#abby x fem!reader

[echo-riot]

✞⛧𝒜𝒷𝒷𝓎 with a stoner girlfriend ✞⛧

✞⛧ Abby initially didn’t understand why her girlfriend was so chill all the time until she found her stash, which made everything click.

✞⛧ She teases her stoner girlfriend relentlessly about how much she zones out mid-conversation.

✞⛧ Secretly loves the calming energy her girlfriend brings into her chaotic life and often finds herself unconsciously mirroring it.

✞⛧ Abby doesn’t smoke herself but finds the smell of weed oddly comforting because it reminds her of her girlfriend.

✞⛧ She jokes about her girlfriend’s “snack hoard” but ends up raiding it when she thinks no one’s looking.

✞⛧ Gets oddly competitive during smoke sessions when she tries to prove she can roll better joints—even though she rarely partakes.

✞⛧ Abby insists on keeping her girlfriend hydrated during her high moments, constantly handing over water bottles.

✞⛧ She enjoys watching her girlfriend giggle uncontrollably at the dumbest things and secretly treasures these moments.

✞⛧ Abby lowkey loves stoner cuddles because her girlfriend gets extra clingy, and she secretly craves affection.

✞⛧ Whenever her girlfriend starts rambling about random high thoughts, Abby just listens with an amused smirk, occasionally chiming in with sarcastic remarks.

✞⛧ Her girlfriend once convinced her to try an edible, and while Abby didn’t enjoy it, she found her girlfriend’s excitement adorable.

✞⛧ Abby pretends to be annoyed when her girlfriend insists on sharing her high “philosophical breakthroughs,” but deep down, she finds them endearing.

✞⛧ She’s extremely protective of her girlfriend and will shut down anyone who judges her for her stoner habits.

✞⛧ Abby is the designated “anti-paranoia” partner, constantly reassuring her girlfriend during moments of overthinking while high.

✞⛧ Helps her girlfriend set up the perfect cozy vibe for her sessions—soft blankets, candles, snacks, and all.

✞⛧ Loves to watch her girlfriend paint or draw while high, marveling at the creativity that pours out of her.

✞⛧ Abby will carry her girlfriend to bed without hesitation if she falls asleep mid-session.

✞⛧ Abby finds her girlfriend’s slow, relaxed way of talking while high oddly soothing.

✞⛧ She becomes the ultimate snack hunter, venturing out during the apocalypse to find anything remotely edible for her girlfriend’s munchies.

✞⛧ Abby secretly loves when her girlfriend plays chill music during her smoke sessions; it becomes their shared downtime playlist.

✞⛧ They often sit on the roof together, watching the stars while her girlfriend passes a joint, creating small pockets of peace amidst the chaos.

✞⛧ Abby jokingly calls herself the “responsible one,” always keeping an eye on her girlfriend to ensure she doesn’t get into trouble.

✞⛧ She doesn’t quite understand all the stoner lingo her girlfriend uses but nods along anyway to make her happy.

✞⛧ Abby once got caught in a coughing fit when she tried to “impress” her girlfriend by taking a puff—her girlfriend laughed for ten minutes straight.

✞⛧ She’s overly cautious about her girlfriend carrying her stash and keeps it hidden in their safest spot.

✞⛧ Abby has an uncanny ability to find the perfect hiding places for her girlfriend’s stash in their camp.

✞⛧ She doesn’t mind her girlfriend being a stoner as long as it doesn’t interfere with survival, though she jokes about her getting high during critical moments.

✞⛧ Abby secretly loves giving her girlfriend piggyback rides when she gets too giggly and tired to walk back to camp.

✞⛧ Finds it hilarious when her girlfriend accidentally wanders off during a smoke session and has to be reeled back in.

✞⛧ Abby once walked in on her girlfriend talking to their dog while high and couldn’t stop laughing for days.

✞⛧ She teases her girlfriend about having “high ideas” but always listens because some of them are surprisingly good.

✞⛧ Abby can tell when her girlfriend’s high just by the dreamy look on her face and how she plays with her hair.

✞⛧ She becomes the ultimate caretaker when her girlfriend has too much, making sure she’s safe, comfortable, and not freaking out.

✞⛧ Abby secretly loves when her girlfriend’s high compliments turn into long, heartfelt rambles about how much she loves her.

✞⛧ She’s surprisingly patient when her girlfriend gets the giggles, even though she’s trying to have a serious conversation.

✞⛧ Abby will carry her girlfriend home in her arms if she gets too sleepy after a session, even if she grumbles about it.

✞⛧ They bond over creating scavenged “stoner meals,” combining the weirdest ingredients to make surprisingly tasty snacks.

✞⛧ Abby loves seeing her girlfriend’s artistic side come alive during smoke sessions and always encourages her creativity.

✞⛧ Despite her tough exterior, Abby finds her girlfriend’s chill, carefree energy grounding and comforting in a world full of chaos.

[electricneonvalkyrie]

I really love this scene.

There are a few in depth topics I'd like to one day cover, but for now, I think opening up the conversation about her PTSD is pretty prevalent.

Also, I'm captivated by the way Manny shows up for Abby in this moment of vulnerability.

It genuinely confuses me when I read reviews or hear comments about Manny not having a personality or the story lacking in character development.

Just at a first glance, you can see their body language depicting a bond rooted in trust and mutual respect.

Manny wakes her perhaps too abruptly, but immediately leans into disarming language and open, non-threatening hands to calm her. He picks up on her defensive posture instantly and he's deliberate with his movements and tone after the fact.

He doesn't infantalize or shame her, which I think is extremely important and also speaks volumes about his character and their unique dynamic. But he understands how to approach her when her strength is peeled back to the cracks beneath.

The way he watches after her as she gets up off her makeshift bed stands out to me too.

Manny might be a womanizing pain in the ass on the outside, but deep down, he genuinely cares for the people in his circle. Abby especially.

[rhyrhy]

Child of a Seraphite

Cw: death, grief/guilt, TLOU universe, angst, Abby finds her way with parenthood! 3.k words, Longer read. Not fully proofread

What does it take to pull a woman out of a life fueled by vengeance? The answer: you, and a baby.

M.list

Present Day

The small room was coated in the soft, warm yellow glow of the worn window. That old jacket hung behind the wooden door. The only sounds were of gentle breathing and the faint rustle of sheets against clothed skin.

