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atomicami · 4 months

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comfort crowd

boyfriend’s mom!abby anderson x fem!reader

- summary: you’ve been dating your boyfriend for 2 years now, until all of a sudden he starts to act differently around you. one night, you come over to his place to see him, only to discover that he’s out cheating on you with another girl. as a result, you receive comfort from the person you’d least expect—his mother.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, older/milf!abby, age gap (reader is 20, abby is 38), reader is in college, owen (he is mentioned a lot but does not make an appearance), mentions of past teen pregnancy, abby and owen are divorced, infidelity/cheating, reader has her first intimate experience with a woman, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), squirting, scissoring, slight edging, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else

- author’s note: it’s finally here, sorry this one took me so long…i’ve been a bit nervous to do this pairing but it did win the poll i posted a while back so yeah…i also have to say that this fic took a lot of work and effort for me to write out, so i really hope y’all enjoy it 🤍

You were wishing that your suspicions about your boyfriend weren’t true.

A little over two years ago was when you first met Andrew Anderson-Moore. It was during your senior year of high school and your family had just moved to the city as a result of a job offer that your father had received. Having to start over at a new school was scary for you, but meeting Andrew made that experience a little better.

The two of you connected instantly, and it didn’t take long for you both to start dating and make it official. On your first month anniversary of being together, you two decided to introduce each other to your families. You brought Andrew to meet both of your parents first, and he brought you to meet his dad first before meeting his mom a week later.

Now you’re in your third year of college, still maintaining your loyalty towards him, and you still keep in touch with his parents as well, preferably with his mom, Abigail.

You enjoyed being with Abigail just as much as you did with your boyfriend. She was always so attentive and caring towards you, she treated you as if you were her own. Ever since Andrew had introduced you to her, you’d always make sure to be formal towards her no matter what, even though she could truly care less about it.

“Hi, Ms. Anderson, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell her kindly, removing yourself from your boyfriend’s embrace to shake her hand.

She flashes a smile back at you as she shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart, there’s no need to be so formal though,” she tells you.

“Oh I’m sorry, Abigail—“

“Abby.” She corrects you. “Abby is just fine.”

You simply nod at her in response.

“Alright then, Abby.”

After dinner had passed that day, and you were bringing all the dishes to the sink to wash them, you ended up overhearing Abby say this to her son:

“Make sure you treat her well, Andrew. She’s a sweet girl, definitely a keeper.”

Even though you figured that Abby would be nothing more to you than your boyfriend’s mother, the way she said that to Andrew made you feel unusual inside…But you figured that you were feeling that way simply because it was just a genuine compliment from her.…right?

Since that day, you’ve been close with Abby since then, and Andrew has managed to treat you like royalty.

That is…until a couple of weeks ago when he arrived back from a guy’s trip with his father. You began to take note of the suspicious behavior he’s been having towards you lately. The way he’d hide his phone when he’s around you, how he’d avoid eye contact with you when you ask him about things, and how he’d leave every so often without telling you. It eventually got to the point where you needed to go and address it to him.

And that’s how you got here right now: sitting in your car in the driveway of his mom’s house on a gloomy Saturday night.

You muster up the courage to grab your bag and exit your car before locking it and walking the few steps over to the front door. After taking a deep breath, you step forward and knock on the door. Hoping it would be him answering the door, you’re quick to see Abby answer it instead. “Hey sweetheart,” she says to you. “What are you doing here so late?”

You look up to see Abby looking down at you with a soft smile. She was still in her scrubs with her white coat in her other hand, and with a bunch of little blonde flyaways sticking out of her hair. It looked like she had just gotten back from her shift at the hospital.

“Oh, Ms. Anderson…I was wondering if Andrew was here, by any chance? I need to talk to him about something.” you ask her, praying the answer would be what you’d expect it to be.

Abby let out a sigh and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart…Owen dropped him off this morning and he left the house right before I was about to leave for work. I honestly thought he’d be spending the day with you today.”

Although Andrew was an adult now, he still managed to make visits between his mom and dad. Abby and Owen have been divorced for years now, but at the very beginning, they were once dating as high school sweethearts. It wasn’t until Abby had gotten pregnant from him during her senior year, and as a result, he’d figured the best and most traditional way was for them to get married after graduation.

Things were good for the couple so far…until one day, shortly after Andrew’s first birthday, Abby had gotten home early from school only to find her husband in bed with another woman, which instantly led to them getting divorced with joint custody of their son. She felt like she should’ve been hurt and heartbroken about that, but for some reason she just…didn’t. It was almost as if she was falling out of love with Owen anyway, and his cheating was just the sign for her to divorce him.

Even though Abby was the victim in that situation, she didn’t want to tell Andrew about it so as to not damage his relationship with his father. Instead, she made sure to raise him to be a loyal, trustworthy man, just so he wouldn’t end up turning out to be just like his father.

She raised him to make sure that he wouldn’t end up hurting you.

You let out a sigh, looking over at your car before back at her. “Alright, um, I’ll just head out, then…”

As you were about to leave, you felt Abby’s hand gently grab your shoulder, causing you to turn around. “Hold on, um…would you like to come inside? I can’t have you driving around in this awful weather, maybe you can just wait for him in the meantime, yeah?”

You hesitated for a moment, but to be fair, Abby did have a point. It’s been storming so much these days, and based on the few drops you felt land on your shoulder, it seemed like it was going to happen again tonight.

You give Abby a nod, accepting her offer. She steps over to the side, clearing the way for you to enter inside before closing the door behind you.

“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Abby offers, gesturing you towards her couch. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and order some takeout if you’d like? I uh, don’t plan on doing anything tonight…” she continues, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

You nod back at her and set your bag down on the couch before sitting yourself down. “That’s alright with me…Thanks again, Ms. Anderson.”

“Abby, sweetheart,” she replies, correcting you.

“Right, thank you, Abby.”

You watch as she turns around and heads upstairs to her room. Once the shower turns on, you can’t help but get a feeling of deja vu passing through you, remembering that certain day like it was yesterday.

Now, the thought of being with a woman never really crossed your mind, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but find Abby to be so…attractive. You assumed it was just a silly little crush and set it aside because there was no way that Abby would see you as anything more than her son’s girlfriend.

But it wasn’t until about a month ago, that you decided to spend the night at Andrew’s place. It was around 1 am, and you had left Andrew’s bedroom to use the bathroom. As you were just about to go in, you couldn’t help but peek into Abby’s room as you were passing by.

The door of her bathroom was creaked open, the shower was currently running, and while Abby was undressing herself from her scrubs, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes fixed on her figure. Her back, her arms, her hands…you were feeling so attracted to her, to where a wave of arousal was hitting you instantly. You were getting so turned on by her in the way that you should be feeling towards her son instead.

Your gaze kept lingering on her, but once you noticed her blue eyes locking with yours, you quickly rushed back to Andrew’s room. This led you to have to wake up your boyfriend just to have sex with him, all with the sinful thoughts of his mother on your mind.

And even though neither you nor Abby brought up that incident the next morning, she had a strong feeling that those sounds that you were making that night were meant for her.

The sound of thunder startles you. You look out the window to see that it has already begun pouring outside. You were definitely going to be here for a while now, but you didn’t mind it. Abby always provided good company to you anyway.

You watch as the rain keeps pattering down, hitting the glass of the window. Your hand feels the vibration of your phone followed by a chime, causing you to look down at your screen and check the notification you just received.

Abby shuts off the water in the shower once she’s finished, making sure to keep it quick so as to not leave you waiting for so long. She then quickly changed into a shirt and sweatpants before shutting off the lights and leaving her bedroom.

As Abby began to head downstairs, she could hear a faint sniffling sound coming from the living room. It sounded like you were crying. This led to her rushing even quicker now to the living room, walking in to see you quietly crying, your dimly lit phone in one hand while your face was buried in the other, collecting all of your tears.

Concerned, she slowly began to approach you. “Hey, hey sweetheart…what’s the matter?” she asks calmly, sitting down next to you on the couch and placing a hand on your shoulder.

All you could do was shake your head in response. You were so choked up on your tears that you couldn’t even speak. You felt Abby get closer to you, trying to take a look at what was on your phone. You quickly hid it away from her, but it was too late. She had already caught a glimpse of the familiar figure that was on the screen.

Her hand makes contact with yours, trying to get ahold of your phone. “Let me see,” she tells you in a commanding, yet gentle tone.

You couldn’t help but give in, slowly loosening your grip on your phone, now letting her have it in her possession. Once the phone was in her hands she took a closer look at the screen, eyes widening in shock and disbelief. She couldn't believe what was seeing right now.

It was a picture of Andrew, her son, out at a party, with his lips attached to another girl’s, that clearly wasn’t his girlfriend.

Abby was just as shocked as you were. But she wasn’t just shocked. She was enraged, enraged at the fact that her own son had gone behind your back and hurt you like this. You were the sweetest, kindest soul she’d ever met, how could he, or anyone manage to break your heart with no remorse whatsoever?

Along with that, Abby couldn’t help but feel disappointed either. She spent the past twenty years raising her son to not be a cheat like his father was. But at that moment, after seeing that photo and the state you are in right now, she felt like she failed as a mother.

At that moment, she wanted to make things right.

Not only that…she wanted to make you forget about her son and make up for how he treated you.

Abby sets your phone down and reaches for her own that was on the coffee table. You try to stop her from doing so, knowing that she is going to call her son right now. “I-I tried calling h-him,” you choked out, grabbing at her forearms. “H-He didn’t respond.”

Abby gently shakes your hands away from her arms and grabs her phone before quickly unlocking it. “He’ll respond to me, sweetheart, trust me,” she tells you sternly, getting up from the couch and making her way back upstairs to her room before closing the door.

She was definitely right about that. It didn’t take long for you to hear the muffled shouting coming out of Abby’s room. Even through the thick walls of her house, you could hear her clear as day:

“Andrew, what the hell were you thinking?! Your girlfriend is here in my house, worried sick about you and you’re at a fucking party cheating on her with another girl?! I didn’t raise you to be like this. If you wanna keep this act up, then go stay with your father, Andrew. I don’t want you coming back here until I say otherwise.”

Despite that Abby was in your defense about this, you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed. You honestly wished you hadn’t come here in the first place. Even though it was storming harshly outside, you felt like the best thing was to just go home. This was the last place you wanted to be at right now.

Once Abby had finished talking on the phone, she then went back downstairs to the living room, only to see you heading towards the front door to leave. She quickly stops you before your hand grabs the doorknob. “Hey, where are you going? I told you it’s too dangerous for you to drive out there right now.”

