Abby X You - Tumblr Posts
𝜗𝜚 Yours and Abby's Wedding Day Headcanons
tags: nsfw, abby x fem!reader, dom!abby x sub!reader
— Abby proposed to you at the most unexpected moment: she asked you to take a picture of a beautiful landscape on her phone. While you were looking for an angle, she got down on one knee behind you and took out a velvet box with a gold ring from her pocket. When you turned around, the smile fell off your face."Will you marry me?" She said it almost in a whisper.You started crying and nodding. She laughed and hugged you, kissing you on the forehead. You were incredibly happy.
— the preparation for the wedding was very long: it was necessary to choose a dress, a suit, a banquet hall, raise money and so on, but you and Abby coped with all this in 4 months
— when Abby saw you in a wedding dress with a bouquet in her hands, she just stared at you for another 40 seconds and was shocked by your beauty
— at the registry office, the registrar did not even have time to say: "Exchange kisses", as Abby already held your face in her palms and kissed you to the stormy screams of your relatives and guests
— when it was time for the first dance, she constantly stumbled over the train of your dress and cursed in a whisper. Her only comfort was stroking your waist and inhaling your scent to somehow quench her ardor.
— she would give her piece of wedding cake to you because "I have to go to the gym tomorrow, I have to be in shape"
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤNSFW
— when your wedding night was just beginning, she untied the corset from your dress for half a year, sighing every 10-15 seconds
— "if you feel uncomfortable or hurt, then be sure to tell me, okay, baby?"
— hearing your every sob, she worries and stops. Continues only after making sure that everything is in order
— "That's it... You're such a clever.. come on...a little more...you can—shit—...do it..."
—runs in a circular motion over your clit, kissing your neck
—uses a brand new strap. Moves slowly, but speeds up over time
—"no, no, no, babe... do not close your eyes... I want to see how good you feelinʼ"
—do it in a missionary position
—Abby drips some cold champagne from the wedding feast on your chest and licks it off your breasts and nipples.
— after you both reach the edge, she will hug you for a long time, kissing your face.
heey! it's me again. actually, it's not my first work but I decided that posting it would be the best solution. I hope you'll love it 𔘓
pussydrunk.
abby x fem!reader a/n: a drabble bc ovulation is no joke..🏃♀️💨
You found yourself sinking into the plush cotton pillows, the very ones that usually cradle your head in peaceful slumber. But now, they serve a different purpose, muffling your moans and whines. Waves of heat surge throughout your body, every sensation a blur of ecstasy.
Abby's hands tighten their grip on your thighs, her soft groans igniting heat against your cunt. Positioned on your stomach, your back arches, making your spine gracefully curve. a tempting offering for her.
With Abby positioned below you, her face is buried in between your legs. She suddenly stops, a hint of disappointment flickers across your face, your teeth gently sinking into your lower lip.
"mmm..." She murmured huskily, her finger tracing a path along your slit, her gaze so undeniably hungry. She slapped her fingertip against your hole, the sensation sending electric pulses through your core.
"nghh..” you whimpered, your hips instinctively rocking against the warmth of her touch.
"that feel good, baby?" she mumbled, her eyes locked on the way your hole pulsated.
"yesyesyes!" you moaned in response, feeling the pressure of her finger teasingly slide into you.
"Fuckk, give it to me, baby," she demanded, her tone desperate and eager.
You hesitated for a moment before slowly lowering yourself onto Abby's awaiting mouth,
"Mhmm..." Abby gripped your ass firmly, guiding your hips down with a force that made your pussy slam against her lips. Every movement, each bounce against her face, filled the room with sounds of your slick meeting her mouth.
"I can't get enough of you," she murmured between licks and kisses. With every flick of her tongue and gentle suck, you drew out moans of pleasure. Each sensation building upon the last.
Your hand reached under, tangling in Abby's hair, urging her closer, deeper. Her movements became more urgent as she sought to satisfy both her hunger and yours.
"c-can't get... fucking enough," She grumbled, her voice husky with frustration as she released a low groan. Abby was immensely frustrated at how completely pussydrunk she became. "You fucking make me this way..”
Abby Anderson- AI generated fics.
some reader-insert stories i’ve had AI generate for me.
some of these scenes might not make sense or might be repetitive. I mean this is AI lol.