Little Lev slept peacefully, his tiny hand half clenched around the hem of Abby’s shirt. You lay propped on your elbow beside them, watching the scene unfold. It was precious, really. You, her, lev and the safety of this room. After everything, this felt like a dream. A small smile tugged at your lips as you took in Abby’s half-asleep face. Her head rested heavily on the pillow, her braid draped next to her. You couldn’t resist the urge to tease her.

“You know,” you whispered, careful not to wake lev, “he’s starting to look like you.”

Abby huffed out a sleepy laugh, her eyes still closed. “Oh yeah?” she whispered back. “You seeing a resemblance?”

“Twins. No doubt,” you replied, biting back a laugh. Knowing The three of you looked like you’d been plucked straight from a diversity ad. in the most endearing way possible, of course.

Abby chuckled under her breath, and draped an arm over her eyes. Eventually after some more sleepy snickers she shushed you. You both needed rest before tomorrow. Another day of this new normal you both found yourself tangled in.

Around One year ago

The WLF base was alive with its usual routine soldiers training, patrols heading out, and the familiar buzz of machinery echoing through the safety of the walls. You were in the middle of unloading supplies when some commotion started. You paid it no mind at first, you had your own task to do. Drama was the last thing you needed to be involved with.

When you heard it.

“Abby’s back!” a soldier shouted, running past you. The heavy steps growing faint as they disappeared from your line of sight.

Abby, You hadn’t seen her in god knows how long, not since she left to chase whispers of the Fireflies. The last time you saw her, you’d gotten into a huge fight. You two had this unspoken tension and then she suddenly announces that she’s leaving and has no idea when she’ll be back. It took Issac separating you two to end the discussion with no room for rebuttal. She was going, end of story. All you could do was hope for a safe return or just one at all.

You dropped the crate of supplies in your hands, heart pounding filling your ears as you turned to face the large gates. The thought of seeing her again, made you feel a mix of relieved and terrified.

she had been determined, revengeful, dead-set on her mission that she refused to explain too much of. And now?

There she was. Abby was here.

dirty and bloodied, trudging into the base with exhaustion in every footstep. Some familiar faces scrabbled over to help, looking like she was going to collapse face first onto grass below her tired feet. Those broad shoulders slumped, Your breath caught in the back of your throat as she stopped a few feet away. her eyes meeting yours for the first time in what seemed like forever.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything. You were glad she’s back, you were sorry for the fight, you were pissed that she left you with no hug or proper bye—you wanted to say a million things at once, to save time.

But all that was pushed to the side when you seen a tiny hand reach up out of the old jacket she was tightly clutching…swaddled?

Your voice was low, full of surprise as you stepped closer to her.

“Is that a…?”

Abby shifted on her sore feet, glancing down at the baby before looking back at you. “A baby” she said, almost breathless. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

And then it struck you—there was no one else with her. No backup, no team. Just Abby and the baby.

“Abby- Wh- …what the hell happened out there?” you asked, stepping closer, voice low so the growing crowd of onlookers couldn’t hear. Whispers already starting.

Abby glanced at the baby again, her jaw tightening. “It’s… it’s a long story.”

The ‘long story’

To say this journey’s outcome was the complete opposite of what Abby expected, is beyond an understatement.

Here she was, the same woman who can bench a little over two hundred pounds was captured. At the mercy of the cult the ‘wolves’ The WLF had been at war with. ‘Scars’ Seraphite’s. Hung suspended, her arms and wrists wrenched painfully behind her, the thick ropes cutting into the skin of her neck as she wiggled. Burning with each movement. Her breaths came in sharper gasps, blood trickling from the corner of the small cut on her lower abdomen. Her vision beginning to blur.

“Cut her down” Yara panted out, her back pressed against a large rock, wincing with every breath. Her other arm remained clenched tightly around an old, worn jacket, refusing to let it go even during chaos. The tussle was over now, Three of her ‘own’ now lay dead. Deserved, as it was them or who she was protecting.

“She’s one of them-“ The other scar, cross bow in hand protested.

“Just do it!” she commanded. “Demons are coming, hurry”

With a loud thud to the ground Abby ripped the noose off of her neck. Then quickly staggered to her feet, body on fire from being bound for so long. Small cut stinging on her lower stomach. However, before she could fully orient herself, the wounded young woman thrusted something into her arms. As she couldn’t with her now broken one. Holding it there firmly against her chest.

A baby.

Abby froze, staring down at the tiny, squirming bundle in disbelief. “What the hell—”

“It’s my brother,” Yara interrupted, her voice breaking as she turned to yank the axe of a dead body “We have to go. Now!”

The groups feet were moving faster than their minds, survival being the only thing on it.

But Unfortunately, for the wounded young woman, She’d have to make one last sacrificial effort to keep her brother alive.

Gunned down by wolves as a distraction for the safety of her brother, yara laid there. A sight Abby would never forget. But the one thing she would? The promise she made to now lifeless body. Her last words being…

“You Take him… take him to your people. Promise me, he lives.” Yara’s plea was barely above a whisper, eyes locked onto Abby’s.

And promise, she did.

The air was thick, mixed with the pit of devastation in Abby’s gut. The only thing keeping her moving was her feet. After Yara’s sacrifice, Abby alone with a crying baby that she couldn’t seem to soothe. had to now make her way back to Seattle. What the hell was happening. What the hell was she going to do with a baby. The baby of the cult who’d almost disemboweled her. The child of a scar.

With almost being bitten, annoying cries she couldn’t coo away, and the stench of a dirty make shift diaper Abby was beyond exhausted. This journey was seeming to be more than she could handle, But she had promised the woman who’d saved her life. It had been weeks but That lingering feeling of that rope around her neck sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine. Without yara and the other scar who’d gotten spilt up during the mess of escaping infected, she’d be hung.

Take him, protect him. She promised.

Revenge now taking a momentary backseat..but with that, bring the spawn of the enemy wasn’t going to blow over lightly. despite her reasoning and constant explanations tensions inside the walls rose. A faction within the WLF distrusts Abby for returning with a Seraphite child, now seeing her as a liability.

It was getting out of hand. Lips of other soldiers got looser than needed. However, you seemed to be a solace as she’d seek you out to rant about the growing conflict.

