#sorry abby

[astrobei]

prompt from @strangeswift: "literally anything madwheeler. them bonding, them in the future being besties, them arguing... whatever you want. just them."

It might only be her first week of high school, but Max is already so over it. 

It meaning everything. The cramped desks, the giant textbooks, the smell of the locker rooms after third period gym. The way that there had been some plausible deniability, in middle school, about the inherent repulsiveness of teenage boys– and now any minute trace of that is gone, because holy fucking shit, it’s like all of a sudden, deodorant has just totally ceased to exist.

Which isn’t great for someone like Max, by the way, who stands a glorious five-foot-three– also known as the perfect armpit height for the average pubescent boy.

Yeah. She’s so over it.

If walking the hallways hadn’t been abhorrent enough because of this and this alone– which it is, mind you, it’s plenty bad enough– there’s everything else. Everything else meaning the looks. The stares and the glances and the whispers following her as she walks from first period English to second period Geometry, trying her hardest to not get violently lost in the hallways like a total freshman. It’s embarrassing enough being a freshman, right, because you don’t know where your classes are and you have to run to the cafeteria to get a good seat and you’re not completely jaded yet, so people can one hundred percent tell that you’re new.

Max is used to being the new girl. She’s used to holding her head high and marching down the hall like she knows the school like the back of her hand, when in reality, she’d never stepped foot in it before that morning. So the being a freshman thing is a certain kind of clumsy spotlight that she doesn’t mind.

What she does mind, however, is the dead brother thing.

Stepbrother, technically. As if that makes it any better, the way that her mom won’t look at her and suddenly there’s beer in the fridge where her mom never used to keep any before. If that makes the pitying glances and whispers as she passes by any better. As if that takes away from any of it.

She knows what the girls, especially, are thinking. So few casualties at Starcourt, and Billy Hargrove– the cool new boy from California, the one with the cool car and the charm and the hair and the lifeguard job at the pool– Billy Hargrove had to be the one to die.

Max supposes she can’t really blame them either. It’s easy to get caught up in someone from afar. Easy enough to get too caught up on the ridiculous amounts of body oil and the gross open front shirts and the hair they spend hours on every day to really see the small stuff.

Like how they’re an asshole, maybe. An asshole who caked the whole house up with the stench of cigarette smoke and stale beers and sweat. An asshole who liked to push people down to lift himself up. An asshole who bullied little kids just to make himself big again, who–

The girls didn’t see any of that, of course. Max is happy for them, despite the glares and the whispers and the pity. No one deserves to see that. Let them remember Billy as a hero. The king of Hawkins High.

Don't speak ill of the dead, et cetera. It's fine. This is a secret she can shoulder on her own.

Max swings the locker door open, shoving her Geometry textbook into her bag with a soft grunt. Another reason to hate high school– or maybe love it– is that she’s going to get so scary jacked by the end of the year.

“You’re not going to tryouts today?”

The voice behind her makes her jump, even though the hallway is just as crowded and cacophonous as it always is. Mike Wheeler is looming over her, one hand clutching tight at the strap of his backpack, looking, for all intents and purposes, like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

Max frowns. “Tryouts?”

“Lucas has tryouts today,” Mike explains, slow and condescending like he’s trying to explain long division to a toddler. “Remember?”

“Of course I remember,” Max says immediately, which definitely makes her sound guilty of not remembering. But she had remembered. Of course she had remembered. It was all Lucas talked about for the last month. Basketball tryouts for the high school team. He’d said high school team like it was the big leagues that were personally recruiting him, as if he weren’t going out for JV.

“Right,” Mike says. Predictably, he doesn’t sound like he believes her. “You’re really not going?”

Max bristles. “What’s it to you?”

“Because Lucas is my friend,” Mike huffs, “and I’ve had to listen to him mope all week about you being too busy to see him at tryouts.”

“Yeah, so?” Max leans down to zip her backpack closed, the zipper catching momentarily on a stray notebook corner. She heaves it onto her shoulder and tries to pretend like it’s not as heavy as it is. Jesus H. Christ. “I can’t help being busy, Wheeler.”

“You’re not busy.”