You ignore her and make the effort to push her away and get to the door, but her strong figure wouldn’t budge at all. “I-I need to go, Ms. Anderson, I can’t—“ Your words get cut off as Abby begins to wrap her arms around you, enclosing your surroundings into a hug.

You couldn’t help but give in to her embrace, burying your face into her chest and sobbing into it, instantly staining the soft cotton of her shirt with your tears. The way you were acting right now was hurting Abby inside. It hurt her to know that her son was the one that caused your heart to break into a million pieces, especially knowing how much you loved him. She was willing to do anything right now to take that pain away from you.

“Listen, sweetheart…” She says, slightly pulling away to get a look at you. “I told Andrew to stay at Owen’s in the meantime, okay? You don’t have to worry about him coming here.” she takes another deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t raise my son to be like this, sweetheart…I’m sorry.”

You look up at her and shake your head in response. “I-It’s okay, Ms. Anderson, it’s not your fault…”

The warmth from one of her hands reaches your face, wiping the tears off of your cheeks “I’d like you to stay here for a bit, okay? I don’t want you going out in that storm and getting hurt…I can’t afford to lose what my son couldn’t keep.”

It was clear that Abby didn’t mean for that last sentence to slip, and she didn’t notice that she was thinking out loud until she saw your eyes widen in shock. You couldn’t help but wonder if Abby was having those same feelings towards you as well…

Your gaze shifts away for a second, and you quickly wipe the rest of your tears before looking back up at her. “As much as I’d like to, Ms. Anderson…I really don’t want to be here right now…Everything here just reminds me of him…”

You notice Abby hesitate for a moment. “Do you, uh, want to go to my room instead? Will that help?” she says, practically trying not to sound desperate. She resisted the need to beg for it, but if that was convincing enough for you to stay with her, she would be on her knees in an instant.

“Yeah…That would be a lot better, actually…”

Abby’s arm moves down to the small of your back before keeping you close to her side as you follow her upstairs to her bedroom, which was at the end of the hall. Before you go in, you couldn’t help but turn your head at the room you had just passed—Andrew’s bedroom. You were already thinking about having to eventually go in there and take your things out of his room. The thought of it was already making you sick.

Abby places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to get slightly startled before looking up at her. “You know you don’t have to go in there yet, right?” she assures you, squeezing your shoulder. “I can even get your things out of his room if you need me to.”

You simply nod and smile back at her as a silent ‘thank you’ before turning the knob of her bedroom and letting yourself in.

Upon entering, you realize how much Abby’s room differs from her son’s. Her room was painted in a shade of light blue, her bed was neatly made just as she had it in the morning. On your left, there was her dresser followed by some weights next to it, and on your right was the entrance to her bathroom. That same bathroom you had peeked into not that long ago.

“Your room is nice,” you tell her, your eyes still fixed on your surroundings. “Definitely a lot nicer than Andrew’s.”

Abby lets out a chuckle from behind. “Yeah, I know, he’s always been so unorganized.” she then hesitates for a moment before continuing. “However, there’s always been something in his room that mine doesn’t have…”

You slowly turn around to face her, noticing her starting to approach you. “What’s that?”

She stops in her tracks once she’s in front of you, gently placing her hand on your chin and lifting it up so you can see her.

“…you.”

A smile crept up on your face in reaction to her words. “Is that so? Well…”

You pause for a moment, looking at your surroundings before looking back up at her and leaning in, just close enough to where your lips were just inches away from hers.

“I like it better here anyway,” you whisper back to her.

And with that, Abby gives in and seals your words with a kiss, and you just can’t help but kiss her back. The both of you knew that this was wrong, Abby was your boyfriend’s mother for Christ’s sake.

But if it’s such a bad thing, why did it feel so good for the two of you?

You feel Abby’s hand in front of you, slightly pushing you back so you can sit down on her bed. Once you land on her bed, she drops down to her knees to your height, still maintaining her lips with yours before pulling them away momentarily to strip you down.

Her hands first meet with the hem of your shirt, gently tugging it upwards to get it off. You bring your hands up as she fully discards you from your shirt and toss it to the ground. As she now works on getting your jeans off, you unhook your bra and slowly remove it before tossing it next to your shirt.

Abby looks up for a moment, only for her gaze to linger at the mere sight of your topless self. “My god…” she says in awe, moving both of her hands to your tits. “You look so beautiful…I can’t believe he gets to see this…gets to touch this…”

With her hands still cupping your tits, she leans in to kiss one of them, causing a moan to escape from your mouth. One of her hands moves back to the button of your jeans, and she instantly gets them undone with just a single hand. Her mouth is soon off of your nipple followed by her other hand, now hardened just from the contact of her lips and fingers. You were easily getting so turned on by her, and she knew it.

However, now that your jeans were gone and your underwear was shifted to the side, you couldn’t help but stop her once she was about to dive in between your legs. “W-Wait…” you said, gently pushing her head away from your soaked cunt.

Abby paused her movements immediately, pulling her head away and looking up at you. “What? What is it?” she asks with some slight concern in her voice.

You hesitate for a moment. You genuinely don’t know how you’re going to be able to confess this to her.

“You, um…you don’t have to do it, i-if you don’t want to—“

“But I want to,” she replied firmly, instantly cutting off the rest of your words. “Do you not want me to?”

You shake your head quickly in response. “N-No, I do, I really do, I just thought—“

“Thought what? What did you think?” she asks you, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

It didn’t take long for Abby to get the message. She knew why you were being so hesitant about this. To her, it felt like she was one step away from finally being able to not only taste you but to give you the pleasure that you deserved. But to you, you couldn’t help but simply feel like a burden to her, just like how it was with her son.

“Wait a minute…Has Andrew not been doing this to you?”

Your gaze drifts off to the side, and she takes your lack of eye contact as a yes to her question.

Each of her hands was on your knees, and you could feel her tighten her grip on them a bit, but not to the point where it would hurt you. And even though you were looking away from her, you could see her shake her head in disbelief from the corner of your eye.

“I can’t believe him…” she mutters to herself with a sigh. “He really is just like his father.”

The warmth of her hand makes contact with the side of your face, tilting it back forward to face her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart…please let me make up for my son’s actions…let me give you the pleasure that you deserve. Will you let me do that? Please?”

You hesitate once again. The thought of having Abby give you even the slightest bit of pleasure felt overwhelming to you, but the fact that she was quite literally on her knees begging to do it to you turned you on even more. If anything, Abby was being more desperate than you were right now.

So you give in this time.

“Y-yes…” you whisper out quietly to her. “Go ahead…”

And with that, Abby’s hands meet together at the waistband of your underwear, fully pulling them down and off of your legs before spreading them even farther than before.

Her lips gently brush over your sensitive clit to kiss it, and the sudden contact causes you to involuntarily jerk back. You didn’t mean to do it, but it’s been so long since you’ve been touched before, that even the slightest touch on your pussy already makes you feel overstimulated.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Abby coos, gently squeezing your hips and bringing you closer to her face. “I’ve got you, just lie back and relax for me, sweetheart, okay? Nice and slow…”

You try your best to keep your cool right now, and even Abby tries to as well. It’s clearly taking everything in her to not just quickly dive into your pussy and devour you alive. But she knows how long it’s been for you. She knows that your body hasn’t been worshipped the way that it should be.

“God….you taste so good…sweetest little thing I’ve ever had…” she murmurs into your pussy, slowly increasing the speed of her fingers.

You couldn’t help but watch in awe at the sight of Abby right now. Andrew was never willing to even put his mouth near your pussy, while his mother here was on her knees eating you like a woman starved.

“Mmmh, g-go faster, please…” you quietly whine out to her, grinding your hips against both of her thick fingers that were inside you.

You didn’t need to say anything else for Abby to instantly obey your command. Her fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy even faster than before. They were going in so deep to the point where the tip of her middle finger easily tapped into your g spot, and you absolutely loved it.

Before you knew it, Abby’s fingers and mouth were going at an extremely rapid pace inside you, so fast to the point where you were gripping onto the edge of the bed to hold yourself down.

That feeling was quickly building up inside you now, you were going to cum at any moment. However, something about that feeling felt unusual to you. It was almost as if you needed to stop what she was doing to you.

So you do. You try to warn her, even grab at her wrist to slow down.

“A-Abby, wait—oh God—fuck!”

As much as you tried, you couldn’t warn her in time. Your body had already done its deed, your pussy uncontrollably squirting into her mouth and on her fingers as you reached your peak. The rest of your body felt limp, and your brain was feeling slightly fuzzy from your orgasm.

You felt Abby shift around in between your legs to stand back up, which led you to muster up the energy to sit up on the bed. Your eyes widen at the mess you’ve just created. Everything—Abby’s face, her clothes, her sheets, your legs—was all soaked with your release.

You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by it, quickly closing up your legs and bringing your knees to your face. “A-Abby, I’m so sorry I—I didn’t mean to do that…I tried to—“

“Hey hey, it’s okay sweetheart…Don’t feel bad…” she murmurs out to you, gently caressing your face with one hand while bringing both of your knees back down with the other. “Did it feel good?”

You nod slowly as she looks back down at you. “Yes, it did…Better than—”

“Better than him, right?”

“Yeah. Better than him.”

A smile flashes on Abby’s face as she leans in to kiss your lips, letting you taste a bit of yourself in the process. “Then you shouldn’t be sorry, sweetheart,” she tells you as she pulls away. “Lie down on the back of the bed, princess. I'm not done with you just yet.”

You simply oblige, sitting yourself up and scooting to the back of her bed, lying your head down on top of her pillows that were stacked in front of the headboard. You watch as Abby wipes her face and licks her fingers clean before stripping herself out of her clothes. Just like last time, you couldn’t help but admire her broad, muscular figure. And it wasn't just her figure, it was just everything about her. Her bright blue eyes, her freckled skin, her luscious blond hair…You just felt so mesmerized by her. You felt an attraction to her that just couldn’t compete with Andrew at all.

Your eyes follow her movements as she leans down over her bottom bedside drawer and opens it for a moment before shaking her head and closing it. It didn’t take much for you to be able to see the strap she owned, alongside the few other toys she had in there.

The weight of the bed soon shifts down as she hovers herself over you. “Are you…are you not gonna fuck me?” you ask her quietly.

Abby nods her head as she adjusts the pillows on the back of your head to make you feel more comfortable. “I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart, just not with those,” she says as she shifts back and begins to position herself in between your legs. “I'm gonna fuck you in a way that no man, not even my own son, could ever do with you. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly, eager to find out how she’s going to do this. However, you didn’t know what to do about it either. “Wait, but how do I—”

“You don’t have to do anything, okay princess? All you have to do is just look pretty for me while I do the work. Lie back and relax for me, just like before, yeah?”