“I mean he’s a child for Christ sake!” “Leave him out to what, Die? Are they insane?!”

You could recite her words like a song at this point. Some days she wouldn’t even knock on your door, just opening it and leaning on it with her arms crossed tightly Across her chest. You would give her the green light to get it all out, and trust it poured out every time. The words were full of colorful language and most importantly hurt.

Those light arm pats and words of reassurance gave her more strength to stand her ground than she’d admit to you, not now anyway. Those looks that were held too long, her shoulder brushing against yours while sitting quite close, or the blush that crossed your face when she adjusted your hold on a weapon you were unfamiliar with. Occasional pillow talk of this farm you’d found, joking of how’d cute you’d look in overalls cleaning up the place. Came pouring back in with light flashes as two came back around each other more. Much more.

It started with you having a little more knowledge in this department, you found yourself doing the little things to help her out.

“Here, uh..try this” you said adjusting the child’s head in the crook of her arm to support his head.

The Light touches and small smiles became another silent reoccurrence. Along with taking lev for a few hours so she could rest. Falling into this oddly comforting position didn’t sway you away. She was asking you for help, she never did that before leaving. Everything was ‘I got it’ or ‘I’ll handle it myself’ but now things were miles different. Amongst this, typical Manny making a passing comment on how well you two coparented, made you both awkwardly laugh. Feeling the cracks from before begin to fill with this new experience.

Yes, You two still hadn’t spoken about where you stood before she left. You decided to choke it back, there was something much bigger now. Another life, innocent and blissfully aware of the cruel words being spat him and his saviors way.

Abby had a decision to make. And fast.

But how is she supposed to turn over this child who clearly was not better off. Yet, her loyalty being doubted was stinging just as equally.

Days blended together as the sky stormed along with Abby’s conflicting feelings.

A situation she’d never thought she’d find herself in, standing with her arm out over the child protectively. The heavy drumming of rain against the metal roof of the outpost and almost drowning out the muffled arguments behind the door. her jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.

They wanted him gone.

“He’s a liability,” Isaac’s voice echoed in her ears. “We took you back, Abby. But that… that Seraphite child has no place here.” “If you wish to follow in Owen’s footsteps of betrayal you may do so, outside of these walls.”

They wanted her gone.

Her knuckles brushed her pants, fist clenched. Nails digging into her palm to control her temper.

Isaac’s words felt like they were carved deeper into her skin than any wound she’d gotten these past few months of travel. “You owe us, Abby. His presence is risking the people here, the people who took you in. You choose. Him or us.”

The ultimatum that felt like it had no right answer.

One night, Abby entered your room quietly. The soft click of the door woke you.

There she stood, teary eyed, cheeks stained and a look of defeat smacked on her face. Lev on her hip, had his small head rested on her chest, half awake. Belongings that were once in hand, now dropped next to her with a harsh thud.

before you could ask her what’s going on it came out with a choked sob, ramblings of the past few months and how it was all weighing on her.

You learned of her promise to yara, and you saw the hardened woman who was once full of stubbornness and hatred now a beaten down emotionally drained individual. Pleading for the universe to ease up on her. Tore between the walls that she once called home and failing the child she promised to keep safe, from a woman who now only a memory.

You’d stood frozen in place before embracing the broken woman who looked like her knees would buckle under her with the slightest gust of the wind.

When you pulled back looking at her and the small figure clinging onto her, that conversation washed over you, a lightbulb flickered on.

It was as nuts as it sounded but you asked her anyway.

Before she left the base

“…Like old McDonald?” Abby laughed, listening to you describe a farm you’d come across while traveling Wyoming before joining the base.

You asked her to imagine it. The grass, fresh air, and warm sun beaming down on her skin during the summer.

“Hey, I’m being serious! Give me a broom and hammer I’d make it sparkle. Swear” you joked, and continued to explain how’d you live on the land. Taking the skilled you’d learned to the new environment.

Abby felt a pang of warm air pass over her seeing you in hopes of finding a more peaceful and quiet life. She agreed, but debated with finding the comfort of routine at the base. Losing herself in the conversation. Loving how you seemed to have an answer for almost every rebuttal she threw out.

And now a year later, you asking her if she’d be willing to take this shot in the dark. Making it a reality.

With you. Now.

After a few more days of preparation, she placed one foot outside the gates of base. Looking over her shoulder to the familiar faces she’d once found comfort in only to met with cold gazes because of the small hand she promised to hold. To keep alive.

A few nights before

A heavy sigh echoed as Abby carefully folded small clothes into a not too heavy duffel bag. Uncertainty hung in the air. Was this really what she wanted?

Manny leaned against the doorframe, watching his friend prepare to make a decision that wouldn’t just shift her life but his too.

“You’re really doing this, huh, amiga?”

“I am” she said dryly.

After a few more beats of tense silence weighted between them, He stepped into the room, handing over a small stuffed animal from behind his back. A worn elephant plushie came into her vision, a farewell gift. What a sweetheart he was. Her shoulders eased and she let herself actually talk to him.

Manny softened, leaning down to zip up one of the bags. “Abs, I get it. Just… you better come back if this whole farm thing doesn’t work out. You’ll be missed here. Despite the bullshit, you will”

Abby paused, taking the plushie from his hand, gently packing it away. “Thanks, Manny. For everything.”

“No need to get mushy, not your style” he said with smile. “And , if you ever need a babysitter…you know where to find me.”

“Mhm… I’ll send a postcard, yeah?” She replied jokingly feeling a small weight be lifted.

“Yeah” he repeated and gave her a small ‘you got this’ back pat.

As her other foot stepped outside the gates, she pushed any uncertainty down. She was keeping her promise, for yara…

For herself,

For lev.

The first night settled in Wyoming

Lev, feeling restless had cry’s bouncing off the wooden walls of the semi empty room. Abby sprung awake, heavy breathing as it startled her. With a heavy groan, she made her way over to try and hush the child. After no avail, you felt a small shake on your leg. On the make shift bed that was surprisingly comfortable for the time being.

“Your turn” Abby said with a pout.

You shift in the blankets, taking a moment to take in the image of this hardened soldier, hair a mess, half asleep, holding a baby out to you.

The sight never failed to make your heart swell. A beautiful sliverlining in this world which showed no mercy. A hand slowly made it way to cover your mouth.

