#rich!abby

Her dick slipped in and out of you relentlessly as you chanted her name, tears falling from your eyes from how good it felt.

"You like this?" She asked in your ear. The knot building in your stomach felt heavy, like a tub of ice cream. Her voice was sweet as caramel. Her panting was the cherry on top.

"Y-yeeahh." You managed to mutter out, your voice high-pitched. "M' gonna..."

"Come on, give it to me, baby." She commanded, and you instantly came. You were incredibly wet that night, so wet that you squirted all over Abby's strap, screaming louder than ever.

After some minutes you spent going to the bathroom, taking a pee, putting on some of Abby's T-shirts with no panties and washing your face, you came back to her bed where she waited for you, in short pajamas. You climbed onto her like a koala, wrapping your arms around her neck and your legs around one of hers. Some minutes passed while she just caressed your hair and you kissed her neck until you pulled back a little to look at her in the eye.

"Abby, will we be something?"

"Listen, I know you want this to be serious." She affirmed cautiously. You hadn't knew her for too long, so trying to guess what would she say next was practically impossible.

One way or another, you were afraid of what she would say next. Maybe she didn't like you? You didn't want her to go after spending a whole month with her and staying at her place at least twice a week.

"Mhm."

"But I don't think I can handle it. I'm too busy with work, and you know that." She excused herself, the guilt in her almost palpable as each word felt like a punch to your gut.

"So you just wanted to use me and throw me away like a broken toy?" Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you blinked rapidly.

"No, no, no, baby, listen." She seemed to instantly regret her choice of words and sat up too.

"Listen what? I don't want you to fuck me when you're free." You yelled at her, cracking your voice in purpose at the end of your sentence.

"We can have something casual if you want. But right now I'm really busy to-" The tears kept coming out of your eyes.

"No, I don't want to." Your voice came out of your mouth more high-pitched than usual and, honestly, it sounded like this was the worst day of your life.

"What if I pay you?"

"What?" You weren't sure you heard it well. This was kind of your goal, but you didn't expect her to offer it so easily. Plus, you wanted a rich girlfriend, not to be pampered like a whore.

"I'll pay you. Like a sugar baby. I won't be using you, I'll be giving you something in exchange." You acted like you had just started considering her offer.

"How much are we talking about?" You asked, still not convinced.

"Four thousands a month plus dates and gifts." Fine, this could work.

"You think that's enough for me after literally breaking my heart?" You asked coldly. You didn't feel exactly great using her this way, but you needed the money, didn't you? And, she in fact broke your heart

"Six thousands." You sighed and furrowed your eyebrows, pretending to be mad at her even if you were enchanted with the idea, and laid down next to her with crossed arms, facing the ceiling.

"I have some rules."

"Tell me."

"First, you can't be with someone else or I'll rip my eyes out of my head and kill myself in your front door step."

"Did you need to be that extreme?" She asked with a disbelief smirk.

"It's just so you remember it well." You smiled. "Second, you have to pretend you're my girlfriend in front of everyone. Everyone. And act like my girlfriend."

"I can do that."

"And third, don't treat me like a slut because I'm not one."

"I have the feeling you've done this lots of times before." She said with suspicion.

"Third rule." You reminded her in a warning tone.

"I didn't mean it in that way."

"Sure." You rolled your eyes and turned your back to her. She pulled you close to her, wrapping her big arms around your waist and forcing you to be the little spoon. "Hey!" You giggled.

"You shouldn't stay mad at me. It doesn't suit you."

"Fine, fine." You let yourself smile for once, wiping your tears.

"We'll go shopping tomorrow, okay?"

“Once again like it happens every year I thought I had more time. And then it’s October 18 again.”

Abby sits in a relaxed pose, wearing an oversized black Jordan basketball jersey. Her muscular frame leans comfortably into the chair, her fishtail braid draped over one shoulder, and her freckled face carries a calm confidence. The screen flickers for a moment, revealing split images of seven previous versions of Abby sitting in the same chair.

What’s your name?