You nod again, resting your upper body back on the bed as Abby continues to maneuver herself over you. She lifts up one of your legs and places it over her shoulder, and then brings her free hand down to her pussy and spreads her lips open with two of her fingers. You could easily see that she was just as wet as you were right now.

She then places her wet pussy on top of yours and you easily gasp at the newfound feeling of it. The way her lips molded perfectly against yours, along with how her arousal was practically dripping on top of your tight hole had you reeling.

“Oh fuck,” Abby mutters out, further pressing herself down on top of you. “Your pussy feels even better against me like this.”

Abby begins to grind her pussy against yours, causing you to moan over the friction. You understand that Abby wants to take her time with you right now, but God was she being so painfully slow with this. You were desperately craving for some more friction already, but you felt too shy to tell her. So you end up weakly grinding your hips instead.

“Whoa there,” Abby says, placing a hand on your hip to keep you steady. “Looks like someone’s eager for more…You want me to go faster, princess? Is that what you want?”

“Y-Yes, p-please Abby…g-go faster…” you whine out to her, continuing to grind against her pussy.

“Needy girl…” she mutters as she increases her pace. “Not even a minute with my pussy and she already wants more…I bet it feels better than any cock you’ve ever had, hm?”

All you could do at this point was babble and whine in response. The feeling of Abby’s wet cunt against yours was getting you easily drunk. You look down and watch Abby place a thumb on your hood, lifting it to expose your throbbing clit to her. She then placed her clit right on top of yours before grinding even faster than before.

The sudden overstimulation caused your eyes to flutter themselves shut and your head to tilt back in pleasure against the stack of pillows behind you. Your body soon starts to feel limp again and the familiar fuzziness in your brain soon returns again. At this point, Abby was practically using your pussy to get herself off. But as long as you kept feeling the delicious friction of her clit rubbing against yours, you didn’t mind at all.

Abby suddenly tightens her grip on your leg, leading you to open your eyes and look back at her. Her brows were furrowed in concentration with her gaze fixed on both pussies. You could hear her quietly whimpering to herself while the muscles in her abdomen were contracting and tensing up as she kept quickly grinding herself against your pussy.

At first, you couldn’t tell what she was trying to do with herself. But it didn’t take you too long to realize why her body was doing these things.

Abby was waiting for you to cum first.

You were at a loss for words at the moment. Andrew never cared about that. He would always be done the second he’d finish, meanwhile, Abby was sacrificing her own pleasure just to make you cum a second time.

“A-Are you close, sweetheart?” Abby moans out to you, keeping her hands firm against you as she continues to rub her pussy onto yours.

“Y-Yes, fuck—” you whimper back as you begin to quickly grind your hips against hers. “D-don't stop, Abby…m’so close…”

At this point, the noises that the two of you were making right now were borderline pornographic. Between your moans and whines with Abby’s grunts, along with the wet squelching sound of both of your pussies rubbing against one another, it's honestly surprising how you haven’t woken up the neighbors by now.

“Fuck, Abby—'m gonna cum, fuck!” you tell her as you grip the bedsheets while continuing to rub your clit with hers.

Within seconds, your pussy began to quickly clench around Abby’s while instantly cumming right on top of it. Once Abby felt that you were emptied out, she soon let her body relax before cumming onto your pussy as well with a broken moan.

Once the both of you have recovered from each other's climaxes, Abby presses a soft kiss to your ankle before gently getting your leg off of her shoulder and setting it back down.

Feeling drunk from your orgasm, you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, hardly feeling the movements of Abby cleaning you up and tucking you into a fresh set of sheets. Your eyes open back up again once Abby has her arm wrapped around you from behind. “Abby, that was…that felt amazing..” you whisper out to her.

Abby lets out a chuckle before gently kissing the back of your shoulder. “I’m glad I could make up for it, sweetheart,” she whispers back to you.

You turn your head around for a moment to face her. “Are you sure I can spend the night here with you?” you ask her shyly.

Abby smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss on your lips before responding. “Of course you can, sweetheart…you know I told him not to come back,” she reassures you, gently caressing the side of your face with her hand. “You’re in good hands with me, I promise.”

You smile at her before turning back around and pressing yourself closer to her as she keeps you tightly wrapped in her embrace. The security that Abby was giving you right now was more than enough to make you instantly drift off to sleep, secretly wishing that the night that you’d spent with your boyfriend’s mother could now last a lifetime.

And little did you know, Abby was also wishing the same thing too.

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deepouterspacecandy · 2 months

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Someone needs to kiss Abigail Anderson in the rain and I think that someone is you. 18+ only.

I don’t think Abby and her dad ever had The Talk per se.

In his eyes, he always regarded her as an incredibly perceptive and intelligent individual. She had her nose in a book for most of her youth and, given that doctors raised her, she had absorbed most of the medical knowledge pertaining to matters of sex and procreation of her own volition.

Sexuality as a whole rarely came up between them because they scarcely found a moment to broach the subject.

The Fireflies were a diverse collective, and Abby was no stranger to the concept of same-sex relationships. Her father had faith in their trusting connection, assuming that it would be a catalyst for her to confide in him whenever necessary.

When Abby entered the WLF as an orphan, she found herself a family in the gym. Her trainers, personal chefs, and comrades were the individuals she formed the strongest bonds with. It was through observing their relationships that she learned the rest. Despite the cringe-worthy locker room talk she’d ignore; she remained grounded in her strong sense of identity. Her sole focus was on transforming her body into a lethal weapon, leaving everything else irrelevant.

Then she saw you.

The second you stepped through those gates with your group, you grabbed her attention. Although she had never helped integrate newcomers before, she fully committed herself to facilitating yours. From the moment you met, you formed an instant connection, and as weeks turned into months, you became inseparable.

It took her some time to understand what she was going through, then it hit her all at once.

In the crowded mess hall, amidst the chatter of comrades, you brushed against her to whisper something casual in her ear. The delicate touch of your lips against the shell of her ear and the tender warmth of your breath against her neck gave her goosebumps. She didn’t register what you said as your hushed voice overwhelmed her with a rush of heat.

She kept it a secret from you for a while. You brushed off your suspicions and attributed them to hopefulness, mainly because she was so straightforward about everything else.

Abby spent many nights lying in her loft bed, gazing at the wooden panels above, plagued by the fear that her feelings were nothing more than loneliness and confusion. But then she’d recall the sensation of your whispered words in her ear, causing her heart to skip a beat and a dull ache to pulse between her legs.

As always, you beat her to the punch.

When you came out, it was during a late-night patrol with your squad. Seeking refuge from a nasty storm, you found yourselves holed up in an old barn. The group engaged in animated discussions about their desired post-war experiences, many of them sexual in nature.

As they directed the question your way, you playfully quipped that you’d be willing to part with a kidney just to feel the exhilaration of being lifted off your feet and kissed by the first gay woman to step foot in the stadium. You humorously mentioned that you would enjoy being spoiled with gifts, praise, and affection, but that you’d settle for someone to cuddle at the end of every day.

Your crew mocked you for being too wholesome, but your confession set Abby’s body on fire. As she watched the candlelight flicker in your eyes, a pang of possessiveness washed over her.

Her heart sank at the idea of another woman becoming your future.

When you slipped outside to do a perimeter check, she followed you into the rain.

“Don’t fall in love with someone else,” Abby blurted.

“Shit, Abby. You scared me!”

“Promise me,” she begged, reaching for your hands.

Rain poured down relentlessly and drenched you both as drops of icy water seeped through her eyelashes to gather in the groove of her lips.

“Everything you said—I want it too,” she continued. “Please don’t count me out, okay? Love me first.”

As you closed the distance between you, your fingers instinctively reached for the collar of her jacket, toying with the zipper-pull beneath her quivering chin.

“Are you calling dibs on me, Abigail?” you teased.

Shielding you from the storm, she gently placed the hood of your jacket over your head before her hands moved to cradle your jaw. The deafening sound of thunder filled the air, making the ground beneath your feet shake.

Above the noise, Abby’s voice echoed.

“Can I?”

As you nodded for her to take you, the sky opened up.

Abby lifted you into her loving arms, kissing you dizzy as her sweet whimpers made the whole world fade away.

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby x you #tlou abby #lesbian

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ranna-alga · 3 months

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I cannot stop thinking about Arthur and Mary and how truly tragic their love story is.

We know that a big reason why they couldn't be together was due to unfair circumstances. Despite Mary seeming internally conflicted about it all, it seemed like, at first, neither of them were willing to integrate themselves into each other's lifestyles and the consequences of that (Mary leaving her family behind and Arthur deserting the outlaw lifestyle), or at least in the first mission with Mary. But on the second? Mary takes back her word, almost impulsively, and says she is willing to run away with Arthur if it means they can be together. Despite the love and loyalty she has for her family (which mirrors Arthur's for the gang), she knows her family life will only continue to make her depressed, and being with Arthur makes her realise what she actually wants out of life.

And based on the implications of Arthur's words ("I want to. More than anything, I want to."), he may also be willing to even abandon the outlaw lifestyle. But he knows he likely can't. The one thing he fears the most is for the woman he loves more than anything else in the world is to be subjected to the violence that he is all too familiar with; he can deal with it if it's inflicted on himself as someone who grew up in such an environment, but Mary? He wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to her, especially when he likely already has an extreme amount of personal guilt for the deaths of Eliza and (especially) little Isaac, how he wasn't able to protect them.

But even at that, he promises to try. He's just as willing. He's willing to protect and look after her. He says they both need money, and he's willing to get it himself if it means they can abandon everything they once knew and start a new life on some newly-bought land. And what's so particularly painful is that you can just see the disappointment behind Mary's eyes at the mention of money... How, no matter what, money is always at the forefront of his mind, even if it seems valid on Arthur's end.

When she said "I'll write to you.", it seemed as if there was some hope left to be had on Arthur's end because at least they both have a chance now, right? But in my opinion, I feel like Mary was already mentally writing the final letter in her mind at that moment, and the time gap between that scene to the moment Arthur receives said letter was Mary desperately trying to put those thoughts into words on paper.

How must she have been feeling upon hearing about Arthur's death?

Imagine the life they could have had if things worked out. If they managed to run away and be happy together. Would their home be similar to John and Abigail's in the Epilogue? Would Arthur and Mary get married? What if they had children and Arthur got a second chance at being a father again, this time not being absent and being there every day, looking after his beautiful family with the woman he loves the most..?

Arthur deserved that life. Both him and Mary. And I think that's what made John and Abigail's ending in the Epilogue so much more impactful. Arthur may have died and Mary may have been elsewhere, but they lived vicariously through John and Abigail by living the lives they themselves deserved but couldn't have.