Abby tilted her head in confusion, then a small smile crept on the corner of her lips.

“Oh this is funny to you?”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, she followed suit after a halfhearted eyeroll. Yeah, Moments like this were definitely the sweet after the sour. Moments like this, reminded her of the tough decision she’d made. Feet sore, eyes heavy, but a smile on her face.

And you’d be damned if you thought she wouldn’t choose it all over again.

————————————————-

Note: the idea of baby lev was too cute not to write! It doesn't follow the original story but idk I like this version! And yes I brought out the farm! Abby deserves the peaceful life too! Me writing a happy ending for once Any typos will be fixed LMAO

Thank you for reading!! 💐

[abbysgirl]

ovulating hours

(from bxmbmiru on pinterest)

[sevikashexstrapp]

Don’t mind me just thinking about how much Abby whimpers, squirms, and whines when reader is giving her head or pumping their fingers in Abby, like you can not tell me that she is always a top like yea she is mostly a top but she can be submissive like look at her pouty lips you can tell she goes crazy when you rub her scalp and run your fingers down her jaw and don’t even get me started about how much she likes being called puppy

[cyber333angel]

TWITTER P***LINKS (feat: SEVIKA, ABBY ANDERSON and ELLIE WILLIAMS !)

sevika -

making sure your full of her

hair pulling and reverse cowgirl

spit kink

choking you

taking a selfie

sevika releasing some stress on you after a long day

in silcos office

oral fixation

dry humping before work

bullying you for wearing a tight skirt

abby -

riding abby

making you suck on her strap

against the wall

making you dumb with all her pounding

tribbing

in public

worshipping your tits

making out

welcoming boxer!abby home with kisses on the counter

abby eating you out greedily as usual

ellie -

helping you cum before bed :((

passion with the strap

fingering you

overstimulating you

sitting on her face

p***y slaps

you and ellies typical morning (looks just like her 😋)

nice and slow

eating ellie out on a run

honorable mention :

ambessa -

finally fingering you after all your whining

making you wait

stretching you out

being rough :((

[trackinglessons]

abby is beefy and chubby and i will die on this hill if you think otherwise ur wrong

[femmeroll]

imagine abby cumming just from using the strap on you 😵‍💫

men & minors dni

note: abby x fem reader, strap referred to as cock, breeding mention briefly

there you lay, on the bed, legs hoisted over abby’s broad shoulders. her pace is brutal, practically bruising your insides with every thrust.

“good girl…” she moans, sweat dripping down her forehead. “fucking take it.”

while abby may seem in control, she’s falling apart on the inside. her clit is throbbing, rubbing against the base of her strap.

“y-you like takin’ my cock baby? fuckin’ love this pussy…feels so good” she whines.

you can tell abby is close. her pace is faltering, her breathing is shaky, and her face is getting redder and redder.

she’s just so sensitive! and you look so pretty all fucked out beneath her, how could she not get off on it???

you’re close too, obviously. the mixture of abby’s thick cock pumping into you, and her cute face as she’s about to cum? it’s perfect.

“you’re tightening on be baby…fuck. you wanna cum on my cock?” she chuckles, trying to hold off her orgasm until you cum first.

but she just can’t. “baby, gonna fucking cum. deep inside you. gonna…shit….gonna breed this pretty pussy so full.”

you cum as soon as she says this, whimpering her name, head tipping back.

“that’s it. cum on my cock” she moans. “m’ gonna fill you up.”

abby practically growls, hips stuttering and cumming against her strap.

[mystellenia]

dom!abby losing control୨ৎ

summary: abby's composed and rough facade is destroyed by an unexpected and embarrassing orgasm.

content: answer to this req!! dom!abby, kinda mean! abby, sub!reader, make out, fingering (r!receiving), teasing, humiliation if you squint and shake the phone, strap on sex (muehehehhehe) (r!receiving), overstim (a!receiving), abby being rough with reader, degrading (r!receiving)

notes: havent posted in almost 2 months 😍 school is whooping my ass and midterms are coming up so basically i’ll be killing myself soon. enjoy this to feed on for the next x weeks until i post again

(wc 1.8k)

abby's rough hands grip onto the backs of your thighs and lift you up, dropping you harshly on the kitchen counter as she cups the back of your neck to pull you back in for a kiss. you throw your arms around her neck, and your fingers make quick work of undoing the golden braid falling down the length of her back, scratching her scalp and making her groan. 

you grab her hair in fistfuls and pull on them to expose her neck, abby hissing at the twisted pleasure prickling across her scalp. her throat bobs with a thick swallow while you coat the skin of her neck with sloppy kisses, her hips hungrily grinding up into yours.  

"jesus, baby... fuck." abby's hands grab the hem of your loose t-shirt to lift it over your head, your braless tits exposed and nipples hardening at the sharp chill of the air. her swollen lips latch onto the side of your neck and make you dizzy, and you swiftly undo her belt buckle and pull it out of her jeans' belt loops. just when you unbutton them and grab onto the zipper to unzip it, her thick, rough palm closes around your throat, and you choke on your saliva at the startle. 

"you're being especially whorish today. slow down—you're not the one in control here." her thumb and first two fingers squeeze on the sides of your throat and restrict the blood flow to your head, making it feel heavy on your shoulders and your vision deliciously fog up.  

she slowly releases her iron grip on your throat and slides her hand down to your chest, her left hand tweaking and palming at your nipple. with her other hand, slow and deliberately teasing, she unties the drawstring of your pajama pants and pulls one leg out of them, spreading your legs wide to make room for her muscular body to fit in between them.  

you're left with only underwear on, your thin pajama pants floppily dangling from your foot from behind abby's back. abby roughly shoves her hand into your underwear and cups you, feeling your thrumming clit on her palm and the small wet spot on your underwear on her knuckles. 

breathing into your ear, she mumbles, "be good for me and don't fucking move, 'kay?" she then harshly thrusts her middle finger into your pussy, its soft walls quickly morphing to make room for the intrusion. you cry out and throw your head back into the kitchen cabinet, softly wincing at the impact.  

she presses inside you on that smooth spot at exactly the depth of her finger, almost as if she was the only one meant to find it, and your eyes water the way they always do when she massages inside you. her now swollen lips scatter bruises and marks along the side of your neck in a line, breadcrumbs to remind you in the morning of the skilled way she undoes your composure so easily.  

