whatsup! 🕊🏘✨ — i have an ocxoc ( mxf, fxf, or fxf ) stalker plot with dead dove themes included. I’ll be playing the stalker or even a drug dealer that’s being stalker. it can simply be stalker x victim or stalker x drug dealer/criminal, or smthing else. anyways, i’m looking for a neighbor, a family man/woman, a drug dealer, someone successful or a loser, either someone unsuspecting and in their own little bubble or extremely paranoid and careful. i’m interested in an unassuming victim or even a twisted victim that welcomes this sort of obsessive attention that’s given to them. i have an assertive female ( switch but has a dom pref ) character that i’d love to use in a stalker plot where she’s the perpetrator. i’m willing to even use one of my male ocs for the plot as well. tho, i’ll be a lot more picky because i’ve been playing a lot of men recently but for the right partner i’m more than happy to do it. i just want interesting opposing characters against my own!
themes that will be included are stockholm syndrome, spying, coercion, dub-con, maybe somno, perhaps kidnapping, and more but it all depends on what my partner is really interested. my muse might act like someone they’re not to get your muses guard down. i want my muse to try and gaslight yours, earn their trust maybe, befriend them, babysit their dogs/cat or water their plants while your muse is gone. i want my muse infiltrating your muse’s home and setting up cameras in their room. i would love to play stalker but i also wouldn’t mind playing a drug dealer against a stalker. i wouldn’t mind another approach or suggestion if my partner wants something different done whether it becomes more intense or less intense, i’m really flexible. i just want a capable and excited partner who’s NOT a minor ( i’m 20+ ). nsfw content isn’t required but liked. i love ooc chat, edits, and playlists. like and i’ll dm you!
Pairing: Tarzan!Abby x Explorer!Reader (Tarzan AU)
(Warnings, 18+ ONLY): DubCon, 6'4 Abby, Owen, Thoughts of drowning, Mentions of death, Sexually touched while unconscious, Forced orgasm, Size difference, Manhandling, Possessive!Abby, Angst, And also Fluff -(Because Abby is a little fucking golden retriever.)
Summary: Reader and her friend Nora were offered to go exploring at Sea. Agreeing to it, she didnt think she'd end up on her way to an Island that was said to have many riches reside there. On her way there, a horrific storm spontaneously bombarded her and her friends boat. When she awakes from the aftermath of the shipwreck, she didnt think that she'd awaken to a soft giant trying to take care of her.
Word Count: 5036
You knew you shouldn't have listened to him.
Now you are suffering the fallout of his choices.
This was no ordinary storm.
You weren't able to see over the monstrous waves.
The moon tries to slip through the growing storm clouds, cascading against the powerful rain that continues to pelt your body.
The waves were nearly tipping the boat over on itself.
The wind causes aggressive whistles through the growing cold air.
But all you could hear was the horrific screams of your friends over the grumble of thunder.
With no choice but to continue being whisked away, you unwillingly drift into darkness.
You were talking and laughing with Nora who was sitting across from you, currently shoving scrambled eggs into her mouth. Her being your best-friend, you didn't want to do this alone. So when you asked her to come with you to explore the world, she beamed with exhilaration and agreed.
You were sitting in a small restaurant, having a nice breakfast before you all planned to go back out to explore the island for the rest of the day.
Suddenly, you’re shoved harshly in the shoulder. Quickly being shushed, you stopped talking, and dropped the smile on your face. You look over at Owen as your right hand comes up to grip your shoulder.
You haven't even known this guy for a full month, and don't really want to.
Manny insisted on him coming, only because Owen had begged him and mentioned there was ‘enough room on the boat for 4, anyway.’
Manny offered you to come with him during one of the many parties that was being held at the last place you had been visiting. You had been sitting next to one another in front of a growing bonfire, drinking and having fun.
Seeing his aquatic and sail ship tattoos across his body all while hearing the way he spoke about the sea for hours, gave you comfort in knowing he had no ill will in his offer.
It also helped that he had a really good sense of humor, making it easy to talk and get along with him.
Nora slowed her chewing, bringing her head up from being slumped over her plate, and darted her eyes to Owen in question. Manny brought his white cup of coffee down from his mouth and set it down lightly.
“What?” Manny said in a hushed voice. “Listen!” He whispered, widening his eyes while nodding his head to the side, referencing the occupied booth behind him.
“-well once they heard about all the money on that island, they went straight there. And no ones seen them since.” said a feminine voice.
“Lia, this isn't anything new. Once tourists come around here and hear about it, they hear money and that's all they think about.” replied a deeper voice.
“That place is littered with it, .. wouldn't you want to go out there and try?” ‘Lia’ asked as she made her utensil clink against her plate.
As she gets no answer back, she sighs. “How much even is it anyway? Does anyone even know?” You hear a sip being taken, “I don't know Lia, thousands? Maybe millions? I don't think anyone would just go out there for a few hundred.” He said, sounding irritated.
Owen brings his hands out and shakes them aggressively, widening his eyes at the 3 of you.
“Its sad, those people haven't been seen in weeks, how do they even know the money’s still out ther-” Lia was interrupted.
Owen shot up from his seat and turned around to the couple, “Hey! Uhm, I'm Owen.” he greets and gives an eager and eerie smile to them. Causing him to look like a creep hovering at their table.
The couple stopped and looked up towards him. “I don't mean to interrupt but, my friends and I-” Pointing over his shoulder to the 3 of you, forcing you all to give a short wave, “-overheard you talking about an island?” He continues to smile, waiting for them to reply.
When they just continue staring at him, he continues.
“We were wondering, how might you get there? We’re just traveling, exploring really! Nothing too serious.” He laughed out, waiting for them to join in. They don't.
“Uh..Well, I mean, I wouldn't really recommend that.” The guy, sounding as if he was wincing, replied. Owen scoffed, “Why not?” he urges.
“There've been many people that have ventured out there before, and we haven't really seen them come back around again. We have many bad storms around these parts, just like tonight.”
“I think we can handle a little storm.” Owen snorts out an obnoxious laugh and glances at you guys. “Maybe you can just draw the best way we can get there? -Oh! I have a map!” He turned around bending down under the table, bringing his bag out.
As he frantically searches through his bag, the 3 of you make eye contact with the couple behind you awkwardly. You smile at them apologetically.
“Got it!” Owen laughs out, He walks to the table and stops.
“Lemme just-” He grabs the plates on their table and clatters them together, moving them to make room. He places the map on the free space. “Do you mind?” He shoves the sharpie into the guy's face.
The storm came out of nowhere, one minute it was a bright, sunny evening, and now it seemed as if the world was being flooded.
“Get the life vests!” Someone screams through the frightful wind.
Everyone scrambles on the deck of the boat, trying to not fly off of it, straight into the disastrous waves. You grab one sliding by your feet and yank it over your head, legs being jerked back as you tighten the straps and snap it together.
“The wind sails! Close the wind sails!” Manny screamed out, while holding onto the side of the boat. Owen stammers up to the ropes, trying to pull them closed against the wind. Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, trying with all his might to get them to move.
But the wind was just too powerful, keeping them straight out. As you look over to him, your eyes waver to behind him, narrowing and then shooting open.
Your eyes connect with a catastrophic wave coming rapidly towards the boat, you let out a scream of terror. It crashes into the boat, flipping you all over, making everyone fling off and into the water aggressively.
You try swimming up to the surface of the water, but keep getting pulled down dramatically. The life vest tries doing its best at pulling you up and above the water.
You keep a hold of your breath, but start to become erratic with fear, flaily your arms trying to swim up. With a last resort push, you pop up above the water.
You open your mouth wide as your lungs thank you dramatically for the air. You keep your mouth wide trying to get as much air as you can, but you keep getting interrupted by water trying to invade it, making you choke and splutter every few seconds.
A large flash of lightning streaks through the dark and scary clouds, finishing with an earth shattering ‘BOOM’ rippling across the sky.
You blink rapidly looking in every which way screaming in terror, “Nora! Nora, where are you!”
You get swept with the waves, your body being brought closer to the boat.
As you turn to look for any sign of anyone bobbing above the water, your head aggressively bangs straight into the side of one of the many poles of the sinking boat.
Your head hangs back and your body goes limp, meanwhile the vest keeps you above the water. Your head is scorching with pain as if your brain jumped and slammed straight into your skull, causing your eyes to go blurry, forcing them to roll back into your head.
The sounds of someone shouting out was the last thing you hear before your mind drifts away along with the current.
You feel your body sway as you lay limply while your mind swims.
Your temple lay’s against warm skin, your ear close to the pitter patter of a heart beat.
Not really having enough strength to move your body, or even open your eyes, instead of trying to move, you opted to mutter a quiet “Nora?...” The grip around you tightens once hearing your voice call out, and their heart races at a quicker beat.
You feel the back of your head buzz with tenderness as your voice hums the name.
Your eyes might’ve been closed but all you saw was a blinding light. You think the light is what's causing your skin to sizzle with warmth..
As you feel yourself being carried, the light starts to dim very low. At first you were barely able to hear the pad of their feet, now you hear creaks as the feet saunter up into somewhere less bright.
You’re then lowered, being set onto something decently soft. Groaning out as you settle against whatever you were on.
Before you can wonder about anything else you feel a rough finger press over your eyelid, then drag across it, out to your hairline. “Who?.. I can't.. Think.” You mumble slowly, your head pounds with soreness. The finger stops at your words, pulling away.
You clench your brow as you feel a hand slowly start to caress your face gently, as if it’ll break beneath their fingers. They trace at your eyebrows, bringing them down your nose bridge and to your pouty lips. They linger there.
You feel them slowly drag your bottom lip down, and then let it pop back. You sense a presence come close to your face, followed by warm huffs of air cascading over your lashes. You then detect the gentle touch of hair swiping over your cheeks.
Your lips are suddenly met with a stiff kiss, unmoving as if they have no clue what they’re performing. The mouth retracts as you feel the rough touches drag down your chin, then jaw, and to the little sliver of neck that peeks out over the life vest.
You feel the hand withdraw from you yet again but you don't have time to linger on why the touch deserted, as you feel the harshful shake that goes straight to your head.
The person lets out a deep growl as they rip the life vest down the middle with their bare hands. Causing your entire body to jerk with the motion.
You feel a hand go under the back of your head, cupping it softly, lifting it. They yank the life vest from under your head. You sigh as your neck sits in a better position for resting.
The hand resumes its antics, grazing your collarbone with a feather-like touch. The fingers move as if they’re curious, exploring you. They lower to your bikini covered breast, slowly pulling it below your nipple, exposing you.
“Hey, wait..who’re-” you stop and gasp as they take it into their large hand.
They grope it, as if testing the feel of it in their palm. A thumb brushes over your nipple, causing it to react and harden.They let go as they continue trailing their hand down your chest leading to your stomach.
‘What's going on? Am I dreaming?.. This feels… too real’ Your mind is frenzied as if it was going through waves, trying to find what it needed, to fully wake up.
Rough fingers connect with your soft belly, tickling you, making you shiver. When the touch lowers even more, it stops above your light bikini bottoms as they notice the fabric is tight against you, outlining your puffy lower lips.
The fingers go to the side of them, pushing the crotch over, allowing them a view of your bare and shimmering cunt.
Your hips shift from the sudden exposure. You let out a hum as you try to straighten your mind out.
Suddenly, your slippery parts were being glided through, making you let out a soft sigh. The feeling of the caress dulls out the ache in your head.
Your bundle of nerves started being rolled beneath the pads of the fingers. Your lower back twitches against the touch.
They stop their motion as they start gliding them through you again, catching their fingertips on your drooly entrance. You feel them slowly slide 2 fingers in, you clench roughly around them from the intrusion. The broad digits stretch your walls greatly. Causing you to let out a throaty moan.
After hearing your reaction, they start moving them, the motion slightly uneven. As if they’ve never performed the act on another person.
You let out a sharp gasp as they start moving them around, as though they were studying all of your insides.
The rhythm quickly starts picking up, angling up against the roof of your cunt, hitting something devastating. Your knees feel like they’re trembling as you bring your hips to connect with the harsh slams of thrusts.
You hear your own dirty squelches fill your ears as you continue to get stuffed roughly.
Your breathing starts to become quicker as you feel the pull of euphoria in your lower tummy.