Hear that noise? That's the sound of my heart breaking.

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katakaluptastrophy · 2 months

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Instantiating the Trinity and the Second Resurrection.

I have spent way too long wondering what on earth was going on here:

G— on his way with the nuke. The ships on the launchpad, twenty hours to go now, less. So much waiting around. Me in my bedroom with a nun and a migraine, her thinking that if she pushed me enough we’d instantiate the Trinity and we’d all be saved. Everyone else drinking.

What on earth does "instantiate the Trinity" mean? What did the nun think she was doing? What did she think John was?

This happens in John 1:20. What is John 1:20 in the Bible?

And he confessed, and denied not; but confessed, I am not the Christ.

It's where John the Baptist is asked if he is the messiah and says that he is not.

But what other role does John the Baptist play in the Bible? As his name might suggest, he baptises. He baptises lots of people, but specifically, he baptises Jesus.

But before he does that, he's out in the wilderness prophesying the end of the world: he warns people of "the wrath to come" and criticises the corrupt authorities and those hoarding wealth and resources. He gets into some trouble with the authorities. All themes that either have or are about to become very pressing in John 1:20...

And then Jesus comes along to be baptised:

In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And when he came up out of the water, immediately he saw the heavens being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:9-11)

After all his prophesying and calling people to repentence, John the Baptist does something very specific. And suddenly God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are all seen together. The gospel passages describing Jesus' baptism by John are some of the key texts that underpin the Christian theology of the Trinity.

The nun has watched John warn people of the doom to come, criticise those who ignore those warnings and value wealth and power. She has watched him perform miracles. And as the clock ticks closer, she is waiting for his moment.

Just as John the Baptist proclaimed the beginning of Jesus' ministry, his actions tearing the heavens open and revealing the truth of God, does the nun expect some climactic action from John to reveal God at the end of days? The book of Revelation too describes heaven as standing open and the figures of the Trinity in action as the end of the world begins.

The nun thought John was a prophet whose decisive action would herald this opening of heaven, the revelation of God, and the end of the world.

When John says she thought "we'd all be saved", that doesn't mean global warming would be fixed, everything would go back to normal, and John and the gang would get tenure and posters of their faces. It means they would all be Saved. The world would end and they, followers of the prophet of the apocalypse, would be amongst "the blessed and holy who share in the first resurrection. The second death has no power over them, but they will be priests of God and of Christ and will reign with him for a thousand years." (Rev 20:6)

This might be starting to sound familiar. Abigail Pent talks about the horrors of a second death. John describes how he picked a worthy few to resurrect and be his followers...

John, of course, was not a prophet. He did not crack open heaven and instantiate the Trinity. He did not usher in the Kingdom of God. He did fundamentally fuck up the boundaries of metaphysics, declare himself god, and then proceed to badly plagiarise the Book of Revelation.

Because what happens next in the Bible may again sound familiar... After that thousand year reign, the Devil is released from prison. There's a final battle. And then, there's the second resurrection:

The sea gave up the dead that were in it, and death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them, and each person was judged according to what they had done. Then death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. The lake of fire is the second death. (Rev 20:13)

Waiting in death, in the sea or in the underworld until a second resurrection and judgement - where have we heard that before?

Magnus coughed in a genteel Fifth House way, and said, “Who wait for our Lord’s touch on the day of a second Resurrection.”

Although Abigail Pent suspects the metaphysical reality is rather different, this is the eschatology of the Houses: the world ended and the righteous dead were raised by god and they and their descendants live in his myriadic reign. And when that reign ends, he will raise the ancient dead who were not included in that first resurrection and those who wait in the River in a second Resurrection.

What happens after that? In the Bible, the world is destroyed and remade:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. (Rev 20:11)

We don't know what the Houses believe will happen at the second Resurrection. We don't know for sure what John is planning. But in light of Revelation, I do wonder about the poem at the start of NTN:

Let’s put this first-draft dream of mine to bed.

In the appointed hour

I’ll pull up your sheets. I’ll kill the light,

Lie down beside you; die; and sleep the night.

This time will be the time we get it right:

Forgiveness not so hard, nor anger long;

Our graves will be less deep, our lies less true.

You held aloft the sword. I still love y-

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #john gaius #abigail pent #nona the ninth

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wren-125 · 4 months

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When John left after Jack was born for a year, it must’ve been so hard for Abigail. She was an 18 year old girl having to raise an infant alone in a gang just because John didn’t feel like a father or whatever. I like to think that Arthur kind of acted as a father figure in Jack’s first year. Especially with that one journal page of Arthur talking about how he was really jealous of John and Abigail, and how he wished he would’ve married her when he could. He also was probably really missing being a father/spouse after what happened to Isaac and Eliza, this almost felt like his second chance. Arthur and Abigail even could’ve been “a thing” while John was gone- they didn’t know where he was, they had no idea he was gonna come back, they probably thought he was dead. When John did come back, I feel like the whole gang was kind of disappointed in him. John kind of replaced the role Arthur had, and Arthur probably felt like he lost his “family” again. Baby Jack would be used to Arthur, but then he never really had him as a father figure again. Arthur still loved John like a brother, but I don’t think he’ll ever forgive him for what he did to Abigail and Jack.

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 #no hate to John but he was so stupid #I love John tho don’t worry #arthur morgan #john marston #abigail marston #abigail roberts #jack marston

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yourlastbraincell-kiwi · 3 months

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Veiled Promises

A/N: My first Paul Atreides story! I think this’ll be a series, only cause I left it on a bit of a cliffhanger, we shall see. Also, not sure of any typos and spelling errors, but I hope it’s good! ❤️

Pairing: Paul Atreides x Fem!Reader

—————

‘(Y/N)?’

My mother called out to me, in very faint tone of voice. I squirmed a little in my sleep, refusing to open my eyes.

“(Y/N). Please.’

I waved away my mother dismissively, wanting nothing more than to get some rest.

‘Wake up!’

My eyes immediately opened, at my body shot up looking around for my mother. I have no idea, what that voice was, but it was not my mother.

I got up from the comfort of my bed. My silky, satin sheets, draping onto the cold floor, and looked out the window.

I stared at the horrifying sight just a few feet away from my bedroom window. The place was up in flames, crashed vehicles and aircraft’s, and people lying flat on the sandy floors.

I wanted to look away, turn my head move my body, but it was almost as if my mind wanted me to see this.

My eyes began watering due to my staring out the window.

I then watched as they brought a group of people brought a person out into the middle of the sand. They separated and spread out. And on person stood in-front of the captive.

Once the guy moved out of the way, I could see who the unfortunate person standing there..

That being my mother.

I knew for a fact it was her, no matter how crowded a place may be, or how far away she would be from me, I can always spot her no matter the situation.

I started tearing up even more, and tried hard to break free, from whatever hold was bestowed upon me.

I watched as the person raised something about their head and swiftly bring it down.

Not know what else to do, I screamed. I screamed bloody murder at the top of my lungs.

The person turned to look up at my bedroom window, and I stared back at him. Hoping maybe my stare would turn him into stone, like Medusa had done.

I felt helpless.. I feel helpless..

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)?” I heard, in my ears, and I felt someone touch my shoulder, “Wake up, honey.”

I jolted awake, and looked around the room, clutching the sheets in my hands. “You’re okay. It’s okay, you were having a nightmare again.”

Abigail had informed me and patted my face dry with a towel.

Abigail has been a servant of my House since I turned double digits. She was always there for me, when I needed a talk, or needed someone to solely listen. And she did no matter what, and I loved her for it.

I stared at the window from across the room, breathing heavily. And Abi noticed, getting up and shutting the window for me. “Do you wish to talk about it?”

I couldn’t find the words to say a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ so I just shook my head. And Abi nodded her head in acknowledgment, “You know where to find me if you do, okay?”

I nod, as Abigail put a calming hand atop of my shoulder, before leaning in and placing a kiss on my forehead, before standing up. “I left some water for you over there, and your father wishes for you to be up and ready for breakfast in 10.”

“I understand.” I said softly, my vocals feeling strained from probably yelling in my sleep. Abi gave me a small smile and left the room.

I move closer to the edge of the bed, reaching over to take sip of water. I let out a long sigh, before standing up to put on some clothes.

After finding an outfit suitable for breakfast, I walked into the dining hall, and sat down across from my father.

“Morning, (Y/N).” My father said, and I nodded my head, not wanting to hurt my vocal cords anymore than I already have. “So, I’ve been told that you were screaming in your sleep last night?” He asked and I replied with a shrug of my shoulders.

“Nightmares again?”

“I guess so..” I murmured under my breath, and slowly began to eat my food, but he quickly picked up on it.

“When are you going to get that treated?” He asked, seating his fork down. “It’s not going to treat itself, (Y/N).”

“I know it isn’t, and I-”

“So, what are you doing to do about it?”

“I don’t know, maybe visit the physician or something. Why are you so annoyed with me having nightmares?”

“I am your father, I’m concerned for you and those nightmares of yours.” He says, and I role my eyes.

“The only thing you’re concerned with is finding a possible suitor for me. And you think I can’t find one with having nightmares. They’re normal.”

“Yes, they are normal, but you’d been having one day and every night. That is not normal.” He replied standing up and walked over to my chair and put a hand on my shoulder. “And I do want to find a suitor for you, but I promise you, your health comes first. Understand?”

I nod and he rubs my shoulder, “Promise me, you’ll find some way to at least, bring the amount of nightmares down. I don’t wish to see or hear you suffer every night, my dear.”

“I’ll try, for you father.” He smiled and kissed the top of my head. “Now, I need you in full dress, we have people coming to see us today.” I roll my eyes, and finished my breakfast before going to find Abigail to help me out.

~~~~~

“How do you think this’ll go?” Abi asked as she helped me put on my dress.

“Not sure, same as all the other times, I presume. Bad.”

“Oh come now, they weren’t bad at all.” Abigail says and I give her a look.

“You must’ve been in the wrong place, cause everyone knows how badly it went.” I said, with a laugh, and she joins in.

“Do.. Do you think this suitor will be the one?”

“It’s definitely a possibility, but I know that if it doesn’t turn out the way, father wants it to go, he’ll definitely be at his wits end.” I reply and Abi nods, and fixes a couple strands of hair.

“Well, I hope the day goes well, and you find the one, m’lady.” She says, taking her things and left. I look at myself once more in the mirror before leaving my room to find my father.

~~~~~

“Father?” I call out softly, and find that they are all in the common room, waiting for me.