“Yeah? How would you know?”

“Because you don’t do anything,” Mike scowls, falling into easy step beside her as she speeds down the hallway to class. The bell is going to ring any moment and– damn it.

She’s definitely lost.

Whatever, it’s fine. Geometry is, uh. It’s here somewhere. She just has to get Wheeler off her trail and then she’ll be free to be lost and confused in peace. Do not engage, she thinks. He’ll never shut up if you engage.

“You– I do things,” Max protests, despite herself. “I– I have homework.”

“Bullshit,” Mike scowls some more. He’s been scowling a lot lately, ever since summer ended. It doesn’t take an idiot to figure out why. El isn’t talking to him and the For Sale sign in front of the Byers’ just got taken down and replaced with an obnoxiously happy Sold! sign, and now Mike Wheeler’s got a dark little cloud of rain and gloom following him around like a lost little puppy. “It’s the first week of ninth grade. We have no homework.”

Max grits her teeth. “What do you want me to say? You want me to get down on my knees and grovel for forgiveness? I’m allowed to be busy, okay, Mike, I don’t owe Lucas anything, we’re not dating anymore–” 

“Yeah but you’re still his friend!” Mike exclaims, throwing his hands up and nearly smacking someone walking towards them in the face. The boy scowls. Mike ignores him.

Max looks away. Was it a right down this hallway or a left? Whatever. She goes right.

“Whatever,” she says. “Of course we’re friends.”

“Friends show up.” Mike jabs her in the shoulder with one finger, and she bats his hand away. “Friends show up. You know he’ll be so sad if you don’t–”

“Yeah?” Max spins around to face him, and jabs him in the chest with one finger, just for good measure. Mike makes an offended noise and rubs at the spot with his other hand. Not so nice, is it? “Yeah? Well if friends show up, when was the last time you went to Will’s?”

Mike blanches. “That’s– different,” he gets out. Max feels a guilty rush of satisfaction at his expression, at striking a nerve. Not so nice, is it?

“Friends show up,” she parrots gleefully. “But I know you’ve been avoiding him, so why can’t I avoid–”

“Me and Will aren’t you and Lucas,” Mike splutters, face going from a ghostly sort of white to a splotchy red all in the span of one and a half seconds. “Me and Will aren’t–”

Max waits, raising an eyebrow. “You and Will aren’t what?”

Mike ignores her. “Don’t turn this around on me,” he says. “This isn’t about me.”

“Feels an awful lot like the pot calling the kettle black, Wheeler,” Max says anyway. “What is this? Some sort of intervention? Did Lucas put you up to this?”

“No way. He doesn’t know.”

Max lets out a sigh, not bothering to hide her frustration. “Then why do you care? Why can’t you just screw off?”

“Because Lucas is my friend,” Mike presses. The scowl on his face has given way to a stubborn, almost-pleading look. “And you know how much this means to him, and–”

“Well, tough shit, okay?” Max snaps, and Mike’s mouth falls blessedly shut. “I can’t do this right now. I have to go to class and– you can stop following me now, by the way. I don’t need another stalker.”

Mike’s upper lip twitches. “We have second period Geometry together, asshole,” he says, yet somehow not unkindly. “I literally sit next to you.”

Oh. Maybe he does. Max feels a little bad for not noticing, but she hasn’t been noticing a lot of things lately. She’s spent most of the first week focused on drawing as little attention to herself as possible. Getting in and out of class as soon as she can. Running home before anyone can corner her and– God forbid– rope her into hanging out or whatever.

And see, that’s the thing, is that a different version of herself– months ago, when things were good and simple and fun and wonderfully uncomplicated– would have gone. Of course she would have gone. She can’t remember the last time she had friends like this. Definitely not back in California, definitely not right before the move. The summer had been some of the best weeks of her life. Before the– you know, before the shit had totally hit the fan and Billy died and Hop died and El was moving away and she and Lucas broke up. Again.

They’d broken up before too, and they’d always gotten back together, but it seemed like a finality this time. It wasn’t the sort of thing he could make up to her with jewelry and teddy bears and chocolate from Melvald’s with the price sticker scratched off (and Mrs. Byers’ employee discount no doubt utilized).

