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a/n: wrote majority of this in a half-asleep, half horny state last night. guess I rly just wanna get railed lololol. and as always my works are intended for adults only, minors buzz off. enjoy freaks xx.
until your legs are shaking and you’re having a trouble keeping up with that relentless pace you started with because you’re thighs are practically burning with the effort. and abby notices, god, of course she does. how could she not when you’re whimpering pathetically into the crook of her neck and hardly able to rock your hips down onto her cock like you had been for the last half an hour.
on any other occasion, she would’ve made you beg for it, held you in place and kept her strap buried to the hilt inside you. and she’d throughly enjoy watching the way you’d writhe and cry on her lap until you finally told her what you needed. but abby was feeling generous tonight.
because she was still replaying the way you practically jumped her when she got back from patrol, barely letting her shut the door behind her before she was shoved back against it. but she didn’t complain when you tugged her shirt over her head, her breath hitching as you pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat and continuing lower until you reached her sternum.
she was reminiscing about how pretty you looked when you eagerly sunk to your knees, glancing up at her from under your lashes as you finished undressing her—right there in the entryway. the way your eyes fluttered shut, sighing in content when she guided your head between her thighs and you let her use your tongue over and over again until the evidence of her was dripping down your chin.
so without another word, abby grips onto your hips tighter, driving her strap up into you with such suddenness and force that it punches a surprised moan from your throat—because fuck that’s exactly what you needed. but she doesn’t stop, not even after she’s coaxed an earth-shattering orgasm from you, she just keeps bouncing you on her cock.
and all you can do is take it, nails digging into the taut muscles of her shoulders as you practically sob against her from the delicious overstimulation.
guess all those hip thrusts at the gym really paid off, huh?
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The absolute entitlement some readers have towards fanfic writers behind the guise of "coherent criticism" is truly giving me second hand embarrassment at this point.
I'll say it again, and again, until we all fucking die: fanfic writers are not professional writers.
Most fanfic writers are working 40 hours a week, studying at school, or BOTH. (And sometimes have additional commitments on top of that!)
They write fanfic for FUN. They write to recharge emotionally.
"Oh but I'm not a creator so the 'just write it yourself' line doesn't apply to me" The barriers to being a creator on ao3 are: an internet connection and a word processor. That's it. I know you have those because you are bitchin on social media about creators not catering to you as an individual. Stop bullshitting that you're "not a creator". You can write what you want to read.
The "critcism" smokescreen is just not going to cut it. You don't want to give criticism, you're not even qualified to do so. Being a critic is an actual, real life job that people get paid to do. They're expected to be qualified and have experience.
Literally stop using the guise of criticism to bully fanfic writers into feeling bad that they want to write about whatever it is that helps them rest and recharge and share it in a way that feels good to them holy fucking shit grow up
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I feel like abby as a dom would actually have quite a lot of patience, and give you plenty of chances to correct your bratty behavior before she would eventually have to punish you.
Abby Anderson x Female Reader
Summary: Mornings at the outpost are better spent in bed, and Abby has a plan to keep you there.
Warnings & Tags: Smut with like 5% Plot, 18+ MDNI, Dom! Abby x Sub! Reader, Reader is a little shy, Fingering (r!receiving), Choking (r!receiving), thigh grinding, lotsa groping, Abby is a bit of a sadist, begging, healthy combination of praise and degradation.
Word Count: 3k.
A/N: This is my first time posting smut so please be so nice to me lmao
Days at the outpost all seemed to tangle themselves together, familiar views and familiar routines lending to the rhythmic lull of the days as they passed. The only difference this morning from the last three was the clear sky overhead, beams of sunlight casting the room in an early morning glow. Without the heavy canopy of clouds and the persistent drizzle of rain, you could see the mountain range through the large glass windows, a sight you would’ve appreciated more if you weren’t desperate to go back to sleep. Abby snored softly in the cot next to you. The rise and fall of her chest and the warmth of her arms holding you in tightly to her are so comforting you’re reminded how easy it would be to just close your eyes and drift off again. You wonder how long you could ignore the radio check-ins before someone would come looking for you both, longing to live in the blissful moment you were sharing. The little bits of domestic life you created together had brought pockets of warmth to otherwise chaotic and endless days. You held onto them fiercely where you could, allowing yourself to pretend, if only for a few seconds, that this peaceful instance was all there was. No war and sickness just outside your doors, only the woman you love sleeping soundly next to you, and you safely held in her arms.