“Here she is. (Y/N), I’d like for you to meet, Leto Atreides, and Lady Jessica of House Atreides.” I smile and do a bit of a bow to the both of them.

“And this is our son, Paul.” Leto introduced, as I bowed to him as well, noticing his eyes following my every move.

“Pleasure to meet you all.”

“I’ll take Lady Jessica and Leto, out to the gardens, why don’t you and Paul get acquainted, hm?” I nod to my father, and direct Paul to another part of the house.

Oh, what a long day this’ll be..

#paul atreides x black!reader #paul atreides x reader #dune movie #wattpad #x reader #angst #crazy start

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suchawrathfullamb · 1 month

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Opinion on Popular Fandom Opinions - Will Graham Edition

Feel free to reblog with your own answers.

Will and cooking: he knows how to cook very well, he grows his own spices and herbs, he is meticulous but not necessarily neat, but yeah, imo he can very well cook.

Will and food: he'll eat anything but he is critical, won't compliment unless he actually likes it; does not need distraction while eating AT ALL (I hate this headcanon lol); eats like a prince because he is annoying about looking well mannered; does understand about food and wine (not to the extent H does but yes); no I don't think he eats fast food out of choice, I think he's too pretentious, but won't complain if he has to eat it.

Will and fatherhood: terrible, we've seen him at it and he sucked both times. He's a narcissist and there are very rare scenarios where he would make a good father. He'd be the type to never fully connect with a child then complain the child is disconnected from him (as he did in canon); at dinner table he'd make the most basic questions like how was school but he's mentally disassociated. Would force his own hobbies on the child (abigail and fishing). Wouldn't be capable of telling their favorite color or favorite teacher at school. Would be good at protecting but emotionally byebye.

Will and his father: not close, he was just existing near him, his father was probably an alcoholic because he seems to have tendencies; probably aggressive since he believes his dark traits are passed on by genes.

Will and his mother: never knew her like he said, I don't think she was avoidant or emotionally unavailable bc he clearly only mentioned following his dad around meaning the mom was literally not there, I think she had the same condition he has, was probably schizophrenic or/and had ppd. headcanon his dad killed her

Will and Molly: distant, avoidant, distracted himself with dogs and whatever else, found her comforting but felt a huge urge to get the fuck off like he did the first chance he got. Cared for her but couldn't even say I love you back, so...

Will and Alana: hugh projecting his attraction for the actress aside he was physically attracted and desperately wanted to like the normal/good girl who behaved like a mother.

Did he know Hannibal was in love with him? Rationally? Yes. His subconscious dreamt about it. But he didn't believe it until Bedelia said it.

What type of murder husband he would be: unstable, unhinged, insane, would switch a looot (love you/hate you), devoted, passionate but acts nonchalant, possessive, horny.

Will and money: has a lot of it considering his work, paying Hannibal's sessions etc, but doesn't splurge or flaunt it, is financially conservative.

Petnames: doctor is definitely a petname. I do believe he would drop the babe but only 6+ years into domesticity. never ever "Han" (ew).

Top or bottom: switch but power, bratty and demanding when bottom but after awhile surrenders; pillow princess for sure.

Good Will or Dark Will: he was never "good", Hannibal set him free but didn't create anything in him.

#do it yourselves #hannigram #nbc hannibal #hannibal #will graham #murder husbands #hannibal lecter #lamb creates random shit

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kaitys-bs · 20 days

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Guns n’ Roses 🌹

mafia boss ellabs

NSFW MDNI

tags: smut with plot, top!abby, bottom!ellie, talks of murder, brief smoking, slight implied pinning?, little bit of a power dynamic, pet names (gorgeous, good girl, slut), degrading & praise, fingering (e receive), oral (e receive)

not proof read (who actually does…)

The city has been divided in two for as long as anybody can remember. Gang violence ransacking Seattle for decades, not a day would go by without the sounds of sirens or gunshots. That's until two men stepped up to gain some control, Jerry Anderson and Joel Miller.

Sure, the men were at each others throats from the very first day. Both believed they knew what was right to control the gang scene and in the end, agreed to split the city in two. Each having their own personal agenda for their enterprise.

The tipping point was the death of Jerry Anderson, leading his daughter Abby to take his place.

After Jerry died via single gunshot to the forehead, war between their respective families began to escalate, Abby speculating it was the doing of the Millers. She wasn't wrong, taking a golf club to Joel's skull which promoted his daughter Ellie to take his place.

What's the saying? An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind?

Ellie shuts her office door behind her, letting out a heavy breath with a rub to her aching shoulders. She needed a massage, or maybe to get her back blown out a round or two. It's been a long ass week to say the least.

She pulls out a cigarette and lighter from her pocket, circling around to her desk. A commotion occurring on the other side of Ellie's door causing a crease to form between her brows. Soon enough the door is flinging open and Abigail Anderson in her suited glory pushes through, blood on her jacket and murder in her eyes. "Williams!" She shouts, less than happy to see the auburn haired girl.

"Ms. Anderson. What a... surprise" Ellies voice sounds far from surprised, almost disappointed as she snuffs out her cigarette while leaning back in her chair, legs manspread with her arms pulled back into a cross. Suit jacket open with the top buttons of her dress shirt undone, Ellie looks a wreck with that shit eating grin plastered on her face.

Abby's palms press into the grain of Ellie's desk, death stare into her soul. "The fucking audacity of you. A drive by! A fucking DRIVE BY?" A soft chuckle leaves the brutes throat, reminding Ellie that Abby is just a girl despite the tough exterior. "I mean come on, you didn't even have the balls to do it yourself?"

Ellie raises from her spot, disliking the fact Abby loomed over her. Her glare through thin lashes still small under the blondes height. "Didn't see the need. Unlike you, I actually try to cover up my kills" But that's untrue, Ellie knew she wouldn't be able to pull the trigger on Abby if it came to it.

Abby raises an eyebrow, disbelieving her answer but surprised regardless. "But where's the fun in that gorgeous? Seeing the life drain out of their eyes..." She trails off, clicking her tongue.

"So why'd you come here? Rub it in my face you survived? Have my shooters head in a box for me or something? Kill me? What's your angle Anderson?" Ellie leans in slightly, her head cocking to the side as she takes in Abby's massive figure.

Abby again lets out one of those pretty chuckles with a shake of her head, "So little faith. I just came to get you to tell me why the fuck you think you can kill me? Do you want my guys to come after yours? That would start a full blown war." The way Abby scolds Ellie sends a rush between her legs, pressing them together behind the desk while keeping up the act.

"A war started the moment you bashed in my father's head" Ellie presses her palms into the desk harder, hearing the wood creak under the pressure of her ange and horniness.

Abby leans in slightly with an innocent little grin, "So that's what it's about? You miss your daddy, do you now?" The way her lips pout with fake sympathy is so demeaning, making Ellie feel like a child. It's a turn on that she didn't know she had.

"Fuck. You" Ellie speaks through her teeth, "Is that all or is there something else you came here for?"

Abby smirks, eyes glossing up and down with a smirk before taking an inhale of air. "Normally when someone turns on me, I'd just take them out back and shoot them" She takes out her revolver, inspecting it in her palm before gently resting it on the desk, "But you're not just anyone, are you now?"

"What's your game here Anderson? If you're gonna shoot me, do it" The auburn haired woman barks as she sulks back in her skin, arms crossing with a hesitant look. While attempting to remain strong, it's getting harder to deny that pull.

Abby shakes her head a negative, "Such an attitude" Soon enough Abby's strong hands are gripping the sides of Ellie's cheeks, pressing them together and pulling the girl inches away from her face. "Almost like you're begging for me to fuck it out of you"

The breath from Ellie's lungs is almost vacuumed up in the whirlwind of emotions. The second heartbeat between her legs grows stronger and it has the strong woman melting in Abby's hands, "Tell me you want me" She whispers softly into Ellie's ears.

"Shut the fuck up and kiss me alrea-" As Ellie snaps back at Abby, their lips smash together in what's probably years of pent up sexual frustrations with one another. The forbidden fruits of having one another. Adam eating the apple that's now evident in every man's throat you glance, a reminder of shame.

"Clothes. Off. Now" Abby grits between kisses, nodding her head to the leather couch in Ellie's office. Quickly, she starts to take off her suit jacket, button up, and pants, watching as Abby undresses her top half too. "All of it" She adds when Ellie stopped at just her underwear.

Laying back on the couch, Ellies body is masked by Abby's. The blonde leaning over Ellie with their lips meeting once more. Their kiss is rushed, tangled in each others limbs, breath fanning face. It's a mess of a spectacle straight out of every disgusting straight man's dream porno.

For once Ellie doesn't have to hold a high standard of control. For once she's able to just lay back and let someone take the wheel. She feels small, buck ass naked underneath Abby, in her bra and slacks. "Abby-" Ellie grits between her teeth as the blonde sucks purple bruises into the pale flesh of her neck. Abby's hands not going where she needs them most, staying on her waist, hips and boobs but never traveling below the belt. It's tortue, a worse pain than being shot.

"Yes gorgeous girl?" Abby smirks against her skin while her hands trace up and down Ellie's side. "What is it?" Her kindness is simply a smoke screen as she pinches Ellie's neglected and sensitive nipple, causing her to whine while arching into Abby's huge hands.

There's a pathetic look on Ellie's brow. The way she's so desperate and on the verge of tears behind the stare that would have Abby dead if looks could kill. "I swear to fucking god- oh" A moan cuts Ellie's bitching off as soon as Abby's lips wrap around her breast. "Shit- just like that"

That cocky look on Abby's face would normally be enough for Ellie to walk away. If only the way that the blonde made her crumble in a way nobody had was enough to keep Ellie in her place, back arching into Abby's skilled pleasure.

Soon enough Abby's large finger pushes its way into Ellie, the stretch enough to almost fill her with a single digit. Melodic moans fill the room as Abby takes her time, curling her finger and simply applying pressure to that particular spot every lesbian knows of. Pressure builds in Ellies core, a sort of tension building up on the verge of snapping as Abby continues to suck her tits.

"Keep-" Abby's sharp voice barks at Ellies uncooperative hips, pushing her down so her body is flush to the couch, "Keep still- stop your fucking squirming or I'll leave. You understand?" Ellie nods quick, her neck bobbing up and down but that's not enough for her, "Fucking say it!"

The feeling of Ellie's orgasm fades into the abyss, causing a sob to leave from deep in her throat. "I understand- FUCK!" Tears physically soak her cheeks at this point, she yelps with the feeling of Abby's finger leaving her pussy, watching her side down.