Abby and Reader being mommies <3
In the quiet moments between scavenging and navigating the post-apocalyptic world, a bond deeper than survival blossomed between Abby and you. Amid the ruins of the old world, love took root, and the two of you found solace and strength in each other's company.
As time passed, your relationship deepened, and a shared dream emerged – the desire to build a semblance of family in a world that seemed determined to erase such notions. It was against this backdrop that the idea of a child took shape, a glimmer of hope in a seemingly endless struggle.
Months later, in a small, hidden enclave that you and Abby had come to call home, the soft cries of a newborn filled the air. Together, you held your daughter in your arms, her tiny fingers wrapping around yours, a symbol of resilience and the enduring power of love.
Abby's protective instincts, once reserved for the harsh realities of survival, extended to your little one. With a careful touch, she cradled your daughter, her eyes reflecting a mixture of awe and unwavering commitment. The challenges of the outside world were still ever-present, but within the confines of your makeshift home, a sense of warmth and belonging flourished.
One day, as Abby was teaching your daughter how to fashion makeshift toys from scavenged materials, you couldn't help but smile at the scene. "Look, kiddo, a little doll from these scraps. It's not as pretty as the ones from the old world, but it's made with love," Abby said, her gaze softening as she handed the tiny creation to your daughter.
Your daughter, still learning to grasp objects, giggled and clumsily reached for the doll, her eyes lighting up with joy. You joined them on the makeshift rug, your heart swelling with gratitude for these simple yet profound moments of family.
As the days passed, you and Abby took turns soothing your daughter during restless nights. One evening, after Abby had settled her back to sleep, you found her gazing at the stars through a crack in the makeshift roof.
"She's a blessing," Abby said, her voice tinged with emotion. "I never thought I'd find this in the midst of all the chaos."
You wrapped your arms around her, sharing a silent acknowledgment of the journey that brought you to this point. "We found something worth fighting for," you replied, your gaze meeting Abby's with a shared sense of determination.
Late one evening, you found Abby sitting by the dim light of a makeshift lantern, a book in her hands. Your daughter nestled against her chest, her eyes wide with curiosity as Abby read a story about the world that once was. "And they lived happily ever after," Abby concluded, her gaze meeting yours with a soft smile.
Together, the three of you faced the challenges of this new life, weaving a narrative of love, resilience, and hope. In a world defined by loss, your family stood as a testament to the strength found in unexpected connections, turning the bleak canvas of the post-apocalyptic world into a canvas colored by the bonds of love and the promise of a better tomorrow.
One afternoon, you and Abby found a quiet corner of your enclave, surrounded by makeshift pillows and blankets. Your daughter, now a little explorer, crawled between you, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"What do you think, little one? Shall we build a tower?" Abby suggested, reaching for a pile of scavenged items that could pass as building blocks.
You chuckled, "Sounds like a plan. Let's see if we have an architect in the making." The three of you began stacking the items, each block met with an enthusiastic giggle from your daughter.
As the tower reached an impressive height (by post-apocalyptic standards), Abby playfully pretended to lose her balance, causing the tower to wobble. Your daughter erupted in laughter, her infectious joy spreading to both of you.
"Who knew the apocalypse could be so much fun?" Abby quipped, a playful glint in her eyes.
Another day, as you prepared a makeshift dinner, Abby joined in, holding your daughter in her arms. "Hey, little chef, wanna help stir the soup?" Abby asked, guiding your daughter's tiny hand with hers.
With exaggerated concentration, your daughter mimicked the stirring motion, a proud grin spreading across her face. "Good job, sweetheart! You're a natural," Abby praised, exchanging a proud glance with you.
As you all sat down for the meal, your daughter attempted to feed herself, resulting in a charming mess. "Looks like someone inherited your eating skills," Abby teased, wiping a small smudge from your daughter's cheek.
"Like mother, like daughter," you replied with a laugh, savoring the precious moments of family amid the challenges of survival.
Late at night, as you and Abby settled your daughter to sleep, a quiet lullaby filled the air. Abby hummed a gentle tune, her fingers brushing softly against your daughter's cheek. "Sweet dreams, little one," she whispered, her voice a soothing melody.