The radio, however, had other plans as it often does; the crackle of static cutting through the quiet.
“How’s it looking over there this morning, over?” Nora’s voice sounded tired, even blurred across the radio waves. You groan, pulling the blanket back up to your chin and closing your eyes tight. Maybe you could just dream this away, afford yourself a few more moments. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long; the static came through again, and with it another question.
“Hello? Checking in, everything alright? Over,” Nora sounded clearer now, and the guilt panged as you realized she was probably worried; you also knew she wasn’t going to stop until she heard an answer. You untangled yourself from Abby as best you could, doing your best not to disturb her, still earning a low whine from her in response.
You push yourself up from the cot, the floor far too cold even on your socked feet, and quickly glance down at the cityscape below you. Not seeing anything immediately out of the ordinary, you pick up the radio to respond.
“Everything looks good over here, how’s it over there?” You answer her finally and her reply comes quickly.
“It’s looking good. We had some Scars pass through last night, but we handled it; hope you enjoyed sleeping in. Oh, and you didn’t say over, over,” She scolds you, but her tone lacks any of the edge required for you to feel in any way she means or cares about what she’s chastising. Nora liked being right; she also liked bickering with you; thankfully, the feeling was mutual.
“Would’ve enjoyed it more if you gave me five more minutes, and I didn’t say over 'cause it’s stupid, over,” you shoot back. Even across the city, you can just picture her heavily rolling her eyes at you, suppressing the grin you know she’s holding back.
“You suck, check in later, over,” The radio crackles to a hush, and in its place a snort sounds from behind you. Looking back, you see Abby sitting up, an entertained smile dancing across her lips. You shrug your shoulders.
“I stand by it; it’s stupid,” You say, doubling down on your statement and taking the moment to set the radio back.
Abby makes a small sound of agreement, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes before stretching her arms above her head. You watch as the fabric of her tank top rides up, exposing her well-defined ab muscles and the little happy trail leading below her sweats. You don’t bother hiding your ogling of your girlfriend. Not even as the shirt falls back in place and you drag your gaze up to meet her eyes, fatigue still written across her beautiful face. Her hair hangs messy around her shoulders, one of the few moments it isn’t pulled out of the way. She’s breathtaking for someone having just woken up, maybe even more so because of it. You watch as her eyes narrow a bit before she rolls them and pulls her glance away from you.
“Pervert,” She mumbles, and you can’t help but laugh, the sound of it drawing her attention back to you; despite her feigned irritation, she still reaches her hand out to you, signalling for you to join her back in the cot. You take it without any hesitation, settling down in the space next to her, as she lazily drops her head on top of yours, cuddling you into her side.
“You can’t blame me for being a pervert; it’s not my fault you’re too hot for your own damn good. I think actually you should be praising me for getting anything done around you.” You tease her.
You feel her arm snake its way under your shirt and around your waist to pull you in closer. Her head lifts, and her lips brush the shell of your ear, her nose nudging gently into your hair.
“You want me to praise you, hm? I’d bet you like that,” She murmurs as you feel her lips graze lower against the sensitive skin of your neck, pressing a teasing kiss there. She drags the kisses down as your head falls to the side, a breathless gasp escaping you when her kisses land on the crook of your neck and you can feel her teeth gently sink into the delicate spot there. Her fingers brush your side, higher and higher each time, sending sparks through you. Suddenly her bite becomes harsher, as she sucks the skin in between her teeth; the sound you make only encourages her to go harder. She pulls back eventually, leaving a pretty purple hickey blooming against your flesh, and kisses over it before she comes back up to speak in your ear again.
“I asked you a question,” She insists, her voice coming out low and husky, still heavy with sleep but now carrying much more delicious intentions. You can feel the heat creeping across your cheeks as you turn your head, burying your face into her neck. You mumble an objection against her skin. You’d been with Abby long enough; you’d think after all this time you wouldn’t still get shy. Abby would be lying if she said that flustered look of innocence that you wore whenever she came onto you wasn’t incredibly attractive to her.