"i'll never get enough of the way your skin tastes," she purrs into your shoulder, and you pathetically whine in response, her brazen praises flustering you beyond words. she tries, and fails, to ignore the needy throbbing of her neglected clit underneath the seam of her pants, the slightest movement pressing the seam up against it and making her clench. 

golden waves cascade down her face and frame her strong cheekbones, hiding the way her eyes stayed high up in the back of her head at the smell of your skin. your fingers tightly thread through her hair, your grip tightening as you periodically let out little mewls into the shell of her ear.  

she trades the massaging of your g-spot for slow, but deep thrusts into your pussy, adding her index finger without warning and making your back bow. 

"oh, my go- my- abby," you pant out, unable to get more than three words out at a time before her careless ruining of your weeping cunt sucks the air out of you. you start babbling how she shouldn't stop, a telltale sign that your climax was approaching. 

your hand shoots to the wrist pumping her fingers into your pussy, your fingers wrapping around it in a vice-like grip to try and slow her movements down in overstimulation. her free hand snaps to your jaw and squeezes your cheeks together, condescendingly shaking your head side to side. 

"why you grabbing my wrist, baby? you want me to stop? yeah?" her voice raises in pitch to mock your whining. "you wanted this so fucking bad, so take it, slut." 

she throws your head back against the cabinet and shakes her wrist of your hand, beginning to jackhammer her fingers into your abused hole at a murderous pace. in the corner of your nearly closed eyes, you see your pajama pants fall from your foot to the floor. your whining and whimpering quickly fills the room, all the while abby watches every change in your face with a close eye.  

you cum with a yelp, both hands flying to her own to stop her brutal assault while you dumbly stare into her eyes slack jawed with your brows tightly twisted in ecstasy. abby removes her fingers from inside you and immediately pulls your face to hers, teeth clashing in a lewdly sloppy kiss.  

planting her hands underneath your thighs, she effortlessly hoists you up and carries you down the hall to your shared bedroom, all without disconnecting your lips once. upon entering, she throws you down onto the bed and swiftly pulls her henley over her head, her small boobs clad in a simple, grey bra. 

"go get me my cock, baby. the black one." her pants were already unbuttoned from your earlier rushed undressing, but the zipper still remained untouched. her thick fingers pinch the silver and slowly slide it down, and you quite literally salivate at the sight.  

pushing down a thick swallow, your body turns towards the closet to get abby's strap. your head closely follows after tearing your sticky gaze from her now exposed v-line, little tufts of light brown hair leading to her core in a teasing, almost coaxing way. upon entering the closet, you bend down to the dark blue box in the corner of the small room, and your nipples brush your knee, suddenly making you aware that she so effortlessly ordered you to get her strap, and you so pliably listened, almost fully naked, at that. you might as well have crawled to the closet on all fours with how you mindlessly obeyed her like a dog does its owner. 

shaking your mild embarrassment, you palm the long, dark strap and pivot back around to return to abby. she stands tall and sturdy—unmoving like a tree—watching your naked figure make its way back to her. 

"take your underwear off for me," she says under her breath, her breathing made heavy by hunger. 

you perch on the edge of the bed and scoot back, pulling your underwear down your legs and kicking it off to some spot on the floor. abby pushes her jeans and boxers over her ass just enough for the base of the strap to sit snugly against her pounding clit once she steps into the harness, the contact enough to make her sharply wince. 

grabbing you by the ankles, she roughly pulls you to the edge of the bed and lifts your feet up near each side of her head, rubbing her warm palms up and down your legs. simultaneously, her hips push forward and slide the length of the strap along your pussy, the toy gliding against your skin with ease thanks to the obscene amount of cum that coated your lips from your orgasm. 

"please... just... just put it in," you whisper, tired of the teasing. 

"i will. just wait a little—be patient." she gently lowers your legs to wrap around her hips and lock behind her back. then, she pauses before adding, "do you know how to do that when you're acting like such a slut?" like she'd caught herself being too nice and had to balance it out. 

all you can do is whine in response and hope to feel the delicious sting of her pushing the tip in soon. her hips rock back and forth one, two, three times while she intently watches, entranced by the way your pussy clenches every time the tip of her cock passes over your clit. 

her hips sharply jerk back, and she incoherently mutters a string of words under her breath. ending her cruel teasing, she swipes her hand down your swollen cunt to gather your cum and coats the tip of the strap with it. lining it up with your twitching hole, she sinks into you and smirks at your jaw dropping ever lower in pleasure. 

she starts her thrusts in a rather swift cadence, luring sweet cries out from your throat, suppressed grunts coming from her own. 

"fuck, i've been thinking about this all day. you don't even know, baby." her speech comes out fast and strained as she tries to speak before her groans and grunts interrupt the words. "i could live in this pussy, and it would welcome me with tears running down your legs." 

"yes," you pant out, the one word your dumbified brain can remember. 

very quickly, though, abby's thrusts get random and sloppy. shrill, high-pitched squeaks spill from her lips, a striking contrast to her formerly composed grunts and dirty words. she abruptly pulls out, and her hands frantically dart to her hips to push the base of the strap off her engorged clit, her lower stomach hurting from overstimulation. 

with the harness shoved down to her mid-thigh, she sat on the edge of the bed partially turned away, muttering a quiet shit to herself. you gawk at her with scared, wide eyes, terrified that something had gone wrong or hurt her. you see her eyelids flutter as she turned away in what seemed like embarrassment. her chest was madly rising and falling, too, from her attempts to catch her breath, and you scoff in both disbelief and twisted arousal. 

"baby," you call out, placing your hand on her bicep. "did you just cum?" 

she's quiet for a long while before shoving her face into her hands to hide her humiliation. "god, i didn't mean to." 

you can't help but let out a little giggle, and she falls back onto the bed, throwing her arm over her eyes. "it's not funny!" 

"it kinda is," you tease, but your laughter dies in your throat when you see a small wet patch on her pants where the base of the strap touched the fabric. 

you lick your lips, letting your eyes drop to her bra and thinking of the skin it so cruelly hid. 

"it was really hot, too." 