With a shared smile, you and Abby retreated to a quiet corner, reflecting on the day's moments of laughter, mess, and love. In the glow of dim lantern light, your makeshift enclave became a haven filled not only with survival but with the rich tapestry of a family sculpted by the enduring bonds of affection and shared joy.
One evening, after your daughter had drifted into a peaceful sleep, you and Abby found a quiet moment on the makeshift balcony of your enclave. The dim light of the fading sunset painted the sky with hues of orange and pink. With a shared glance, you leaned against the railing, a comfortable silence settling between you.
Abby spoke first, her voice soft, "Remember when we first met? It feels like a lifetime ago."
You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. "It's incredible how much has changed since then. We've built something special here."
Abby's gaze lingered on yours, a depth of emotion shining in her eyes. "I never thought I'd have this—a family, a home. I owe it all to you."
Brushing a strand of hair from her face, you replied, "We've built this together, Abby. It's not just me. We found something worth fighting for in each other."
As the night settled in, you and Abby retreated to the warmth of your enclave. With a makeshift blanket fort and a flickering lantern, the atmosphere became intimate. The two of you shared stories, reminiscing about the past and dreaming of a future beyond survival.
"I used to think the world ended with the outbreak, but maybe it's a chance for something new," Abby mused, her fingers tracing patterns on the blanket.
You leaned in, capturing her hand in yours. "Maybe it's a chance for us to build a different kind of world—one filled with love and moments like these."
In the soft glow of the lantern, surrounded by the remnants of the old world, you and Abby found solace in the simplicity of connection. Together, you embraced the present, knowing that every shared moment was a small triumph against the chaos that surrounded you.
In the quiet moments between scavenging and navigating the post-apocalyptic world, a bond deeper than survival blossomed between Abby and you. Amid the ruins of the old world, love took root, and the two of you found solace and strength in each other's company.
As time passed, your relationship deepened, and a shared dream emerged – the desire to build a semblance of family in a world that seemed determined to erase such notions. It was against this backdrop that the idea of a child took shape, a glimmer of hope in a seemingly endless struggle.
Months later, in a small, hidden enclave that you and Abby had come to call home, the soft cries of a toddler filled the air. Your daughter, a bundle of energy and joy, became the center of your makeshift world. She toddled around, her curious eyes taking in the remnants of a world she would never know.
Abby's protective instincts, once reserved for the harsh realities of survival, extended to your little one. With a careful touch, she cradled your daughter, her eyes reflecting a mixture of awe and unwavering commitment. The challenges of the outside world were still ever-present, but within the confines of your makeshift home, a sense of warmth and belonging flourished.
One day, as Abby fashioned a small toy for your daughter, you couldn't help but smile at the scene. "Look, kiddo, a little doll from these scraps. It's not as pretty as the ones from the old world, but it's made with love," Abby said, her gaze softening as she handed the tiny creation to your daughter.
Your daughter, still learning to grasp objects, giggled and clumsily reached for the doll, her eyes lighting up with joy. "Mama made this for you," you added, exchanging a proud glance with Abby. The three of you sat together, surrounded by makeshift toys and the warmth of shared laughter.
One afternoon, you and Abby found a quiet corner of your enclave, surrounded by makeshift pillows and blankets. Your daughter, now a little explorer, crawled between you, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"What do you think, little one? Shall we build a tower?" Abby suggested, reaching for a pile of scavenged items that could pass as building blocks.
You chuckled, "Sounds like a plan. Let's see if we have an architect in the making." The three of you began stacking the items, each block met with an enthusiastic giggle from your daughter.
As the tower reached an impressive height (by post-apocalyptic standards), Abby playfully pretended to lose her balance, causing the tower to wobble. Your daughter erupted in laughter, her infectious joy spreading to both of you.
"Who knew the apocalypse could be so much fun?" Abby quipped, a playful glint in her eyes.
Another day, as you prepared a makeshift dinner, Abby joined in, holding your daughter in her arms. "Hey, little chef, wanna help stir the soup?" Abby asked, guiding your daughter's tiny hand with hers.
With exaggerated concentration, your daughter mimicked the stirring motion, a proud grin spreading across her face. "Good job, sweetheart! You're a natural," Abby praised, exchanging a proud glance with you.
As you all sat down for the meal, your daughter attempted to feed herself, resulting in a charming mess. "Looks like someone inherited your eating skills," Abby teased, wiping a small smudge from your daughter's cheek.
