about me: i'm ray, 28, she/her, pan. this blog is 18+. minors dni. my writing may contain triggering topics so please be sure to check the content warnings at the beginning of each fic before reading.
đ requests are open đ
find the themes/characters/shows/films I'd currently love to see requests for below the cut. list will change with hyperfixations âŁ
‷ ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, INJURY, AND CHRONIC ILLNESS
‷ SHORTS/BLURBS
for when I donât have time to write full fics
‷ RESIDENT EVIL
leon s. kennedy, carlos oliveira
‷ ARCANE
vi, sevika
‷ THE LAST OF US (TV OR GAME)
joel miller, tess servopoulos, abby anderson (game only), tommy miller (show)
‷ THE WALKING DEAD
rick grimes, daryl dixon, glenn rhee
‷ STRANGER THINGS
eddie munson, jim hopper, and steve harrington
‷ THE WITCHER III
geralt, yennefer, ciri
‷ ASSASSIN'S CREED VALHALLA
fem!eivor
‷ MCU
bucky barnes, yelena belova, kate bishop
‷ LOST
sawyer
‷ BUFFY
spike
‷ TED LASSO
roy kent, jamie tartt, dani rojas, and sam obisanya
‷ DOCTOR WHO
nine, ten, eleven, thirteen
things i don't write âŁ
‷ SMUT WITHOUT PLOT
i'm happy to write steamy scenes with plot
‷ INCEST, PEDOPHILIA, RAPE, ETC.
‷ NON-ROMANCE
e.g. where the characters are just related to reader
‷ REAL PEOPLE OR MINORS
I only write fictional characters of 18+. not the celebrities who play them
‷ I CAN WRITE TRIGGERING THEMES
e.g. mental illness, abuse, death etc. but please note i will do my best not to romanticise them
kinda in the mood to write something angsty in relation to the jacket post I made about abby but I would once again be cheating on the dozens of requests I have and also immune fic
imagining the casual intimacy of abby draping her jacket around your shoulders when youâre cold. maybe you disappeared after a fight and she finds you hours later perched on a curb. even though sheâs mad â about the argument and that you took off â she knows saying anything will only lead to more conflict, so she puts the jacket around you and begs you to come home. âlet me get you home and warm, then we can talk it through.â
or maybe you drunk call her one night asking to be picked up, and her first instinct is to bundle you up before she gets you into the car. she just likes to take care of you, and this is her most basic, instinctive way. sheâll wrap an arm around you afterwards, rubbing warmth back into you through the fabric. âyou sure youâre okay?
her heart will flutter when you nestle into it with a lazy smile, inhaling her scent on the collar. she likes to feel needed, and seeing that become so obviously true chases away any doubts she might have.
Abby Anderson x Female!Reader
Summary: Your girlfriend not coming home from patrols quickly turns into a rescue mission when the sun sets, and she still hasnât returned.
Warnings & Tags: A little bit of fluff, a little bit of angst, happy ending! Pre-established relationship, mentions of death, injuries being treated, including stitches, typical Tlou2 violence, probably incorrect setting stuff, but again happy ending!