She pulls herself back a bit from you, her calloused hand coming up to grip your jaw as she forces you to face her. You look up at her through thick lashes, a minor pout to your lips. The sight of it only makes her picture all the things your sweet lips can do for her. She pushes away her distracted thoughts; she had asked you a question after all. She lifts her brow and gives you a pointed stare, a look that conveys that she’s unwilling to repeat herself and expectant of an answer.
“I like it when you praise me,” You mumble again. Abby loved making you say exactly what you meant, what you wanted. The subtle humiliation of how easy it could be for her to gain submission from you only spurred her on, a game she played: how quickly she could turn you into a flustered mess for her. The knowledge that this was inevitably how it was going to end, with you melting into her hands, did nothing to soothe the needy ache beginning between your thighs.
“Good girl, see that wasn’t so hard.” She all but purrs, her hand sliding up you, her other hand coming up your other side before she quickly pulls you into her lap. She moves you so easily, not a sign of effort from her, just pulling you however she wants you. You’re used to this by now, but it does nothing to slow down your racing heart as your legs fall apart to straddle her strong thigh, slotting into place together like you’ve always been meant to be there.
“There, now I can see you properly,” She muses, her hand gripping your face again, just enough to feel your cheeks squish slightly under her fingers. Not truly rough, not yet. She tugs you forward, meeting you partway and presses her lips to yours. Her other hand sinks back under your shirt again, not bothering to tease anymore. Her diligent fingers are quick to grope at your tits, taking a break only to pinch and roll your nipple between them. Your lips part in a moan, and she takes the opportunity for her tongue to move against yours, the kiss growing more frantic as your need builds.
You try to keep some semblance of composure, but as she shifts and her thigh presses against your sensitive core, you can’t help but grind down to meet it. You don’t stop, rocking your hips and chasing the building feeling of pleasure that sparks through you. Her hand comes to your ass, squeezing at it, letting you control the pace for a few blissful moments. Her other hand comes up to grip the back of your hair, pulling her lips away from yours. She watches with a smirk as you whine, trying to kiss her again, but she’s holding you firmly in place. Her hand on your ass comes to your hip, holding you still there too. It only makes you whine more, a desperate pout coming across your features.
“Shirt off,” She orders, watching you expectantly.
“Take it off me yourself,” You huff, irritated that she’s stopped you so suddenly. She quirks her brow at you again, clearly displeased by your lack of manners. There’s a beat of silence, both of you sizing the other up.
“Fine,” She concedes, but the look on her face is anything but surrender.
Her hands are on you faster than you can think to react, gripping the bottom of your sleep shirt and pulling it over your head; in the same movement, she leverages the position against you. Managing to grab both your wrists and, in one swift move, push you back onto the bed, one of her hands holding both of yours and pinning them above your head and the other coming to grip the column of your throat while she comes into view over top of you. The smug smile on her face and the look in her eye are so deliciously devious as her fingers press against your neck, making it harder to take in air.
“Say you’re sorry for being a brat, and I’ll think about touching you again,” She threatens, looming over you. You squirm against her hold, trying to free yourself enough to speak clearly. Yet every time you try to open your mouth to answer her, she squeezes harder.
“Come on, baby, don’t you want me to make you feel good? Feel my fingers inside that greedy little cunt of yours, hm?” She coos, sadistic pleasure evident on her face as she watches you writhe, growing more desperate; trying once more to gain friction against her thigh, but she keeps herself just out of reach.
“You look so pretty like this, so needy for me,” She says, and the hand pinning yours slides down to grab at your tits again. You take the opportunity to reach down, pushing at her forearm, trying to get her to loosen up her grip enough for you to speak, your head starting to swim.
“Arms up,” She orders, and this time you don’t argue, putting your arms back above your head and letting her continue toying with you. She pinches your nipples, rolling them between her fingers, before letting her head fall just enough to suck one into her mouth, her tongue flicking against the sensitive bud. She feels the way your hips grind down, so desperate to be touched, the way your back arches. She trails kisses across your chest, taking breaks to suck dark hickeys across the soft skin. She pulls away only when you’re well marked, satisfied with her handiwork.
“Are you ready to apologize?” She asks, and you nod frantically, tears brimming in your eyes. You can't tell which you need more: her to touch you or her to let you breathe. Finally, she relinquishes the hold she has on your throat and watches in satisfaction as you take in a sharp gasp for air.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, please, please.” The pleading falls from your lips without a single thought. Abby having pushed any capacity to think of anything but her from your mind.
