s daughter?”

“Oh my god don’t you listen?” Abby says dramatically.

“She isn’t his biological daughter babe” “oh.. so who’s Sarah then?”

All Abby could do was sigh.

☆ Gamer Abby who spends hours playing, but pauses her game when you send her a text.

☆ Gamer Abby who face times you while she’s playing, because she just wants to be with you.

☆ Gamer Abby who feels self-conscious when you are in her room when she plays.

☆ Gamer Abby who gets teased by her friends when they are all on a call.

“why are you so quiet Anderson?” she heard Mel ask through the headphones.

“Her girl is there, she doesn’t wanna scare her away” Nora says witch a chuckle.

☆ Gamer Abby who always feels like she talks too much about games, but falls in love with you all over again when you say: “its ok Abby, tell me about it”

☆ Gamer Abby who moves her gaming set up and posters into another room when you move in.

You walked into the room, the room that was once so colorful with games, was now empty. Naked.

“What the fuck Anderson?”

“I moved it all”

“yeah no shit… why would you do that?”

“this is our space now and I thought you know- we could… I don’t know decorate it together?” ☆ Gamer Abby who is wayyyyyy to good with her fingers, and she gets all shy when you mention something about it.

“What are you looking at?” Abby asked without taking her eyes off the screen you hummed before you simply answered “you”

You watched as Abby shook her head with a chuckle.

“I now see why you’re so good with your hands, these games are definitely teaching you something” you said with a wink and Abby almost pissed herself.

☆ Gamer Abby who uses cheesy game related pickup lines

“You must be as good as Yoshi with that tongue of yours” “Did you just cast aeroga on me? Because you swept me off my feet”

“You don't have to turn on a game to play with me”

“Nice pants! Mind if I loot them?” You never got the references but it always made you blush.

☆ Gamer Abby who almost cried when you gave her plushies from the games she was obsessed with at the time.

☆ Gamer Abby who tries teaching you how to play.

“C’mon baby it’s not that hard”

“Abby I keep dying”

“you’re dying because you aren’t focusing”

“Abby I don’t want to play anymore”

“please baby, for me?”

☆ Gamer Abby who almost combusts when you understood one of her references.

“What did you just say?”

“you said just look for the light that’s a the last of us reference, isn’t it?”

“Marry me” ☆ Gamer Abby who finds out you’ve been practicing her favorite games, and you learned the lore to surprise her.

☆ Gamer Abby who wakes you up at 3am because she was yelling at Nora for making her lose.

☆ Gamer Abby who begs you to play with her because she thinks it’s hot.

☆ Gamer Abby who was scared of being herself before she met you.

☆ Gamer Abby who wants to dress up as Mario and princess peach for Halloween.

☆ Gamer Abby who knew that you were the perfect girl when you let her decorate your shared room with a few posters.

☆ Gamer Abby who is really happy, being with you.

☆ Gamer Abby who could see the two of you getting old together. And she hoped when you were 73 one day, that you’d still be playing together

Headcannons: Milf!abby anderson x reader (part 2)

Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

☆ Milf Abby who tries really hard to talk to you but you’re making it so fucking difficult.

☆ Milf Abby who tries calling, texting, literally all forms of communication but you leave her on read and you don’t even pick up.

☆ Milf Abby who’s frustrated but she knows she deserves it.

☆ Milf Abby who wakes up one morning to see you sent her a text.

With shaky hands she clicked on the message. The simple text read 4 words:

“me, you this Friday?”

Abby blinked, and she sat in silence for a while.

Holy shit this was happening.

She responded with a simple “ok ill pick you up at six”.

☆ Milf Abby who jumps up from her bed and yells “I got the girl!” But soon regrets it when Aubrey walks in and tells her to shut up.

☆ Milf Abby who was on cloud nine all week.

☆ Milf Abby who tells her coworkers about the pretty girl she’s going on a date with on Friday.

☆ Milf Abby who smiles at you, when she picks up Aubrey, and her heart feels like it could explode when you give her a little wave.

☆ Milf Abby who asks Aubrey what your favorite color is because she wants to wear an outfit in that color, because she read in an article it’ll increase her chances.

“C’mon baby tell me” Abby groaned.

“Give me chocolate first”

Abby’s jaw dropped.  “Aubrey its 9pm, you know you can’t eat chocolate at this time”

“No chocolate, no color”

Abby let out a sigh as she walked out of Aubrey’s room to her secret chocolate stash. She pulled out a chocolate bar, and she gave it to the little girl. Aubrey immediately opened the bar and she took a big bite.

“ok talk”

“she likes green” Aubrey spoke with a mouth full of chocolate.

☆ Milf Abby who takes her daughter to bed, and orders a custom suit in green.

