She’s Such A Loser I Need Her

sooo real

im begging for a fic with ellie about tribbing i don't even care about the plot at this point i just an ellie fic with scissoring

━ 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀, 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ?

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, ex gf!ellie, angst here and there, SMUT, tribbing, kissing/make out session, lowkey toxic behavior, mentions and situations with alcohol, both ellie and reader are tipsy, party environment in the first 1/2, top!ellie, bottom!reader

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - ehhehehehehe i love olivia rodrigo so i had to bruh REQUESTS ARE OPEN NOW!

REBLOG MY WORK! I WORK HARD & IT'S APPRECIATED!!

Music bumped in the room on the other side of the wall that supported the upper cabinet that held your head. The smell of sweat, alcohol and cigarettes filled up the small kitchen to the brim while a few people laughed and chugged the concoction in the punch bowl that sat on the corner countertop.

Other than the patrons drinking themselves into a very horrible morning that was soon to come, there was a couple making out against the fridge. Bothering anyone that wanted to drink something other than what the party host called, 'the ultimate punch to the gut' that the college boys were frothing over.

You decided on something else that you'd scavenged from the liquor cabinet that had been broken into earlier in the night. The liquid a pink color, bubbling from the continued sloshing in your red solo cup that was lazily hanging from your hand.

Your head felt dizzy at all the uproar in the room, the only thing keeping your two feet flat on the ground was the girl in front of you. Chasing your gaze with her head that way with each direction you looked, her eyes weren't far behind to follow.

"I told you I'm done, Ellie. I'm sick of your shit." You slurred slightly, having swayed your hips on far too many people and had too many drinks to care about how you currently sounded.

Or looked for that matter, lipstick smudged across your lips and even had made its way off your mouth. Eye makeup mirroring the appearance of the lower half of your face and all the while your dress was halfway up your thighs from her prying and your continuous attempts to stop yourself from making a decision you'd regret.

"You're a fakeass bitch, y'know that?" You pointed at her, the manicure that she had in fact paid for practically mocking her as she grabbed your hand and pushed it down, holding it in her own.

"Don't be like that, babe." You rolled your eyes at just the sound of her voice, suddenly hearing it and comparing it to the biggest annoyance in the world. "You were like that first, or did you already discard the lap warmer you were entertaining when I walked in?"

Right, the bottle blonde with the bad roots.

"Y/n..." She dragged out your name with that excruciating tone that made you feel like you'd done something bad. "Answer me Ellie."

She opened and closed her mouth for a second, not meeting your eyes before shrugging her shoulders. The black fabric of her long sleeve button up going with, pissing you off even more as the realization set in that she'd worn your favorite of her nice shirts and even undone the top few buttons you always undid for her.

"She's one of Abby's friends, fuck Y/n, I don't even know her name I promise." You scoffed, leaning your head back on the cupboard, looking over at the drunk guys challenging each other to drink a full cup of the punch once again.

"You piss me off." You rubbed your eyes, not caring of the slight burn that your lashes caused on your irises. "I know. C'mon, I said sorry." She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You sent me fifty-eight text messages, I don't remember there being a 'sorry' in there though." "Babe-" Ellie stopped when she realized you were in fact not paying any attention to her now, looking out the kitchen window, but it was too dark to actually see anything past the glass.

"C'mon... let's just go home, I'll give you the best apology fucking ever." The alcohol really boosted her confidence as she said this, Ellie moving to kiss up your neck as you thought, her thumb coming to wipe the smeared lipstick away.

"I promise, babe." You wanted to fall against her and give in, just how you wanted when you seen her earlier eye-fucking you from across the room. Fucking hell you were such a gullible mess.

"Ellie..." "Can't tell me you don't miss my fingers..." "Shh!"

You tried covering her mouth but it was no use as she just laughed, looking down at your pretty eyes while you tried to shut her up.