“Poor baby, were you trying to apologize that whole time? I’m so sorry I couldn’t hear you.” She pouts her lip in faux sympathy but her tone drips with condescension.
“Abby, please,” You ask further, your voice coming out as more of a whine than anything else.
“Please, what?” She asks as you reach your breaking point, the desperation inside you having simmered over into something hungry and overwhelming.
“Touch me, please touch me; I need to feel your fingers inside me. Just, fuck - baby, please.” You’re properly begging now, eager words falling off your tongue.
“Only cause you asked so nicely,” Abby kisses you once more, not wasting any time. The kiss grows rough, teeth and tongue as she pulls and bites at your lower lip between placating kisses.
She pulls away for a moment, leaving you ready to protest, but then her hands are running down your body, fingers pulling the fabric of your sleep shorts and underwear away in one smooth motion, and suddenly you’re totally exposed. The air is cold against the slick that’s come to coat your thighs, and the sudden exposure makes you press your knees together, but Abby is having none of that, her hands parting them again; spreading your thighs open for her to admire the sight of your dripping pussy with dark, lust-blown eyes.
“Fuck baby, so pretty for me,” She murmers, her strong hands squeeze you, her touch bruising. She traces a finger teasingly lower and lower along the inside of your now trembling thigh, your breath hitching when she finally drags it through your slick folds. You whine, hips rocking down, needing to feel her inside, needing more. Before you can open your mouth to continue your previous begging, she presses the digit inside you with ease, curling it up against that spot that always makes you so quickly unravel. The moan it pulls from you is filthy, making Abby smirk.
“I’m barely doing anything, baby,” She hums, leaning forward until she’s over top of you again, brushing her lips against yours while she presses in a second digit, kissing you to swallow the moan you make.
Her fingers pump into you roughly, bullying that sweet spot over and over; her lips trail all over your neck and down further to your tits while her other hand tangles itself in your hair. You’re covered in marks you’ll have to cover up, but that’s a problem for later. Besides, you’re not above doing the same, biting on Abby’s shoulder while your nails drag angry red streaks down her back. She hisses a bit at the scratch, but it just makes her fuck you harder, the wet sounds filling the room, intermingling with both your moans as she stretches out your tight cunt with her thick fingers.
“Abby-fuck, you feel so good.” You gasp; she grins down at you, her thumb swiping your clit, and you buck your hips up.
“You take me so good, baby, so good for me.” Her voice comes out raspy, the sound of it delicious and absolutely filthy.
You reach up to kiss her, feeling as she pulls her fingers out from you. You whimper at the loss of fullness, but instead she begins to swirl them around your throbbing clit. You squirm at the touch, unable to keep yourself from rocking your hips against the motion. Her free hand untangles from your hair to pin your hips down. She continues her movements, falling into that perfect rhythm, and you can feel the tight knot inside you ready to come undone.
“Baby, please, I’m gonna-” You cut yourself off with a loud cry, the pleasure overwhelming you.
“Cum for me, baby; make a mess on my fingers,” Abby murmurs, savouring the sting as your nails dig impossibly deeper into her back. She loves knowing she has you so lost in pleasure you can’t control yourself; doing anything to pull her deeper. Her head falls to the side, looking down at you through hooded lids, the exposure giving you the chance to sink your teeth into her neck, biting down to muffle your cries as your orgasm washes over you. She doesn’t stop her assault on your clit, carrying you through your orgasm, mumbling praise into your ear about what a good girl you were for her. Finally, your grip on her loosens, and you push her back just slightly, her touch now too much.
She pulls her fingers away, bringing them to her lips. You watch as she swirls her tongue around the soaked digits before sucking them into her mouth, cleaning the taste of you from them. She leans down, kissing you, watching satisfied as you try to catch your breath.
“You look so pretty, all fucked out for me,” She praises.
“You look so pretty all the time,” You counter. Abby grins before letting herself fall back into the pillows next to you, pulling you to rest your head on her chest. She brushes your hair back, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I guess we should probably do our jobs now, hm?” You suggest, although you sound like you’d rather do anything but.
“Or,” Abby muses, that same devilish look coming back, “Round two?”
“You want me to praise you, hm? I’d bet you like that,” She murmurs as you feel her lips graze lower against the sensitive skin of your neck, pressing a teasing kiss there.