Suddenly, you were hit just right by the generously large fingers, causing you to gush all over them.
Cumming hard with a cry, you clench and twitch around the hand. You wait for the thrusts to slow and stop, only, they don't stop, they continue crashing into you. You whimper as your body shivers with intensity.
“Can’t-n-no more!” You scream, eyes flying open as you jerk away.
Sight blurred and uneven as you try adjusting your fuzzy vision.
You feel them pull out suddenly, making you wince. They crawl up your body to straddle you quickly. They plant their hands on either side of your head as they lean and hover over you, focusing on your face.
As your eyes finally start to focus, the only thing you can really see is a halo of gold, cascading above you. ‘I'm dead, I'm actually fucking dead’. You think.
The halo starts moving, and as your eyes start becoming less blurry they finally focus, and instead of meeting your ultimate demise, you realize it's someone's head.
You suddenly realize you should begin lifting your limbs and actually start to control them, you go to shove the person off of you. Your wrists are quickly snatched and slammed into the hard surface you’re laying on by the very large person above you.
You try moving your lower body as if to flip them off of you, but they dont even move an inch from the shoves you give, they just grunt. Body heavily set on top of yours like an anchor.
“No! Please!” you squeal out, trying to fight back, flailing your body and straining it against the person. “No?” You hear a confused voice grunt out.
You stop your thrashing but continue to keep your body stiff in anticipation, “What!?” you harshly asked, anxiousness wavering your voice. Your frightened glossy eyes look up at the person that was trapping you. “Ple-ase?” they repeat your words brokenly, still sounding confused.
Your eyes connect with a pair of blue eyes, their pupils blown out and wild. They look down at you with intensity and wonder. Their head turned to the side, like a curious puppy. Blonde hair hanging down around both of your faces like a curtain.
It was bright enough in, well, wherever you were. Allowing you to notice the prominent nose attached to this person littered with freckles following into a large scar on their left cheekbone. Their face was beaded with sweat from the heat, causing the cheeks to twinge with pink. Wild hairs forming the thick brows and light peach fuzz littered across their top lip.
Your face lowers, eyes following your movement as you look down at the body on yours. Small exposed breasts hang down from their toned chest. Dropping lower, you follow the dark hair starting from their belly button, trailing down to their center.
Why the fuck were they naked?
All the while you feel their eyes run over your face continuously, taking you in just as much as you were, them.
Your body shakes with adrenaline as you look side to side to where your wrists are pinned at your head by large, strong hands. Your eyes follow up their arms, also tanned and freckled, eyes easily catching on the veins popping out, due to the large muscles forcing them to the surface.
Drawing your gaze back to the person's face, you reply stiffly, “Let go please.” When they don't, and continue to look down at you in curiosity, you ask again. “Please?” You nod and say desperately as you slightly move your wrists, indicating to let go.
They blink at you. They glance slowly back and forth to your wrists as a look of confusion makes its way onto their face. Bringing their attention back to you they slowly let go and sit back on their knees.
Ok, maybe they do understand.. Just a little? There must be other people around to help you.
You rake your eyes down at their bare center, and then glance at the thick thighs currently covering yours. Although they were only kneeling, it looked like they were towering high above you with their monstrous frame. You start moving your hips up in a bucking motion, trying to get out from under them awkwardly.
You stop as you hear a deep and heavy sigh. Your eyes dart up to their face, The once wide blue eyes now lazily lidded, buff chest heaving while their belly flexes up from the contact you impose between their legs.
“Can I move?” You’re unsure if it even matters what you say anymore. You’re just hoping that they’ll catch the hint.
Bringing a hand down gently to their thigh, you shove lightly at it, nodding up to them. Catching on, they climb off of you slowly, keeping their intense gaze on you as they wearily shuffle away,
With a slight frown, they settle near you, allowing enough room for your own space.
You sit up lazily with a grunt, bringing a hand to your head while wincing. You look around, taking in your surroundings.
Miscellaneous items lay scattered around. You see random everyday objects littered here and there while also spotting some, at least it looks like, handmade belongings.
When you bring your eyes straight ahead, you see the front of the house you were sitting in had the door set propped open, holding a perfect view of the shoreline. It looked as if it was all made easily by hand out of bamboo. Amongst other things you couldn't quite decipher.
You could tell it was close to sun down while staring off outside.
Close to sun down? It was just night out.. How long have I been asleep?
I need to find someone that can actually understand me. No. First i need to figure out where the fuck i even am. Your mind races.
“Where are we?” You look at them, seeing they’re already staring back at you. As if they would miss something if they looked away. They only blink at you. “Here?” You point down, then bring your hand up and wave it while giving a confused gesture.
Although they sat in a squat hunkered down, their large body took up a lot of room. Their hair was messily in their face, bright strands covering their breasts from being hunched. Bringing a tan hand down, they tapped the ground twice “Mine.”
“Ok..” You nod. “Who are.. You?” You say gently and bring your index up and point at them. The blonde’s eyes widened while their eyebrows raised in excitement, bringing their hands up to point to themselves. “Girl.” She replies while nodding with joy.
You nod in disbelief. She really didn't understand you. When you nod, she smiles excitedly back. “Me, girl!” she grunts out again, happy that at least you understand her.
She turns to a basket of plucked flowers, reaching in and grabbing a small yellow one, She puts her palms to the floor, carefully holding the flower as she starts shuffling closer to you, she brings her free hand out to pat your chest.
“You, girl?” her head lolls to the side with naivety. You nod, “Yes i-i am” You then say your name, “Y/n” pointing to yourself.
She tries to slowly sound it out, not really getting it at first. You shake your head gently when she gets it wrong the first time. But then smile and nod when she finally says it correctly. Her eyes glaze over in joy as she laughs.
She brings the flower up to your cheek, softly dragging it across your skin in admiration. “Y/n flower.” It tickles you causing you to huff a small laugh, she then brings it to your lap. Gently setting it onto your thigh.
She liked making you smile. It felt like she needed to make you smile.
The blonde brings her hand to your wrist tugging it up to her own face to set it there. she leans into your palm and just smiles.
She brings her face closer to yours, breathing deeply in and then letting it go with a sigh.
Her hand comes up and grabs your hair in a tight fist, surprising you, causing you to let out a sharp yelp.
Her grip on your hair loosens slightly as her right hand flies up to grip your chin firmly, squishing your cheeks together. She turns your face back and forth looking for what had made you react that way.
Her face was hard, causing her eyebrows to furrow and pupils to shine. Realizing how scary she can be when she becomes serious, you try disputing the situation.
Your hand comes to wrap around her wrist that was holding your hair, “Its ok!” You said with a muffle, caused by her large hand devouring your cheeks. “Just be.. Gentle.” Your eyes soften while you bring her hand down. As she opens her mouth to say something she’s interrupted by a low grumble, coming straight from your stomach.
As your eyes cast down, you notice yourself indecent, eyes widening in alarm, you shoot your hand down to cover your breast, and pull your bikini back over your oddly sticky center.
At least the water didn't sweep my clothes away …it seems like it tried though.
Although she didn't like the loss of your touch, her eyes look down to your middle, her hand leaves your face to cover your belly, petting it, having the urge to sooth it. She stares at where her hand sits, nodding at it, thinking.
“Eat.” She says as her eyebrows widen in realization.
She lets her hands drop from you as she stands up quickly. Her towering frame looked frightening, especially from your view point from the floor. Your eyes cast slightly down, connecting with her bare toned butt, you look away quickly. She paces frantically as she tries thinking of what to get for you.
It must not be uncommon, her being exposed like this. At Least you assume so, from her not rushing to cover herself up from your wandering eyes.
She looks over the room, becoming frustrated as she doesnt see what she was hoping to.
She turns and stands in front of you, making you come eye level with her hairy womanhood.
Flaring her arms out at you, “You no go.” pausing shortly, but then continues “You stay.” finishing with a stern voice. You look up to her and nod slightly, staying put.
She starts walking backwards with her arms out towards the door, watching to see if you’re going to follow. When you don't, her mouth shuts and she nods, turning quickly she runs out, darting to the left.
You wait for what it feels like forever, watching the sun come down quicker as the time goes by. Hearing nothing but what sounds like a nice breeze shuffling through the leaves of trees outside. You start feeling the breeze as it blows through the front door of the stranger's home.
Maybe I should go look to see if anyones around. Yknow, for someone that can actually understand me. They can tell me where I am, and.. If they’ve seen my friends.
You talk to yourself, trying to come up with a plan.
The girl still isn't back. She’ll probably understand if I start heading out, she probably knows I need to go and find help. I mean.. She found me unconscious and brought me here to her home, she must’ve known I wasn't alright. You tried reasoning with yourself, not wanting to hurt the energetic giant.
You pluck the yellow gift off of your thigh, standing up and setting it down where you had sat.
I’ll come back here once I find someone, and thank the girl for saving me from, well, wherever she found me. You nod to yourself in thought, not wanting yourself to come across as ungrateful from her saving you. You tell yourself you’ll come back.
Walking to the open door, you peek your head out. You look to the right, the direction she had rushed in. Seeing no sign of her, your eyebrows crease. You look to the left, as something catches your eyes, you squint to focus.
You step out onto the handmade built deck, the tough breeze makes your hair fly in every which way. Walking out and off the bamboo flooring, you step out onto the sand, walking closer to what you were seeking.
As you got closer, you noticed large broken pieces of wood and what seemed like a torn white flag sticking up from the sand, blowing with the breeze. Your eyes fill up with dread.
This looks familiar.
You continue walking down the shore line, looking for anybody who you might be able to spot.
The burly blonde comes back shuffling her feet through the sand, holding not handfuls of bananas, but Armfuls.
‘Flower is hungry. She will hurt no more’ she thought with determination on her face. Stepping up the slight ramp to her home, she pauses in the doorway. Her eyes quickly darted all over the room looking for you, zeroing in on the yellow flower she had gifted before you.
She lets the bananas fall to the floor with a loud roar. She rushes over to the flower and picks it up, holding it close to her face staring at it. ‘Flower left. Not safe. Find her.’ She drops the little yellow sun and bolts out the door gritting her teeth into a snarl.
She frenzied her head from left to right, looking for any sign of you. She brings her eyes down and see’s footprints leading down the shore. Frowning deeply, she rushes to follow them in a quick jog. The prints stop at the water, turning to the ever growing dark jungle.
The soft giant didn't have time to set up the fires she usually had lit by now, set around her home to ward off unwanted beings. At night it usually made the jungle seem like an abyss of darkness that never really seemed to end.
When she goes to call out for you, she’s quickly beat to it as she hears a “Is anyone out there!.. Hello?.. I need help!” Her eyes pop open and her head shoots to the direction of the shouts.
‘Help. Help my Flower.’
She rushes to the growing darkness as she jumps over large vines and dodges rocks. Putting her hands out to push herself quicker against tree trunks, closer to your cries. “Hello?” The blonde stops, hearing you closer than ever. You hadn't gone too far in.
She grunts as her eyes finally settle on you. You look at her wearily, “Why did you follow me?” You said in a soft voice. She just stares at you with a deep frown. “Leave?” The blue eyed girl ignores you and shakes her head at you in question.
“I'm sorry.. I just need to find my friends." You press earnestly, “I don't remember what happened. I don't know if they could be hurt.” You try to explain but knowing from the other words you had shared earlier, you expect her to not really know what you're saying anyway, making the point feel moot.
You drop your shoulders in defeat. ‘There's no way I'm finding them tonight.’ You let out a sigh, and look up to her. “Go back?” you simply say, nodding and pointing back towards her home.
She reaches out to your wrist and grips it, but stops shortly as her gaze focuses on the air in between you both, following the light buzzing noise moving erratically in the air. You go to move back and flee, as to not disturb it, not wanting it to try and attack.
But she stops you, “Buh-Bee” She stutters out. “Yeah.. a bee.” You say, not looking at it. Rather, you keep your eyes focused on the girl before you.
She looks at you quickly before drawing her gaze away, following the bee buzzing through the air. “Uh-bee” she recited back exactly how you said it.
As you look at her, you realize that calling her “Girl” just didn't feel right. She needed a name, and as your eyes scan her face you become stumped. What would fit her?
