I Do

i can't do it anymore. I NEED ELLIE AND ABBY 😭

🃁 𝖎 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖓’𝖙 𝖈𝖗𝖞 (𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖎 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖙) 🃁

𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚!𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲

⟡ now playing: 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔯𝔩 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔲𝔡𝔢 - 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔨𝔫𝔡, 𝔣𝔱. 𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔞 𝔡𝔢𝔩 𝔯𝔢𝔶 ⟡

pairing: mafia!abby x burlesque dancer!reader

cw: creepy men, violence, descriptions of blood, lowkey stalker abby vibes, fem!reader, anger issues, family trauma, minor character death mentioned (rip jerry), possessive behavior, dark sexual themes, mentions of b*sm, dumbification, dollification, shibari, exhibitionism, dom too!abby, sub bottom!reader, collaring, mommy/daddy kink, mentions of bad previous relationships, aftercare/no aftercare ; let me know if I missed anything!

an: hi pretties!! I had so much fun writing this! real throwback to mafia bf wattpad. I kind of went crazy :) likes reblogs and comments are encouraged they lift my spirits <3 let me know what other abby headcanons I should write or if I should make a pt 2 to this ❀ reqs are open too, send me something raunchy i’d love that ❀ btw- the images in the header do not reflect what the reader looks like in any way shape or form. also most of this fic is lower case bc I think it’s cute (nd i’m lazy) okay happy reading - sincerely, sugar ⋆˚✿˖°

𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤

✮ you had never met the elusive Abigail Anderson. all you knew was that she and her influential family had owned the burlesque club you had been dancing at since you were 18 for generations

✮ you only saw her in short flashes: long blonde hair, tattooed fists always clenched, in a power suit as she conducted business meetings in her upstairs office before leaving in a flurry of bodyguards

✮ tonight was like any other. you were backstage touching up your makeup and spraying glitter on your chest, prepping for the finale of the show. what you didn’t know was that your boss would be front and center for tonight’s show for the first time in the history of the establishment. the anderson family never sat amongst their clients, always in the balconies- if they found the time to break away from business, which was rare

✮ on stage, the lights illuminated your skin and you lip synced to the sultry music as you danced, slowly stripping item after item. tonight’s finale was your first solo and you were oh so nervous. as you slinked your way to the edge of the stage, the only item of clothing left being your red slip, your gaze connected with the one and only: abigail anderson

✮ her steely blue eyes bore into yours as she sat alone at the front table, scotch (neat) in a crystal glass. she sipped and raked her gaze up and down your form as you elegantly pulled your slip down your shoulders, leaving you bare for all to see in nothing but pasties and thigh high stockings

✮ you smiled coquettishly as the crowd erupted into applause, all but one soul, rowdily cheering for your performance. miss abigail’s grip on her glass tightening viscerally and you knew she could shatter it if she tried hard enough

✮ as you stand to exit the stage a hand closes around your ankle and you panic. a man below you has a vice grip on you and you feel your short lived confidence shrink

“give us an encore sweetheart” he slurs, and he lifts his other hand in a poor attempt to stuff dollar bills into the band of your stocking

you try to shake him off and his grip tightens as he attempts to climb on stage, “no need to get feisty sweetheart, you’re just a fucking stripper in fancier clothes,” he yells at you, “just a whore like the rest of ‘em”

✮ in the corner of your vision you see abigail surge from her seat, visibly shaking with rage as she makes her way over to you. but security beats her too it, two of them tackling and then frogmarching the intoxicated man away from you as other gently leads you back to the dressing room

✮ the security man says something into his earpiece and then asks you to wait- so you listen, wiping your makeup off and rummaging for some comfy clothes to change into

“miss anderson has requested your presence in her office.” the man tells you as you pull a soft sweater over your head. you nod and follow him upstairs. in all the years you’d worked here you’ve never been in this area of the club before and your nerves buzzed as you stood in front of the sleek black double doors.

✮ you pressed them open and inside, miss abigail was sitting behind a giant mahogany desk, her hand in a bowl of ice that was tinted slightly pink. she smiled at you in such a warm way that it took you by surprise, since it conflicted so much so with her serious exterior. she gestured for you to sit in the plush armchair across from her. you couldn’t see yourself ever saying no to her so you sat down

“are you alright?” she asked, sculpted brows furrowed in concern. “I just wanted to personally apologize to you for what happened tonight.”