It was different this time because he didn’t need to make things up to her. Because it wasn’t his fault, and she wasn’t dumping his ass because he’d been immature and loud and thoughtless in typical thirteen-year-old fashion.

He’d been the opposite, actually.

She turns away from Mike before he can see her face.

Lucas had been so composed about it, so mature. He hadn’t rolled his eyes or scoffed or been frustrated when she’d said it. He’d been– quiet. Sad. Accepting. If that’s what you want, he’d said, and she’d nodded quietly before stepping off the bleachers and walking away. 

It was what she wanted, because it was easier this way, but something still made her frustrated and keyed up at the way he’d said it. Quiet and sad and without a fuss. 

More than anything, Max wants it to be April again, when things were simple. When he’d win her back and deep down she’d be secretly pleased that he hadn’t gotten tired of this inane push and pull. That he wanted her enough to spend his allowance on that teddy bear or those roses. She’d never really been mad at him. That’s just who she was– someone who pushed and pulled on the slightest of whims. Someone who dragged everyone else along with her, just because she could.

“Max?” Mike prompts. “The bell’s going to ring, and we’re in the wrong wing, so–”

The scowl has disappeared from his face a bit. He looks strangely contemplative.

Not angry. Not pitying. Just– looking.

Max takes in a deep breath and crosses her arms. “And you didn’t tell me this before?”

“You were all– all angry and stomping around and– it didn’t seem like the time!”

“Like you’ve ever cared,” she huffs, then spins on her heel and sets off in the opposite direction.

“No, Max– go left.”

“Oh. I knew that.”

She didn’t know that of course, but it’s not like she’s going to say this out loud. Mike catches up to her in three long strides, his bag bouncing obnoxiously against his back. “So?” he prompts, and Max wants to slam her head into the wall and yell. “Are you going?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re insanely persistent? Like annoyingly so?”

Mike grins. “I consider it one of my better qualities.”

“You remind me of poison ivy,” Max grumbles, as they turn the corner into the east wing. The bell rings sharply, the sound shrill and tinny through the hall, and she startles. “Oh shit–”

“So you’ll come, right?” Apparently Mike Wheeler doesn’t care about racking up tardies in his first week here. It’s not like Max does either, but she does like to hold the moral high ground.

She shakes her head, almost smiling despite herself. “Why do you want me to so bad?”

“It’s important to Lucas,” Mike insists, “and he’ll want you there. I don’t know how many more times I can say the same damn thing.”

“I don’t think Lucas wants to see me, Mike. I broke up with him, remember?”

At this, Mike stops abruptly, right in the middle of the hallway. Max collides roughly with his shoulder with a shocked gasp.

“Hey! What’s your deal?”

Mike grabs her shoulders, frustrated. “It’s because we– I’ll kill you if you repeat this to anyone, Max, I swear– but we miss you, okay? All of us. We miss you. It’s not that complicated, seriously.”

We miss you.

If she’s being honest, Max hadn’t been aware that there was anything to miss. She visited El, sometimes, after school when the trailer park got dark and lonely and way too quiet. It wasn’t the same as before, though. Things were heavier, sadder. Too many things unspoken, hanging in the air. 

El lived with the Byers now, and sometimes Will would be there too. There was something heavier and sadder about him too, but Max couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. But surely there was nothing to miss in her absence. The four of them did just fine before she came along– Lucas and Dustin and Mike and–

She glances down at his hands on her shoulders, and gets a brief flash of phantom pain– hands gripping her wrists, too tight, angry. Being pushed against walls, wrestled and manhandled and shoved into the car. Road rage.

So much anger. God, there was so much anger.

She was tired of the anger, but now she doesn’t know what to do without it. Maybe that means there’s something wrong with her. Normal people don’t think like this.

She pulls away sharply. “Don’t touch me.”

Worry flashes across Mike’s face, a split second and then it’s gone. His hands fall limply to his sides. “I– sorry.”