As you start to try and think of names, all you hear are her mutters while she fixates on the insect. She continues to mutter ‘Uh-bee’ every few seconds. You feel her grip on your wrist start moving, in a soothing gesture. It seemed like she didn't even notice herself doing it.
Hmm..She was kind of like a bee.. She was soft and fuzzy, but could be dangerous when she needed to.
Maybe.. You’ll call her bee? ‘mm-mm’ You shook your head as you thought about it.
“Uh-bee?” she looked at you with innocent eyes. It clicked in your head.
Abby. You’ll call her Abby.
Helloooo, thanks for reading. I'm hoping to expand on this AU a SHIT ton. And i would love it if you guys helped me, just send me an ask if you want and we can start building this universe together. I feel like some of its a little sloppy, but i'll go back and fix stuff probably. Anyway love you!
cw : mentions of canon violence, injuries, canon doesn’t exist here, slow burn as fuck, literal bare minimum romance but like ,, you can feel it.
wc : 5.5k
a/n : i did NOT proof read this ,, i finished it at 4am and it was 11 pages. nooooo way. hope you enjoy !
The rain pelted you as you followed closely behind the boy, shielding him from sight as you pushed through the dense forest, hearing sharp whistles coming closer and closer no matter how fast you’d tried to run. It felt endless, the harsh scratches of the branches on your skin as you held the machete close- praying you didn’t end up having to use it.
“Demons!” Lev whisper-shouted, altering you to the growling that seemed to be encroaching faster than the seraphites could- their hellacious moans of plea ingrained into your memory. He tried to ready his bow, pulling an arrow from his quiver before your hand rose to stop him- hand securing around his wrist.
You shook your head, pointing ahead to the glow of fire in the distance, the area was populated solely by seraphites now- seeing as the treaty fell through. That meant even the smallest noise that could indicate human life would be used as a call sign, sending the hunters out. With a group coming in from behind you and no way to go ahead, you nodded towards the right path, that being the only one seemingly uninhabited. You loosened your grip, urging him to take hold of Yara and run.
Yara nodded swiftly, understanding your plan wordlessly. It was just like that between you two, spending so much time together growing up- despite the age difference, you could read each other like a book. “May she protect you.” She spoke in a hushed whisper, coming to take hold of Lev and practically drag him away from you. She didn’t want to leave you, but she knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer, choosing to trust you knew a way out of this.
“May she guide you.” You whispered, not loud enough for her to hear as you bolted towards the left, hearing a sharp whistle follow your movements. The goal was to make as much noise as possible, draw them as far as you could from Yara and Lev so they could find a safe place to hide out. They were the ones the elders wanted most of all, your collaboration being shaken off as rebellious youth. If you got caught, your punishment wouldn’t be half as bad as the torture that awaited them back home.
The rain picked up, soaking through your clothes as you flew blindly through the trees. You could feel the branches snagging your clothes, causing rips in the loose material before you came to a sudden stop- the whistling seemingly coming to an end as you panted. It was quiet, not even the growling of demons permeating the tense overhang of silence, causing your stomach to lurch. They knew you were here, so where were they?
You got your answer as you felt two arms wrap around your waist, pinning your arms to your side, causing your machete to fall to the damp forest floor. “We found an apostate!” A gruff voice shouted, making your ears ring, their fingers digging into your skin hard enough that you began to feel blood trickle. “No more running.”
You stifled a scream, not wanting to give them the satisfaction. You knew this was bad, worse than bad actually, feeling another set of hands come to grip your left arm- allowing the first man to settle into the flesh of your right. You’d begun to make peace with the idea of dying tonight, your suffering surely ending in a much swifter way than they’d allow Lev or Yara. It was worth it, in your eyes, to die for such a cause. “The prophet abhors blind followers of evil.” You choked out, trying to dig your heels into the ground as they drug you back towards the fire.
The man on the right snorted, almost choking on his spit as he laughed. “Don’t tell me what the prophet abhors, apostate.” He snarled, squeezing tighter as he pushed through a thick brush. “You hold no right to her words.” As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. Your ties to the prophet being cut when you chose to leave, to search for freedom elsewhere.
They pushed a thick branch out of the way, the harsh orange firelight blinding you as they came to a stop before a woman you recognized as Helah. If there was one person you’d always be able to find in a crowd, it was her. From her spindly arms to the mass of dark hair pinned to her scalp, she’d always sent a chill down your spine, now more so- her focus being on a girl struggling to keep her feet on a bucket just a tad too short, a rope tightening around her thick neck.
Her impossibly dark eyes settled on you as she turned, letting her knife fall to her side as she looked upon you in contempt. “You.” She spoke, tilting her head as she came closer. With every step she took towards you, you could slowly begin to make out the splatter of blood that burned her unnaturally pale face- making you shift uncomfortably in the men's arms, from what you could gather- these bodies were her doing. “Your mother begged us to find you, to save you from the demons.”
You winced at the mention of your mother, imagining her falling to her knees before the elders- begging them to spare the only daughter she’d ever come to bring full term. You tried to shake off the thoughts, knowing this was her game, manipulation being her weapon of choice. You couldn’t let her get the high ground, not knowing what could possibly come of her supposed ‘mercy’ as allotted by the elders. “The only demons I need saving from are you people.”
One of the men kicked your legs out from under you, making you fall forward as they finally relinquished their grip on your arms. The feeling of the moist earth under you was an almost welcome sensation if it hadn’t been for the words you’d heard slipping from the lips of the woman standing above you now.
“Clip her wings.”
A horrified scream was ripped from your throat as you tried to scramble off of the ground, motions halted by hands pushing you back down- cheek pressed roughly into the hard ground. You could feel the rocks digging into your skin as you tried to wriggle away, harsh sobs falling from your lips. As a last resort, you cast your eyes upward, coming to connect with the dangling girl.
She looked on in gargled disbelief, face turning an unhealthy shade of red as she held your gaze. What did they mean by clipping your wings? It wasn’t something she’d ever heard of in passing during the time of the treaty. Her stomach lurched, as she watched you closely, almost forgetting the fact that she was also fighting for her life. Though, she couldn’t manage to tear her gaze away, the horror in your eyes sending shivers down her spine. In those moments, it felt like time moved in slow motion, watching as the repulsive-looking man brought down a massive hammer to the joint of your elbow. The screams embedded themselves into her chest, every shrill, ear-piercing noise committed to memory.
You couldn’t breathe, the white-hot pain filling your entire body as you felt him hand off the hammer. The shock had sent your body into a primal shudder, twitching uncontrollably as you tried to conceptualize the pain- you had to get up. You had to get up now. Your working arm was held down in place, dirty nails cutting into your skin, leaving you to try to use your broken one as leverage. “Oh, god.” You whimpered, the pain shooting into your shoulder with every movement.
Suddenly, the man’s hand on your wrist went limp- the large hammer coming to land with an obnoxious thump on the ground by your head. The newfound freedom giving you the chance to pull yourself away from the other man, hand securing on the fallen hammer. As you turned yourself around, you saw the man lying with an arrow poking out from the back of his head, though your curiosity was short-lived- attention being caught by the short, struggling breaths coming from behind you.
The girl secured her legs around Helah’s throat, holding her in place as she struggled with catching small puffs of air. You stared in amazement for a moment before sense kicked back in, pushing yourself off of the ground. The pain took a backseat to the problem at hand, legs trembling under your weight as you used your remaining strength to swing the hammer to wedge into the woman's skull- seeing her instantly fall limp, the girl letting her fall to the ground as she relaxed her legs.
“Help me.” The blonde wheezed, eyes beginning to roll back into her skull, face turning a sickly shade of blue. The bucket was long gone, lost in the struggle between her and Helah, causing her to swing haphazardly on the tensed rope. The world was beginning to dot in black, pupils tiny from the lack of oxygen. She didn’t even have to grab the woman, it was a choice she made in the moment- seeing the way she delighted in the suffering of a seemingly innocent girl. Maybe it was her conscious dictating her actions, or maybe, it was a nagging voice in the back of her head- telling her that if it was her, she’d like to think you do the same thing. How she could know that was beyond her, it didn’t make sense logically, but it was enough for her.
You nodded quickly, hissing as you grabbed your broken arm in an attempt to not strain it anymore. You eased yourself onto the ground, feeling around under Helah’s body for the knife she’d been planning to use on the girl. “I’m sorry.” You huffed, stifled breaths breaking your words as you finally found the blade. You got back to your feet, wasting no time in your sawing of the thick rope. It came apart with a harsh snapping noise, sending the girl onto the ground hard.
Yara bounded out of the darkness, your lost machete in hand as she looked at the two of you frantically. “Demons, we have to go!” She rushed, motioning to the path leading left, Lev following her lead as she pushed forward. Her eyes tried to avoid your limp arm, the discoloration seeping from your joint down to your fingertips, guilt overtaking her.
You nodded, urging them to go, as you looked at the girl. “Are you okay?” It was simple, something so seemingly meaningless, but enough to convey the appreciation you felt towards her. She was the only reason you weren’t dead, feeling absolutely sure that Helah would’ve ended you before your friends could save you.
She nodded, pulling the rope from around her neck before dipping down to jerk the hammer from the woman's skull. “Can you still run?” She asked, hearing the noises of infected closing in. The last thing she wanted was to let you die, seeing as she now felt just as indebted to you as you did her.
“Yeah, yes. I think.” You grunted, pulling your lifeless arm to your chest as you gave her a curt nod. “We have to go, come on.”
The blonde eyed you for a second before giving in, giving you a small nudge forward as she took off in the direction of what she assumed were your friends. She could hear your slowed footfalls behind her, making her cut her pace to let you pass her. If anything was to catch up, she could handle them- but in your state, you’d be too easily overtaken.
It didn’t take long for the two kids to come into view, their bodies moving nimbly through the trees as they seemed to have a rendezvous spot in mind. You didn’t even consider asking about their plan, focusing solely on just making it there- the mind-numbing pain being the only source of drive you had left. You stumbled, feet getting caught up on a root that blended into the dark earth, acting just fast enough to catch yourself on a nearby tree, your arm falling limply to your side.
“I can carry you if you need.”
You shook off her offer, panting lightly before pushing forward- not even able to grab at your arm anymore. Every breath rattled your body, sending indescribable jolts of pain reverberating through your nervous system, if you’d not known any better you’d have assumed this was what dying felt like- but you’d always been classified as the dramatic type, so you tried not to dwell on it. “I can make it.” You attested, not fully believing your own words, but pushing forward nonetheless.
The forest felt endless, from blindly following Yara’s lead to dodging infected spewing from unknown sources- it was like it was trapping you here. In a constant state of suspended terror, you dragged behind, feeling the burly girl's unrelenting aura looming over you with every step. She was different from the other wolves, you’d gathered in your short time with her, her attitude about your situation border lining empathy. It was something you’d never expect from her kind, having spent most of your life running from their old-world weapons.
“Here!” Lev called behind to you, seeing your figure slowly encroaching on the two of them, he wanted to run back to help but restrained himself- seeing the shadows morph into fungus-ridden figures trailing after the pair of you, he nocked his bow in preparation.
The girl ushered you forward, turning her back to you whilst you slid through behind Yara, allowing Lev to enter before she followed behind him- making sure no infected managed to come in behind the four of you. Her hair was sticking wildly to her face, eyes blown with adrenaline as she pushed herself through the hole. “Where from here?” She gasped, catching her breath as she peered around at the three of you standing at a fenced-in gap.
Yara was inspecting your arm silently, leaving Lev to speak on her behalf. “The fence, it’s new, we have to go through there.” He explained, his bow remaining tense in his hands as he watched the girl carefully.
She nodded, coming to kneel next to the fence. Her hands latched in the lattice holes, grunting slightly as she pulled the wire away from the pole. She managed to get it loose, holding it open for the three of you to pass.
“Go ahead.” You halted Yara, pushing her gently towards the exit, not giving her the option to object. Her eyes lingered on your arm before giving a hesitant step towards the hole in the fence, giving it a once over before getting down on her hands and knees to crawl through. “Lev, you next.” He bore no hesitation, following Yara’s motions.
You bent down next to the girl, ducking your head through the hole and using your feet to push yourself out to the other side, hearing her mutter a soft ‘watch your arm’ unconsciously. You heeded her words and pulled the limb to your chest, holding it firmly in place as you found your footing again, only to be grabbed by a force strong enough to rival that of what you imagined a god could. A choked scream passed through your lips, cut off by the neckline of your shirt coming to press uncomfortably around your throat- whoever had you was using the fabric of your shirt to dangle you just above the ground.