“My name is Abby Anderson,” says 16-year-old Abby from 2019. Her voice is quieter, her posture slightly stiff. The video cuts to each successive year. “My name is Abby Anderson,” repeats 2020 Abby, her tone stronger. “My name is Abby Anderson,” echoes 2021 Abby, her confidence visibly growing.

Finally, it lands on 2024 Abby. She tilts her head, smirking as she meets the camera’s gaze. “Feels strange seeing all these old versions of me frozen in time,” she says smoothly. “I’m Abby Anderson”

“It’s October 18, 2019.”

“October 18, 2020.”

“October 18, 2021.”

Each date ticks by until it lands on the present:

“October 18, 2024.”

How old are you?

“i’m Sixteen,” says 2019 Abby, her voice almost tentative. The years scroll forward, her voice shifting slightly with each one: “Seventeen.” “Eighteen.” “Nineteen.” “Twenty.”

the camera lingers on 2024 Abby. “i’m Twenty-three,” she says simply, her smile easy but self-assured. “It’s a weird age.“

How many followers do you have?

“257,000,” says 16-year-old Abby, with a slightly bashful grin.

“1.2 million,” says 2020 Abby, a hint of surprise in her voice. As the years progress, the numbers skyrocket. “32 million,” says 2022 Abby, almost shrugging. “75 million,” says 2023 Abby, trying to keep her excitement in check.

The screen cuts to present-day Abby, who sits back, resting an arm casually over the chair’s edge. “120 million,” she says with a small smile. “It’s a big number. Still wrapping my head around it, honestly.” She pauses, her smirk turning a little teasing. “But hey, people like what they like, right?”

What’s the biggest thing that happened to you this year?

Abby takes a deep breath, her lips twitching as though she’s holding back a bigger smile. “This year… wow. I dropped my third album, went back on tour, and, uh… I won another Oscar.”

A clip of 2023 Abby flashes on the screen with the question: Are you going to win the Oscar this year?

“I don’t know,” 2023 Abby says with a laugh, rubbing her palms nervously on her thighs. “I’m hoping so, but I’m not gonna fall apart if it doesn’t happen.”

The camera cuts back to 2024 Abby, who raises a brow and smirks at the camera. “Well, I guess past me got her wish,” she says, her tone playful. “Two Oscars, actually. Overachiever much?”

What do you want to accomplish by next year?

On-screen, 2023 Abby tilts her head, thinking. “I wanna get into racing,” she says. “I didn’t do that yet. I want more tattoos. And I wanna do some reckless shit—like, adrenaline-rush, borderline-dumb reckless and…, have some good sex.”

Back to 2024 Abby, who laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Well, I did the racing thing. Still no tattoos—I swear I’ll get there one day. And reckless? Check.” She smirks, her gaze flicking to the camera. “As for the other thing… let’s just say past me would be proud. You’re welcome, Abby.”

How do you feel about the new album?

The clip from 2023 Abby pops up. “I’m almost done with it, and I think it’s gonna be cool.”

Back to 2024 Abby. “It’s more than cool,” she says firmly. “It’s raw, it’s real, and I love it.”

What artist do you want to collaborate with?

2023 Abby raises a brow. “No one,” she says bluntly. “I don’t like collaborating.”

The screen cuts to Abby, wearing a black oversized Jordan jersey and loose pants, stands beside you. You’re dressed in a bold, effortlessly cool style. Abby’s expression in the still is sharp, playful, and undeniably flirty as she gestures at you, her tongue lightly resting on her teeth, while you stand confidently next to her, unfazed and magnetic.

The present-day Abby smirks when the camera cuts back to her. “Funny how things change. I ended up working with [your artist name], and it was incredible. We put out Guess, and honestly, it might be the best thing I’ve ever done.” She leans forward, grinning. “It was… a lot of fun.”

She pauses, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “I mean, come on. Look at them.”

The tone shifts as Abby glances off-camera. Her body relaxes, her voice softening. “Alright,” she says with a slight grin. “You know what time it is.”

You step into frame, settling next to her with an easy smile. Dressed casually, you radiate warmth as you lean slightly into her space.

“Hey, Abigail,” you tease, nudging her with your shoulder.