"Like mother, like daughter," you replied with a laugh, savoring the precious moments of family amid the challenges of survival.
Late one evening, you found Abby sitting by the dim light of a makeshift lantern, a book in her hands. Your daughter nestled against her chest, her eyes wide with curiosity as Abby read a story about the world that once was. "And they lived happily ever after," Abby concluded, her gaze meeting yours with a soft smile.
"I think our little one enjoyed that," you remarked, watching your daughter's eyes flutter closed in contentment.
"She's got good taste in stories, just like her parents," Abby replied, her arm wrapped around both of you. In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of a broken world, your family stood as a beacon of love, resilience, and hope—a testament to the enduring power of connection in the face of adversity.
One evening, after your daughter had drifted into a peaceful sleep, you and Abby found a quiet moment on the makeshift balcony of your enclave. The dim light of the fading sunset painted the sky with hues of orange and pink. With a shared glance, you leaned against the railing, a comfortable silence settling between you.
Abby spoke first, her voice soft, "Remember when we first met? It feels like a lifetime ago."
You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. "It's incredible how much has changed since then. We've built something special here."
Abby's gaze lingered on yours, a depth of emotion shining in her eyes. "I never thought I'd have this—a family, a home. I owe it all to you."
Brushing a strand of hair from her face, you replied, "We've built this together, Abby. It's not just me. We found something worth fighting for in each other."
As the night settled in, you and Abby retreated to the warmth of your enclave. With a makeshift blanket fort and a flickering lantern, the atmosphere became intimate. The two of you shared stories, reminiscing about the past and dreaming of a future beyond survival.
"I used to think the world ended with the outbreak, but maybe it's a chance for something new," Abby mused, her fingers tracing patterns on the blanket.
You leaned in, capturing her hand in yours. "Maybe it's a chance for us to build a different kind of world—one filled with love and moments like these."
In the soft glow of the lantern, surrounded by the remnants of the old world, you and Abby found solace in the simplicity of connection. Together, you embraced the present, knowing that every shared moment was a small triumph against the chaos that surrounded you.
As the night deepened, the fort became a haven for whispered confessions and shared laughter. Abby's eyes sparkled with a tenderness that transcended the harsh realities of the world outside. "I never imagined finding such joy in the midst of all this," she admitted, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm.
You smiled, savoring the warmth of the moment. "We've created something beautiful here—a family, a home. It's a testament to what love can withstand."
Abby leaned in, capturing your lips in a lingering kiss. In the quiet intimacy of your makeshift fort, surrounded by the echoes of your daughter's dreams, you and Abby discovered that, even in a world shattered by chaos, love had the power to rebuild and redefine.
In the aftermath of your shared intimacy, the atmosphere within the makeshift fort shifted. The quiet, previously punctuated by hushed whispers and gentle exploration, now became a sanctuary of shared contemplation. Abby's fingers continued their soothing pattern on your arm, tracing invisible lines that mirrored the unspoken connection between you.
As the lantern flickered, casting a warm and intimate glow, Abby's gaze met yours. The vulnerability exchanged in those quiet moments spoke louder than words ever could. The tangled sheets and the soft rustle of fabric served as tangible reminders of a shared history, a refuge created amid the chaos outside.
Your daughter, oblivious to the complexities of the adult world, stirred in her sleep, prompting a shared smile between you and Abby. It was a testament to the delicate balance between parenthood and maintaining the essence of your relationship amid the challenges of the post-apocalyptic reality.
In the quiet aftermath, you found solace in each other's arms, the fort transformed into a haven where the weight of the world could be set aside, if only for a moment. Conversations unfolded naturally, blending moments of shared laughter and introspective musings.
Abby's voice, a comforting melody, filled the air as she shared stories of her past and dreams of the future. The vulnerability exchanged in the aftermath of your shared intimacy created a space for honesty and a deeper understanding of each other.
As the night progressed, the makeshift fort became a place where love, connection, and shared intimacy intertwined with the echoes of a once-forgotten world. In the dim glow of the lantern, surrounded by the remnants of the old world, your family, forged through love and resilience, stood as a testament to the enduring power of connection in a world reshaped by hardship.