☆ Milf Abby who goes to work the next day and finds out they hired someone new.

“Who is he?” she asked while looking at Nora.

“I don’t know man”

“as long as she doesn’t break my record”

Nora rolled her eyes “of course he won’t abs, you’ve won the most cases in this whole firm”

☆ Milf Abby who tenses when she sees who was hired.

☆ Milf Abby who felt sick when he walked towards her.

“hi I’m- “

“heaters dad”

“Yeah” he chuckled “my name is actually Jason”

“I’m Abby”

The air was tense.

“what do you want dude” Abby said irritated.

“Look are you and the new teacher together?” He asked. Abby felt her eye twitch at his question.

“It’s none of your business”

☆ Milf Abby who thought her week was ruined, but when she got home her suit had arrived.

☆ Milf Abby who almost pees herself on Friday morning because today is the day.

☆ Milf Abby who takes the day off to get away from Jason and to relax.

☆ Milf Abby who spends hours on Pintrest to look for the perfect hairstyle.

☆ Milf Abby who’s ready by 3 in the afternoon.

☆ Milf Abby who asks Aubrey and her dad how she looks before she walks out.

“So how do I look?” she watched her dad smile at her.

“you look perfect Abby”

“now go get your girl!” she heard Aubrey yell.

☆ Milf Abby who made you a bracelet, and flowers out of paper.

☆ Milf Abby who sees Jason’s car outside the school.

☆ Milf Abby whose heart shatters when she hears your conversation.

“I’m going on a date with Abby” she heard your voice.

“Isn’t she too old for you? She’s in her 40s isn’t she?”

“what does age have to with anything?”

“she’s old”

yeah she was.

fuck, Abby knew too old. She didn’t even stay to listen to the conversation.

Abby ran out the school and she sobbed in her car. She should’ve know this would never work.

If only she stayed behind to hear how you defended her. If only she waited for you.

☆ Milf Abby who came home crying.

“Mommy what’s wrong- “Abby walked right past her daughter

“it’s ok let her go” she heard her dad say.

☆ Milf Abby who fell asleep crying.

☆ Milf Abby who wakes up with multiple texts from you.

“Hey where are you?”

“Abby?”

“are you ok?”

“I’m waiting for you”

“I’m home now”

“did you change your mind”

“Abby?”

With a shaky breath Abby blocked your number.

☆ Milf Abby who ignores your existence once again.

☆ Milf Abby who sees you smiling at her, but she just nods back at you.

☆ Milf Abby who tells you have no future together.

Aubrey climbed into the car, and before Abby could drive away she heard a knock on her window. It was you.

“Hey” Abby said after lowering the window.

“Hi Abby- “

“call me Mrs. Anderson” she watched as your face dropped.

You cleared your throat “I’m sorry Mrs. Anderson, I just wanted to ask what happened the other night?”

“I realized that this wasn’t going to work”

“why?”

“because you’re too young. I need someone more mature”

“Oh”

Abby could feel the sadness radiating off you.

“You should go for someone your own age”

“Ok Mrs. Anderson, I understand. Thank you for your time”

☆ Milf Abby who feels bad after her daughter calls her stupid.

☆ Milf Abby who makes a realization by the help of her daughter.

“You made my teacher sad”

“Aubrey I don’t care stop telling me- “

“you do care. I see the way you look at her” Abby sighed at her daughter’s answers.

She does care. She downloaded social media to stalk you. She stared learning internet slang for you.

“Heathers dad said that he wants to ask her on a date-”

“what?”

“I heard him say that he’s going to ask her out but then I said no because you wanted to go on a date with her”

Then it clicked.

He was there that day to cause trouble.

fuck.

He wanted to get into Abby’s head. And he did. He started working at Abby’s law firm to watch her. To figure out her moves. Her weaknesses.

He must’ve heard her and Nora talk about the age gap. She made a mistake.

☆ Milf Abby who runs to unblock your number and calls you.

☆ Milf Abby who felt like she could cry when you didn’t pick up.

☆ Milf Abby who whimpers your name when you eventually pick up the phone.

“what do you want Mrs. Anderson?”

“No look I made a mistake, please listen- “

“you can’t keep doing this….You say you like me then you ghost me- I’m sick of your shit Abby”

“look I heard Jason say that you deserve someone younger- “

“well maybe I do”

Abby went quite at that.

You spoke up again: “I need someone who’s mature, someone who can communicate but what do I know Abby I’m immature, am I not? Because apparently you know what that maturity means”

“Please” she sighed.

“Please I’m begging you” Abby begged again.

The line went quite for a while.

“Come to my class tomorrow so we can talk”

☆ Milf Abby who goes to work the next day and she goes to Jason’s office.