"I don't, mine work just fine, actually." Such fakeness followed those syllables, even you cringed slightly on the inside as you spoke them.

"Huh, so you're lying to me now too?"

"No..." Yes.

"You're a bad liar." She then whispered, impossible to hear her if you had not been so close to her mouth. "You're a dickhead." You then replied, giving her a smile while pulling back.

That was nothing to her, leaning forward despite your unwillingness just earlier, but something about the way you met her lips wondered if you changed your mind.

She tasted like the shitty alcohol mix those dudes were chugging along with soaked in Chapstick and the two combined creating a rush of memories that came trickling back. Those pictures soon invading your mind all the same, fingers wrapping around her belt loops before you got a chance to stop them.

And in the haze of the smoky kitchen you broke your promise to each of your friends promising you wouldn't go back. Tugging her closer and allowing her to rest her hands beneath your ass, holding the backs of your thighs to get impossibly closer.

She was your everything and nothing, the mess stuck between your floorboards that you could never fully get rid of. Ellie knew she wasn't going anywhere, she couldn't and wouldn't be replaced and it was comforting, smirking as she began pushing herself against you and hitting your hips against the counter.

"M'not-" A kiss. "-gonna fuck you-" Another kiss. "-here." You finished, her tongue invading your mouth as soon as the final breath passed your lips. "Why not?" "Seriously?" Ellie rested her forehead against your own, huffing like a child until you tapped her phone that was in her back pocket.

"You can start your apology by buying the ride home, 'kay?"

God, the things she did to see you as you were now, laid back on the bed with your dress pulled up and your head resting against her pillows. Thighs spread all for her while you stared up and watched her unbuckle her belt and unzip her jeans. Wanting nothing more than to have her between your thighs

You just looked so gorgeous in the lamplight, the yellow glow kissing your skin and she moved to kiss it as well. Wanting just as much as the inanimate object had gotten in the past few moments.

"M'gonna be so mad at myself in the morning." You grumbled playfully, Ellie watching you grin at your own prediction, returning the smile while throwing her shirt away and exposing her torso for you to run your eyes over. "But I don't even care." You concluded.

Your nail ran along the light bulge her muscles created on her arms, eyes fluttering shut while her lips made their home on your neck. Jaw becoming her favorite place to hover, smirking against your flesh when you giggled that it had tickled. Looking at the way her boxers met her lower back, little dimples just barely shadowed.

"Ellie?" She pulled back to look at you, cradling your face in her hands.

"Yeah?"

"Unzip me, I wanna feel you."

She didn't have to be told twice, helping you from your dress before tossing it to find the next morning. Your undergarments going with, swept away like they were stolen by the ocean. Your body running against hers as if you were the waves and she were the rocks, though less jagged then you'd like to admit out loud.

Her curves were softer than you remembered despite feeling them just days ago, along with her freckled skin.

"I want you." She whispered, mouth brushing against the shell of your ear.

Your friends were so gonna put you in time out.

Her boxers fell down her legs and yours wrapped around her hips, waiting for the agonizing thumping of your arousal to be put at ease. The discomfort growing while her fingers ran along your nipple, warm breath fanning your face as you both watched her hand run along your boob.

It was like the air paused along with your movements, sucking in a gasp as she played with your breast. Hand trickling down between your legs just to barely tease you.

"You wanna feel me?" You nodded at her question, moving your head up and down again and again while she lined herself up with you. Fingers lightly, just barely, brushing against your little, yet swollen, clit.

"Need to hear you say it again, Y/n."

"I wanna feel you, Ellie."

And before you knew it she was humping herself against you, not even attempting to muffle your sounds which you'd given up caring about. Grabbing at her back and holding her as close to you as possible while her clit bumped and rubbed against your own.

It felt like fireworks, despite having done this just over a million times. Burying your face in her neck while she fucked into you over and over, promising her love silently while whispering things that would make a catholic mother weep.