Max feels bad. Really, she does. She wants to go. Really, she does. She wants to laugh and tease Lucas as he misses free throw after free throw, and then congratulate him when he inevitably makes the team anyway, because of course he will. He's a shoo-in, and she wants to run down to the gym after school and shake the nerves out of him and tell him that. She wants to go.

She wants–

Mostly, though, she just wants to be left the hell alone.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and Mike’s face falls, ever-so-slightly. The guilt swells up inside her and she looks down at her shoes. They’re getting even more late with every second she waits here, unmoving, and yet– “I really can’t.”

Mike doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then he sighs, and reaches for the handle of the door to the classroom, pausing for a moment before opening it. “Next time?”

It’s weirdly hopeful. Max swallows the guilt back down. “Next time,” she lies, and follows him inside.

[tvmilfs]

[washingtonleagueoffurries]

Me? In love with the reboot Tomb Raider series? Nah.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Where the nightmares began in FNAF 4..

[jenoutof10]

i call this the "maybe in another universe, i'm a better sibling to you."

[elliesdoll]

𝜗𝜚 thinking about sitting on abby’s lap. taking over all of my thoughts. like you’re assigned with her on a little patrol sesh and a few other ppl. u guys ride on the back of those combat truck thingies, but there definitely is no room for ur butt on any area of that vehicle. so, reluctantly offering, abby leans back a bit and pats her knee gently. “you can sit here, if you want.” and jesus you can’t tell if you’d rather die or if this is what you’ve been dreaming of. you shake your head, not wanting to make a fool of yourself, and laugh. “no no, it’s fine. i can crouch here.” while gripping the side of the truck, knowing you’re bound to slip from the gravelly bumpy roads you travel on. abby shakes her head and ushers you with her hand. “cmon, you’re gonna bust your ass if you do. just sit on my leg, it’s no big deal.” you don’t wanna hold up the group any longer, so you oblige. you sit yourself snug on her right thigh. god, it’s so firm and so thick. she’s just pure fucking muscle. you had that underlying fear of being too heavy or uncomfortable for her, but abby never looked happier. leaned back, elbows resting on the edges of the truck while she talks with manny. internally though, she’s freaking out a lil. but you know she’s too cool to show it. as you guys drive off, the bumpy path makes you slip a bit, using your feet to try and steady yourself on her leg. abby takes notice of this, and grabs your hips ever so gently, sliding you up to her upper thigh. “don’t want you to fall off.” she says, to which you respond with an awkward chuckle and a nod. your ass obviously now has more room on her firm lap, and she just keeps you there. definitely not gonna get back to ur room and ride the fuck out of ur pillow, fantasizing abt her thighs. how badly you just wanna grind your cunt down so slightly— maybe she wouldn’t notice with how bumpy the ride was. you resist of course. if only you knew that abby was resisting turning you around and having you cum on her thigh right then and there, in front of everyone else.

need her in a way that creates a new sin in the bible sawry

photo creds to seraqhite on pinterest 😝

daily click palestine masterpost read this!

[halfpintpeach]

I'm so feral I need him

[ennabear]

i beg of you to write more mean abby.. i reread all of ur mean abby works religiously i swear i just love her too much ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ NONNIEEEEE STOP THIS JS TOO SWEET!!!! IM BLUSHING IM BLUSHING I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! sorry this is a lil bit messy, i haven’t really had time to lock in on anything official I HOPE THATS OKAY!!!! here are some thoughts… 18+

i think mean!abby is one of those people who are discreetly rich. she’s not the type of person to go on big fancy vacations, or buy expensive sports cars, or to always have the newest technology. before she met you, she probably spent most of her money on books or expensive brands of tea imported from countries she’s never even heard of. after she met you, though? she’d swipe her card a million times a day to see you smile.

the best way i can describe her personality is like some old cranky grandpa, the scary guy on the block who never smiles but is very confrontational. if you’ve seen her around, you’d know that she’s always wearing a scowl, only leaves her penthouse apartment early to go to the gym, and has beef with most of her neighbors. but if you know know her? she’s a sweetie pie. she loves spontaneous sweet treats, slow dancing to 70’s music, old horror films (mean!abby letterboxd goes CRAZY i just know), and most shockingly, her cats.