The morning sunlight seeped through the cracks in the makeshift fort, signaling the start of a new day in your enclave. Your daughter, full of boundless energy, tumbled into the room with an infectious giggle. Abby and you exchanged amused glances, already anticipating the flurry of toddler antics that would follow.
"Good morning, little explorer!" Abby exclaimed, scooping your daughter into her arms. "What adventures await us today?"
You joined the playful banter, "Maybe a quest for the legendary toy stash? I heard it's guarded by the fearsome plush dragon."
Your daughter's eyes widened with excitement, her tiny hands clapping. "Dragon! Dragon!"
Abby grinned, playing along, "Alright, brave adventurer, we shall embark on a daring quest to uncover the treasures hidden within our fortress!"
The fort, now repurposed into a castle of imagination, became the backdrop for the morning adventure. Boxes transformed into mythical creatures, and discarded fabrics became royal capes. Laughter echoed through the enclave as your daughter, Abby, and you embraced the magic of storytelling and make-believe.
After the epic quest, the three of you settled in a cozy corner, surrounded by a makeshift picnic of scavenged treats. Abby produced a small wooden box, a relic from the past, filled with a collection of colorful buttons.
"Look what I found on our last scavenging run. A treasure trove of buttons!" Abby announced, her eyes twinkling with excitement.
Your daughter's eyes widened, fingers reaching for the vibrant buttons. "Buttons! Pretty!"
Abby carefully spread the buttons on a cloth, and the three of you began sorting them by color and size. Each button became a tiny world of discovery, a moment of shared fascination and joy.
As the morning unfolded into afternoon, the fort became a space for creative expression. Crayons and pieces of salvaged paper turned into an impromptu art session. Abby, armed with a makeshift crown of twigs, declared herself the "Queen of Crafts," eliciting peals of laughter from your daughter.
In the midst of the artistic chaos, you found a moment to capture the scene with a makeshift camera fashioned from scavenged materials. Abby posed with exaggerated regality, while your daughter, adorned with a lopsided crown of her own, giggled in delight.
As evening approached, you and Abby took turns reading stories to your daughter, the makeshift lantern casting a warm glow on the tales of adventure and friendship. Your daughter nestled against Abby, her eyes heavy with contentment.
Abby whispered, "She's got a love for stories, just like her parents."
You smiled, appreciating the simple joy of these shared moments. "Our little bookworm in the making."
The night settled in, and as you and Abby tucked your daughter into her improvised bed, the fort transformed into a sanctuary of dreams. The rhythmic sounds of a lullaby hummed by Abby filled the air, lulling your daughter into a peaceful slumber.
In the quiet moments that followed, you and Abby found a corner of the fort to share a quiet conversation. The glow of the lantern reflected the smiles exchanged between you, a silent acknowledgment of the richness these small moments brought to your lives amidst the unpredictable landscape of the post-apocalyptic world.
As you gazed at the makeshift family you had created, surrounded by remnants of the old world and the warmth of shared laughter, the fort became more than just a structure of survival. It was a canvas for love, creativity, and the enduring strength found in the unbreakable bonds formed amid the challenges of this new reality.
Abby, tracing patterns on your daughter's makeshift bedspread, remarked, "I never thought I'd find this kind of happiness in a world like ours."
You turned to her, sharing a tender smile. "Love has a way of finding us, even in the most unexpected places."
Your daughter, even in her sleep, let out a soft sigh, a testament to the security she felt within the fort of your family's making. As you and Abby settled into a quiet night within the fort's embrace, the echoes of shared laughter and whispered conversations lingered, weaving a tapestry of connection that outshone the shadows of the world beyond.
Sick reader
As the grip of illness tightened, every movement became an effort, and the fort that once symbolized comfort felt like a battleground. The warmth of Abby's hand on your forehead provided a fleeting moment of relief, but the persistent chill refused to subside.
Abby's voice, a soft melody of concern, cut through the fog of your discomfort. "You're burning up, love. We need to bring that fever down."
A feeble nod was your response as you buried your face in Abby's neck, seeking solace in the familiar scent of her. "I feel awful," you admitted, your voice muffled against her skin.
A gentle hand cupped the back of your head, Abby's fingers threading through your hair. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here."
The makeshift bed felt more like a sanctuary as Abby tucked you in with extra care. The soft touch of her fingers against your cheek brought a brief reprieve from the persistent ache.