@abbysbug @abbys-gay @abbysunderwear @moonalumi @andersonsprincess

@abbysgirl1 @totalfinalgirl @90yearoldbear @hypnagogics @pretty-forest-nymph

@sapphicxprincess @carti9 @seraphicsentences @wxwrites @veraandrea7

all done yayaya. i dont know why i cant write something under 1k words like i told myself this was gonna be short and then i hit 4 pages and was like oopsies. u better like it bc i have a huge exam tomorrow that i shouldve been studying for but instead i was writing this erotica to post on tumblr.com. so go ahead and smash that subscribe button and reblog a billion times and comment your favorite part of this video (erotica posted to tumblr.com)

kay night night western hemisphere baddies goodmorning/afternoon everyone else love u bye bye

[cupidsribbns]

beefy chubby abby i love you

[abbyscoochiecruncher]

NEEDDD PLEASE

Uncensored under cut!

I always give her a belly button piercing

[echo-riot]

✞⛧Sevika/Abby/Ellie if you cheated on them ✞⛧

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, angst m?

✞⛧ Sevika ✞⛧

✞⛧ Sevika doesn’t react right away. She’s too angry, too betrayed to speak. The silence between you two feels suffocating. She just stares at you, her grey eyes turning cold like metal, her jaw clenched so tight you can almost hear her teeth grind.

✞⛧ She’ll act like it doesn’t bother her at first. She’s tough. She’s not the kind of person who lets things like this get to her. But the truth is, it cuts deeper than any blade. The realization that you—her person, her ally, the one person she’d let in—would do this to her? It’s too much. It’s a betrayal she can’t shake off.

✞⛧ Don’t expect her to shout, to throw things, to cry. Sevika doesn’t cry. She’ll leave instead, disappearing for a few hours, but when she comes back, she’s colder than before. Her metal arm will be clenched tight, and her voice will be low, almost a growl, when she speaks.

✞⛧ She’ll corner you in a room and ask in the most dangerous tone possible, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think I’m that stupid?” But there’s no yelling. It’s all calm, controlled rage.

✞⛧ Sevika will demand answers, but she won’t beg. She’ll force you to say the truth, to admit it, and when you do, her gaze will be so intense, so full of pain, that it’ll break your heart to see it. But she won’t show the hurt on her face. No, she’ll mask it with anger, with disgust.

✞⛧ She’ll remind you of everything she’s done for you. All the times she protected you, fought for you, killed for you. How she made you hers in every sense of the word. But now? Now you’ve thrown it all away for someone else. For what? A stupid mistake?

✞⛧ Sevika won’t scream. She won’t make a scene. But her body will shake with fury, her fists clenching at her sides. If you don’t beg her to stay, if you don’t apologize properly, she will walk away. Not even a backward glance.

✞⛧ You’ll feel the weight of her absence for days, weeks, months. When you come across her in public, you’ll see the way others look at you with pity, knowing what you did. But Sevika? She’ll act like you never existed. She’ll keep her distance, refusing to give you the satisfaction of seeing her hurt.

✞⛧ She won’t immediately forgive you. It’ll take time. If she does forgive you, it’s not going to be easy. She’ll keep you at arm’s length, never fully trusting you again. And when she does decide to let you back in, there’s no guarantee you’ll be the same person you were before. You’ll have to prove you’re worthy of her trust again, and that won’t happen overnight.

✞⛧ If you beg for her forgiveness, don’t expect it to be given easily. Sevika’s pride won’t let her give in that quickly. She’ll make you work for it—show her you’re sorry, prove that you won’t do it again.

✞⛧ She’ll probably stop calling you “hers” for a while, at least until she knows she can trust you again. You’ll feel the sting of her indifference every time you see her with someone else, every time you hear her laugh with someone else.

✞⛧ But you know what’s worse than her coldness? The rare moments when she lets her guard down. When she finally speaks to you, when her voice cracks with the emotion she’s been holding back. That’s when you realize just how deeply she was hurt. That’s when the guilt eats you alive.

✞⛧ If you think Sevika won’t find a way to punish you, you’re dead wrong. She might not do anything overt, but she’ll make sure you feel the consequences. A cold shoulder. A brush off. A reminder that she’s a force to be reckoned with—and you’re not the only one who can be ruthless.

✞⛧ Sevika won’t apologize for anything, but her actions will eventually speak louder than words. If she’s willing to take you back, she’ll show you in the way she holds you when she thinks you’re asleep, in the way she keeps her arm around you when no one else is around. But even then, there’ll always be a part of her that’s guarded, that’s holding back. Because you’ve proven that even the strongest walls can come down. And she can never forget that.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

✞⛧Abby ✞⛧

✞⛧ Abby finds out in the worst way possible. You think you’ve been subtle, but she’s been watching, quietly observing every small change in your behavior. She notices the way your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes anymore, the way you avoid her touch, the way you get quiet after your phone buzzes. She knows. She always knows.

✞⛧ When she confronts you, she’s calm. Too calm. It makes your stomach drop because you know that when Abby is this still, this composed, it means she’s broken. Her voice doesn’t shake, but you can see the hurt in her eyes, even if she tries to hide it behind that stoic, cold façade.

✞⛧ Abby won’t scream. She won’t yell. She just… stops. She’s quiet for a long time, and that silence feels like it stretches on forever. It eats away at you, because the worst part is that she’s not angry—she’s disappointed. She’ll never yell. She won’t even beg you to explain. She’ll just leave. And that will hurt more than anything.

✞⛧ When she walks away, it feels like everything in her life just crumbled. All the walls she built to protect herself, everything she sacrificed, was because she trusted you. And now it feels like all of it is gone.

✞⛧ You’ll try to apologize, to explain that it was a mistake, but Abby’s not stupid. She’ll cut you off before you can even finish, her eyes sharp like knives, “Don’t you dare. I’m not stupid. Don’t make me regret ever giving you that trust.”

✞⛧ She won’t leave immediately, but she’ll pull away, emotionally, physically. Her touch? Gone. Her warmth? Gone. You’ll feel cold, like you’re just a ghost in her life now.

✞⛧ Every attempt to make things right will feel like it’s hitting a brick wall. You’ll buy her gifts, write her notes, try to touch her hand… but nothing works. She doesn’t want your apologies, she doesn’t want your gifts. She wants the trust that you broke—and now it’s gone forever.