and she LOVES those fuckers. it’s so perfect how she can have a companion who’s quiet and small and independent, and two of them? barely any responsibility. they have an automatic feeder, entertain each other, and only bug her about once a day for attention.

as for her job, i could see her having two possibilities. one being an extreme workaholic. maybe an office job or a surgeon or something?? (NOT a nurse because they’re supposed to be good at talking to people…) OR she only really works part time, some freelance job that doesn’t really have any rules. a photographer or a tattoo artist or some sort of small business that she can mostly manage on her own. money has never been an issue for her, coming from a family of doctors. her ass was spoiled rotten as a kid, and after her dad died she inherited all of that money.

she’s the biggest protector in the world. someone was talking shit about you? she’s breaking their nose right now actually. i think the biggest reason she’s “mean” is because she actually just has anxiety. the last time she felt a love this strong, it was for her dad. she can’t afford to lose you like she lost him, so she always has to make sure you’re safe and sound. it’s not like she’s trying to be controlling by texting you every half hour, she just worries that maybe she won’t be able to protect you for once, and it’ll be at the worst possible time.

ok lock in here are some nsfw thoughts :3

you know that trope that’s like “big mean stoic character is actually the subbiest bottomest little puppy in the whole world.” yeah…. if you don’t agree what are you still doing here.

it definitely took her a while to be this vulnerable, but jesus christ is it worth it!!! the way you get to watch her squirm and whimper underneath you, knowing that you’re the only one who can make her feel this way. to give your big protective guard dog girlfriend a night off, to take care of her in return for all that she does for you.

and she lovessss being tied up!!!! something about the intimacy of knowing you’re gonna give her a good time makes her submit to you almost instantly. she has to trust you on this, has sit back and relax and let her brain melt because she physically can’t do anything about it.

when she does dom i imagine she’s a pretty big brat tamer. c’mon, not everyone has the luxury of having a girlfriend like her. if you don’t act grateful she’ll whip you in to shape. literally. she’s not afraid of a good spanking.

also she’s strapped up 24/7 but this is canon in every universe… no matter what she’s doing or where she’s going or who she’s gonna meet, the strap stays ON!!! just in case she may need it….

but she’s the aftercare QUEEN. of course. apart from the basics like food, water, cuddles, etc. she has tonssss of knowledge on proper aftercare. you’d never have to worry about being hurt or getting a uti or feeling unloved because she’s read every forum to exist about aftercare!!! i just know this bitch runs a tumblr kink blog like it’s the military… 🤦

that’s all…. going to eep now……

[amourrs]

tying a little bow on abby’s strap… the tiny furrow between her brows as she looks down at you in total confusion because you said you were about to suck it and then pulled out a pink ribbon instead… and now you have your phone out? and you’re taking pictures? it’s only a matter of seconds before your girlfriend can’t take the bewilderment any longer. “baby, what the fuck are you doing?” you ignore her as you adjust your handiwork a little and snap another picture, only looking up when you feel her hand nudge against your head to get your attention. “what does it look like i’m doing, anderson? i’m coquettifying your strap. now can you please be quiet? wanna get a video.” you sound so determined that abby just snaps her mouth shut and nods, turning in the direction you point her in so you can get a better camera angle. you’re having a whole photoshoot down there whilst the poor girl just stands there in disbelief, honestly still just as confused as before… but anything for her girl, right?

[serqphites]

been sick for so long and all i need is abby to take care of me like the good girlfriend that she is !!! also look at her lil smile im acc deceased nobody speak to me ever again

16+, modern!au, sfw, throwing up (r!), this is short and ass

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do not even THINK about lying to this girl about your sickness… she will not buy a single second of it.