Abby sucks a bruise into her thigh, with a slap to the red mark, causing Ellie to squirm. "Good girl. That's a good fucking girl" Abby's praise makes the torture almost worse, what's actually worst is the slow kisses around where Ellie wants her the most. It's ticklish but also so fucking hot.

That's when, finally like a gift from a higher being, Abby's lips find her clit and start to suck hard, almost biting her bud. Ellie screams and tries to wiggle away but the flex in Abby's shoulders and arms keep her there. The blonde doesn't even take time to say anything, eyes shut as she takes her time eating Ellie like she's her last meal on earth. At this rate, Ellie might shoot her if she doesn't cum so it very well may be.

The pressure builds and builds and builds till Ellie is breathless and unable to say a word. She can't even communicate herself, the whines and heavy breaths stop all words from forming. It's enough to boost Abby's ego for the rest of their lives. Ellie's nimble fingers tap the Abby's bicep, starting to squeeze as her legs clamp and shake like mad.

That orgasm flushes over Ellie like a truck, like nothing ever felt before. Abby takes a minute to finish what she started before pulling back to breathe, "You did so well, such a good slut" Abby sits down at ellie's feet, pulling the shaking girls legs into her lap to give a few tight squeezes in a massage.

Ellie takes her time to catch her breath with a stupid grin plastered on her cheeks. No thoughts till Abby speaks up again,

"So... about the drive by... was that your way of a booty call?"

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sassy-cass-16 · 7 months

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man. the locked tomb is so funny and so full of memes and so beautiful and sometimes it just hits me that it's also so fucking sad.

gideon and harrow spent their entire childhoods hating each other for no reason. they never had to hate each other. harrow had gideon's blood on her hands when she opened the tomb and lost her entire family and it was all for no reason. just because gideon had no one to stick up for her. and when they were both orphans they couldn't even talk to each other about it. because they hated each other.

gideon fell so in love with harrow that she died for her and then harrow spent an entire year pretending she didn't exist just so she wouldn't lose her forever. gideon literally tells harrow's story for her and takes such reverent care of her body for the short time she's in it. gideon first saw her own father through harrow's eyes and called him Lord.

and john. and john is terrible. and he is so human that he becomes terrible. he breaks down weeping because no one else in the entire universe will ever understand his jokes again. he lost everything and he is the only one who even remembers the thing that was lost. he is so completely ordinary that you almost feel like you can't blame him for everything he's done but he is terrible. he let his friends die over and over and over again and he wants to wipe everything clean and start over and he is a man who has gone so completely insane from loneliness that he's circled back around to seeming horribly normal.

he greets his daughter with a dad joke and names her as best he can and gives her a title and a body with speed holes that help her go fast. and he's not malicious. and he's not good. you can't even really call him a villain--what the hell else was he supposed to do? in any of these circumstances? but he is trying his best and his best is simply not good enough. the true horror of god is that he is just human.

all the lyctors. all the lyctors are a tragedy in their own rights. augustine and mercymorn are just the two examples that we know the most about, and their own god/father/brother/lover/beloved/teacher killed them both.

(admittedly, mercymorn struck first. admittedly, john was defending himself and his entire empire. admittedly, it was ianthe's choice to save john in the river that killed augustine. less than an hour before that, augustine was apologizing for raising his voice and john told him to have a cigarette and do you see what i mean about it being hard to blame john for anything?)

and the whole concept of the fourth house in general. we don't talk about that enough. that is almost an entire planet's worth of child soldiers, from what little information we have. what does it say about ulysses and titania that they were the ones to found that house? isaac was thirteen. jeannemary was fourteen. they were expected to become full lyctors before isaac's voice had even dropped. there was no way they could make it off canaan house alive. these kids were doomed.

protesilaus ebdoma had a wife and kids. his wife's name is mia and she probably has no idea what actually happened to him. same with abigail's brother and nephew. corona and ianthe's parents must be losing their shit--they think their eldest daughter is dead and their younger one is now a fucking Saint with a gold skeleton arm.

that's not even getting into alecto. or nona. or camilla and palamedes and paul. this series is so fucking sad even without getting into the revelation that all the lyctors are slowly merging with their cavaliers.

#tlt #tlt spoilers #gideon the ninth #the locked tomb #the locked tomb spoilers #john gaius #gtn spoilers #htn spoilers #ntn spoilers #tug spoilers #the unwanted guest #god why does this series require so many tags

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river-of-wine · 3 months

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I know I’ve been talking about Molly and Abigail a lot but I love them and people are way too mean to them, and when I see people blaming them for things such as the failure of the bank robbery all I can think is this. Do you really think that the game wants you to dislike Molly and Abigail? These two are portrayed incredibly sympathetically throughout the game, and it could not be made more clear that they are victims.

Abigail was a sex worker at seventeen years old, and she had a baby at eighteen. Her son’s father abandoned her in a gang with an infant to take care of while she was still a teenager, and he has been absent in his son’s life and refusing to accept Jack is even his son for four years. All she wants is for her son to have a better life than she had as an orphan growing up in bars and brothels, she wants John to be responsible for Jack and everybody else does as well, even Dutch of all people tries to tell John he shouldn’t abandon his own son. Literally all she wants if for her family to be safe, and that is not the unreasonable ask that people seem to make it out to be. She is a young woman with a traumatic past who loves her family, and who, in the epilogue, just wants a life with her son and her husband where they won’t be in danger anymore. Abigail is one of the biggest reasons why John ends up changing into a better man, why he goes from the deadbeat he starts the game as to who we later see him become for the better. Do you think that’s how the narrative would portray a traitor? How it would show Abigail to you if she were anything other than a desperate young mother trying to care for the people she loves?

Molly is a young woman in an abusive relationship. She is alone in America with nowhere to go and presumably no means to support or defend herself if she ever did leave Dutch, which is a hard enough thing to do in a relationship like theirs even when you are not an isolated Irish woman in 1899. She is completely alone in the gang, she has no friends and no one will properly listen to her no matter how hard she tries. She is in love and she’s worried about Dutch, she never asks him for more than the bare minimum of, as she says, “respect and affection”. She is not asking to be the only focus of his attention, she is not asking him to focus entirely on her instead of the gang, she just wants to be looked at, to be called by her first name, to not be ignored by a man who supposedly loves her. Molly is driven into depression and paranoia by her isolation from any support in the gang and Dutch’s abuse, and she ends up so desperate for somebody to pay her any attention that she says something she knows will get her shot. She is revealed to be innocent in one of the most important cutscenes in the game, the final plot twist that Micah ratted on the gang, and after this, but there is doubt before. Karen doesn’t believe her, Mary-Beth doesn’t believe her, Arthur himself is what keeps Dutch from shooting her and he doesn’t believe her. In the money ending, Arthur will plead with Dutch, telling him it wasn’t Molly and to kill Micah instead. Do you think that’s how the narrative would portray a traitor? Is that how it would show you a victim of severe abuse who wanted nothing more than to be loved?

Each have their own flaws in addition to this, but that’s because they, like the men that are so highly praised within the fan base for their brilliant writing, are complex characters. They are three dimensional characters with personalities and wants and needs, who make decisions or react in ways we might not understand because they are their own people in their own impossibly difficult situations. Just think about the actual storytelling of the game, because nothing is done accidentally. There is a reason for every narrative choice made because it was all written down and performed with the intention of telling the story properly. There is a reason why no one questions that Molly was innocent after it is revealed and why her arc ends with that cutscene, and it is because she was innocent. There is a reason why John changing his ways for the sake of his family, both because of Jack and because of Abigail, and finally listening to his wife for once is shown as a good thing, and that’s because it is. Have whatever opinions you like about a character, but don’t pretend the game is telling you they are something that they’re not

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #molly o'shea #abigail marston #I’ve probably said this on here before but I’m talking about them again

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magicbystarlight · 10 months

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Venomous - Part Eight

Masterlist, Part One

Summary: A wife. A mother. A witch with someone else's name. That’s the life you didn’t want. So Tom offered you more.

Word Count: 3,494

Warnings: 18+, arranged marriage, a dash of paranoia, age gap relationship, assault, terrible parenting. Minors DNI.

A/N: "You fucker" has been echoing in my head for days.

Christmas came to Hogwarts with a flurry of festivity. Miniature trees decorated in House colors lined the tables of the Great Hall while their grander counterparts found homes in all the corridors and darkened corners throughout the castle. Snow had fallen continuously for days, only giving the briefest reprieve to allow the final Quidditch match of the semester the last Saturday before break.

Abraxas had been there, as he had for every other match that had happened since the announcement of your engagement. In fact, he had been there for everything since your engagement. Every party Slughorn hosted and every Hogsmeade trip. He’d even taken over his father’s role on the Board of Governors to perform surprise inspections on the professors. Most didn’t mind, they had adored him as a student and his winning smile was difficult to overcome. It was only Professor Dumbledore who seemed to find issue with it.

“Ahh, Mr. Malfoy,” he had greeted one mid-November morning when Abraxas strolled in unannounced. “I was wondering when you’d be stopping my class. What a coincidence it also happened to be during Miss Selwyn’s period.”

Giggles and whispers had broken out around you.

“A coincidence indeed,” Abraxas had replied back easily, sending a cheeky smile your way. "It was the first time our schedules overlapped, seeing as you've been in France so often."

Several hours later Dumbledore had summoned you into his office. He’d always been your favorite professor and you’d once had a decent rapport with him. But, much like with Rick, he’d been busy dealing with things related to Grindelwald recently.

“I would like to apologize,” he had said as he placed a cup of tea in front of you, “for this morning. I shouldn’t have made any mention of you to Mr. Malfoy. Especially in front of other students.”

The spoon stirred on its own after you added a dollop of milk and a single sugar cube. “It’s alright, Professor. You were just saying what everyone else has been thinking.”

“Yes, I suppose I was. That’s actually what I wanted to speak with you about.” He sat on the edge of his desk, crossing his arms across his chest. “It seems there’s been quite a bit of talk about you recently. And I'm concerned.”

The cup paused at your lips momentarily before you forced yourself to sip. The warm tea did little to calm the rising anxiety. “If this is about my relationship with Abraxas, I can assure you he has been nothing but a gentleman." Not even a real kiss yet.

He shook his head. "As outdated as your engagement may be, Malfoy is not the person I'm most concerned about."

The cup clinked loudly against the plate as you sat it down. “I'm sorry, I'm not following."

He sighed, his leg bouncing as he looked out a window. "I have heard that Tom Riddle has taken an interest in you recently."

You folded your hands into your lap, fingers twisting at the Malfoy heirloom on your finger. "Has he? Seems like poor timing on his part, considering." The rumors surrounding him and you had settled, people more interested in the abrupt engagement. But Tom still watched. Not as often or as overtly, just more maliciously. A snake stalking wounded prey, waiting for the chance to strike its final blow.