✞⛧ You’ll regret it. Oh, you’ll regret it so hard. Because Abby Anderson isn’t the type to let go of people easily. When she loves, she loves deeply. And when she cuts someone out of her life, it’s like she never even knew them.

✞⛧ You’ll sit there, remembering the way her fingers would curl around yours, how she’d soften when she kissed you, the warmth of her body wrapped around yours at night. And then it hits you: I fucked up. You threw that all away.

✞⛧ And the worst part? When she’s gone, Abby won’t look back. She’ll keep moving forward. She’ll survive, like she always does, but it will kill her inside. Because she thought you were worth fighting for. And now, she’s fighting against herself. She’s fighting to forget you.

✞⛧ Maybe you’ll see her again, maybe you won’t. But every time you do, you’ll see the coldness in her eyes that wasn’t there before. You’ll see the wall between you, a divide she built to protect herself. She’ll never forgive you, not fully, and the pain of that will linger with you for as long as you live.

✞⛧ Abby doesn’t forgive easily, especially when it comes to betrayal. And now you’ll never be able to take back the damage you caused.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

✞⛧ Ellie ✞⛧

✞⛧ Ellie would feel a pit in her stomach, like someone just ripped her heart out and stomped on it. She doesn’t know if she wants to scream or cry, so she does both in her head while trying to stay calm on the outside.

✞⛧ She wouldn’t confront you right away. No, she’d need time to process. Maybe a couple days of silence where she avoids your gaze, her mind racing, but too hurt to speak up.

✞⛧ When she finally confronts you, it’s not with anger. It’s with quiet, devastated hurt. Her voice shakes, her hands trembling, and she’s trying to hold back tears. “Why? Was I not enough for you? What did I do wrong?”

✞⛧ She’s the type to think she’s messed up somehow. That she’s broken. Maybe you left because of something she couldn’t give you, maybe it’s her past catching up to her—her survivor’s guilt, her trauma.

✞⛧ The guilt would consume her. Even if you were the one in the wrong, Ellie would still find a way to blame herself. She’d second-guess everything she did for you. “Did I push you away? Was I too much?”

✞⛧ Her jealousy would become unbearable. Every time you talked to someone else, a dull ache would sting in her chest, knowing what happened. She’d try to act like she’s fine, but the weight of the betrayal would linger in her eyes.

✞⛧ If you tried to explain yourself, Ellie would shut down. She doesn’t want excuses. It’s too late for words now. She wants to forget everything and pretend like it never happened.

✞⛧ She’d probably push you away at first. Not because she doesn’t care, but because it hurts too much to love you knowing what you’ve done. She’d rather you hate her than face the possibility of being with you and feeling that same sting every time you touch her.

✞⛧ But deep down, she’d want you to fight for her. Not with words, but with actions. Show her that you’re sorry. Show her that you really want her. But she won’t admit it. Instead, she’ll act cold, distant, and self-destructive.

✞⛧ Ellie would start locking herself away even more. Her guitar would be the only thing that comforts her, strumming out painful, broken chords, her soul pouring into each note.

✞⛧ Every time she sees you, there’s this flicker of hope in her that maybe, just maybe, you’ll regret it, but it fades every time you look at her like she’s just a thing to you.

✞⛧ If you genuinely want to make amends, it would take a long time. Ellie’s not one to easily forgive, not when the wound is this deep. She’d need space to heal, but even then, she’d always wonder if you’d hurt her again.

✞⛧ She’d become distant, but in her quiet, fragile way, she’d want to be loved again—just not in the same way, because she can never go back to the naive hopefulness she had before. That part of her is gone.

✞⛧ The scars would remain. She could never forget, not fully. But she might forgive, in time—if only because, deep down, she still loves you. Even if it scares her. Even if it hurts too much.

✞⛧ But don’t be mistaken. She’s no fool. If you do it again, she’ll walk away. And she won’t look back.

[electricneonvalkyrie]

I think it's worth noting that when we sleep facing someone, it often indicates emotional closeness and trust.

I'm not sure if it was intentional to have Manny next to Abby here, but it makes sense when you consider their overall connection.

Abby's decision to stay in the library while Manny has a guest over is intriguing to me.

It feels like such a layered choice.

Abby is highly regarded within the WLF. Interactions in The Stadium and FOB demonstrate this. Although she values deep connections over superficial ones, and maintains a close-knit inner circle, Abby is clearly loved by many.

If she needed a comfortable couch to crash on, or a more secure and private place to stay than the library, she'd absolutely have that option.

Here's why I think she picked the library:

🌙She’s suffering from continual, intense nightmares that border on night terrors.

From personal experience, I believe Abby is likely feeling shame and embarrassment about this. Early in the game, while in the Jackson lodge, Abby asks Owen if she’d been sleep talking. It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but it clearly bothers her.

My suspicion is that she's only comfortable sleeping alone, or near Manny, her trusted friend and roommate, and avoids the proximity of anyone else while she navigates this crippling experience.

🌙It might be emotionally overwhelming for Abby to ask to stay with someone, even a close friend. Despite their willingness to help and spend time with her, she probably doesn't want to be a burden. She likely wants to avoid awkwardness and imposition, and the library offers a safe emotional distance from others.

🌙Abby's exhaustion is palpable; the effort of social interactions probably feels monumental as she struggles to balance her responsibilities with her deteriorating mental health.

🌙For Abby, solitude is a sanctuary, a place where she can escape the noise and replenish her frazzled mental and physical state.

The quiet allows her to recharge. Her agonizing, slow rise from the makeshift bed in the library, accompanied by her pained groans, shows just how far she is pushing herself. How far Isaac is pushing her. It's heartbreaking to see her taken advantage of by her leader, a situation perpetuated by her attempts to escape her own thoughts.

🌙The library might represent a sense of normalcy amidst the violence and chaos.

The books and literature surrounding Abby likely offer significant sensory comfort, perhaps even evoking positive memories of her father and the stability he provided amidst her turbulent childhood.

Because truthfully, being a Firefly was no walk in the park either. I'd be pretty engrossed in any stories written about their time in The Fireflies, as I'm sure there's trauma attached there as well.

🌙I wonder if to some degree, isolating herself from others acts as a self-imposed penance, keeping herself at arm’s length from her friends.