“Goddamn it, leave her alone!” Her gruff voice rang out, finally wriggling herself free from the fencing, coming to bring the hammer down on the person's knuckles. It was enough for them to release you, letting you fall to your feet, their attention now solely on the wolf. Something she didn’t mind, her abilities lying mainly in her uncanny strength, as you’d come to notice. She took in the massive woman, eyes zeroing on the straps of an oh-so-familiar bag that hung on her back- practically straining against her massive shoulders. It lit a fire in her, her fingers tensing over the handle of the hammer- tilting her head slightly. “Is that my fucking backpack?” She shouted, quickly dodging out of the way of her massive pick, and taking a few stunned steps back.
You stumbled away from the pair, whipping around just as Lev let an arrow fly- landing in the woman's shoulder- sharpened stone burying itself in the muscle, giving the wolf a moment to strike. It was like watching feral dogs fight, strike- yelp- strike. They both had the strength to overpower normal people, but when paired together it was one immovable force meeting another.
The girl locked her hand in the strap of the backpack, jerking the woman back just as she struck- hammer embedded in her skull. It was like destroying a sand castle, her body crumbling right before you in a mass of blood and muscle, it took one hit. “Fucking hell.” She hissed, kneeling down beside the woman’s body to strip her of the backpack that was rightfully hers- not hesitating to retrieve the hammer either. “We almost there?”
Yara nodded quickly, pointing towards a building marked with a large seraphite symbol. “I-it should be right through there,” She began, glancing around nervously, anticipating the arrival of more soldiers- or worse wolves. “We have to hurry, she might not make it much further.”
The words sent a pang of guilt into your stomach, causing you to shake your head. “I’m fine, I promise. I can make it.” You assured, glancing over to the bloodied girl, not letting your eyes linger for too long. You didn’t want to be seen as a burden, even now with a lame arm, you could still keep going- you had to. It wasn’t for lack of trying, that your convincing words fell through, no it was the sight of your now blood-red fingers peeking out from your shirt sleeve that caused the three of them to share a look of concern. “Let’s go, now, before they catch up.”
The wolf stayed close behind you, eyes trained on the crimson of your fingers as she racked her brain for a possible explanation. Her father being a doctor meant nothing in the long run, leaving her with a basic knowledge of injuries, not nearly enough to account for what had happened to you. “How’s the arm?” She hummed, not wanting to bother you too much in case her presence began to cause you to recoil from her, seeing how differently you two were.
“Bearable.” You managed, doing anything to not think about the numbness that had begun to creep into your arm. You knew it wasn’t a good sign, seeing as normally when you got injuries- even bad ones, they continued to hurt. This was a new sensation, one that sent a dread-filled ball into your stomach. “Thank you, by the way.” You added, your dull eyes coming up to meet hers as you pushed a bramble push to the side so you could pass.
She chuckled, the noise lightening the mood for a moment, shaking her head in disbelief. “Don’t mention it.” She spoke quietly, coming to a stop in front of the warehouse ledge, lifting herself effortlessly onto the platform before turning to you- offering her hand. “Can I ask a question?” It was something she hadn’t been able to shake, the idea of ‘wing clipping’ being something regularly used in scar life, she wanted to gain perspective- though after she asked, she realized how bad a time this might be.
You took her help gratefully, scaling the wall with minimal effort. Once your feet were back on solid ground you nodded at her, using your good arm to pull your lame one close to your body, trying not to hit it on anything. It had gotten easier to deal with the arm, though you’d begun feeling an uncomfortable chill creeping up your spine as the minutes dragged on. “Ask away.” You prompted, watching as she took hold of the latch- pulling the heavy metal off of the ground so the three of you could slide in under the door.
“Do the scars clip wings.. a lot?” She spoke once you’d all made it under, letting the heavy door fall closed with a ridiculously loud bang. Her hands came to her pants legs, wiping off the rust that had detached from the old metal, leaving red stains on the taut cargo.
The words made you shudder unconsciously, the flashes of burning hot pain plaguing your memory. For something so recent, you could’ve sworn this ache was ancient, rattling even the strongest pieces of your will. “Seraphites, and,” You paused, shaking off the unwelcome recollections. “It’s not the go-to method of punishment if that’s what you’re asking.” It was mainly true, wing clipping being reserved only for the apostates they had no will to kill. Their goal was to maim them enough that they wouldn’t consider disobeying again, and usually, it worked. “It’s reserved for the ones the council decides to spare.”
Her brows knitted together, “Spare?” From her viewpoint, this seemed worse than death, the bones surely crushed into powder by the sheer amount of times she man brought the hammer down onto the joint. The memory made her want to crawl out of her skin, hammer suddenly feeling much heavier, the screams being the worst thing she’d ever heard in her life. “This is what they consider sparing people?” She wanted to say more but stopped herself, not understanding why she cared so much about the goings of scars.
“I’m just glad to be alive.”
She nodded, finding that a good enough reason to drop the conversation there. “Grab any supplies you find, okay?”
Lev almost choked on his own spit, looking at Yara and then at you. “We can’t touch this stuff, it’s old world.” His words hung in the air between you as you gave him a half-shrug. His mouth snapped shut before he turned on his heel, using the tip of an arrow to move stuff on the tables around- your reply wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but he didn’t dare to fight against it.
You came to stand with Yara, her hands trembling as she thumbed through different stacks of old material. “You okay?” You hummed, swallowing thickly as her glossy eyes met your own, indicating she was nowhere near it. She was such a strong girl, pushing aside her emotions for the sake of others. She was so good at it, it had become her fatal flaw.
She nodded curtly, dropping her eyes back down to the sheets of fabric, stuffing them in her pocket haphazardly. “I’m sorry, sister.” She whispered, doing everything in her power to keep her voice steady. “I went back for your machete, I... I thought I’d be able to get to you in time.” She turned on her heel, coming to face you fully, tears brimming her dark eyes. “I was wrong.”
The sight made your stomach twist into knots, free arm coming to wrap around her shoulders gently- pulling her small frame into your chest. She’d been the sister you needed through childhood, becoming the closest thing to blood you had besides your mother. It crushed you to hear her blame herself for something that should've never had to happen, the blame falling on the group you’d once thought was home. “She sees your love, she doesn’t blame you. Neither do i.” You hummed, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid letting the brimming tears escape, ignoring the faint feeling that had crept into your head as you held her.
A cough drew you from the embrace, causing you to turn in response- the movement almost knocking you off of your feet. “We found a way forward, might even be a couple places to rest.” The wolf spoke, nodding towards a door Lev stood by, seeing it barely hanging onto its hinges as rain droplets slowly raced down the corrupted frame. “Are you feeling okay?” She spoke suddenly, not letting you fit a word in before stepping forward, the back of her hand coming in contact with your forehead.
You almost took a step backward, your heart jumping into your throat at the heat of her touch. It felt like she was on fire, her skin burning into yours as she spared Yara a nervous glance. “What’s wrong, why are you so hot?” You asked, tearing away from her touch with a slight tremble in your legs. You brought your own hand up, pressing it to your forehead in the same manner she had- pulling away quickly, finding your hand coated in sweat.
“You have a fever, we need to get you out of here, now.” She pushed forward, not letting you object as she scooped you into her arms- careful to not crush your arm further. This was something she knew wasn’t a good sign, meaning you’d contracted an infection or worse.
The sudden change left your head spinning, the body heat radiating off of the girl making you uncomfortably hot as you writhed in her arms, fighting in a sense. Not against her but against her unbearable heat, though in your eyes currently- they were one and the same. “You’re so hot, wolf, I can't breathe.” You knew she wasn’t doing this out of malice, quite the opposite actually, but sense evaded you in your current state.
She pushed through the doorway, eyes locking on a trailer on the far side of the yard- her feet picking up pace as she held you firmly in place. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” She managed, on any other day she would’ve made some tasteless joke about her being hot, but she settled on this not being the time for it. She could feel your body shuddering, still trying to fight off her warmth as she practically broke down the trailer door- kicking it open so hard it left a door knob-sized hole in the panel wall.
Lev followed closely behind her, closing the door behind Yara to avoid drawing any more attention. “Is she gonna be okay?” He asked gingerly, putting his bow to rest on the dusty countertop. He knew the wolf didn’t seem like a healer, so she probably wouldn't know, but it was worth it to at least ask.
The girl gently let your body press into the moth-eaten couch, her arms sliding from beneath you with ease. “Can I?’ She asked, nodding to your arm, seeing the purple tint your fingers had taken on in the time it had taken the four of you to get out of the woods. A nod was all she needed, her hands coming to your arm.
One hand held your wrist, and the other pushed the linen of your tattered long-sleeved shirt up past your elbow. As the extent of your injury came to the light, nobody moved. The air felt stale, not even a ragged breath cutting through the anxious silence. You glanced down, the sight drawing a sharp gasp from your mouth, dark red pigmented your skin down to your fingers, which now took on a darker more purple hue. It looked like something a child would draw, devoid of all sense of tone, hung high in some disease-ridden home.
“I can set it, That might help.” The wolf spoke, eyes betraying her thoughts as she glanced up at you, trying to make it less scary. If maybe by some miracle this could work, she’d try just about anything. “Let me do that, okay?”
You didn’t even think to object, giving her a tiny nod. “Yara, the cloth.” You spoke, looking between her at the girl. “That would help, right?” You checked, having the most inept idea of healing from your time spent sneaking around the healer's hut for herbs.
Yara dug into her pockets, drawing out a handful of thick strips of cloth- immediately placing them into the hands of the girl. “I can go find more if we need more.” She rushed, watching closely as the girl turned them in her hands.
She nodded, “This is perfect, thank you.” She gave the younger girl a tight-lipped smile, kneeling beside the couch. She brought the chair leg to rest on her knee, popping the fabric on top of it, as she placed her hands at the wrist and just above the elbow. This was going to hurt, a lot, and the only way she could think to do it- was by distracting you. “What’s your name?”
“It’s-,” You began, only to be met with a harsh crack and a searing pain filling your arm. From your fingers to your shoulder, it felt like someone had sent you through initiation again, fire licking at your skin. “-My god!” You hissed in response, a choked sob escaping your trembling lips.
“I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” She shushed gently, letting your arm come to rest on the cushions as she picked the chair leg up- fitting it to your arm. “You’re gonna be okay-?” She drew out, waiting for you to finish your previous sentence
“(y/n), my n-name is (y/n).” You forced through the pain, breathing labored as you felt her secure the wood to your arm- straightening it permanently to let it heal. You had no idea if it would work, but you chose to trust her, not considering the fact that she might have just been lying for the sake of your comfort. “What’s yours?”
She smiled slightly, finishing up her work, letting her forearms come to rest on her knee. “Abby.” It was like some switch inside of her had flipped, all thoughts of her original reason for coming out here being lost in her subconscious, heart jumping with anxious beats at the idea of leaving the three of you here- but she had to go, much to her dismay.
“Abby.” You repeated sluggishly, getting a feel for it on your lips, earning a small chuckle from her. “Thank you, Abby.”
Abby stood, glancing between the two kids standing off to the side- looking visibly relieved. “I have to go, try not to make any noise. '' She warned, knowing the wolves had not cleared this area of infected yet. If they needed to be scared of anyone, it was the flesh-hungry infected that ran these woods. The ache to stay threatened her chest, forcing her to move faster. She pushed out of the door, halting on the wet steps as she turned on her heel- coming face to face with the boy she now knew as Lev.
“Listen, kid. Whatever shape she’s in, you need to be out of here by tomorrow.” Her words came out rushed, her hand digging into the door frame as she loomed over him, watching as his lips set into a thin line. She didn’t know what else to say, already conflicted enough, so she just took a step back. “Don’t let her die because you wanted to be a hero.”
╰╮later
The night passed in a blur of delusion-filled hallucinations, the pain creeping back into you when you least expected it. So when the light of morning poured through the tattered curtains, you thanked the prophet for the ability to even see another day- having thought many times you’d just die with the next flutter of your eyelids.