Your daughter, sensing the gravity of the situation, wobbled over with a concerned expression. "Mama sad?"
Abby, ever the pillar of reassurance, knelt down to her level. "Mama's not feeling well, sweetheart. We're going to take care of her, okay?"
Your daughter nodded solemnly, her tiny hand reaching out to pat your arm. "I help Mama."
As Abby moved to fetch a damp cloth to cool your forehead, you clung to her with a desperate whine. "Abby, it hurts everywhere."
Abby returned promptly, pressing the cool cloth against your forehead. "I know, love. This will help. Just focus on getting some rest."
Despite the discomfort, a soft smile formed on your face as Abby's fingers traced soothing circles on your arm. The fort, once a backdrop for joyous play, now became a haven for healing.
Hours passed, the ebb and flow of fever dreams blending with the comforting presence of Abby. Your daughter, determined to contribute, presented a small cup of water, her eyes wide with earnest concern.
"Drink, Mama. It make you feel better," she urged, mimicking Abby's earlier actions.
You took a sip, the simple act bringing a momentary sense of relief. Abby, sitting by your side, squeezed your hand in silent encouragement. "Good job, sweetheart. You're helping Mama a lot."
As night fell, Abby nestled beside you, providing a reassuring presence. Your daughter, curled up on the other side, clutched a makeshift teddy bear, her eyes fluttering with exhaustion.
Abby's voice, a lullaby in the quiet night, soothed your restless mind. "Try to rest, love. I'll be right here."
You shifted, seeking comfort, and Abby adjusted to accommodate your weakened state. With a sigh, you murmured, "I just want to feel better."
"I know," Abby whispered, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm. "We'll get through this together."
In the stillness of the fort, time seemed to blur, but Abby's unwavering care remained a constant. As the fever ebbed and flowed, moments of lucidity brought a renewed appreciation for the warmth shared within these makeshift walls.
Days melded into nights, and with each passing moment, your strength slowly returned. Abby, ever attentive, kept vigil by your side, offering comfort in the form of gentle touches and encouraging words.
One afternoon, as the haze of illness lifted, your daughter toddled over with a bright smile. "Mama better now?"
You managed a weak but genuine smile. "Much better, sweetheart. Thanks to both of you."
Abby chimed in, her eyes reflecting relief. "You did great, little one. Mama's on the mend."
In the aftermath of sickness, the fort, once a refuge for playful adventures, transformed into a symbol of resilience and love. Your daughter, with her tiny hands and unwavering spirit, and Abby, with her steady presence and tender care, had turned the battle against illness into a testament of familial strength.
As the fort embraced a newfound tranquility, the echoes of shared laughter returned, this time layered with the triumph over adversity. With Abby by your side and your daughter's infectious giggles filling the air, the makeshift enclave stood as a sanctuary of love, resilient in the face of life's unpredictable challenges.
Now, with the worst of the illness behind you, Abby suggested a change of scenery. "How about some fresh air, love? A little walk might do wonders."
You nodded weakly, appreciating her thoughtfulness. As you slowly made your way outside, supported by Abby's steadying arm, the cool breeze carried a sense of renewal. The fort, while comforting, felt confining after days of illness.
Abby guided you to a quiet spot where you could rest. The dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a gentle glow. You leaned against Abby, taking in the serenity of the moment.
"Better out here?" Abby asked, her eyes filled with concern.
You smiled, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face. "Much better. Thank you for taking care of me."
Abby pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Always, love. That's what we do for each other."
As you savored the tranquility, your daughter toddled over, a flower in her hand. "Pretty flower, Mama!"
You accepted the gift with gratitude. "Thank you, sweetheart. It's beautiful."
Abby joined in, "Our little gardener is quite the artist."
With newfound energy, you engaged in a simple game of peek-a-boo with your daughter, laughter replacing the earlier pallor of sickness. Abby's watchful eyes reflected both.
Amid the attempt to enjoy the fresh air, a sudden wave of nausea surged within you, a stark reminder that the remnants of illness still lingered. Clinging to Abby for support, you felt a bead of sweat forming on your forehead.
Abby sensed the shift in your demeanor, concern etched across her face. "Love, are you okay?"