“i’m fine really, it’s okay-”

“it’s not though,” she interrupted, her jaw clicking with anger. she rose from her chair, wiping her dripping, bruised fist on a monogrammed towel. “that mans entitlement knows no bounds. to have the audacity to touch you in my club!” she spits

✮ she comes to sit on the portion of desk in front of you, craning her neck down to meet your gaze. “i am so sorry.”

you’re at a loss for words. you don’t know what to do with yourself, all you can focus on is abigail’s intense gaze and injured knuckles

✮“bring him in” she says, speaking to the bodyguard in the corner of the room but still holding eye contact with you.

✮ two more guards drag in the man from before. but you hardly recognize him- his face is pummeled in, black and blue and bloody. you realize the blood in the ice bowl doesn’t belong to abigail. it belongs to him. the guards force the man to his knees to your left, and you stare at him. horrified.

✮ abigail doesn’t even spare him a second glance. “do you want me to kill him?” she says, causally but seriously. “he disrespected you. and since you belong to me, he has disrespected me as well. my club. my family name too. but most importantly: you.”

✮ you do double take. she can’t be serious. but she takes your horrified reaction in stride. abigail straightens and takes off her suit jacket, draping it over the back of her office chair. she removes an expensive looking knife from her pocket and stands behind the man, flicking it open and pressing the blade to his neck as she grips his hair, fiercely jerking his head to face you.

“apologize to the lady.” she says, darkly.

✮ you blink in disbelief as you watch him say sorry over and over, blood dripping from his mouth. a few of his teeth are missing. his apologies turn to pleads as abigail presses the knife deeper, drawing a bead of blood from his gullet. he begs for mercy over and over and over and over.

✮ some twisted part of you wants to watch him die. you’ve never had anyone stand up against the horrible men in your life, and just once you’d like one of them to pay. but you know you’ll never be able to live with yourself if his blood was on your hands.

“don’t kill him.” you whisper, gaze directed to the floor.

✮ abigail huffs, almost disappointed but nods and releases him. the man slumps to the floor and the bodyguards drag him out.

✮ abigail cleans the rest of the blood from her hands and puts her jacket back on. “how are you getting home?” she questions.

“I always take the subway ma’am” you say.

She feels a pull in her gut at the honorific, but ignores it. not yet.

“I’m driving you home.”

✮ she reaches for your hand and you can’t even argue with her, so you take it. she leads you downstairs through the back to her black fortified range rover. she opens the door for you and then slides in after, handing you a bottle of water as she casually tells her driver your address.

your grip tightens on the water bottle, “miss abigail, how- how do you know where I live?”

“I keep tabs on all of my investments,” she says breezily, with a soft hand on your thigh, “and please, from now on call me Abby.”

And you have ever since

𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡

✮ you and abby have been inseparable since that night at her club. she encourages you to have a life of your own, but you two are rarely seen without one by the others side

✮ abby is fast to call you her girlfriend. likes to refer to you as her lover or partner to others, because she needs them to know you’re hers. being abby’s has offered you a level of protection you’d never know. after a lifetime of being treated like you were less than dirt, the royal treatment that came with being informally apart of the anderson family was like a breath of fresh air

✮ abby gifts you a penthouse apartment after a week of being together. after seeing the walk up you used to live in, with its roach infestation and lack of security, she was quick to amend the issue. you spend most of your time at her brownstone though, because you can’t bear to be away from her

✮ out of concern for you safety (and slight jealousy) abby asks you to retire from dancing at her club. since you no longer need to worry about money you agree, always wanting to make her happy. you occasionally will give her a private dance in the privacy of her bedroom

✮ you learn that the anderson family are not just in the club and real estate business. their empire is built mainly on international drug selling and smuggling. sometimes abby will let you sample new products before they’re released on the market. one time you smoked something so strong it sent you into such an intense panic attack that the only way you could calm down was abby offering up her muscular, tattooed arm for you to drawn on. you filled in her ink with markers and it finally got your heart rate to settle. now when you ever feel overwhelmed or anxious she lets you do some doodling and you love her for it

✮ abby wants you to have a life and ambitions outside of being her little housewife, so she gives you a modest loan ($500,000) for you to do whatever you please with. you decide to start a charity that helps young children in the foster care system become classically trained in the dance style of their choosing. you want to help kids like the anderson family helped you, and abby is so proud of you. she helps you learn about business and financial literacy, wanting you to be self sufficient and confident. she also makes sure to show you how to take care of herself, and gives you self defense and shooting lessons

✮ abby is a good few years your senior, you being in your mid twenties and her being in her late thirties. but she never ever talks down to you or treats you like a child. she lets you go crazy and experience your youth, never telling you not to wear something revealing or how much to drink. she just holds your hair when you vomit in the toilet and always makes sure to have fresh bagels and painkillers on the bedside table when you wake up.