"Missed you so much..." You turned your head, meeting her eyes as your lips did the same. "Me or this?" You asked, a choked whimper following when she became rougher at the sound of your falsely innocent question. Her hand trapping your leg on the bed as she spread you apart.

"Both, but mainly you." She played off, her other hand softly wrapping around your neck. "I would hope." You giggled, mouth dropping agape as her pace picked up. The whole bed rocking back and forth while simultaneous creaks that were sure to piss off her neighbors for the next however long she spent on top of you.

"Oh fuck, El... fuck please..." You squeezed and clawed at her, sure to leave red marks on her pale skin for her to be teased about when she went to the gym. Cunts grinding back and forth creating a heavenly feeling you just couldn't describe, choking out noise after noise.

"El... m'gonna- fuck I- fuck..." She kissed along the column of your throat, squeezing just the slightest. "I know." From your hole to your bundle of nerves, in your slightly inebriated state it felt like too much.

Sounds you weren't aware you could make falling from your mouth, and you were sure you heard her lightly grunt. Hips stuttering as you'd begun to jerk against her pussy, letting out a yelp while you trickled into your orgasm.

A mix of both you and her dripping down your ass, but it didn't stop you from trying to meet her thrusts. Crying a bit when she slammed you back down, kissing you and then down your chest.

"Leah's gonna be so pissed at me." You huffed, staring up at the ceiling as she peeled herself off of you and fell to the side. Giving you the option of moving to lay with her or finding your way the hell out of here.

"Who cares? Come ride me." She said, sitting up against her pillows that laid against her headboard. "Seriously?' You tilted your head up to glance at her, giving her your best unimpressed expression.

"What? Can't take it back anyway."

This was a bad idea, right?

"Will you eat me out after?" You asked, tilting your head and then rolling over to make your way up to her. "If you do a good job." She said, setting her hands on your hips.

Fuck it, it's fine.

a/n: YES I KNOW THAT SHE'S MY EX BUT CAN'T TWO PEOPLE RECONNECT I ONLY SEE HER AS A FRIEND! BIGGEST LIE I EVER SAID.

REQUESTS OPEN

It makes me crazy how the stuff in the rwrb fandom go sometimes bc like i see the most devastating edit of henry and bea to sweet nothing by taylor swift on tiktok and then when i go on tumblr a firstprince fanart where they’re drawn like little squishy babies with the puppy eyes and the funniest shitposting text posts then i read a discourse on twitter about people bashing shaan for not helping henry after the leaks and then when i go on ao3 the fics go like ‘henry fucks himself on alex’s cock’. Likeeeeee??? lmao this is the emotional roller coaster ride that I’m here for and I’m having a blast.

I want her to pin me down against the bed and slam her fingers into me. I want her to overstimulate me until I'm crying and begging her to stop. I want her to slap my face and pull my hair and then hold me during aftercare. I want her to pull me to her chest and stroke my back. I want her to massage my sore body. I want her to cuddle me until I fall asleep in her arms

🃁 𝖎 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖓’𝖙 𝖈𝖗𝖞 (𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖎 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖙) 🃁

𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚!𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲

⟡ now playing: 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔯𝔩 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔲𝔡𝔢 - 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔨𝔫𝔡, 𝔣𝔱. 𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔞 𝔡𝔢𝔩 𝔯𝔢𝔶 ⟡

pairing: mafia!abby x burlesque dancer!reader

cw: creepy men, violence, descriptions of blood, lowkey stalker abby vibes, fem!reader, anger issues, family trauma, minor character death mentioned (rip jerry), possessive behavior, dark sexual themes, mentions of b*sm, dumbification, dollification, shibari, exhibitionism, dom too!abby, sub bottom!reader, collaring, mommy/daddy kink, mentions of bad previous relationships, aftercare/no aftercare ; let me know if I missed anything!