☆ Milf Abby who confronts him, and almost beats the shit out of him when he calls her a grandma.

☆ Milf Abby who gets into trouble but it was worth it.

☆ Milf Abby who goes to your class later that day.

She watched as you sat behind your desk. “Sit” you commanded and she did.

☆ Milf Abby who tells you the whole story.

“sorry won’t cut it Abby, you said the same thing the last time”

“Just because he said that doesn’t mean you have the right to ghost me”

“I’m sorry”

“Look just one more chance please”

“why should I trust you?”

“because I’m me”

You rolled your eyes at Abby’s response.

Abby reached out to grab your head, and your head snapped in the direction of you interlocked fingers.

“words mean nothing” you spoke.

“just trust me please and-” but before she could finish you leaned in to kiss her.

It was slow, passionate, and it was filled with so much love. Abby pulled away, only to get up and walk to side of the desk where you sat. She went on knees and she and put her hands on your waist. The two of you started at each other.

“Fuck” she breathed before you kissed her again.

☆ Milf Abby who jumps up when she heard Aubrey yell “ew!”

☆ Milf Abby who was really embarrassed.

☆ Milf Abby who turned as red as a tomato, she felt like a teenager being caught in the act.

“Why did you go on your knees?” you asked, still heavily breathing.

“it’s a way of showing submission” she shrugs.

“I’m trying to show you that you have me, despite our age difference” Abby explained.

“I’d let you do anything to me” she confessed.

☆ Milf Abby who goes home that night and smile the whole time.

☆ Milf Abby who keeps touching her lips, because yours were there.

☆ Milf Abby who apologizes to Aubrey for seeing such an act.

“It’s ok” the little girl reassured her.

“Now go get her before Heathers dad does”

☆ Milf Abby who shows up to school the next day to bring you lunch.

☆ Milf Abby who spells out the words “May i be your girlfriend?” with different fruit in the lunch box. All you did was smile at the sight.

☆ Milf Abby who was chewing her nails, waiting for your response.

“This is very romantic Anderson” you spoke. She watched as you but the lunch box on the table, you walked towards her.

“Get on your knees Abby” and she did so immediately.

“Why?” she asked while being on her knees.

“you’re too tall, I can’t kiss you when you’re standing”

The two of you shared a quick kiss.

“So is it a yes?” Abby asked, her lips inches away from yours.

“Yeah”

“Fuck yes” she breathed as she got up, picking you up and placing you on your desk. The two of you shared another kiss before you pulled away.

“Promise me something”

“What?”

“No more ghosting”

“yes ma’am”

“you’ll tell me if you feel insecure”

“yes”

“and one more thing Abby”

“what?”

“you aren’t too old for me. I like my women mature” you added as you wrapped your arms around her neck. Abby chuckled.

☆ Milf Abby who wanted to kiss you again before she heard your daughter yell “fucking finally” as she stood at the door.

“Who taught you that word?”

“grandpa did”

“of course he did”

☆ Milf Abby who was the happiest women ever, since that moment.

☆ Milf Abby who knew you were the one.

☆ Milf Abby who already goes wedding ring shopping and who plans your future together despite only dating you for 2 days at that point.  

My pookies (the tag list): @mousymaven @lia-winther @zombholic

Can we please get some milf Abby or Ellie the lesbians who like older women are in a drought

💘

Headcannons: milf!abby anderson x reader

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

☆ Milf Abby who was divorced and who had full custody of her 4-year-old daughter.

☆ Milf Abby who worked as a lawyer and got her daughter into the best schools.

☆ Milf Abby who went to a parent teacher meeting, to meet her daughters’ new teacher.

☆ Milf Abby who met you for the first time and thought you were the prettiest thing she’d ever seen.

☆ Milf Abby who stood behind everyone else because you made her shy.

☆ Milf Abby whose palms felt sweaty when you walked close to the direction where she was standing.

☆ Milf Abby whose heart rate increased when you asked the parents “any questions?” with a smile.

☆ Milf Abby who went home that night and stared at the ceiling because she just saw an angel.

☆ Milf Abby who asks her daughter about you the next morning.

“What’s she like?” Abby asked as she placed the plate of scrambled eggs in front of Aubrey.

“she’s nice” the little girl started. “she always likes my drawings, and she tells funny stories!”

A small smile appeared on Abby’s face.

Pretty and funny, huh?

“she’s pretty too” Aubrey said with her mouth full off eggs. Abby chuckled at that.

“Your right baby, she is”

☆ Milf Abby who almost shit herself when Aubrey told you that she finds you pretty.

“You did what?” Abby said frantically.

“I told my teacher that you said she was pretty”

Abby groaned, her large hand coming to rub her temples.