“Here, drink this.” Yara hummed, holding a small water bottle up beside your head- waiting for you to part your now chapped lips. Her hands shook slightly, letting the liquid drip out of the bottle slowly to avoid making you choke. She’d not slept, spending the night hovering over you just to be sure you were still breathing, making her even more cautious in her pouring.
You swallowed the water gratefully, feeling the ache in your throat dull slightly with the moisture. “Thank you, but really, try to rest before we have to leave.” You pleaded, eyes glossed over with the usual maternal worry you reserved for the siblings. “It’s gonna-,”
Your words were cut off by the door swinging open, Yara immediately reaching for Lev’s bow on the counter her hands moved faster than you could follow, nocking an arrow and letting it fly in just seconds before a familiar voice called out from behind the door. ‘It’s me!” They began, slowly coming around the corner, face flushed.
Yara let out a stressed breath, watching Lev rise from his sleep with a confused expression on his face. “On the prophet, have you heard of knocking?” She huffed, letting the bow fall back onto the counter as she crossed the room to collect Lev’s (definitely broken) arrow.
“Abby?” You spoke quietly, voice hoarse as you gazed up at her approaching form, her name still feeling foreign on your lips. “What are you doing here?”
The blonde shook her head shortly, kneeling down by the edge of the couch- leveling with you, letting her gaze rake over the sickly flush of your face. “You deserve a shot, (y/n).” She spoke, bringing a hand to rest on your uninjured one tenderly. “I’m here to give you one.”
a/n : i am so sorry if this is awful - this is my first time writing but im doing my best for all my abby sluts! and my fav nickname for abby is bibi so thats what i use in the story, just so u know!!! xoXo (n let me know if u want a part 2, mwah!)
cw: (i have no idea how these work im so sorry) use of ‘daddy’, mentions of abby’s life changing strap, nsfw, lesbians being irrecoverably horny, manhandling obvi, no real smut but allusions to it
ever since you and abby had started dating, she would find any excuse to show off her strength . it had started with small things, her hand dropping to the small of your back to guide you while you were walking or even just lifting you to sit on her lap. but after the first few times, she started noticing the way you squirmed when she moved you with such ease. abby was aware of how strong she was, god knows how long she spent working on her physique, but she never knew how much her strength got to your head.
it was a total power trip for her, seeing how easily she could lift you up or even carry you at a moments notice. she wanted, 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥, to be the protector in your relationship and her strength made her feel even more deserving of that title. of course she didn’t want to hurt you, as she had always been so gentle with you when she moved you …. but she just knew you wouldn’t mind the rough treatment.
she knew she had to test the waters to make sure it was her strength that was making you blush and not something else (although she was almost positive, she just adored seeing your small form squirming in her lap). so after you both had gotten up in the morning, she watched you intently as you walked all around the room to try and put together an outfit, just waiting for the right time to grab you. she had even worn one of her many muscle shirts in order to have her arms on full display for you. “baby, can you come here for a second?” she called out to you, your body turning to face her the moment she spoke up. you quickly nodded your head, always quick to obey any orders she had for you.
you made your way over, standing between her legs as she sat on the edge of the bed. “was i making too much noise for the morning time?” you asked softly, worried you had made too much of a fuss and she was going to have to ask you to settle down. “not at all, doll. i just wanted to talk to you” she said quickly, her arms reaching out to you before you can even blink and she lifted you as if you were as light as a feather in order to place you on her lap.
you could feel her arms flex as she lifted you to position you just how she wanted and your brain immediately became foggy. your gaze fell towards her perfectly toned arm that was now holding you securely against her. “is there something on your mind?” she asks, a knowing smirk appearing on her face as she watched your wandering eyes. you didn’t even flinch as she spoke, your eyes still fixated on her arm. “hey, angel, im speaking to you” she said firmly, realizing you had focused all your attention on her muscles that she may or may not have been flexing on purpose. your head finally snapped up, looking towards her with those big doe eyes that she couldn’t get enough of.
“oh bibi, im so sorry. i didn’t hear you, can you please say it again?” you spoke quickly, a soft pout on your lips as you tried to ignore the heat growing between your legs. she smiled at the affectionate nickname and nodded her head in response. “i was asking if there was something on your mind. the way you look at me makes me think you are thinking some things that you should be sharing with me instead of keeping them hidden” she said in a calm tone. she wasn’t playing fair - not in the slightest but she already knew that. you always wanted to please her so badly, you couldn’t lie to her face without her knowing.
your pout deepened at her words, averting your gaze down to your lap. “s’ too embarrassing” you mumbled. abby was having none of that, quickly lifting your chin up with her thumb and pointer finger to bring your focus back to her face. “look me in the eye when you talk. we have talked about this before, baby” she reprimanded, her tone being stern but gentle in order to keep you comfortable. “now, i want you to tell me what is on your mind. you know you can tell me anything”. she knew the power she held and knew just how to coax the words out of you.
you nodded your head dumbly, leaning in to her touch to get more comfortable. “been thinking about how strong you are. when you move me out of the way like i am the lightest thing you’ve ever touched. n’ when you carry me out of the bath it makes me all…” you scrunched your nose ever so slightly , not liking how embarrassing this was for you. “go on, angel” abby insisted, encouraging you to continue. “it just… it makes me all wet. you are so much bigger than me and it makes me think of all the kinds of things you could do to me. i would let you do anything to me, bibi”. you felt the slightest relief at finally being able to tell her how you felt, though it did nothing to help the ache in your cunt.
abby couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face, pulling you closer so that you were spread over her lap- face to face with her. “doesn’t that feel so good to get off your chest, baby?” she cooed, letting her hands rest on your hips. you quickly nodded your head, happy with how pleased she was with you. “but i want you to tell me what you want me to do. you know i live to please my sweet girl, so tell me what you want and i can finally give it to you”.
the way she was gazing at you with so much love took away any embarrassment you were feeling in the moment and you were finally ready to say what you had been fantasizing about. “i think about…. bout’ you fucking me while you are holding me up. i know you could cause you always carry me so easily. i want you to treat me like a doll that you can just throw around, thats what i want to be. i want you to make me bounce on your cock when im on top of you”. you were growing restless now, unconsciously rolling your hips against her lap to try and relieve yourself while you finish telling her what you needed. “to grab my hips n’ force me up n’ down over n’ over till im crying. i wanna feel you deep in my tummy, bibi. i think about you pinning me down to the bed to fuck into me and i know i wouldn’t be able to escape you at all. you are so strong and so powerful, i just want you to make me your doll”. your tone was whiney as you finished, frustration growing evident on your pouting expression.
“you have such a filthy mind, baby. i just wanted to hold my little girlfriend, thinking that you were just a sweet innocent thing when in reality, all you were thinking of was me fucking into your sopping cunt” she said, mocking you in the slightest bit simply because she couldn’t help it. her hands were pressing your hips down to allow you to get a little more friction, already feeling the warmth from your pussy on her clothed thigh. you were quick to shake your head, not wanting to seem like such a slut. “nonono, m’ sorry bibi! jus’ wanted to feel good…. you always make me feel so good” you whined out shamefully , tears clouding your vision as you tried to keep your focus on her. “nothing to be sorry for, doll” she spoke smoothly, feeling the way your hips stuttered against her at the nickname. “you just need to be manhandled, hm? need to feel my fat cock inside your cunt while i have you pressed against the wall, isn’t that right?” she hummed, the vulgar words falling from her lips like it was nothing.
you could’ve cried at how relieved you were that she understood your needs, nodding you head feverishly. “yes! only want daddy’s cock, only one for me” you said, your words slurring as you continued fucking yourself against her lap. abby couldn’t have been more pleased, finally hearing exactly what she needed to hear. “thats my sweet girl. you know daddy will give you anything you ask for” she said, always loving when you called her that. being called daddy had never turned her on before she met you but with how much you adored her strength and always relied on her to control you, she couldn’t get enough of it.
abby lifted you up without warning, pushing you back down against the bed so she could get on top of you. she had you pinned down, the weight of her body against your own making you moan in desperation. you already looked so fucked out, cheeks still red and your lips puffy from your constant pouts. abby finally provided some relief, leaning down to kiss you while making sure to keep your hands pinned to your sides. you couldn’t have been more relieved, trying to lift your head up to lean into the kiss as much as you could. abby adored the way you kissed her since you were always so messy, letting her tongue push against your own as saliva ran down your chin. you had never been with anyone before abby and she loved that, knowing she would be the only one who ever got to be with you like this. your inexperience always made abby coo in between kisses, mumbling about what a messy girl you were. she pulled away to catch her breath and watched as the saliva that connected your mouths fell onto your chest. “lets get this pretty pussy ready for my cock” she said smoothly, her hand pressing against your clothed pussy in a manner that made you squirm.
“promise you will be rough with me?” you asked softly, smiling up at her with eyes full of love. “of course, baby. i’m going to fuck you like the sweet little doll you are”
AN: I’m tiki!! this is the first fic I’ve posted to tumblr :D super self-indulgent, a bunch of different kinks. started writing this on my birthday and it beat my ass for 3 weeks. I hope you all like it!!! this was supposed to be strictly nsfw but then somehow it became fluff midway because she deserves it ;-; crazy how much love i have for the pretty girl who lives in my playstation 5
content tags (many of these are just ments or glossed over):
reader insert fic, discusses an established relationship between Abby and r | fingering (r! receiving) | cunnilingus (r! receiving) | strap-on sex (r!receiving) | strap-on blowjob, packing (all in ‘Toys’) | cum eating and swapping mentioned briefly | degradation and rough sex in ‘Risk’ and ‘Volume’ | mentions of mindbreak and dollification in ‘Dirty Secret’ | strength/helplessness kink | exercise kink/play(????) in ‘Stamina’ | praise, breeding, and primal sex kink | erotic asphyxiation (specifically headlocking) in ‘Quickie’ | public masturbation in ‘Jack Off’ | objectification (played with, in ‘Stamina’ | spit drinking, spitting and other bodily fluids in ‘Risk’ and ‘Toys’ | overstimulation in ‘Unfair’ | inner monologue alludes to fisting but it doesn’t actually happen ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ in ‘Quickie’ | assplay, anal stimulation if you blink in ‘Wild Card’ | mommy kink in ‘Volume,’ similar verbiage, different context in ‘Kink’
MEN AND MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY
word count: 5.4k (oof.)
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
abby’s aftercare is the stuff of dreams. you’ll be laying on the bed, still restless and trembling from whatever scene was prior, feeling the dent in the bed smooth out as abby tugs on her boxers and stumbles topless, hair messy, and strap probably still wet (;-;) into the bathroom. you would hear the metal of the harness clatter down to the tile floor before she brings back a couple of damp, warm towels to wipe you down with. she’d massage your back and thighs and ass, making sure to work out all of the tension and soothe any aches, occasionally rubbing lotion on your skin and healing cream over any scratch marks she left behind, soothing any bruises she left behind by rubbing gentle circles over them with her knuckles and icing them if need be. kissing and sucking on any exposed skin she can get to, smoothing down your hair, and cleaning out your tears with a cloth. if it was any more intense play like degradation or humiliation, she would reassure you, looking you into your eyes, kissing you, and rubbing little lines into your cheek with the pads of her thick thumbs, telling you that no matter what, you’re her forever choice, that she loves you more than anything on this earth.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
abby spends a lot of time in the gym sculpting her perfect body, so naturally, her favourite body parts are her thighs and biceps. she’s extremely cocky about her physique, how it draws stares, elicits whispers, and wets panties. lords it over her partner and has a major strength/helplessness kink, pinning you down and watching how the muscles in your arms pulsate and flex but barely make a move. It’s mind-blowing how she can flip you over, legs in the air, back resting over one shoulder with a heavy palm over your tummy, and hammer into you with two thick, calloused fingers until your release is weeping down her wrists and forming a steady drip onto her chest. revels in how your might is only a fraction of hers. adores body worship, giving and receiving; the sensation of her partner running their tongue over the veins and scars on her body is enough to drive her insane with lust. abby is obsessed with her lover’s body, and if you have any insecurities, they’ll be constantly met with kisses, rubs, hickies, and bite marks. her favourite part of your body is your stomach; rubbing it when you're sick, using it as a pillow when you’re cuddling on the bed and watching an old movie, or using it for grip when she’s hitting it from the b-.
nonsexually, she thinks that her nose is the best feature on her face, the easiest way to steal a rare giggle or smile from her is to give it a kiss, and she always rubs it against yours before you both fall asleep at night.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Abby doesn’t orgasm particularly fast; she needs a lot more love and attention to cum well and cum hard, so you have to take your time with her; gets really soft and emotional with how patient and gentle you are with her body. gets primarily visual arousal, and when she gets riled up, it's like a water fountain, with super wet stained panties, her lips all pretty and glistening, literally talking to you with squelches and squishy smacking noises ringing out of her juicy cunny. naturally, she gets super shy and red-faced about this. squirt drinker with no regrets, really into the idea of cum swapping, taking it upon herself to make out with you after eating your pussy.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
abby’s dirty secret is that she has a huge dependence kink. she fantasizes about you to being happily stupid, mindbroken, eating out of her palm as she pampers you, creating her own personal plaything and dolly. being able to take what she wants when she wants it, or dressing you up how she wants to see you and having you wear it out, no matter how revealing or embarrassing the outfit is. wants you to see her as your saviour, taking her fingers, or her tongue, or her cock easily, never thinking big girl thoughts, never thinking period because it makes your head hurt, and when your head hurts, you get sad :((. feeding you, clothing you, bathing you, keeping you sheltered and happy with your simple needs in your simple, silly little head. abby is a natural protector and provider, so she does all of these things automatically anyways, but the added arousal of you needing her, of allowing her to own you in every way, being worshipped by you, and being your only safe space adds a level of eroticism that she’s shy to admit.
of course, you would always be content, always joyful to make your owner smile and feel good! happily offering up your holes or going in between her thighs like a good dolly should, because you’re grateful to her. she provides everything else, so why not?