"Yes, it would appear so." His leg stilled. "But, I promised your brother I’d keep an eye on you and I feel that I must warn you Tom…he isn’t all that he appears."

You wanted to scoff. His warning had come months too late. Whatever gossip he'd heard was outdated.

But no one had ever warned you about Tom before. Abigail had disliked and discouraged associating with him, but that had been about his unknown blood status. Dumbledore's tone suggested something more sinister. You knew he was dangerous. But how did Dumbledore?

You couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward, voice lowered. "Is there something I should know, Professor? Has he done something?"

"No," he said, finally pulling his gaze off the window with a tight grin. "It's just an old man's intuition." The smile didn’t reach his piercing gaze.

The ghost of a hand gripped your throat, the cold anger in dark eyes seeping into the blue of Dumbledore's. He was going to kill you. He was going to kill you. No. No.

No.

You blinked, shaking your head as your back met the chair. He didn't kill you. He'd never have that chance again either. "You have nothing to worry about then. I have no interest in engaging in any sort of relationship with Tom Riddle."

The conversation had been strange. In the end it left you with more questions about Tom and that sort of curiosity was dangerous.

Dumbledore's meeting had proved useful, at least. He understood an inquisitive mind and, with a simple promise of a future essay on whatever you found, you left his office with a note allowing nearly unrestricted access to the Restricted Section to research Old Magicks.

Not that you found much time to use it. The future Mrs. Malfoy was in high demand. Gossiping gaggles of girls wishing to be seen as part of your circle. Boastiters bustles of boys who wanted to get in good with Abraxas. Predictably pompous packs of Purebloods who thought they were important enough to take up your time. Perhaps it wasn't fair to shove them all into such narrow groupings, but the sheer amount of them had become so overwhelming that it had was impossible to separate the individuals from the mob.

It was only now, the few hours between the final exam of the semester and the beginning of Christmas Break, that you'd managed to steal away to the library without notice. Books were skewed across tables, parchment splattered unceremoniously with notes in nearly illegible script of anything that could be useful for the future. Unlike the main library, the Restricted Sections held no catalog. It seemed a terrible oversight. Perhaps you could help Madam Gormount create one.

You were bent over a table, flipping through the index of another book you’d pulled off the shelf when soft footsteps broke through the silence. Muscles tensed as your eyes flew frantically to your wand that lay discarded two tables away. The steps grew closer and closer and you scrambled to it, your fingers grasping the wood just as a figure darkened the gaps of the shelves.

"Little Bird?" Abraxas paused in the space between two shelves, eyebrows raised at the wand pointed at him.

"Brax," you breathed, dropping the wand back onto the table. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you."

He chuckled. "I feel privileged to have been spared your wrath. From what Merrythought said, I can imagine the damage you would have done to some other poor soul who interrupted your studying."

"I was only going to incapac—" you cut yourself off and stared back at him in disbelife. "Have you been asking about my grades?"

He grimaced, having the decency to look ashamed of himself. "Once or twice."

"Perhaps I should start calling you my father rather than my fiancé," you teased as he joined you.

"Then I would be forced to tell you it is well past your bedtime, young lady," he retorted, pressing a kiss against your forehead. Your hair jostled as he laughed at you swatting his arm.

The rumors surrounding the engagement hadn’t been as egregious as they could have been thanks to your forethought, but there had still been whispers surrounding it. Some afraid you were being taken advantage of, others wondering what sort of blackmail you had to force Abraxas Malfoy into the arranged marriage. Those rumors were easy to refute without uttering a word. Abraxas, above all else, was your friend. Smiles came naturally, an ease between you that had been built through the years. Of course, that only led to rumors of an Imperious Curse or love potion.

"Looking for your mysterious old magic?" he asked, eyeing the mess of books, parchment, and an ink bottle knocked over with its spillage dripping off the table.

Tapping your wand against the table, the mess began to right itself. Ink retreated back into its bottle. Parchment straigtened itself into a pile. Books closed. "In vain, so far."

“Perhaps we can spend some time in the library at the Manor over your break."

You gazed up at him fondly. "You certainly know how to woo a woman, Mr. Malfoy."

—

The silence was deafening as the compartment door slid shut. It had been weeks since you'd said more than a couple words in passing to Larissa and even longer since you had spoken to Abigail at all. You had been determined to make that even longer, but you'd come back from breakfast to find two small presents sitting on top of your trunk. Larissa had given a framed photo of the three of you from Third Year, smiling happily in a booth at The Three Broomsticks. A sweet momento of a happier time.

Abigail's gift was a romance by one of her favorite muggle authors. "A Marriage Not-So-Convenient." A gift had never made you laugh so hard before. Only Abigail would think to give a novel about an arranged marriage to apologize for her part in creating yours.

"I'm sorry," Abigail spoke quietly as you sat across from her.

"Me too," Larissa added.

You reached out and gripped their hands. "I'm sorry." That was all that needed to be said between you.

"I'll be with the Malfoy's for most of break, but I want a day for us in Diagon Alley. My treat, whatever you want."

"We can go look at wedding dresses!"

“Too soon, Issa,” Abigail scolded Larissa like she hadn’t gifted you a book about an arranged marriage this morning.

“It’s fine.” You squeezed their hands. “But I think we should save the dress shopping for summer. I need a day to be a normal eighteen year old.”

Abigail gave a sad smile. “Of course.”

“Are you going to tell us how it happened?” Larissa asked. “How it really happened.”

They must have heard the rumors. Of course they had. “He did it to protect me.”

“How roman—“ Larissa’s squeal was cut off by Abigail’s elbow to her side. “Ow!”

“It is romantic,” you said, leaning back into the seat. “Brax is…perfect. I’m almost glad this is happening.”

Abigail always knew you better. “Almost.”

Your eyes dropped to the ring that weighed heavily on your finger. A witch of someone else’s name. “Almost.”

—

“Don’t you think it a tad selfish, my dear, to deprive Abraxas of his wife for so long?”

The grip on your drink tightened at the question. Velena Fawley lacked the skills many in her position as the Minister’s wife should have. Her hosting etiqutte left much to be desired, with her half drunk before half her guest had even arrived, but the most egrigious was her lack of subtletly in conversation.

“Yes, it is nice for a young woman to have her education these days, but you certainly won’t need it.” A splash of her drink landed on your bare arm as her hands gestured mindlessly. “But a man, well, he has certain physical needs and unless you want him looking to others to fulfill them...”

You almost missed the days when you avoided these parties, (rightfully) frightened of Tom. At least you had not been subjected to these sorts of interactions. Now and for the foreseeable future, however, these sorts of events would be completely unavoidable as Mrs. Malfoy. Abraxas had promised to stay by your side the entire night, but he'd been pulled off somewhere by someone minutes after your arrival and you hadn't seen him since. All evening you'd been pestered with talk of your engagement. Some were simple congratulations. Others were like Velena, questioning why the wedding needed to wait for schooling to finish when you were already of age. A few had already begun to blindly attempt to curry your favor.

The worst had been Cantankerus Nott, a widower with children older than Abraxas, who had expressed his displeasure at not having the opportunity to bid for your hand. A shiver ran down your spin remembering the way he’d leered. The teal gown you wore seemed too thin, too revealing under his gaze.

“—no one likes to think about their husband—or fiancé for you, I suppose, going off and getting it wet, but he very well could if you are forcing him to wait more than a year—“

“I appreciate your concern,” you cut in, unsure how much longer you could bear to hear her prattle, “it is an honor to have the Minister's wife of all people worry for me. But I have taken up too much of your time. So many of your wonderful, important guests must crave even a fraction of what you've given me.”

She blinked several times, her alcohol addled mind needing a few more seconds to take in the words. Her eyes widened as she finally comprehended. "Oh, yes! I am the hostess, aren't I? Well lovely chatting with you dear!" Someone behind you caught her attention and she was off.

Navigating through the horde in the opposite direction, you kept your head down to avoid being stopped and dragged into another mind-numbing conversation. How anyone thought a political spectacle like this was a proper way to spend Christmas Eve you could never comprehend.

Larissa had told you rather happily of her family’s traditions that involved only themselves, seasonal treats, and silly children’s games. Abigail rarely spoke of her home life, knowing neither you nor Larissa could quite understand the Muggle world she’d been forced to grow up in, but you recalled her fond smile once when she spoke about getting to help with a play every year.

Downing what was left of your drink, you set the glass on one of the trays that floated by and scanned the room for a friendly face. A cousin from school hopefully. At least they'd gotten their fill of your engagement already. Instead it was your mother's disapproving glare you found.

The days you’d spent at Malfoy Manor hadn’t saved you from her presence and it seemed a party full of people wouldn’t either. “Enjoying yourself, are you?" she asked as you came to stand beside her.

"It was rosewater."

Her contentious huff made you wonder if Velena had a point in being blissfully drunk. Perhaps then you could have some tiny enjoyment in your mother’s company. “I have not seen Abraxas with you since we arrived. Did he bore of you so quickly?”

You bit your tongue. Selene Selwyn, you'd realized recently, was bitter. Bitter at the life that had been forced on her, the man she had married, the children she did not want, the expectations put on her that were impossible to reach. She was bitter that she’d done the same to you, but you’d managed to secure the Malfoy heir while all she'd gotten was one of the Selwyns.

“I’ve monopolized much of his time recently, he deserves some with his friends.”

"Find him," she instructed, "people are already talking about him regretting the engagement." She leaned in and lowered her voice. "For once in your life don't embarrass this family." She left you with one last sharp look before pulling her face into a smile and walking off.

Bitter old hag. You hated her. Gods, did you hate her.

The night's air stung as you stepped out of the party onto the balcony. During the summer and spring, it would be packed with people enjoying the view of the blossomed Fawley Garden. Few dared to brave it in the frigid temperature for the decayed scene it held now. Long, thin, shafts of light spilled across it from the half draped sets of glass doors that lined it, the rest of it barely lit by the sliver of waxing moon. In the darkness between two beams of the light, you rested your back against the stone railing.

It had been a bitter discovery when you'd stepped off the train to find your mother with Abraxas. You'd expected to see her for a dinner or two, in passing at parties, for the annual New Year's Lunch with her parents, but that you'd be mostly free of her. You weren't. Your invitation to stay at Malfoy Manor during the holiday had been extended to her. The scrutiny you'd been under at Hogwarts was nothing in comparison to her's. Every insignificant detail of your appearance and interactions with Abraxas and his parents was nitpicked. Any free time you'd hoped to have with Abraxas perosing his library was thwarted by her desire to carve out the details of the wedding that didn’t even have a date set yet.