The crushing weight of her Jackson decisions, the relentless, gnawing pursuit of revenge, and her suffocating isolation all point to a subconscious battle, perhaps a silent, self-inflicted form of punishment in a sense.

Which makes me super sad for Abby, because as someone who also lives with PTSD and nightmares/night terrors, I fundamentally understand how painful this can be at times.

I think her friendship with Manny is unique and their dynamic is incredibly well written. When she loses him, it's devastating... although as players, we don't necessarily get to see the depth of it.

I wouldn't be surprised if Abby and Lev spent many nights by the campfire rehashing old memories as she moves through her grief.

[rhyrhy]

Fields of you 🍎

Chapter one: Under the hood

Farmhand/cowgirl Abby! X female reader!

Next chapter

The sunlight poured through your sheer cream-colored curtains, casting a heavy golden glow over your eyelids. The familiar smell of coffee poured into your room. That meant Nana was up. I better get up before she thinks I’m sleeping the day away, you thought. knowing how your grandmother doesn’t believe in staying in bed all day.

Nana and Papaw had been taking care of you since the days of pigtails and hiding under their wooden dining table.

You could still picture the same rocking chair on the porch where Nana would sit you down, tugging your hair into too-tight ponytails with those clunky, colorful beads at the ends. “Keep them hands out your head,” she’d warn, swatting your then small hands away.

She wasn’t being mean she just wanted it to be out of your face so you wouldn’t bump into anymore walls or track mud on the floors. They loved you. even if they were hard sometimes, that’s grandparents for you. Loving ones, anyway.

As you grew into a young woman your papaw would always pull the hem of your clothes down or ask you to put jackets on as he didn’t want men on the farm ‘getting ideas’. little did he know you weren’t the slightest bit interested in the males who came and gone on the land.

Especially after seeing her. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

You sat up, rubbed your eyes, and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. After throwing on your usual work boots, you headed out, careful to avoid stepping in Clover’s excrement one too many times in your nice shoes. The house dog, who shadowed nana.

making your way down the carpeted stairs to see the familiar sight of papaw in his usual seat on the end of couch, newspaper in hand circling deals from the supermarket. And nana in the kitchen making breakfast, which you always helped with.

Not feeling particularly hungry, you settled for some fruit and buttered toast. Nana raised an eyebrow at your choice but didn’t press though. However, she couldn’t resist saying, “Your stomach’s gonna be talkin’ to ya soon.” Which is just her way of saying ‘please eat later’.

You promised you would and headed out for the day.

The sun was beaming down on the grass, the air was warm complimented by the crisp breeze of the small gust of wind. pushing small pieces of hair off your lipgloss that stuck occasionally.

Meanwhile, Papaw put on his beanie to keep his head warm, no matter the weather. Along with the swish of his pants that your nana hated but it was his favorite pair. so, jokes about the noise sufficed instead of her throwing them out.

“Oh good lord” papaw groaned, as the engine of his truck struggled to keep—again. That thing was a bucket of bolts, but he wouldn’t scrap it. He loved it yet was always surprised when it broke down on occasion. through he always got it magically working again with some handyman who lived down the road apparently. They felt like a myth as you never got a chance to meet em’. “They could fix just about anything with their hands”. You just always gave papaw a pat on the shoulder when he would happily exclaimed that it was up and running again so he could continue his day.

“I’ll call Anderson,” Nana called from the doorway, shaking her head. She wished he’d just use one of the newer vehicles.

Yeah, Anderson. That was the name Papaw always dropped when talking about the helping hand. Yet, You didn’t have time to dwell on it. Nana snapped you out of your thoughts with a teasing smile. “You’re quiet today, sugar.”

“Just thinking,” you replied.

“Well, stop all that thinkin’. Barn won’t clean itself, ya know.”

She joked and nodded towards the side door.

Welp, time to get muddy and that gross yet comforting smell that lingered as made your way to the showers. By the time you were done, your arms ached, and that earthy smell crept in.

You didn’t mind the extra elbow grease you had to put in helping on the land you used to run a muck in.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Sighing deeply, and cleaning your hands off with a rag. You made your way back to the house, to see if nana needed you to do anything else before you flopped down on your bed and spent a few hours reading.

The sounds of humming and metal clinking traveling into your earshot as you crunched down the gravel path. you were always greatful for it, as your sense of direction wasn’t the best, really. how embarrassing would it be to get lost on the land you grew up on. As you grew closer your sore eyes caught a glimpse of something that made you double take.

A Head ducked under the popped hood. One boot rested on the bumper. The other knee deep into the car, like she’d be swallowed if she leaned in any closer. White skintight top stuck to the figures toned torso. Sweat on their lower back. As your eyes trailed higher, you couldnt help but feel a little fluttered at the slight of their arms flexing with each twist, pull, and tinker. they really knew what they were doing.

The all-mighty handyman Papaw always talked about was a woman?

And woman she was indeed.

You tilted your head and took a step forward to get a better look, you couldn’t help yourself.

The crunch from behind gave her a slight startle the woman bumping her head on the hood. Dropping her tool in her hand to rub the spot. One eye shut from the sting. Your hand flew to your mouth, feeling bad for giving her such a scare. Yeah, you probably should have announced yourself.

“Damn it” she mumbled.

A pause breezes by as she steps out from under the hood of the vehicle. Still rubbing her head with a wince.

“Well, that’s one way to start the day.”

“Oh my, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—Are you okay?”

She raises an eyebrow, curiously looking you over with small smile tugging at her lips.

“Just a bump, nothing major”She laughs, wiping grease off her hands. “If your grandfather sent you over, I’m just about finished.”

You nodded, and proceeded to make small talk and double checking that she was alright with the small bump of her head. Her voice was soft, in contrast to her appearance.

Halfway through the conversation, you both realized you hadn’t to introduce yourself properly and that’s when you finally knew her name.

Abigail ‘Abby’ Anderson.

A name that definitely suited her. now, you only hoped papaws truck broke down more often because…

she was a sight you wouldn’t mind seeing more often.

This is based off of how I grew up a little so writing this feels so cozy! (The hair beads, and smaller details)

Ty for reading the first chapter! 💐

[abbysgirl]

what are songs that remind you of abby or you think abby would listen to?

[cheyisagirlkisser]

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Warning: NSFW content below THESE DO NOT BELONG TO ME! Creds to the amazing writers go reblog their work!!

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