✮ abby’s usual composed, levelheaded nature only crumbles around the anniversary of her fathers death. her employees, family and friends all warn you of her violent outbursts and fits of anger during this time. but somehow, around you she finally leaned to cope with her grief differently. she talks about him out loud for the first time in years with you. she starts calling you ‘sunshine’ because you always chase her strorm clouds away

✮ abby likes to spend weekends at the country house in upstate new york when she wants a bit of fresh air. the first time she takes you up there is on your birthday. she introduces you to her dobermans, and the new puppy she got you. you name her sprinkles and carry her in your arms everywhere. if you’re in bed, sprinkles is in your lap while you read. she’s on the counter while you do face masks. she’s in your arms as you watch tv. you’re inseparable.

✮ abby’s most dangerous hobby/addiction is high stakes poker. the buy in can range anywhere from 25k to a million dollars. she likes it when you sit on her lap, keeping her company in a tiny dress while she plays, cigar tucked between her lips, hand full of cards, the other under your skirt. she doesn’t like when her opponents ogle you- but she does like when you sweet talk them and they distractedly play awful hands until she wins. she always sticks some of the cash under your bra strap and tells you to buy yourself something pretty, before smacking you on the ass affectionately. she calls you her good luck charm.

✮ abby is secretly a giant softie. she has a wicked sense of humor and kind heart, a side of her only you get to see. she doesn’t remember much of her mother but she does have the classic children’s literature books she passed down to her. you ask abby to read some to you, and she pretends not to be excited when you curl up in her lap, head tucked into her neck, while she reads ‘the little prince’ to you

𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔶

✮ after 2 years of dating abby proposes to you, late one summer night while on vacation in bali. she gives you her signet ring, with her family crest on it- you know it means much more to her than a traditional engagement ring because it’s one of the only things of her fathers she has left. you’re so happy you cry as she slides it on your finger. you’re still crying on the sunset helicopter ride over the ocean. you’re still crying when she holds you in bed back at the hotel, telling you how much she loves you and laughing adoringly at your outpour of emotion

✮ you get married in gorgeous chateau in the south of france with all your friends and family there to support you. you wear a costum made designer gown, and abby only lets a single tear fall when she sees you walking down the aisle, quickly wiping it away. she gets you a vintage cream colored Porsche as a wedding gift and you keep it for when you want to go on drives at the country house. during your first dance she twirls you around the ballroom to ‘at last’ by etta james

✮ abby loves having you as her wife but now that her ring is on your finger her jealous tendencies increase tenfold. she’s more possessive, touchier and angrier when men and women try to get with you

✮ you officially move into abby’s brownstone but keep your penthouse for girls nights (and the occasional fight when you can’t stand to sleep in the same bed as abby. but she always shows up at your door with flowers and you inevitably go back home with her)

✮ abby sometimes gets so caught up in her work she just holes up in her home office and forgets to eat or sleep. she likes having you live there because you’re always gentle to her when she forgets to take care of herself. you get her takeout from her favorite sushi place when she doesn’t have time for dinner and you keep her company when she’s stressed. either on the sofa with a book or sitting straddling her lap while she types around you. sometimes you sit at her feet and rest your head on her muscular thigh while she pets your hair. you like it because you can see the tension leave her body. you also like how submissive you feel beneath her

✮ on your 1 year wedding anniversary, you and abby get matching tattoos. she gets your first initial on her bicep, tucked between to older pieces she got done in her 20s. you get a capital ‘A’ inked on your hipbone, dangerously close to your cunt. sometimes abby will just pull down your skirt and slide your panties to the side to see it. she loves that you’ve basically branded yourself with her name. you belong to her in every sense of the word

𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 (𝔫𝔰𝔣𝔴)

✮ abby, being the twisted and tortured soul that she is, her sexual expression is quite dark, her kinks a little fucked up

✮ a little while into your relationship abby reveals to you that one of her personal establishments is a b*sm club that she regularly attended, engaging in sessions with a few submissives she had on her roster. she let them all go, letting them down gently when she began seeing you

✮ the first time you attend the club abby explains it all to you and you take it all in very earnestly. she’s surprised at how open you are and how you’re not running for the hills at some of the kinks she reveals to you

✮ the first time you have a scene together, it’s private, simple. abby establishes a safeword with you (you like the stoplight method) and she fucks your cunt with her thick fingers until your dripping down your thighs, pleading for her to stop. the first time she gives you aftercare you’re so confused as to why she’s being so nice to you. you’re used to hookups, and even some of your partners, just fucking you then rolling over. or just straight up leaving. abby draws a bath for you, with oils and salts for your sore muscles and you fall asleep in her arms submerged in lavender scented bubbles and foam.