You attempted to nod, but a sudden bout of nausea overwhelmed you. Without warning, you lurched forward, and Abby swiftly guided you to a more secluded spot, away from the makeshift fort.
Your daughter, sensing the tension, toddled after you, her eyes wide with worry. "Mama? What happened?"
Abby knelt beside you, holding your hair back as the unfortunate events unfolded. The fort, once a sanctuary, now witnessed a raw and vulnerable moment.
You tried to apologize through the discomfort, "I'm sorry, Abby. I thought I was feeling better."
Abby, ever composed, offered reassurance. "It's okay, love. These things happen. Let's take it slow."
As you leaned against a tree, catching your breath, Abby fetched a makeshift canteen filled with water. "Take small sips. We'll wait here until you're ready to go back."
Your daughter, though puzzled, attempted to bring a sense of comfort. She handed you a soft cloth, her tiny hand pressing it against your forehead. "Cool, Mama. Make you feel better."
You managed a weak smile, touched by her empathy. "Thank you, sweetheart. Mama just needs a moment."
Abby's supportive presence and your daughter's genuine concern created an atmosphere of understanding. The fort, no longer just a backdrop for play, became a sanctuary for vulnerability and acceptance.
After a few minutes, as the queasiness subsided, Abby helped you stand. "Take it easy, love. We can head back whenever you're ready."
As you leaned on Abby for support, your daughter clung to your free hand, her expression a mix of curiosity and compassion. The fort, once a symbol of resilience, now bore witness to the nuances of recovery.
With each step back, the fort felt more familiar, and the sense of unity within this makeshift family strengthened. Abby's steadying presence, your daughter's innocent concern, and the shared acceptance of vulnerability turned the episode into a testament of the genuine connections forged amidst the challenges of the post-apocalyptic world.
As you settled back into the fort, Abby fetched a blanket and gently draped it over your shoulders. "Rest here for a while, love. We'll take care of you."
Your daughter, undeterred by the recent events, nestled beside you, offering a small plush toy. "Bear makes everything better, Mama."
You chuckled weakly, grateful for the simplicity of her gestures. "You're right, sweetheart. Bear does help."
Abby, sitting close, spoke softly, "You've been through a lot, but you're doing great. We're here for you."
In the quiet aftermath, the fort became a haven of recovery, a space where vulnerability was met with unwavering support. As you closed your eyes, enveloped in the makeshift embrace of blankets and love, the fort echoed not just with laughter but also with the resilience found in shared moments of acceptance and care.
Abby’s hot voice
As the night settled over the fort, casting shadows that danced in the dim light, you found a moment of quiet intimacy with Abby. The makeshift walls seemed to cocoon the two of you in a secluded space, away from the remnants of the day.
Abby, sitting by your side, traced gentle patterns on your hand as you gazed into the darkness beyond. The air was charged with a subtle energy, prompting you to speak your thoughts.
"You know, Abby," you began, your voice soft in the stillness of the night, "I've always loved your voice."
Her gaze shifted to you, curiosity in her eyes. "My voice?"
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. It's soothing, comforting. I love listening to you talk, especially late at night like this."
The shadows seemed to embolden your words as you continued, "It's more than that, Abby. I think your voice is really hot."
Abby's eyebrows arched in surprise, a mixture of amusement and warmth in her expression. "Hot, huh?"
You chuckled, feeling a hint of bashfulness. "Yeah, hot. There's something about it that just... I don't know, it gets to me."
A playful glint sparked in Abby's eyes. "Is that so? I never thought of my voice that way."
"It's true," you insisted. "Especially when you speak softly like you do now. It's like a secret shared between just the two of us."
Abby's laughter, a gentle melody in the quiet night, resonated with the vulnerability of the moment. "Well, I'm honored to have a 'hot' voice, then."
The fort, witnessing the exchange, felt like a sanctuary for confessions and shared intimacies. As the night wore on, you found comfort in the soft cadence of Abby's voice, the warmth of shared laughter, and the unspoken connection that deepened with each whispered revelation.
mechanic abby with a fem reader who works across the street from her needs her car fixed after it broke down on the street but doesn't have enough money so they do a different kinda payment :o
published <3
thinking about making a knight! abby anderson headcanon post!! this idea has infected my brain and left me no choice but to give in…
anyone who is interested or would like a tag just message me, comment or like xx
xoxo em 💋💋