"abby i promise you i'm-" sneeze, "fine..." is there even any point trying to defend your case any longer when abby is looking at you like an unimpressed, disappointed mother with her hands on her hips?

she's already called issac to tell him that she isn't going to be in work until you're better. he tried to refuse and order her to come in, but abby didn't back down and stood her ground until he eventually backed off because nobody is more important than her girl!!

she quite literally cannot leave you alone, always rushing whenever she has to leave your side just in case you need her (she definitely trips and eats shit on the stairs because she was trying to get back to your room a lil too fast)

laying on her chest!!! her big arms wrapped around you and holding you close, kisses being peppered atop your head whenever she enters a cutscene in whatever game she's playing because you begged her to let you watch her play. it took a little convincing because abby just wants you to sleep and get the rest you need, but the second you flashed her those sad puppy dog eyes she was handing you the controller to let you pick out a game for her to play.

this girl always has tissues on her, stuffing her pockets full of them so she's ready for whenever you need them

i can just picture you making those funny noises people do before sneezing and abby practically TELEPORTING to you and shoving a scrunched up tissue in your face. she would be so proud of herself too and just look at you like "did i help? :D" yes you did sweetie you did such a good job!!!

you can’t convince that this girl doesn’t make the best grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup known to mankind, it’s always her go to when you’re sick (not that you’re complaining because it’s INCREDIBLE)

not being able to sleep because you can’t breathe and you’re just in so much pain, so abby lays awake with you until you eventually fall asleep :( unless she knows you’re okay and asleep she physically cannot fall asleep, her mind won’t let her.

abby for sure keeps a bucket on her side of the bed for in the middle of the night (she doesn’t want you trying to reach for it and accidentally falling and hurting yourself)

abby is jolted awake almost immediately once you yourself wake up with a startle, shooting up into a sitting position as your hands fly to your mouth. she’s springing into action without even realising it, reaching down as quickly as possible to snatch the bucket and place it into your lap. “in the bucket baby, good girl there you go” she mumbles in that raspy sleep voice, one of her hands keeping a hold of the bucket in case you can’t while her free hand moves up to hold back your hair.

abby running you a bath with all of your favourite essentials lined up ready for you (need that). oh and she is 1000000% washing your hair and body for you, she can’t have her baby tiring herself out now can she?

even when you start to feel better she’s still just as attentive, you assure her that she can stop and just take a break but abby just continues whatever she was doing like she literally can’t hear you LMAO

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a/n: i’m genuinely so sorry this is so bad 😭 im still sick and barely had the energy to write this but i just wanted to post something SO bad. hope you’re all having a good day/night !! <3

[stars-for-circe]

Yk that thing where sometimes during a core workout you can actually cum because of the muscle stimulation??

Im imagining that but with gymrat!Abby who was probably so concentrated on her reps that she didn’t even notice it until it happened, just these little sparks of pleasure and sensitivity in her abdomen that made her shudder and gasp and try not to moan out loud. And rather than picking up where she left off (when she’s certainly still too sensitive to continue), she instead comes home to make you fuck a proper one out of her. There wouldn’t even be enough time to take off your clothes before she throws you on the couch and starts fucking herself against you.

But because of what happened at the gym she’d be so fucking sensitive and shaky, every touch making her let out broken up moans as she’d buck her hips into yours, making a sticky mess between her legs. And even after she’d already cum, you’d still feel her grinding her hips hard against yours while shivering from the overstimulation, until her kisses and sucks turn sloppy, until her pants and moans turn into whines and pleads, until that little damp patch turns into her shorts being entirely drenched. She’d probably try to play it off later and say it was from how wet she was, but you’d know the truth - that Abby was so fucking sensitive that she came in her pants. All from a little workout.

[usercelestial]

"you all hated taylor kelly, abby clark, ana flores, and every other female love interest but loooove tommy kinard, therefore you're misogynistic" SO CLOSE! i actually never hated any of those women, or any other female love interest for that matter because i'm better than you, but uh good luck next time ig <3

[butchdiaz]

when you're in a competition to pretend like everything is fine while your world gets flipped upside down and your heart gets broken in the exact same conversation but your opponent is eddie diaz

i couldn't stop thinking about this goddamn post. this is all ur fault @faethfigueroth :D (music by dodie)

[abbyshands]

♡ warnings; use of a strap-on (r!receiving), strap-on is referred to as cock by abby and in general, abby calls reader “baby” and “mama,” praise

PALESTINE LINKS | before engaging !!! | click before you fic ♡ | | join my tag list!