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
abby is not thoroughly experienced with long-term dynamics, she’s had a decent amount of casual sex, but this is a rare foray into actual *romance.* she’s ambitious and has tried different things, but she needs a push sometimes to be more vocal with communicating her sexual needs or telling you what she wants to be done to her in the bedroom. over time and with comfort and trust, she'll become more comfortable with setting boundaries, introducing kinks and other types of play, but she starts shy and closed off. on a purely physical side, became very attentive and skilled over a short amount of time, and is willing to try pretty much anything that isn’t a hard limit.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
abby is obsessed with any position she can show off her physical capabilities in while she’s fucking you. hoisting your legs over your head and pinning them to the bed in mating press while she slams to the hilt like a restless madwoman, each thrust grinding into that rough, almond-shaped sore deep in your wetness that sends shutdown instructions to your brain? check. across a desk, table, countertop, whatever, holding you in a mock-wheelbarrow position, one leg crooked through her arm while the other struggles for balance against your weight and the pattered bump of her fucking in and out of you as your hands scramble the table, fighting for a grip? check. using her superior planking skills to bear all of her weight onto you while she sloughs her cock in and out of you while you lay on your stomach, helpless but to take it, strong arms wrapped around your head as a hand plays in the hair at the crown of your skull? check.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
tries to portray a serious stoic dom during scenes, but sometimes she’ll fuck up a sexy line she’s been brainstorming and you’ll hear her try, (and fail) to stifle a snort and giggle. fights herself not to crack jokes at some of the silly shit the two of you say when you’re peaking, or your varying o-faces. during vanilla sex and when she’s not trying to put on a persona, abby can be very goofy in the bedroom.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
expect tufts of shiny, curly dirty blonde hair around the perimeter of her pussy. it might trail down her thighs, depending on how grown it is, and blends into a soft happy trail going up her stomach to her belly button. if it gets too tangly or hot outside, she might trim it a bit with scissors, but other than that, abby doesn’t really care or think about ‘keeping up’ with her pubic hair. word flies through the stadium that hairy pussy is her weakness, so if you keep yours bushier, don’t be surprised if abby has to compose herself before she digs in.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
emotional intimacy is crucial to her, and constantly being in a space where just for survival she has to compartmentalise her humanity wears down on her mentally. she’s confused when she wakes up in the morning after your first time together, and you’re cuddled into the space between her shoulder and her underarm; sunlight dappling your face as it leaks in through the holes in the privacy shield against the window. after you promised one another that there would be no feelings, no strings attached, just the two of you passing the time and having fun, she doesn’t wake up alone.
sometimes, you’re so sweet to her that she has to fight back tears, which she promptly plays off. you run the edge of your nails up and down her scalp while she’s still bathing in the afterglow of an orgasm, and she feels free. abby loves when you give her pet names, big girl, baby, goldie, prince charming, but when she slides her flat palms under your shirt, rubbing up and down your torso, and you breathe out just ‘abs,’ that's when she knows she’s found her way home.
in her eyes, there is no god, but she understands worship when she fucks into you slowly, gently, opening you up bit by bit, her whispers almost inaudible in the crook of your neck as she cradles you in her hands like she’s trying to capture a moment in time; she understood what it meant to be sanctified when you kiss for a long time, hands exploring one another, all of her hard on all of your soft, and don’t end up fucking. for years she’s felt like a tool for other people to use, so it’s hard for her to verbalise her needs in fear of being shut down, but somehow, you just… know. she lets her guard down for you, gets too pliant and lazy and comfortable in a way that she’s still learning to be okay with. she’s still working on emotional availability and being open with herself and others, but you remind her that she exists, and abby is forever grateful for that.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
abby isn’t super chronically horny, but will definitely turn to her hand if it’s been an extended patrol run where she has to be away from you for multiple nights at a time. she thanks her lucky stars the first time she opens her pack while camping out with her team at Eight and finds naughty polaroids you snuck in her bag. she finds it easy to treat her insomnia on those nights by shoving her fingers deep into her pussy and curling against her swollen g-spot, while her thumb flicks against the mass of her clit, sending shockwaves that spasm her toes and travel up her spine to the top of her head.
she has to use the flat of her palm against her mouth to stifle adorable, high pitched moans as her hips snap wildly, chasing an orgasm that rips through her body, leaving her panting heavily and leaking the contents of her fucked-out hole down her ass. she’s woken you up before with how loud and intense her sounds can be, so she hopes she can keep quiet well enough to not wake her squadmates stirring in their sleep.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
abby is heavily turned on by praise; tell her that she’s fucking you so good, that she’s hitting that spot just right, that she’s so pretty and strong and takes care of you just how you need it, and you’ll drive her crazy with love and lust. despite the fact that she reasonably can’t, abby always gets a kick out of you begging her to cum inside of you, to give you a baby, which she happily obliges, pressing deep into you with your feet to your ears, taking advantage of how much bigger and stronger she is, how tiny and pathetic and weak you are when you struggle, licking tears of ecstasy from your eyes and growling, “you want me to make you into a mommy, huh? –to blow my fuckin’ load deep in you?”
loves primal sex, fucking you on your tummy, against your bedroom door, in a headlock, over the table… enough said, just hunting you like prey and using all of her physical dominance to control your body like an animal, wrenching orgasm after orgasm out of your body even when you’re begging and pleading that it’s too much. she wants to dumb you out, ruin your mind and make you think only of her, living, breathing, existing only off of how good she makes you feel.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
abby is on whatever you’re on, honestly. she’s more careful at the stadium or the FOB, not wanting to do anything that jeopardises your reputations or her cushy position at isaac’s right hand. okay with weighing risks at home base, but she’s too paranoid and focused on keeping you safe in a dangerous world to do anything when the two of you are outside the fence. her baby isn’t a soldier, so you might be more idealistic and naive about what lies outside of the walls. it’s hard for her to let her guard down when you’re too sweet, too optimistic, too soft, and there are a million terrible, horrible ways she could lose you lurking around every corner. the most you’ll get while on patrol is a quick make-out session, a couple of playful slaps to your ass or a hand on your waist pulling you from here to there, and at *most* a little bit of bump and grind in a deadbolted room. if she can guarantee your safety and comfort, she’ll oblige. but she’s not hard to convince, and she can’t deny your puppy eyes when you ask for a late-night quickie in the community showers. but all in all, she prefers her bedroom, where the two of you can be as loud as you want, where she can make the bed shake and rattle and hear you whine and moan and cry as much as she wants.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
loses her mind over tension. sexual tension, romantic tension, when you two are so pissed at each other that you could tear the other apart with bare hands. firm believer that the make-up sex is the best part of a fight. heated arguments turn into rough, primal fucking to fix both of your attitudes. the two of you stealing heated glances across the cafeteria while you work the consignment desk turns into the two of you huddled in a utility closet, abby’s cheeks warming the space between your breasts, raking a finger through your folds painfully slow. when you see her after a long rotation in her militia gear, bloody, covered in dirt and whatever else but still whole and still yours, your soldier, your protector– it’s like the two of you go into fucking heat, romping like bunnies for hours while you reward her for a job well done, letting her burn off all of that pent up adrenaline and jumpiness from the day.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
she’s really anxious about hard impact. she’s painfully aware of how much stronger she is than the average woman, and she’ll never get anywhere more physical than a firm slap on your ass or pussy, or little slaps to your cheek to redirect you during play. she’s terrified of hurting you, and she’ll never go farther than that, even if you really want her to.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
abby’s a head monster. can eat you out for HOURS to the point of overstimulation. gripping and slapping your ass, squishing your pussylips between two fingers, relishing in the way that your gush leaks from the seams, wrenching your thighs apart so she can have easy access to fuck you out with her tongue. she’s a bit impartial to receiving when you first get together. she considers herself a service top; she gets off watching you get off, and great head is infrequent at the stadium. that all changed the first time you offered, tongue plying down into her musky heat, savouring the salty-sweetness of her warmth. from there, she was lost, fucking your mouth and chasing her own pleasure. the only thing breaking her out of her haze was the feeling of you lightly slapping her inner thigh, running out of breath from the heavy palm tangled in your hair holding you tight to her cunt. she apologised profusely afterward that she was too blissed out, that she’ll be more mindful next time. you two still laugh about how the head was so good she tried to kill you; poor baby doesn’t know her own strength :(
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Most times, if she's lethargic and sleepy from a long shift she’ll let you take complete control, riding her until your orgasm and then falling asleep on her tummy. Other times like days off, she's in full control; fucking you like she hates you in the prone position as she pushes you down with her weight, or laying in bed and holding your leg up in the air effortlessly as she fucks you slow and romantic from the side.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
abby desires you in every way. it doesn’t really matter to her, as long as she can get her hands on you. she loves quickies for their tense, ’try not to get caught’ vibe and the challenge of seeing how fast she can ruin you with just her fingers and tongue, but in reality, she’s not very good at them. she’s fucked you ten minutes before she had to roll out for patrol, just because she was pent up from last night and you looked soo fucking irresistible. fucking you fast and rough with her arm around your throat, doling out breath as she saw fit, your eyes rolling back as you got brought to orgasm and then taken back to the starting line over and over. it carried over so late that they had a rookie come to her door and knock looking for her. needless to say that rookie got chewed out and taken off her next patrol for insubordination.
but I think she relishes getting to be slow with you. everything in her life is so fast, so twitchy, always on edge, so she really values getting to lay down in bed with you and take you down piece by piece. spreading open your lips and working you open finger by finger until you’re all swollen down there and leaking over her palm, pussy so cute and red and puffy and just *begging* for her thumb to slide in too. introducing the strap to your well-used, well-warmed-up cunt, and analysing every muscle in your face as you keen at the insertion. she’ll rub your clit achingly slow, listening as you babble for more, to stop teasing, to fuck you the way that only she knows, and marvels at how your hard clit stands at attention and bounces around her fingertips. when she’s done, abby wants it to be hours after, your moans still stuck to the ceiling, pussy clenching and unclenching, wetting the sheets as you’re left a defiled slut, but most importantly, hers and hers only.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
abby anderson is good for being adventurous in bed, but she’s only really comfortable with simple risks; erotic asphyxiation, rope bondage, spanking. one night, you asked her if she could bring her service pistol into the bedroom –unloaded, disassembled and reassembled, of course– and it was a firm ‘no.’ but she still thinks about it sometimes, not gonna lie. she never wants to put you in a place where recklessness can get one, or both of you seriously injured or worse.
she’s not really into the whole public sex thing, but what she didn’t know, however, was that she was getting into a relationship with a crazy fucking daredevil. you’re practically owned by trying to convince her to fuck in risky, dangerous places.