an: hi pretties!! I had so much fun writing this! real throwback to mafia bf wattpad. I kind of went crazy :) likes reblogs and comments are encouraged they lift my spirits <3 let me know what other abby headcanons I should write or if I should make a pt 2 to this ❀ reqs are open too, send me something raunchy i’d love that ❀ btw- the images in the header do not reflect what the reader looks like in any way shape or form. also most of this fic is lower case bc I think it’s cute (nd i’m lazy) okay happy reading - sincerely, sugar ⋆˚✿˖°

𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤

✮ you had never met the elusive Abigail Anderson. all you knew was that she and her influential family had owned the burlesque club you had been dancing at since you were 18 for generations

✮ you only saw her in short flashes: long blonde hair, tattooed fists always clenched, in a power suit as she conducted business meetings in her upstairs office before leaving in a flurry of bodyguards

✮ tonight was like any other. you were backstage touching up your makeup and spraying glitter on your chest, prepping for the finale of the show. what you didn’t know was that your boss would be front and center for tonight’s show for the first time in the history of the establishment. the anderson family never sat amongst their clients, always in the balconies- if they found the time to break away from business, which was rare

✮ on stage, the lights illuminated your skin and you lip synced to the sultry music as you danced, slowly stripping item after item. tonight’s finale was your first solo and you were oh so nervous. as you slinked your way to the edge of the stage, the only item of clothing left being your red slip, your gaze connected with the one and only: abigail anderson

✮ her steely blue eyes bore into yours as she sat alone at the front table, scotch (neat) in a crystal glass. she sipped and raked her gaze up and down your form as you elegantly pulled your slip down your shoulders, leaving you bare for all to see in nothing but pasties and thigh high stockings

✮ you smiled coquettishly as the crowd erupted into applause, all but one soul, rowdily cheering for your performance. miss abigail’s grip on her glass tightening viscerally and you knew she could shatter it if she tried hard enough

✮ as you stand to exit the stage a hand closes around your ankle and you panic. a man below you has a vice grip on you and you feel your short lived confidence shrink

“give us an encore sweetheart” he slurs, and he lifts his other hand in a poor attempt to stuff dollar bills into the band of your stocking

you try to shake him off and his grip tightens as he attempts to climb on stage, “no need to get feisty sweetheart, you’re just a fucking stripper in fancier clothes,” he yells at you, “just a whore like the rest of ‘em”

✮ in the corner of your vision you see abigail surge from her seat, visibly shaking with rage as she makes her way over to you. but security beats her too it, two of them tackling and then frogmarching the intoxicated man away from you as other gently leads you back to the dressing room

✮ the security man says something into his earpiece and then asks you to wait- so you listen, wiping your makeup off and rummaging for some comfy clothes to change into

“miss anderson has requested your presence in her office.” the man tells you as you pull a soft sweater over your head. you nod and follow him upstairs. in all the years you’d worked here you’ve never been in this area of the club before and your nerves buzzed as you stood in front of the sleek black double doors.

✮ you pressed them open and inside, miss abigail was sitting behind a giant mahogany desk, her hand in a bowl of ice that was tinted slightly pink. she smiled at you in such a warm way that it took you by surprise, since it conflicted so much so with her serious exterior. she gestured for you to sit in the plush armchair across from her. you couldn’t see yourself ever saying no to her so you sat down

“are you alright?” she asked, sculpted brows furrowed in concern. “I just wanted to personally apologize to you for what happened tonight.”

“i’m fine really, it’s okay-”

“it’s not though,” she interrupted, her jaw clicking with anger. she rose from her chair, wiping her dripping, bruised fist on a monogrammed towel. “that mans entitlement knows no bounds. to have the audacity to touch you in my club!” she spits

✮ she comes to sit on the portion of desk in front of you, craning her neck down to meet your gaze. “i am so sorry.”

you’re at a loss for words. you don’t know what to do with yourself, all you can focus on is abigail’s intense gaze and injured knuckles

✮“bring him in” she says, speaking to the bodyguard in the corner of the room but still holding eye contact with you.