♡ imagine dom!abby, x softball!reader. you’d played a game earlier on, having just gotten back from it an hour or so beforehand. you are your team had won, barely, winning by a close score of 8-6. abby had come to it, the first game she had ever come to, as you’d always been too scared to allow her to come watch. however, no matter how nervous you’d been, abby had seen you play an excellent game at your infield spot, and seen how good of a player you really were, wondering why the hell you had been holding out on her before. it didn’t really matter: all that did, was you were now getting rewarded for it. “that’s it, baby. pretty cunt’s so tight around me, hm? yeah? you like my cock, huh?” abby coos as she moves into your pussy at a slow pace, easing her way into it. you’re sore from your game and borderline exhausted, so all that slips past your lips is a rushed, little “yes.” abby smiles down at you from where she is above you, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “aw, is my good girl all fucked out for me already? s’okay, mama. i’ll do all the work for my pretty girl, mhm,” abby says, and, fuck, do you like it. abby’s easy on you as she pushes her cock deeper, gradually moving her hips faster with each second that passes by. naturally, your hands find abby’s back, digging marks into it as she begins to pound into you. “my baby played so good for me, didn’t she?” abby asks you. you nod as pleasure washes over you, your eyes shutting closed. “mmm, yeah, i did, abby. i did,” you whine in response. abby’s smile widens, almost cockily so, as she pulls her cock almost fully out of you, before slamming back inside as if she never left. “yeah, you did, mama. such a good, fuck, good fucking girl. and i’m gonna reward this pretty pussy for it.”

divider creds !

𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪. tags: @sugarevans @spacewlf @hangeishere @elsdoll @flowersforvi @yondaimekazzy @carolb111 @marsworlddd @amourrs @smvtreader124 @viisgrave @elliesbff

[chloesimaginationthings]

Michael doesn’t like Halloween anymore in FNAF..

[moncharrow]

☁︎ ⋆abby anderson + vocality⋆☁︎

a/n: drabble of two gfs obsessed with tongue fucking each other... need! n not proofread girl im tired and thats work. let me be grammatically incorrect and horny

if i'm being honest, i don't think abby is a very big moaner

if you're eating her out, i think she'd be holding your head in place. she'd watch as your eyes roll back and you thrust your tongue in and out, feeling every ounce of pleasure as she rides your face and seeks her own release. she pants like a dog and grips your hair tighter in her right hand, all but shoving your face into her pussy.

her breathing is shallow but heaving- deep- rumbling and reverberating through the room. every so often, when you suck on her clit just right, she'll buck her hips up into you and stutter out a "fuck." there's no high energy, just the purest expression of intimacy. she doesn't feel the need to perform for you, no guilt for not having pornstar moans. this is abby at her most vulnerable, and you would do anything to have her cum on your tongue once more. the way her eyebrows furrow and her lip curls when she finishes is mesmerizing.

she shakes as you fuck her through it and you grin, knowing that she's enjoying it the most when she's completely silent. her throat is shot, so when she lets out a "holy shit, babe," with that cute grin, she's got a slight vocal fry.

actually? i take it back

abby would moan. but only when she goes down on you. just seeing you writhe and try to pull away because you're going to cum too early is the most fucking erotic thing to her. she grins and moans into your pussy, and you can feel the vibrations as she moves her head up and down to devour you. to me? she chuckles n laughs at you (lovingly) while she's down there, endlessly entertained by your reactions.

she reaches up to tweak your nipples, wanting to get her hands on as much of your body as she can. her big hands roam from your thighs, rubbing up and down, then trail to your chest, and your waist, using your natural curves as handles to pull you down by.

abby can't stop herself from making noise as she listens to the wetness and squelching when her tongue flicks your clit, fingers pumping in and out at a nearly impossible pace. something about knowing she's the one making you react the way you are makes her clit throb painfully. she's the kind of girl to squeeze her legs together and grind into the mattress because she finds you that appealing. get her a pillow to hump while she eats you out. call that enrichment.

so yeah. abby anderson is a PANTER when receiving and a MOANER when giving. no criticism being taken actually, inbox is closed. (kidding :3 talk 2 me)