Even now, of age and engaged, your mother had control of everything.

A familiar flash of silver blonde hair caught your eye. Your first sighting of your fiancé in hours. Vaguely familiar people of status and wealth surrounded him. If you stared long enough you could probably recall their names. You turned your back to the window to stare over the dead foliage instead.

In a few days you’d be with your friends. In a few more you’d be back at Hogwarts. There was a New Year’s Eve party you were meant to attend between then, but maybe Abraxas could be convinced to slip away early and enjoy the beginning of a new year tucked away in his library. All you needed was to get through the night.

Two figures appeared with loud pops in the middle of the lifeless garden. It was one thing to be late to a party, but this late? You straightened trying to make out who they were, but they were too far and there was too little light. They walked quickly and their voices carried, but not enough to hear what they were saying or identify who they were.

You stayed hidden in the shadows until finally you could make out their faces. One was Theseus Scamander, Head Auror. The other was your brother.

“Rick!” You nearly tripped down the stairs as you ran to meet them and smashed into your brother. It had been so long, too long, since you’d seen him. You held him tight. And as his arms wrapped around you tears welled.

"Hey, kiddo," he said with a hitch in his voice. “I’ve missed you.”

More words caught in your throat, too overwhelmed to speak. Rick was here. A bit shaggier, his beard scratching against your scalp, but here.

He pulled away too soon.

“Why are you here? Weren’t you avoiding parties?”

“I was.” Your fingers flexed at your side. “But I can't really do that anymore.”

Warrick’s brows knitted together, but his response was interrupted.

"I'm very sorry to cut this short, but we're already late." Thesesus gave a tight lipped smile.

He sighed as he checked his watch. "Right.” He squeezed your arm lightly. “We're here on business. But I’ll be by tomorrow and we’ll catch up then. Okay?”

He was already following his boss up the stairs. Their stride was much quicker than yours and you struggled to keep up. "Okay, but I'm not at home for break."

"Really? Mum finally let you stay at Hogwarts?” Blast his long legs. He was nearly at the top.

"No.” You caught yourself against the rail, tripped by your dress catching under your shoe. “I’m staying with Abraxas.”

He stopped. “Why?”

“Have you not read a single letter in the past few months?” You were more out of breath than you liked when you caught up with him. The emerald caught the moonlight as you held up your hand. “We’re engaged.”

Warrick stared at the ring. “Engaged?”

“Merlin, Rick! It’s all anyone’s been bloody talking about! I’ve written three times about it!”

He didn’t have the decency to apologize. Instead roaming his harsh gaze over the doors until he found what he was looking for. He set off without a word.

“Rick!” Theseus called, clambering after him. He tried grabbing his arm, but your brother slipped out of his grip easily.

You too scrambled after him, lifting your dress. You couldn’t quite understand what was happening, but you knew it was not good. “Rick, stop!”

He swung open a set of doors. People were shoved out of the way and a chorus of annoyance sounded. You got to the doors just in time to see him approach Abraxas.

"You fucker," Warrick thundered before pulling back his arm and smashing his fist into Abraxas' face.

Abraxas stumbled backwards knocking into more guests. Blood seeped out of his nose.

Warrick raised his arm again. "My sister! My little sister! She's a child you sick—" His voice cut off and his entire body froze.

Theseus lowered his wand.

The sound of clicking followed a dozen flashing lights.

HP Tag List: @bamboozledflamplant @squishytomatoes @benonlinear @byelannie @itsccc @bluegiraffeplushie

Venomous Tag List: @pearlsofme @fck-this @ambria @sheeple @strangunddurm @weirdowithnobeardo @emberenchanted

#tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x ravenclaw!reader #tom riddle #abraxas malfoy x reader #venomous

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sstormyskyess · 3 months

Text

hi everyone enjoy some single dad!soap as i try to recover from writer's block! warning for hurt/comfort [i made myself sad writing this so take that as you will]

You listen to Abigail talking about what happened in her class earlier in the day while she doodled, brows furrowed from her focus on getting everything in her drawing just right. They were doing basic arithmetics, something she apparently had a distaste for. But she makes sure to tell you that your nephew had helped her with most of the math problems, which brings a smile to your face.

A ping on your phone draws your attention away from her stories. You check the notification and see it’s a text from John letting you know he was on his way home and it draws a small, relieved sigh out of you. It was starting to get late, and you were worried about him not making it back before you had to get the girls tucked in for bed.

Abigail hated going to bed without seeing her dad first; you didn’t really know why, but it was simply a quirk of her mannerisms. It doesn’t happen frequently, but every now and then he’s caught up with work on base and you’ve stayed up with Abigail until he got home with her clinging to your side as you laid on the couch.

You shoot a quick reply back to him and tune back in when Abigail asks you if you could hand her one of her blue colored pencils. She beams at you happily and says thank you when you pass her the blue pencil that you remember to be her favorite.

You’re about to continue spacing out until you feel a tiny tug on your pant leg. Ashley babbles at you from the floor where she was crawling and you pick her up, resting her on your leg. She looks up at you expectantly with her bright blue eyes—ones she got right from her father—and you hold her little hands. “Are you hungry, Ash?” You ask and she continues to mumble incoherently. “What about you, Abby?” Abigail nods excitedly, hopping down from her chair at the dining room table, dashing into the kitchen. You chuckle quietly, standing up with Ashley on your hip.

You’re in the process of cleaning up Ashley’s face when the front door unlocks and the broad stature of her father makes itself present in the doorway. He ruffles Abigail’s hair when she dashes up to him and hugs his legs, grinning up at him giddily. “Papa, come look at my drawing!” She bounces up and down and he lets her drag him over to the table covered with her doodles.

You laugh under your breath, going back to what you were doing before. You jump when John’s arm wraps around your shoulders and he pulls you close to his side. “Gotta talk to you about something later,” he mumbles to you, squeezing you tighter. You glance up at him and give him a confused look, but he just takes Ashley out of her high chair and holds her to his chest, smiling at the way her eyes drooped sleepily after her meal.

“You’re getting called in?” You look at him sadly, a frown tugging your lips downward. “I thought you had another month or so.”

He shrugs and sighs, climbing in bed next to you. “Things happen, bonnie.” His frown mirrors yours and his voice is audibly dejected. He doesn’t like being away from his girls for any amount of time. Now, he has you to come back to as well, only adding to his distaste for leaving.

He pulls the sheets over both of you and lays back against the headboard. You take comfort in his warm presence at your side and shuffle closer to him as subtly as possible. You’re not as slick as you think you are, though. He ends up noticing and taking the initiative to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into his side.

Your face heats up to your ears because of the close proximity. He’s shirtless, as he usually is when he’s going to bed, meaning you were mere inches away from his bare, muscular chest. “I’ll miss you," he murmurs, resting his head on yours.

You blink, surprised by his words. You're quiet for a moment before a small smile comes to your face. "I'll miss you, too," you respond, just as quietly, almost as though you're trying to hide your words from the outside world.

His hand trembles a bit where it rests on your hip. He sighs, running his hand up your side and back down to your hip to soothe himself. "What are you doin' to me, bonnie?" He mutters, turning his head to bury his face into the top of your head. "Can never stop thinkin' about you and the girls. You're drivin' me crazy," he says, his accent thicker than usual because of how tired he is. "Just wanna be with you all the time."

You wrap your arm around his waist and rest the side of your face on his chest. You can barely think of anything to say. His words muddled your mind, filling your thoughts with all the time you've spent with him. It's been almost a year since you met him and things have become so different. Things have been good. Better than they have been for many years.

“Would you be willing to watch the girls while I’m gone?” He pulls away just enough to look at you. You look up at him and meet his icy blue eyes, taking note of the pink shade his cheeks had become.

You have to think about his question for a moment, despite your desire to immediately jump on the prospect of being Abigail and Ashley’s caretaker for such an extended period of time. It would be a lot; they were already a handful just for the short spans of time you take care of them throughout the week. But as you weigh your options, you always come back around to accepting his proposal. You smile when you look up at him and nod, sealing the deal.

He looks back at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling from how wide his grin was. “Thank you, love.”

Your eyes are dry as you stare up at the ceiling. It was the middle of the night; you should be sleeping because you have work tomorrow, but you keep thinking about him. John had left for the airport about a month ago, maybe a few weeks more than a month. You’ve not been keeping track perfectly, but it was somewhere around that time frame.

You were missing him. It’s not as though he hasn’t been deployed while you’ve known him. He’s been deployed for a month or so at a time on multiple occasions, but it felt like the time was dragging on so much longer than it usually did. Something about being surrounded by all the little traces of him was making it much harder to handle his absence. The sheets still smelled like his body wash and the faintest hint of gunpowder that never seemed to wash clean from his clothes after his missions.

The light from the hallway peeking into John’s room wakes you out of your restless sleep and your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the sudden brightness in your eyes. You sit up quickly at the sound of Abigail’s choked up voice calling your name from where she was standing at the bedroom door.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You ask gently while you get out of bed, walking over to her where she was sniffling and rubbing tears out of her eyes. She slowly and quietly wraps her arms around your hips, burying her face in your shirt. “Had a—a bad dream…” She ekes out past the hoarseness in her voice. Your heart breaks immediately and you bend down to her level, letting her wrap her arms around your neck in a tight, clingy hug.

You pick her up and take her to John’s bed, sitting with her in your lap. “You wanna tell me about it?” You ask, looking down at her. She shakes her head, nestling herself further into your arms. “Alright, that’s okay, honey.” You shush her softly and let her cry into your shirt.

She eventually goes silent after a while, her shaky sobs reduced to quiet sniffles and choppy breaths. You lay down with her on your chest, your hands running up and down her back comfortingly. You perk up when she says your name to get your attention. You open your eyes back up and look down at her with a hum of acknowledgement.

“When's Papa gonna come home?”

Her tone is so bleak compared to the cheery giggles and bright smiles she’s usually sporting. You think on the question, trying to navigate what the best response would be. It was a question you've been asking yourself over the past month and a half, and you haven’t even been able to come up with a satisfying answer for your own worries. You sigh after a moment and pet the back of her head, taming her messy bedhead.

“Soon. He’ll be home soon, okay?” You muster up a smile to accompany your words. “He’s never broken a promise before, has he?”

She shakes her head, her hazel eyes darkened in the low light of the bedroom. “That’s right. You just have to trust him.” Your smile widens when she nods. “Okay,” she mumbles, going back to hiding her face in your chest.

You both end up sound asleep soon enough, with your arms holding her to your chest and her tiny hands clinging to your shirt.

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