She groans, rolling her eyes, though her lips curl into a faint smile. “You always do this,” she says. “Every damn year.”

“Of course,” you reply with a laugh, draping an arm around her shoulders.

The screen flashes to past clips of you and Abby: younger versions of you teasing 2019 Abby, 2021 Abby stealing glances at you, 2022 Abby barely hiding her grin as you step into frame.

You glance at her now. “It’s wild seeing all these little moments. Watching you grow up, watching how far you’ve come.” Your voice softens, genuine. “I’m proud of you, Anderson.”

Abby looks at you, her smirk fading into something more sincere. “Thanks,” she murmurs. “Means a lot coming from you.”

You break the tenderness with a laugh. “For the record, though, Abby was such a pain. I fell for her the moment we met, and she spent years rejecting me.”

Abby rolls her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “Alright, fine. I was clueless, okay? But hey, look at us now.”

You smile, your gaze softening. “Yeah. Still love you, Abigail.”

She groans again, shaking her head. “Stop calling me that.”

The video fades to black, the sound of both your laughter lingering as the screen displays:

“See you next year.”

Abby came into your life suddenly and you wouldn’t have it any other way. It was almost as if the universe had heard your prayers and sent a guardian angel into your life. The second you saw her, you felt your knees get weak and every cliché stereotype come to life.

When you met her in person for the first time you had gone to breakfast at a diner near her college, pancakes for her sweet tooth. She was not only the most gorgeous woman you had ever laid your eyes on, glistening muscles and all, but you both clicked immediately. With her, the words flowed, and getting lost in conversation was easy. The way your stomach had butterflies around her was jarring, something you hadn’t felt since you were a kid with your first love. Texting and FaceTime calls almost immediately became a constant and you shared each other schedules to plan around your college classes.

For the first few months of your relationship, you hadn’t ever went to Abby’s apartment. You knew that she had one and she had a one bedroom, extremely impressive for a college student, but that was really it. Money was never really a topic of conversation either, so imagine your shock when you found out she was loaded. You had figured she was doing pretty well since she was always insisting on paying for dates and you were glad because honestly, you couldn’t really afford to keep going. But going back to her apartment after she took you to a Broadway show, your jaw dropped before you even got into the elevator.

Walking in, she greeted the doorman and instantly you felt kind of down on yourself. You had had her over at your dorm and now insecurity started to push at every angle in your brain. Still, you pushed it down and followed her up. She was being funded by her lawyer mom and brain surgeon dad until she was able to work as a doctor, she explained. The apartment was absolutely beautiful, and modernly decorated, with stainless steel appliances and a fully stocked fridge. It was perfectly clean, with not a speck of dust and certainly no vermin or bugs, unlike your childhood home. The nice soap alone could have brought tears to your eyes.

Why would she like me? I’m not on her level at all! Your brain taunted. Abby seemed oblivious to all this and put a smile back on as her she showed you around the apartment. She brought you to her bedroom and your jaw nearly dropped. Her bed was possibly the most comfortable looking bed you had ever seen, several thick plush blankets with two huge pillows. You wanted to cover up your insecurity with a joke about what you could you do in the bed but no joke came.

“Your apartment is so beautiful,”

“Thanks.” Abby said with a slight tinge of awkwardness in her tone.

“Is there something wrong? You got quiet.”

“No, no. Definitely not.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s just so nice. I kind of wish I didn’t show you my dorm now.” You said, reflecting on your tiny room. Something was always broken and everything was put back together with the shittiest of quick fixes.

You studied her face as she responded, wondering if she had judged you in the past. It didn’t seem like it and it definitely didn’t seem like she was judging you now. She invited you to sit on the bed with her and laced her hand in yours. You had gotten so close to her in only a 6 months, it seemed like such a short amount of time now and you even agreed on moving in together after your lease at your dorm was up.

“I don’t know how I had never come over before. What, you hiding it from me?” You attempted to tease. Abby laughed,

“I’ve spent so much time studying for the MCAT, the library was more my home than here.”

“Right. How does it feel to be finally done?”