✮ two more guards drag in the man from before. but you hardly recognize him- his face is pummeled in, black and blue and bloody. you realize the blood in the ice bowl doesn’t belong to abigail. it belongs to him. the guards force the man to his knees to your left, and you stare at him. horrified.

✮ abigail doesn’t even spare him a second glance. “do you want me to kill him?” she says, causally but seriously. “he disrespected you. and since you belong to me, he has disrespected me as well. my club. my family name too. but most importantly: you.”

✮ you do double take. she can’t be serious. but she takes your horrified reaction in stride. abigail straightens and takes off her suit jacket, draping it over the back of her office chair. she removes an expensive looking knife from her pocket and stands behind the man, flicking it open and pressing the blade to his neck as she grips his hair, fiercely jerking his head to face you.

“apologize to the lady.” she says, darkly.

✮ you blink in disbelief as you watch him say sorry over and over, blood dripping from his mouth. a few of his teeth are missing. his apologies turn to pleads as abigail presses the knife deeper, drawing a bead of blood from his gullet. he begs for mercy over and over and over and over.

✮ some twisted part of you wants to watch him die. you’ve never had anyone stand up against the horrible men in your life, and just once you’d like one of them to pay. but you know you’ll never be able to live with yourself if his blood was on your hands.

“don’t kill him.” you whisper, gaze directed to the floor.

✮ abigail huffs, almost disappointed but nods and releases him. the man slumps to the floor and the bodyguards drag him out.

✮ abigail cleans the rest of the blood from her hands and puts her jacket back on. “how are you getting home?” she questions.

“I always take the subway ma’am” you say.

She feels a pull in her gut at the honorific, but ignores it. not yet.

“I’m driving you home.”

✮ she reaches for your hand and you can’t even argue with her, so you take it. she leads you downstairs through the back to her black fortified range rover. she opens the door for you and then slides in after, handing you a bottle of water as she casually tells her driver your address.

your grip tightens on the water bottle, “miss abigail, how- how do you know where I live?”

“I keep tabs on all of my investments,” she says breezily, with a soft hand on your thigh, “and please, from now on call me Abby.”

And you have ever since

𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡

✮ you and abby have been inseparable since that night at her club. she encourages you to have a life of your own, but you two are rarely seen without one by the others side

✮ abby is fast to call you her girlfriend. likes to refer to you as her lover or partner to others, because she needs them to know you’re hers. being abby’s has offered you a level of protection you’d never know. after a lifetime of being treated like you were less than dirt, the royal treatment that came with being informally apart of the anderson family was like a breath of fresh air

✮ abby gifts you a penthouse apartment after a week of being together. after seeing the walk up you used to live in, with its roach infestation and lack of security, she was quick to amend the issue. you spend most of your time at her brownstone though, because you can’t bear to be away from her

✮ out of concern for you safety (and slight jealousy) abby asks you to retire from dancing at her club. since you no longer need to worry about money you agree, always wanting to make her happy. you occasionally will give her a private dance in the privacy of her bedroom

✮ you learn that the anderson family are not just in the club and real estate business. their empire is built mainly on international drug selling and smuggling. sometimes abby will let you sample new products before they’re released on the market. one time you smoked something so strong it sent you into such an intense panic attack that the only way you could calm down was abby offering up her muscular, tattooed arm for you to drawn on. you filled in her ink with markers and it finally got your heart rate to settle. now when you ever feel overwhelmed or anxious she lets you do some doodling and you love her for it

✮ abby wants you to have a life and ambitions outside of being her little housewife, so she gives you a modest loan ($500,000) for you to do whatever you please with. you decide to start a charity that helps young children in the foster care system become classically trained in the dance style of their choosing. you want to help kids like the anderson family helped you, and abby is so proud of you. she helps you learn about business and financial literacy, wanting you to be self sufficient and confident. she also makes sure to show you how to take care of herself, and gives you self defense and shooting lessons

✮ abby is a good few years your senior, you being in your mid twenties and her being in her late thirties. but she never ever talks down to you or treats you like a child. she lets you go crazy and experience your youth, never telling you not to wear something revealing or how much to drink. she just holds your hair when you vomit in the toilet and always makes sure to have fresh bagels and painkillers on the bedside table when you wake up.