“Baby you aren’t supposed to tell that to people, it was a secret”

“Yeah, it was red ones”

“But Heathers dad brought her flowers, and that’s not a secret”

“what?”

“roses?”

“I think so” she spoke

☆ Milf Abby who gets jealous even though she barley knows anything about you.

☆ Milf Abby who watches Heathers dad bring you snacks almost daily when she picks up Aubrey.

☆ Milf Abby who wants to vomit every time you smile at him.

☆ Milf Abby who realizes she had to make a move.

☆ Milf Abby who was nervous because it’s been a while since she’s asked someone on a date.

☆ Milf Abby who writes you a letter and sends it with her daughter.

“My mommy sent you this” Aubrey ran to you with a white envelope. You thanked her, as you opened the letter, eyes widening at what it had to say:

“Hi, are you Tennessee because you’re the only ten I see.

I’m sorry I know that was inappropriate I didn’t know what to say.

Would you like to go on a date with me? I promise no cheesy pickup lines”

☆ Milf Abby who almost jumps out of her car when she sees you walking towards her.

☆ Milf Abby who rolls down the window and tries to act cool.

“Sup” she said, but soon cringed.

You giggled “I’d love to go on a date with you Miss Anderson”

“Call me Abby”

“Abby… I’d love to go out with you”

A grin spread onto the blondes face.

“Friday?”

“Friday”

☆ Milf Abby who fist bumps the air because she’s just that excited.

☆ Milf Abby who almost cancelled because she was so nervous.

☆ Milf Abby who asks her 4-year-old outfit advice.

“What about this?”

“No”

“Aubrey you can’t keep saying no”

“But I don’t like it”

☆ Milf Abby who kisses her daughter goodbye as she bought you a bigger bouquet of roses.

☆ Milf Abby who takes you to a fancy restaurant to impress you.

☆ Milf Abby who finds out you were 20 years younger than her.

Abby blinked a couple of times at the information.

“26?”

“yeah… do I not look my age you?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You really don’t”

☆ Milf Abby who enjoys the date more than she intended to.

☆ Milf Abby who almost combusts when you gave her a kiss on the cheek.

☆ Milf Abby who goes home that night in denial that she liked someone so young.

Age is nothing but a number, but you were years younger. What were you doing with someone like her? Why her? Why not someone your age? What happens if Abby grows so old that you become bored?

☆ Milf Abby who ghosts you for 5 months.

☆ Milf Abby who avoids looking at you when she gets her daughter from school.

☆ Milf Abby who ignores your texts because she thought you deserve someone better.

☆ Milf Abby’s daughter who gave her an awaking.

“Can you stop crying at night mommy? It makes noise”

Abby looked up from the stove.

“you hear that?”

“Yes”

A few seconds of silence passed before Aubrey spoke again. “You made my teacher sad”

“she’s sad?”

“yes and she asked me about you”

“and what did you say?”

“Nothing, you said it was a secret” Abby groaned at Aubrey’s response

“you need to stop pushing people away because you’re insecure”

Abby looked at Aubrey with wide eyes.

She was right, because Abby was so insecure she’s losing a perfect girl because she was scared. How sure was she that you would leave her? How sure was she that you were only using her? Maybe you were the one.

“Where did you hear those words?”

“from grandpa” she said with a shoulder shrug.

“He said that to Nora”

Your back was facing the door as you were writing something on the board.

“of course he did”

☆ Milf Abby who goes to your classroom the next day with flowers.

“I’m sorry” she spoke. She watched you flinched as you turned around.

“what?”

“I’m sorry for just disappearing and not saying anything”

“ok” was all you said as you turned back around to continue writing.

Abby walked towards you with long strides.

“no- no don’t say ok please- give me a chance”

she watched you sigh as you turned around:

“look Miss Anderson-“

“Abby”

“Miss Anderson” you said through gritted teeth.

“It’s ok, this should have not happened”

“Don’t say that”

“Let’s move on, I’ll pretend this never happened” you said with a fake smile on your face.

“god you’re so-“  before Abby could even finish her sentence she grabbed your face, and caught your lips in a kiss.

☆ Milf Abby who was surprised when you kissed her back.

☆ Milf Abby who whimpered when you pulled away.

“What can I do to fix this?” she spoke as she held your face.

“take me out on a date again”

a smile spread on the blondes face: “yeah I’ll do that”

☆ Milf Abby who realizes you won’t make it easy for her.

☆ Milf Abby who was willing to work for this relationship because you were worth it.

greatest female protagonist ever created, i know that’s right

I genuinely forget there are people in this world who don't like Abby.

I'm not even kidding.

When I see random hate it actually shocks me for a bit. And then I go back to remembering she's the greatest female protagonist ever created and it soothes my soul.