✮ you discover that abby has a hardcore exhibitionism kink. she’s taken you against open windows and on balconies, at night and in broad daylight. she’s pressed up into you underneath the dinner table while out with friends. she loves to finger you with a small audience at the club, you on her lap on the sofa, legs spread for everyone to see while she forces your eyes to meet theirs with a painful grip on your jaw

✮ when she proposed to you, abby also presented you with a collar she bought for you to wear during scenes, only if you want to. and around the club occasionally. you’re not sure if you’re going to be into it, but as soon as abby fits it snug around your neck you almost cry from out perfect it feels. it’s the key to easing you into that beautiful submissive haze abby loves to see you in

✮ with abby you kindle a love for shibari. she doesn’t know much about the art but learns and researches extensively for you. sometimes she does decorative ties with pretty rope just to look at you in them- you love the feeling of being constrained and observed. you especially love being suspended, with dozens of eyes on you as you hang from the ceiling. sometimes abby will circle you like you’re prey and she’s a hunter. sometimes she’ll just pet your hair and tell you how pretty you look while you whine and beg for her to touch you more

✮ abby likes to be called mommy and daddy, depending on the day and her mood. mommy when she’s holding you in her lap, cooing at you while you cry from overstimulation, her fingers stuffed inside you. she’s daddy when she’s taking you from the back, smushing your face into the pillows as she fucks you through your fourth orgasm while you struggle to breath

✮ abby likes treating you like her little doll, buying clothes for you and putting them on for you. buckling your shoes too. she enjoyed casually being your dom outside of the club space. ordering for you. physically moving you where she wants you. she gets off on the idea of you being totally dependent on her (but only for the headspace it puts both of you in, she makes it very clear that she wants you to be your own person)

✮ abby usually doesn’t enjoy receiving when it comes to aftercare, but since being with you she lets you do small things for her. intimacy where she’s the focus makes her nervous but you reassure her that you just want to make sure she’s feeling loved. after an intense scene, only after you’re rested and taken care of, she’ll sometimes let you massage her back with vanilla scented oil. she also likes when you wash her hair for her. she has to kneel so you can reach her head since she’s so tall. this being one of the few times she’s ever on her knees for someone,

she’s glad that it’s for you

this was so fun to write, let me know what you think! ⋆˚✿˖°

ohmygosh fuck me

this scene makes me sick 😭

I was straight up CRYING!

and now im loaded ... i just get loaded ... i just got just got loaded.. , loadedd .... the sun , the sun ... im loaded .

☠︎ female reader x ghostface!abby ☠︎ (part one!)

synopsis: abby finds you trying on your halloween costume and wants a private show.

warnings. 18+ (mdni); perv!abby, sub!reader x dom!abby, teasing, kn!fe play, fingering, grinding, guided masturbation, strap receiving/sucking, mirror play, squ!rting, and spanking.

an: its fall-time and i am excited for halloween so lets goooo. also, anyone else love ghostface, just me okay.

wc: 1.1k

PART TWO

It was October 30th and you were still figuring out what you should wear to the costume competition tomorrow. This was different for you, you had actually decided to show your body more, shorter skirt, tighter bra, darker makeup, the works. You had been in your room posing in the mirror adjusting your fairy costume. You open your camera and snap a few pics, bending over, showing your thong, and seeing what the view would possibly be. 

A text from an unknown number comes up on your screen. 

I like your top. 

You noticed the photo attached is a view of your ass peaking out the skirt.

You peer over your shoulder, out your bedroom window, startled by the text. You sit on the edge of your bed, taken aback by the timing of the random message. 

Wrong number, you reply. 

Green corset? 

Your heart drops as you move to walk to close your blinds. 

I can still see you baby. 

You notice your closet door opened slightly, which was normal, right? You had been rummaging through your clothes all night, making up safer outfits. But that was earlier, you hadn’t been in your room since then. You feel a beat in your lower stomach as you realize you may not be alone. 

You hear the floorboards creak as you accept that you’ve become helpless. In the mirror you see the white and black mask creep from the closet, startling you with a knife in their dominant hand. It shimmered under the dim light of the candles coasted across your room. 

“That’s pretty.” They said.

You couldn't help but notice the strong physique of the masked killer. Rock-like biceps stretching out a black t-shirt, defined calves forced into black jeans, and most importantly large, bruised hands.

They circle over to you and flaunt their knife in your face. Although the threat of death was prevalent, you squeezed your thighs together at the sight of their veiny hands wrapped around the grip. Your clit grew as the knife came close into view. 

