#sorry !!!!

she's ego-filled, maniac tendencies dripping from her well-manicured fingertips, but abby anderson truly knows how to fuck. for most, it's a death sentence waiting to happen. each time, she grows more fond of the all the ways you used to tell her no. sacred sin spills like a treasured scripture, fresh ink drying on the scroll.

purpose for salvation — she gives a new meaning for the revelations. a god among it's creation to save the proclaimed self-righteous but the sinners are just as fallen as the saved. begging for a second chance. an overflow of mercy to be redeemed and you’d rather be drowned in the blood of a wolf than to follow the mindless sheep.

a woman who is taken, unavailable — fucking a rockstar who hits on her at a rundown, middle of nowhere bar you hadn’t even bothered to remember the name of. blonde-headed and tall. someone beautiful, hot and the muscular drummer who happened to know to bring the edge. the rhythm onestage spilling in your lower lips, splitting you however she pleases.

debauchery twisted when her lips kiss yours for the first time. the first fuck haunts you more than you wish it did. and the love you keep under lock and key for her threatens to unravel each time. the only thing holding it together was some semblance of love you had for your girlfriend.

it’s what keeps you away for four months, trying to be good, you tell yourself when you picture oceanic eyes and a field of freckles making home behind your mind each time you come. a memory of how wonderful she made you feel, it keeps you awake but crushes you in the wake of her absence.

one you dissolved your conscious of but you still miss her. and it brings you here, back in her arms — outside her favorite bar, tucked in the midnight shadows of the alley she hides you in.

“pretty popstar you are. where’s your pretty starlet actress girlfriend now?” you clench your jaw, the muscle spasms yet you make no effort to stop her double-digit efforts. “maybe the rumors are true.”

degradation sinks in, a thirsty vampire begging to feed, and the pain they bring is a temporary inconvenience. she might as well be. abby knows how to suck you dry but she chooses to leave you alive.

only enough to punish you.

“would you just shut up the fuck up and fuck me?” the words slip before the opportunity arises to catch them. the silence deafens.

“i know you didn’t just say that to me.” abby tuts, her fingers gliding along your bare stomach, the fabric brushed into your ribcage. “here i am, being generous and fucking my good girl, and you tell me to shut the fuck up.”

there’s contemplation resting behind sorrowful eyes but there’s a rightfully-placed pride. to a certain degree, she likes when you push your luck, as long as you don’t push too far.

“baby—”

“nuh uh, we’re past that.” abby drops her lips branch your ear and whispers, “for that, i’m not touching you. in fact, touch yourself. i want to watch.”

even though ever fiber of your body wants to defy her, leave her in the alley begging and waiting for you — that’s not how this works. it’s her call you answer. it’s you who wants to be fucked with her pretty thick fingers and the power of her hips pinning your cunt with hers. without fail, you’ll come running each time.

from the false belief of this being the last time dies when she won’t touch you. abby knows it’s what you need. every ounce of her and not having fingertips glide along your petal of folds, lips that blossom for her, is a justifiable death sentence.

without giving it a second thought, you sink your fingers in her cunt, moaning as she applies pressure to your hips — a fail safe mercy. her touch sinks in the dips of your skin, coaxing you into her mayhem.

“good girl. now put another inside, princess. you know i always make you come with three.” abby teases, her pierced-tongue glides along the your hollowed throat, nipping at your collarbone. the hued-bruising that may or may not appear if she continues to suck.

“i miss your fingers, it doesn’t feel as good.”

“you should have thought about that before you mouthed off.” abby claims your mouth, you’re her property and she’ll remind you if she has to. "now you'll just have to focus on the sound of my voice...whispering your ear telling you exactly how to fuck your pussy. the one that will forever belong to me."

"fuck, it's yours. always yours."

the immediate compliance rings true, she basks in your submission and woefully angles her head enough to push down the fabric, perky-nipples pebbled while her tongue glides over the sweet surface. abby bathes them in attention, her fingers pinching the lone breast not recieving the privilege of her mouth.

with each glide of her tongue you’re brought closer to the edge. all self-control lost and you drown in the salvation of her touch, begging for the lips tucked between your thighs to spill white snow in the heat of a blazing summer.

“Eddie,” you whisper, your hands fluttering around from his face to his neck to his stomach. “Eddie, baby, fuck. Don’t do this. Come on.” 

He grinned at you, teeth red. You wanted to vomit. “Hey, princess,” he managed, and you smiled back at him weakly. “What’s with the cryin’, sweet thing? You watch Dumbo without me again?” 

You huffed a laugh, tangling your fingers with his and pressing them to your mouth. “You did so good, Eds,” you said, Dustin nodding enthusiastically beside you. “That was metal as hell, baby. You were so brave.” 

Eddie snorted, before groaning at the effort. “Yeah, well,” he said. “I always had it in me.” He looked up at the sky, before squeezing his eyes shut. “Babygirl, do me a favour?” 

“Anything,” you said instantly, and he cocked one eye open to shoot you an unimpressed look. “Absolutely anything, Eddie.” 

He wriggled his hand out of your grip, and pulled off one of the rings, handing it to you. “Managed to get it all the way to Mount Doom,” he said to Dustin, and you let out what was supposed to be a laugh before it was overrun by a sob. “Now, listen, princess. You’re gonna go back, okay?” 

You nodded. 

“You’re gonna go back to the Shire, and you’re gonna, fuck, I dunno. Marry Rosie Cotton and become mayor of the Shire four times and have like a million cute hobbit children.” You were laughing again, the hot tears curling into your mouth. “And you’re gonna tell everybody that you knew the most metal man that ever existed.” 

You nodded again. He beamed at you, the same way he always did. “Raise ‘em on rock and roll and the Rings,” you agreed, and let him slide his ring onto your finger. It was sticky with blood, but you pressed your mouth to it, smiling around the band. “This what I think it is, Edward Munson? You wanna marry me?” 

He winked. “I do. Got a witness and everything,” he said, waving at Dustin. “I know it’s not exactly how you might’ve pictured it, but–” 

“It’s perfect,” Dustin said quickly. “It’s perfect.” You found yourself nodding at Eddie again, watching as he stared at the way the ring sat on you. “You may, uh, kiss the bride, I guess.” 

You launched yourself toward Eddie’s mouth, ignoring the blood, and tried to tell him everything you’d always wanted to say. You kissed into him the curly haired kids you’d dreamed about, the long nights, the baby-sized fists wrapped around a guitar fretboard. How you’d repair his shirts and read out loud to him before he went to sleep, how he’d wake you slow and gentle in the morning, how you’d go together into the world, him leading and you following because that’s all you ever wanted to do. 

“Dreamed of this moment,” you mumbled against his mouth, and his breath hitched. “Maybe not exactly like this. But Dustin was there.” 

“Kinky,” Eddie muttered back, and you laughed again, pulling yourself away. “I love you, princess. You know that.” 

“I do,” you responded, and pressed another kiss to his mouth, pulling your jacket off to wrap around him. “I’ll come back for you,” you found yourself saying, as Dustin started to pull you away. “Sam comes back for Frodo. To the undying lands. He sails back and they see each other again.” 

He grinned at you, smiling through the tears. “I’d like that.” Eddie looked at Dustin seriously. “Get her out of here, Henderson. I want to see my girl all in one piece, when I do see her.” 

“You will,” you promised, Dustin dragging you backward. “Eddie, you will, I swear. Eddie, please, god, Dustin fuck off, Eddie–” You were struggling as Dustin continued to pull you, and your boyfriend smiled at you. “Eddie, please, Eddie, I love you.”