"babe, why don’t i give you some head? you cleared out this scar camp sooo good–!" "no."
":(( let's scissor in this abandoned tunnel, then!" "stop. we gotta sweep the area for infected."
"are you sure you don’t want some pussy off the side of this ferris wh–" "what the fuck did i say?"
under normal circumstances, abby wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to punish you for being bratty, but right now she’s trying to keep her lunch inside, thankyouverymuch!
sidebar but sometimes she’ll just snap after all of your failed attempts at seducing her, pushing you into the dirt wherever you are, and just… starts savagely hard domming you, sheathing her strap into your cunt with her hand over your mouth and the other fisted in your hair, pulling by the roots, wedging your mouth open and making you swallow thick gobs of her spit.
“this what you wanted, right?” yanking your head up to meet her face, eyes burning with rage. “and you better be fuckin’ quiet. goddamn liability.” she sneers into your ear, bottoming out into you over and over again and battering your cervix and tender inner walls, the pleasure and degradation making fat tears run down your cheeks. fortunately (for her, at least,) she doesn’t have any more problems with disobedience for the rest of the journey back to the FOB.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
dating a gym rat wasn’t your most well-thought-out idea, as she has so much more stamina than you know what to do with. content with fucking you until her muscles burn and you’re begging her that it’s too much, abby treats you like human exercise equipment. when she really needs long-term stress relief, she whispers in your ear, “lay down baby, you’re gonna be my workout buddy, yeah? g’na be my good girl and help me get bigger and stronger?”
she makes you count out how many strokes she gives you, holding you up and bouncing you on her fat dick with nothing else but the strength of her bulging, hard-working muscles supporting every pound of your weight, muttering something to herself about how –this is better than getting on the bench, anyways. you’re surprised when you see her looking over her naked form in the mirror after a long “personal training” session, and she has an actual muscle pump.
after what feels like hours, you’re trying to catch your breath, looking and feeling a fucked out mess, when abby runs her hands back over your ass, kneading and gently ghosting over your ruined pussy with a finger. “got another set in you, i know you do.” and you barely have enough time to get back into position before your eyes are rolling back and she’s ripping a moan out of you, in plank position with her hands on either side of your head as she slides her cock head into your messy, torn-up twat.
...it’s going to be a long session.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
abby’s prized possession is a glittery blue strap-on, eight-and-a-half inches of pure problem, sourced from the ruins of a dilapidated strip mall the two of you stumbled across on patrol. she was a bit impartial to the idea, but figured that it would ease some of the stress off her achy wrists. quickly became hooked, wanting to use it every time you two fucked, and any chance she could crop up, nestling into you while you stood at the sink, hands in the dishes, her fingers getting lost under your bra, squishing a nipple as she sunk deeper inside. she loved how she could see you get more and more fucked out than you ever had off just her tongue alone, could grit her teeth as leather and rough fabric bit into her clit, could marvel in the mirror at the bulge it left when she stuffed it into her briefs before heading out for the day, straining against the grey cotton, altering the tempo of her walk, forcing her natural manspread just a little bit wider. could get a *great* core workout from pounding into your abused holes for hours.
abby is obsessed with strap sucking as foreplay, especially if you fix up those pretty, puffed-up lips with gloss or lipstick so that she can watch as sloppy rings form around the silicone. loves watching you make yourself messy with spit running down your chin as you mouth her strap through her cotton boxers. (loves SLOPPY top, like really throat it, gag, hit the back of your throat choking it down, slobber coating your fingers in messy globs. wants to see tears and snot and spit dribbling out of you from loving her cock the way only you know how.)
one night, you finally give her the green light to act out one of her biggest fantasies, letting her fuck your throat nice and deep, making you gag and drool every time she bottoms out, your domineering girlfriend reaching a hand to rub your clenching throat, whispering a mixture of sweet nothings and abject depravity that sends shockwaves to your clit and makes you ruin your panties.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
abby doesn’t consider herself a sadist but lets it be known that there’s no such thing as a free lunch. knows just when to switch off her puppy-dog girlfriend mode that just wants to make you feel good and turn on her wolf callousness, the cruelty that relishes torturing you. will let you be a brat and then edge you for days as punishment, watching you cry as her finger brushes over your exploited clitty, helpless but to let her go knuckle deep in your little hole and thrashing as she fucks you ever so slowly, savouring your pleas to have mercy. not super into the public sex thing, but will have you sit on her lap or her thigh in the cafeteria or in the common area at the stadium, grinding into your pussy and pretending like nothing is happening while you stifle your moans and your mind goes blank.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Abby is possessive DOWN and, therefore, loud as fuck when you two are at each other. tried to hold back her moans when y’all had first got together, now she’s an animal in the bedroom, groaning and panting in your ear turning into growls and near-inhuman whines and moans. a sucker for call-and-response, and will tease you over and over again until you say, ‘it’s your pussy, this is your pussy,’ in the way she likes it. wants people to walk past her room and know what’s going on, wants to claim you even when you’re not together, wants to make it known that you’re strictly off limits. her mouth gets filthier and more degrading when she’s far gone, and it’s not unlikely for her to growl out that you’re a bitch or a whore, and make you repeat it at the top of your lungs.
when she’s bottoming, it’s a whole different story, keening and moaning into your touch, stifling her whines by biting her lip, a habit that you hate. has pretty, subby moans that only get louder the closer she gets to orgasm. It's enough to ring in your ears and shake the wall; the sounds of her begging and crying can definitely be heard in the hallways and outside on the green, but when she’s close, chasing her peak and pleading to be let go, she doesn’t give a fuck. It’s obvious what it is, what’s going on, that it’s abby begging, “mommy– fuck, please let me get off please lemme fuckin’ cum, ineeditineeditireallyneedit.” it’s the sound that can be heard around the world, but she’s never been approached about it, and at this point she really dares someone to try.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
has a habit of slamming the headboard with her palm when she’s filling you rough and deep with her strap. she’d never turn her pent-up aggression on you, but it fires you up knowing that she’s on the verge of losing it. it makes you crazy, seeing her in her most primal form, bottled-up stress and anger spilling out of her, using your pussy the way she wants, how she thinks you deserve it. also a firm believer in sticking her thumb in your asshole while fucking you from behind.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
five feet and eleven inches of absolutely sculpted muscle. every single part of her looks custom made, every freckle painted on by hand, each scar webbing her skin a reminder of every time she made it back home. unshaven everywhere, her tummy and her legs and her underarms covered in dense, velvety swaths of hair, making her cuddly and soft like a pillow. the doughy fat of her small breasts pokes out over her impressive pectorals; the divot of her chest is covered in a heavy swath of freckles. deep pink, medium-sized nipples, slightly puffy and heavily sensitive. enjoys nipple play and breast stimulation as foreplay; likes having her breasts sucked on during sex. straight hips and thick thighs, deep scar on her left thigh from a raider ambush. has an outie pussy with fat outer lips, inner labia is dark pink and protrudes; the first thing to engorge when aroused. larger than average clit with high sensitivity. less sensitive to penetration, so she usually needs a lot of foreplay or dual stimulation to have a penetrative orgasm. curly blonde pubic hair around the perimeter of her vagina. firm ass, all muscle. brown splotch birthmark on her left asscheek. has an asshole, you know.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
abby prides herself on willpower and self-control, but when it comes to you, she burns hot. she wants her hands, tongue, fingers, everything on you or in you or grabbing anything she can touch. she had secret trysts, an assortment of sneaky links and fuckbuddies to scratch that itch deep inside, but she was c o n t r o l l e d by how much she desired you, how she fucks you like she needs you or else she’ll fucking die.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
such a cuddlebug. after it’s all said and done, expect abby to use the superior force of her body to roll you on top of her, lips full of praise and sweet kisses, and run hands through your hair and down your back until you fall asleep. watches you for a little while, taking in every peaceful, sweet feature on your face until that familiar warm pressure coats her skull and the pull of gravity plays against her eyes. she always goes to bed last, dutiful in making sure you're content, sated and happy, but on days where she doesn’t have to work she’s the last to wake up, a lump forming in her throat when you greet her with breakfast and coffee from the cafeteria, she laughs it off as soreness from sleeping under an open window.
“Is it true?” Abby asks, breathless. The door behind her shuts as if a bolt of lightning struck it twice. Your body jolts from the impact.
You notice a splatter of mud on the entryway carpet, and your eyes follow the trail to her boots. Did she kick the door closed?
“Y/N,” Abby says, frustration at the edge of her voice. “What I’m hearing—is it true?”
When she fixes her gaze on you, everything beneath your skin turns to ice. Your throat becomes tight, your mouth as dry as twine. You swallow hard against her unwavering stare.
“What are they saying?” you stammer.
“Oh, come on,” she huffs. “Are you really pulling this act with me?”
You reach for the strings of your sweatpants, rolling the frayed plastic tips between your fingers. This scenario has played out inside your mind a thousand times. You’ve wanted this iron weight off your chest for so long—needed relief from the pressure of holding it.
As you struggle to find your words, you look down at your socked feet.
“You cannot be serious,” Abby says. “Three goddamn years, and I had to find out from Mel, of all people? Why, Y/N? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Abby has never raised her voice to you. Suddenly, you can’t remember her sounding any other way.
They accustomed you to the boom of her military commands out in the field before a supply run. You’ve memorized the lilting whip-crack of her laughter in a crowd. Her abruptness and her playfulness. The way she scares new recruits right out of their body armor, only to turn around and giggle into her sleeve. She shares these stories with you each week, long after the stadium has dimmed the lights and moved its citizens into curfew — so careful not to wake the very people she busts her ass to protect each day. It’s been a privilege bearing witness to it. A trusted friend you cherish more than you understand how to express.
“Say something.”
It’s an order. Abby is resolute in her cause, and you will bend to her will. You feel it festering in your core. Wasplike butterflies stirring up inside you and threatening to expose your deepest truths.
You suck in a breath as her tight expression furrows into a deep scowl. “It didn’t seem important,” you say. Your words sound meager and empty to your own ears. You watch her wince, and you know it sounds the same to her. You scramble for an explanation, anything to remove the hurt etched on her face. “There was Owen, y’know? For a long time. And then there was everything else. It never felt like the right moment to bring something like this up.”
“Something like this,” she says, and her grief hits you straight in the gut.
In rare form you witness her insecurities surface and you’re reminded how oblivious she is to her attributes. This woman standing before you, shoulders slumped from the stress she carries, doesn’t recognize the depth of her significance. A million burdensome responsibilities hoisted on her back, dozens of lives in the balance. The sun has risen with her since you met, and you’re desperate for her to hear it.
Abby Anderson is so many things to so many people.
She’s so many things for you.
“I don’t want to lose you,” you say as your constricted throat transforms into a jagged lump. “I didn’t want things to change—for you to treat me differently. So, I figured it would be better this way. Less complicated or something, I don’t know.”
You no longer recognize her as she looms in front of you like a hungry shadow. “Easier, you mean. It would be easier for you to hide this shit from me.”
“Trust me, Abby, it has not been easy, okay? Far from it. You do not know how excruciating it’s been.”
She’s standing close now, so close that the heat from her body becomes radiation, poisoning you against your better judgment. You hear her swallow heavy against the silence of the room. Another icy chill pours over you, prickles the surface of your skin. Your heart thunders between your rib cage and you wonder for a split second if she can hear it. If she can feel it through her angry, muddy boots.
“Please tell me,” she says, twisting and massaging her hands to self sooth. You mirror her actions. “I want to hear it from you.”
“What am I supposed to say? You already know everything. Cats out of the bag.”
“We gotta talk about this. I’m not leaving until we do.”
The shift in her tone catches your attention and you glance up at her. You gnaw your lower lip, trying like hell to stop fidgeting. She’s a brick wall, refusing to budge. Your instinct is to run, and she’s aware. Her stance widens beneath her broad shoulders.
“There’s nowhere to run, Y/N. You might as well cough it up. We can’t ignore this.”
You were alone for so long. It felt like decades, but it couldn’t have been over eight or nine months when you really think about it. Still, a lot can happen inside of a year. Abby found you without more than a dented can of vegetable soup and a rust-bitten pocketknife—rescued you from famine and the horrors of the crumbling earth. Carried you in her arms and watched you like a hawk in the backseat of the Humvee. At first, you weren’t sure if your feelings were reliable. Maybe they were an amalgamation of her saving your life and offering you the first mouthful of clean water you’d seen in days. But now, years later when you look into her eyes, you feel it all over.