“You like this?” You say calmly. 

They nod, lifting their mask to show you their wet lips, then planting a kiss on yours. You noticed the deep jawline and blonde hair peeking from under the mask. She gets on the bed behind you swiftly, then drags the knife slowly up the innermost sensitive part of your arm. You tingled with frightened desire. 

“Take it off.” She demanded. 

“This?” 

You reached for the back of the corset top, unstringing each lace delicately. You hear her panting irregularly at the simple sight of your back. You move slowly which makes her panting deeper, impatient, and sultry. The bedazzled top dropped to the floor and she automatically dropped the knife to pull you onto her lap. She places her thigh in between yours and finds your sweetness, you sigh at the relief of finally having someone other than yourself touching your clit. She brings her hands up to your breasts. As she palms your nipples in the mirror and tugs them roughly between her fingertips, you groan in pain. 

“Shut up.” 

You bite your lip to stifle the pain you feel. She pulls them further than you could imagine, which makes you buzz as you grind up and down her thigh desperately. She dips her fingertips into your throat, gagging you more than you’d like to admit, leaving spit dripping down your chin. She brought her wet fingers to your erect nipples and rubbed in circles quite gently. You toss your head back onto her chest as she flicks them with her fingertips. She pushes you off her chest, onto the ground, with your ass exposed in your short skirt. 

“You were gonna wear this out?” She asked laying a hard smack across your ass. 

You wince and nod slowly as she trailed her knife against your spine. You gasped as you felt a slight pinch, wondering if she was drawing blood. She reaches towards your white thong and snaps it into two with the end of the knife. She pinches the back of your neck with her hand and draws your head back. 

“I don’t know why you thought that was a good idea. What pervs are you trying to attract?” 

“The ones like you.” You reply. 

She tosses you back on all fours at your snarky comment.

She picks up your mangled panties and goes sit at the head of your bed. She crosses her legs with her heavy boots shaking dirt all over your clean duvet. You don’t dare react, you stay still in the position you left her until you notice she’s waiting for something. You peer at her in the mirror, tussling your soaked panties in her hand. You sit in front of your mirror with her sight still trapped heavily over you. You spread your legs wide open and perk your breasts up, waiting for her commands. 

“Go ‘head, suck those fingers.” She demands. 

You bring your fingertips into your mouth with no hesitation and slide your tongue in between the two, the view alone makes her spread her own legs. You push your pussy downwards on the floor, attempting to reach some connection with your clit. You grind harder as you gag on your fingertips, eyes watering, face blushing, and spit coasting your bottom lip. 

“Touch those nipples for me,” she demands.

You pull your fingers out of your mouth and to your left nipple, which was pulsing already, you circled your areola and pulled on your peak, which made a moan slip out of your mouth. You move to your right, the most sensitive one, and flick it just the way you liked it when you were alone. Her hand unbuckles her black pants to reveal a dark purple strap. Her thick hands ran up the length of it, and you breathed deeply wanting to feel it inside you. 

“Oh, you see something you want?” She said mischievously. 

You couldn’t even speak so you just nodded. 

“Then show me how you want me to fuck you.” 

You didn’t hesitate to send two fingers inside your wet hole, they slid right in with no friction. You curled them inside, pounding your pussy, placing your palm against your clit. You grind and massage your clit at the same time, causing you to sweat ferociously imagining her six-inch strap inside you. 

“What should I call you baby?” You groan.

“Abby.”  She couldn’t resist at revealing herself, to know that she’s taking you over the edge.  

“Abby? You like how I’m fucking myself for you?” 

“I do.” Her hands reach under her shirt, feeling for her nipples. 

You continue to make eye contact with her, wherever her eyes had been behind that mask, and spurt out wetness onto the mirror. She couldn’t help but keep her eyes on your fingers hugging your pussy so generously. Before you come over the edge you turn towards the edge of the bed and sit upright. You bounce on your two fingers, like you were taking her strap, and making your ass jump for her. She muttered something under her breath but you couldn’t quite make out what she said as you went dumb for her. She crawled towards the edge of the bed and stuck the strap in your mouth. The warmth coaxed your tongue as she pushed the back of your head deeper into her core. You look up with your wet eyes to see her watching your ass shake in the mirror. She moaned as the friction of the strap pressed against her perky clit. 

You so badly wanted to kiss her after she removed her strap from your cheeks. You look up to her with desperation, ready to be fucked. 

Abby version of the hairstyle challenge 🫶🏼

Please credit if you repost!

Suddenly im the guitar