✮ abby’s usual composed, levelheaded nature only crumbles around the anniversary of her fathers death. her employees, family and friends all warn you of her violent outbursts and fits of anger during this time. but somehow, around you she finally leaned to cope with her grief differently. she talks about him out loud for the first time in years with you. she starts calling you ‘sunshine’ because you always chase her strorm clouds away

✮ abby likes to spend weekends at the country house in upstate new york when she wants a bit of fresh air. the first time she takes you up there is on your birthday. she introduces you to her dobermans, and the new puppy she got you. you name her sprinkles and carry her in your arms everywhere. if you’re in bed, sprinkles is in your lap while you read. she’s on the counter while you do face masks. she’s in your arms as you watch tv. you’re inseparable.

✮ abby’s most dangerous hobby/addiction is high stakes poker. the buy in can range anywhere from 25k to a million dollars. she likes it when you sit on her lap, keeping her company in a tiny dress while she plays, cigar tucked between her lips, hand full of cards, the other under your skirt. she doesn’t like when her opponents ogle you- but she does like when you sweet talk them and they distractedly play awful hands until she wins. she always sticks some of the cash under your bra strap and tells you to buy yourself something pretty, before smacking you on the ass affectionately. she calls you her good luck charm.

✮ abby is secretly a giant softie. she has a wicked sense of humor and kind heart, a side of her only you get to see. she doesn’t remember much of her mother but she does have the classic children’s literature books she passed down to her. you ask abby to read some to you, and she pretends not to be excited when you curl up in her lap, head tucked into her neck, while she reads ‘the little prince’ to you

𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔶

✮ after 2 years of dating abby proposes to you, late one summer night while on vacation in bali. she gives you her signet ring, with her family crest on it- you know it means much more to her than a traditional engagement ring because it’s one of the only things of her fathers she has left. you’re so happy you cry as she slides it on your finger. you’re still crying on the sunset helicopter ride over the ocean. you’re still crying when she holds you in bed back at the hotel, telling you how much she loves you and laughing adoringly at your outpour of emotion

✮ you get married in gorgeous chateau in the south of france with all your friends and family there to support you. you wear a costum made designer gown, and abby only lets a single tear fall when she sees you walking down the aisle, quickly wiping it away. she gets you a vintage cream colored Porsche as a wedding gift and you keep it for when you want to go on drives at the country house. during your first dance she twirls you around the ballroom to ‘at last’ by etta james

✮ abby loves having you as her wife but now that her ring is on your finger her jealous tendencies increase tenfold. she’s more possessive, touchier and angrier when men and women try to get with you

✮ you officially move into abby’s brownstone but keep your penthouse for girls nights (and the occasional fight when you can’t stand to sleep in the same bed as abby. but she always shows up at your door with flowers and you inevitably go back home with her)

✮ abby sometimes gets so caught up in her work she just holes up in her home office and forgets to eat or sleep. she likes having you live there because you’re always gentle to her when she forgets to take care of herself. you get her takeout from her favorite sushi place when she doesn’t have time for dinner and you keep her company when she’s stressed. either on the sofa with a book or sitting straddling her lap while she types around you. sometimes you sit at her feet and rest your head on her muscular thigh while she pets your hair. you like it because you can see the tension leave her body. you also like how submissive you feel beneath her