“Yes, okay? It’s true. But I told her in confidence,” you confess, taking a step backward only to discover the unforgiving edge of your dining table. “God, I want to punch Mel in the face. Give her an actual piece of my mind.”
“Hot. Don’t tell her I said that,” Abby smirks, reaching around you for a chair. Your breath catches.
The metal legs scrape the floor as she straddles the seat. The sharp clatter snaps you back to reality.
“I won’t. Then again, maybe it’s my turn to gossip all over town.”
You’re tripping over yourself internally and Abby has the good grace to handle your emotions with care. Her forearms ripple as she folds them over the chair back, resting her chin atop long fatigued muscles. A burn creeps across the bridge of your nose and into your cheeks as she catches you staring.
She giggles, bashful, and it takes everything in you not to do the same.
“Stop,” you lament, your hands flying up to shield your face. “This is the worst. I’m the worst.”
“You are not,” Abby says as she tucks a tuft of blonde hair behind her ear, shaken loose from her braid. She looks up at you through her lashes and a wash of pink spills across her sun kissed cheeks. “I think you’re beautiful.”
A deafening knock at the door startles you both, but only Abby has the wherewithal to groan audibly at the interruption. You’re frozen in place as she gets up to answer, reluctance written all over her posture. You use the opportunity to sneak off to the bathroom to splash cold water on your skin to temper the flames. In all the daydreams your mind painted, being outed by the stadium doctor followed closely by Abby storming into your apartment to corner you like a drill sergeant, hadn’t quite made it to the top of the pile. Word travels fast, even in the apocalypse. Therefore, you spend most nights curled up with a book you’ve read far too many times to count, hidden away in any uninhabited nook you can find. Friendships are tough to navigate. Books earn our trust. Most times, anyway. Besides, in this world, love and attachment are a gamble most cannot afford.
“I have to go,” Abby says, poking her head through the door jamb. You watch her balk through the tarnished mirror. “I’m sorry.”
“Thought you said you weren’t leaving until we talk this through,” you say.
Her body turns rigid, worried. She’s not one to break a promise and take it lightly. A soft shrug of your shoulder seems to placate her for the time being. Duty calls and Abby is a loyal soldier. You want to relax her fears.
You stick out a mischievous tongue and her brows shoot up at the audacity.
“Careful,” she warns, and you swear you see her pupils blow wide as her gaze drags from your offensive tongue to your nervous, wiggling toes. “Don’t leave. I’ll be back.”
———-
It is possible to establish tranquility within the compound. There is a dusty balcony overlooking the stadium gardens. It’s been a minute since you last took refuge here, and you realize the seasons have changed. Leafy greens and bright, glossy vegetables pepper the garden beds below, not quite ready to pick, but you can almost taste them. You wonder if they’ve found any berry seeds during recent patrols. Wouldn’t it be nice to take a break from fighting infected—scavenge for seeds and plants instead? Rummage through abandoned garden sheds and decrepit houses with moss bitten solariums. Sink your fingers into moist soil, sow something hopeful. Present it to Abby in the palm of your hand. Feed it to her and feel the crunch of a ripe radish between her teeth. Taste the sweet spice of her tongue as she leans in to thank you.
“Fuck!” you yelp, as two powerful hands clasp your shoulders from behind.
Abby drops beside you with a smirk as Manny folds over in laughter in the distance, taking the stairs two at a time in the opposite direction. Now that he’s delivered Abby to you, he can piss right off as far as you’re concerned.
“When will you two assholes quit doing that?”
“Depends,” Abby says with a chuckle. “When are you going to stop daydreaming and stay alert like we’ve told you six hundred times?”
“Never, ever relax. Got it.”
Abby nudges you with her shoulder, taking a candy bar out of her pocket. It’s wrapped in wax paper from the chow hall, a rare, handmade delicacy. “Your favourite.”
“I didn’t get you anything,” you pout, breaking off a piece for her. She tries to wave it off, but you insist, and her smile is worth the extra bite.
She lets it melt between her fingers, seeming to forget how to eat.
“Yes, you did,” she murmurs, almost to herself.
You presume she isn’t referring to the treat shared between you, and it makes your stomach twist. The flutters in your belly flare up into your cheeks once again.
“I told you to stay put,” Abby says.
“You’re not the boss of me.”
She snorts at that, grimacing at the sticky mess in her hands before popping the candy into her mouth.
You curse your filthy brain as it dives headfirst into the gutter, watching Abby languidly suck the coating off her fingers. You force yourself to fixate on the gardens before you give yourself away. The two of you sit in companionable stillness for a while, admiring the community you’ve all worked so tirelessly to maintain.
A gaggle of children toss a ball back and forth in the field beyond the gardens, dogs barking in their kennels at the exhilarated shouts. Soldiers you recognize and some you don’t, traversing the stadium in their civilian clothes, roaring laughter between them. None of it would feel like home without the girl sitting next to you.
Abby clears her throat. “I guess there’s some stuff we should talk about.”
“I guess.”
The sun has gradually moved, drenching your balcony in shade. You place your chilly hands between your thighs and squeeze, eager to escape the incessant thrumming driven by your nerves.
“What do you want from me?” she asks.
“Sheesh, Abby.”
“I’m serious Y/N. I need to know.”
“What does that even mean?”
“What do you want?” Abby repeats, spreading her legs and leaning into the conversation. She’s angled toward you, but her boots steal her gaze. “You’re into me.”
“I am.”
“You know I haven’t been with—you know I’ve only—”
“I know,” you quickly interject. “I expect nothing from you, Abby. This wasn’t even supposed to come out. If it’s a one-sided thing and you’re freaked out by it, it’s totally okay. I just hope we can get back to being friends.”
You glimpse her fiddling with the candy wrapper, crumpling it and then gradually unfolding it, only to repeat the process. The wider she stretches her legs, the more intensely you notice the proximity of her thighs to yours. You try not to read into it until you feel her knee bump yours with intention.
Her leg sways and bounces back again, and she raises a flirtatious brow. She’s teasing you. You’re forced to bite your lip to suppress a burgeoning grin.
She hums deep in thought, tiny noises at the back of her throat causing your insides to melt.
“I’ve thought about it,” Abby confesses, her voice cracking. She crushes your shoe impishly with the edge of her boot. “You and me.”
“Like the innocent relationship parts or the—other stuff?”
“Both.”
That familiar thrumming drops heavily through your belly, this time between your thighs, and you experience a stab of shame alongside it. A lifetime of navigating your sexuality combined with a tangible fear for Abby. It hasn’t been an easy road for you. She deserves a safe experience.
“How does it make you feel?” you ask.
“Excited,” she says. She looks at you now, without pause. Licks her lips and rakes her top teeth over the bottom one. Her cheeks are rosy and freckled and you ache for her.
“Yeah?” you choke out.
“Nervous, too. You’ve got me losing focus during missions. I’m finding it harder to keep you off my mind—tougher to be away from you when they need me. I can’t stand it sometimes, having this fantasy only in my head. Not knowing where we stand or how to approach the situation.”
“You sound like such a soldier,” you say.
“I am.”
Abby looks out at the stadium, quiet and pensive. Some would even say brooding if they hadn’t heard the words pouring from her mouth. She sniffs and readjusts. Shifts her body closer to yours. Her breathing has changed. Heavier. Rapid. Or is it yours?
“Your hands are tiny,” Abby titters and she’s reaching for them.
This shy, captivating human being is probably terrified out of her gorgeous blonde head, but she wants to touch you and your brain and body catch fire in a flash. You soak up the thrill of her fingers intertwining with yours, her sweaty palms offering warmth to your cold ones. You trace the veins in her wrist with the pad of your thumb. She smells like the forest.
“They’re pretty though,” Abby continues, still in a trance over the embrace. She splays your fingers out and measures them against hers.
“Yeah, yeah. Your hands are bigger than mine. Get over yourself.”
“Better to protect you with, my dear,” Abby says, and it’s a promise.
She pulls your hand to her lips and places a trail of soft kisses across your knuckles.
“Feels good,” you sigh. “I could get used to this.”
You can’t help but drift away at her gentle affection and at the back of your eyelids the memory plays.
You and Abby Anderson huddled in the library, reading old fairy tales together. Your very first conversation with her that didn’t revolve around ammunition, route planning, or rations. You engaged in a rather fierce debate with her over the moral of the stories you read. Revelled in her reaction to being deemed the big, bad wolf.
“I want to be more than a friend to you,” she says, her kisses transforming into seductive nibbles at the delicate skin of your wrist. “Tell me how to make that happen.”
“Are you sure?”
Abby lifts you onto her lap with ease. A strong hand rests at the small of your back while the other slides into your hair. She pulls you close, her warm breath tickling your neck as she murmurs softly against your ear. “Yes. Show me how to make you mine.”
well, i guess i really shouldnt go more in depth with the cnc stuff cause im a bit confused by the replies on it 😭 i think i should remove some of the tags but then i feel like i could remove it all together idk
you’ve never really been musically inclined, the interest has always been there whether it’s been learning the piano, violin and even as far as playing the recorder that one time in the third grade (even though you nearly failed your test for your music grade). but you especially favoured the guitar.
whilst on the other hand, it’s entirely different for your girlfriend, ellie. regardless of her learning an instrument later and having less interactions with them than you have had, she is extremely talented.
anytime she picks up her acoustic guitar, strumming a tune, you’re enraptured immediately. she finds it cute, how wide your eyes get, the corners of your mouth turning up in a small smile and how you lightly tap your feet with the tune, even if it’s a little off key.
she knew of your interest in the instrument, which is how you’ve gotten to this moment right now. you were sitting in ellie’s room on her bed pushed up against the wall and under the window. she had posters littering the walls as well as pictures of her with joel, jesse and dina.
the orange of the sunset dusted the room through her window, setting the ambiance and complimenting the smell of ellie, a subtle vanilla musk with hints of sandalwood and pine.
“okay so,” she started and then lightly sighed. “babe, you’ve got to pay attention if you want me to teach you how to play.”
“sorry..” you mumbled out, still being slightly distracted by the way the her eyes looked in the sun and the freckles that were littered amongst her face. “i keep getting distracted.”
ellie was well aware that you were looking at her, it was easy to tell by the far away look in your eyes. but she wasn’t about to feign ignorance, you had asked her to teach you how to play the guitar and she intends to do exactly that.
“y/n, you asked for a guitar lesson — not to stare at me, but i’m not complaining though.” she joked as she lightly bumped your side.
you shook your head and laughed lightly before turning to face her again, the guitar sitting in your lap.
“okay! so… how do i hold it again?” you smile.
ellie jokingly rolls her eyes with a smile then grabs your right hand, maneuvering it to be against the body of the guitar. then she moves your left hand to grab the underside of it’s neck.
“like this. at least this is how joel showed me how to.”
you nod and then look down at the instrument, your mouth forming a little ‘o’ then a small smile. you strum lightly, then look up excitedly at ellie.
“i’m a natural, huh? that didn’t sound bad at all!” you chirped happily.
ellie chuckles and then gives a quick peck to your temple. “oh yeah, you’ll be like jimmi hendrix in no time.”
smiling lightly at her joke and the affection, you crane your neck forwards swiftly to press a soft kiss on her lips. she reciprocates, her hands making their way under your jaw to press you further into her, not wanting the kiss to end.
eventually the two of you separate, resting your foreheads against one another and giggling to each other.
“you’re such a bad distraction.” you joke.
“i guess i am.” she laughs, pecking your lips once more.
“but you’re my favourite distraction.” you reply, feeling heat rise to your face.
ellie flushes red, the colour creeping it’s way onto her cheeks and the tips of her ears. “you’re so cringey sometimes…” she mutters shyly.
everytime i write cnc im like hm how far can i go with this? 😵💫 bc theres dialogue that i wrote in some of my previous cnc ellie smuts that i had to write out bc it felt like it would be too heavy djdbjdd pls tell me what u guys think
titsay
annaxmalina
andulkaphoto
baratheonpilled
vaporwave
blakekathryn
dailybridgerton
germansingergirl
jacobvanloon
romaincrisis
tangentwithtanner