“Weird. I honestly feel kind of old because in 4 months I’ll be a senior in college and then I’ll be in medical school.” You flopped on your back and let out a sigh. She laid down next you and shamelessly admired you. Your cheeks flushed and Abby giggled.

“I hope you’re not ruminating.” She said.

“Maybe a little bit.”

“Can you talk about it? I can practically see the wheels turning in your brain.”

“It’s the same as I said before, everything here is just so nice. It’s nowhere near what it was like for me growing up. The fact that you have soap that hasn’t been watered down several times to make it last longer makes me want to cry. Having soap shouldn’t make me cry.” Abby’s features softened and lightly caressed your face with the pads of her fingers.

“I’m so sorry baby. I have a lot of privilege, there’s no denying that and if it hasn’t been obvious enough I want to share what I have with you. I love you and you deserve more than I could ever give you.” Your eyes teared up and she wiped away a tear as it fell. You rushed to get closer to her and let her strong arms hold you as you cuddled.

“I don’t have words to express how much I love you. Things are going to get better one day. I mean fuck, they already have.” You said. A moment of comfortable silence passed until you suddenly turned to her,

“You can bet your ass one of the first things I’ll be buying with my paycheck from my adult job is some lacy panties. Lavender ones too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You said.

“How about you make forget all about my shit and top me into this comfortable ass bed?” Abby let out a laugh.

“How could I ever say no?”

"But Abbyyy" You whined at the phone, half an hour before the dinner with your parents.

"No. I already told you, I'm busy." Her voice was stern from the other side of the call.

"You promised you'd come before being "busy"" You made air quotes with your right hand, even if she couldn't see you.

"Listen, I'm the one who should call you and you're the one who should come, not backwards." She explained.

"You're the one who shouldn't cancel a dinner with my parents, too!" You yelled at her.

"I didn't choose this work." She sighed.

"Oh, you're not working."

"I am." She took a sip of her freshly brewed coffee and coughed because it was too hot. "Shit." She mumbled under her breath.

"You're with some whores, I'm sure." You suspected, completely sure that what you heard was how she drank some strong kind of alcohol.

"What? Are you high or something?" She said, sobbing her throat.

"You know what? Don't come to the dinner. It's over. Don't ever call me again." You shouted, but oh of course you weren't for real. Every time you acted like that it took her minutes to say sorry to you in her knees.

"You're being dr-"

You hung up.

A few minutes later, she texted you.

Abby my gf

(7:50 p.m.) Doll

(7:50 p.m.) I'm coming to your house.

(7:50 p.m.) Send me the location to the restaurant, I'll drive you.

(7:50 p.m.) Don't even bring your wallet.

Taglist: @elliessgfsstuff @giuliaexe66 @playboygirlsnextdoor00

@justhereforthosefics @brackishkittie @joanvisitsrome

Maybe she was gay. No, she had to be gay. Maybe she was the kind of girl that liked spoiling young girls like you. She had to be.

She wasn't only pretty, she was putting stuff into her bag like nothing. All the perfumes and lotions she saw, everything. And let's just say you had a thing for rich girls.

She came closer to the register where you were, biting your lip slightly until you noticed she was right in front of you and snapped out of it.

"Seems like I'll eat well this week." You joked as you scanned the barcodes of the products, causing her to chuckle.

"You're funny." She said with a cocky grin, looking at you with those gorgeous blue eyes.

"Thank you." You smiled, feeling the apples of your cheeks reddening. After a little bit, you spoke again. "So who's the lucky girl?"

"What makes you think this is not for me?" She asked teasingly.

"You didn't even look what you were putting in your basket." You said with a little smirk before noticing how much of a stalker you must have sound.

"I'm single, if that's your question." She said with a chuckle as you put all the products in a bag, trying to hide the smile in your face.

"How will you-"

"Card." She interrupted you, holding you a card. You swiped it in the card reader, and you examined the card for a while, looking for her name.

"I like your name, Abigail."

"You can call me Abby."

You wrote down your number on the ticket and put it inside the bag.

"Please, text me, Abby." You almost pleaded with your most sultry voice, handing her the full bag.

"Trust me, I will." She said with a wink before walking out of the store, leaving you staring her up and down before you lost her from sight.