✮ on your 1 year wedding anniversary, you and abby get matching tattoos. she gets your first initial on her bicep, tucked between to older pieces she got done in her 20s. you get a capital ‘A’ inked on your hipbone, dangerously close to your cunt. sometimes abby will just pull down your skirt and slide your panties to the side to see it. she loves that you’ve basically branded yourself with her name. you belong to her in every sense of the word

𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 (𝔫𝔰𝔣𝔴)

✮ abby, being the twisted and tortured soul that she is, her sexual expression is quite dark, her kinks a little fucked up

✮ a little while into your relationship abby reveals to you that one of her personal establishments is a b*sm club that she regularly attended, engaging in sessions with a few submissives she had on her roster. she let them all go, letting them down gently when she began seeing you

✮ the first time you attend the club abby explains it all to you and you take it all in very earnestly. she’s surprised at how open you are and how you’re not running for the hills at some of the kinks she reveals to you

✮ the first time you have a scene together, it’s private, simple. abby establishes a safeword with you (you like the stoplight method) and she fucks your cunt with her thick fingers until your dripping down your thighs, pleading for her to stop. the first time she gives you aftercare you’re so confused as to why she’s being so nice to you. you’re used to hookups, and even some of your partners, just fucking you then rolling over. or just straight up leaving. abby draws a bath for you, with oils and salts for your sore muscles and you fall asleep in her arms submerged in lavender scented bubbles and foam.

✮ you discover that abby has a hardcore exhibitionism kink. she’s taken you against open windows and on balconies, at night and in broad daylight. she’s pressed up into you underneath the dinner table while out with friends. she loves to finger you with a small audience at the club, you on her lap on the sofa, legs spread for everyone to see while she forces your eyes to meet theirs with a painful grip on your jaw

✮ when she proposed to you, abby also presented you with a collar she bought for you to wear during scenes, only if you want to. and around the club occasionally. you’re not sure if you’re going to be into it, but as soon as abby fits it snug around your neck you almost cry from out perfect it feels. it’s the key to easing you into that beautiful submissive haze abby loves to see you in

✮ with abby you kindle a love for shibari. she doesn’t know much about the art but learns and researches extensively for you. sometimes she does decorative ties with pretty rope just to look at you in them- you love the feeling of being constrained and observed. you especially love being suspended, with dozens of eyes on you as you hang from the ceiling. sometimes abby will circle you like you’re prey and she’s a hunter. sometimes she’ll just pet your hair and tell you how pretty you look while you whine and beg for her to touch you more

✮ abby likes to be called mommy and daddy, depending on the day and her mood. mommy when she’s holding you in her lap, cooing at you while you cry from overstimulation, her fingers stuffed inside you. she’s daddy when she’s taking you from the back, smushing your face into the pillows as she fucks you through your fourth orgasm while you struggle to breath

✮ abby likes treating you like her little doll, buying clothes for you and putting them on for you. buckling your shoes too. she enjoyed casually being your dom outside of the club space. ordering for you. physically moving you where she wants you. she gets off on the idea of you being totally dependent on her (but only for the headspace it puts both of you in, she makes it very clear that she wants you to be your own person)

✮ abby usually doesn’t enjoy receiving when it comes to aftercare, but since being with you she lets you do small things for her. intimacy where she’s the focus makes her nervous but you reassure her that you just want to make sure she’s feeling loved. after an intense scene, only after you’re rested and taken care of, she’ll sometimes let you massage her back with vanilla scented oil. she also likes when you wash her hair for her. she has to kneel so you can reach her head since she’s so tall. this being one of the few times she’s ever on her knees for someone,

she’s glad that it’s for you

this was so fun to write, let me know what you think! ⋆˚✿˖°

90's Courtney Love would totally won saw traps. she would probably spill as much blood as necessary for her life i just know it

And then she would become a apprentice. Queen.

frfr 🧎‍♀️

FAVORITE SONG FAVORITE LYRICS EVER!!!! HIT SO HARD ON TOP