Word Count: 2.3k
Abby was never late.Â
Not to meetings, not to patrols, not even to dinner. Yet now, as you watched the last golden rays of sunlight begin to dip low beyond the stadium walls, she still had yet to return. Your anxious pacing inside the doors hadn't done anything to help the worry that had taken hold of you. Neither had watching every other squad but hers return safely. It wasnât lost on you the dangers of patrols. Stepping outside of the stadium walls always posed a risk, and right now you were intimately familiar with every single one as they raced through your swirling thoughts. The lower the sun fell, the lower your heart sank.Â
Talking to the patrol coordinator hadnât helped at all either. He radioed as was procedure, but after not hearing anything back, he said there wasnât anything more he could do. Even if the team was missing, they wouldnât be able to send out a rescue group until the morning. Navigating the city in the dark was a beyond dangerous task, even for the best of the soldiers. This was what worried you. Abby was among the best of the soldiers, and without a rescue in sight, she was going to have to try and survive the night, if she was even still alive.Â
The thought of her being gone, it took hold in your chest, agonizing and all-consuming. You did all you could to push it out of your head. Of course sheâs still alive, she has to be. Youâd long since said a world without her isnât a world youâd want to live in. A sunrise without her arms tenderly wrapped around you, holding you firmly to her, trailing delicate kisses along your hair to your cheek and finally your lips as her hand tilts your head up to meet them. A night spent curled into her side, head on her chest, listening to the rhythmic beating of her heart as she read out loud to you, or shared some music, or simply talked until neither of you could stand to keep your eyes open anymore. A patrol without her on your team, her steady voice guiding you along the tough terrain, the overwhelming feeling of safety in the face of danger because you knew she was there and she would never let anything happen to you. The more the ugly reality of her absence forced you to face the possibility of a life without her in it, the more your determination grew to prevent that from happening.Â
When the last of the streaks of light finally disappeared below the horizon line, and darkness settled across the base, the patrol coordinator and remaining soldiers left, with a promise to send out a rescue team in the morning as they had reassured. However, you knew that wasnât good enough, and even more, some part of you knew she couldnât wait that long. So you forced yourself into action. Stepping away from the circle youâd paced into the grass, you retreated into the base to collect the supplies you needed. Only bothering to make a quick stop to leave a note for Manny before going off to gather your pack and prepare.Â
The days were warmer now, but the nights were still cold. You pulled a black sweater out, one Abby had lent to you weeks ago, pulling it on. Your senses were filled with a rush of woodsy cedar, mint, and something distinctly her. A feeling of comfort washed over you, steadying you to your mission. Your handgun holstered to your leg and your rifle slung across your back, you were prepared to leave.Â
Sneaking out of the base wasnât an easy task. Even at night, the area was heavily patrolled and the entrances guarded. However, that wasnât the only way in or out. You and Abby had developed a penchant for urban exploring, using your seldom time off to slip beyond the boundaries of the stadium and into the outskirts of what remained of Seattle. It wasnât long before your silent sneaking footsteps led you to a small gap in the fortifications, just enough for you to pull back the fencing and slip out. You knew technically, without authorization, this could be considered desertion, which is part of the reason you had left a note for Manny in the first place, so he could make an excuse. It also made sure someone was going to come looking for you if you didnât make it back.Â
You were familiar with a majority of the patrol routes at this point, including the one Abby and her partner Jules had set out on all those hours ago, and on the other side now you were free to follow it. The city wasnât lit up outside of the gates, and the darkness that settled around you was eerie. Only silver strips of moonlight lit up the path ahead before you found your flashlight. Beyond its reach, however, was total darkness. You tried to push out of your mind what lurked in that darkness, and how exposed the simple act of lighting your way had made you. The fear for your own well-being had dissolved the moment you realized Abby was in danger, even more so when you decided to go after her.Â
The start of the patrol path was well trodden and not out of place, the street broke off at points, forcing you to divert around and closer to the buildings. Out in the open, there was space to run, but you shuddered at the thought of being cornered inside with a Scar, or worse yet, a shambler. You stayed true to your path as best you could, keeping an ear out for any sound, but you were only met with the heavy silence of the night, broken up by the occasional cricket or critter. Each noise that broke through filled you with a new sense of hope, only to tear it away again when you realized it wasn't her. The further you walked, the more discouraged you became, and the more panicked, what if Abby wasnât here anymore? You couldnât fathom to think of what might have happened if sheâd been taken or forced to hide somewhere unfamiliar.Â
The time that passed felt heavy and carried with it more and more uncertainty, until you saw it: blood splattered across the pavement. Something bad had happened here, it was the first thing you were certain of. You braced yourself as you followed the trails. Amongst the run-down cars and overgrown grass lay a myriad of bodies, twisted and contorted, riddled with injuries. Your hands trembled as you looked closer at each, praying to God or whatever may be listening for the first time that night that you wouldnât find Abby, not here, not like this. Some of the bodies had been taken by the virus, that much was obvious. Another scattered few you recognized immediately as Scars. As you approached the last body, face down and still in the grass, a rush of relief rushed through you as you noted it was far too small to be Abby. Getting closer, however, you realized it was just the right size to be her partner. You hesitate, you hadnât known Jules well, but god, that didnât mean you wanted to see her lying dead here amongst the carnage. Leaning down slowly, your hand inches from her, you decide you have to check. Her family deserved to know. You gently brush the blood-soaked hair back to find Jules looking back at you. Eyes vacant and staring, dead. Standing up, you mark on the map your location so her body can be brought back to her loved ones.Â
A heavy swirl of emotions surged through you at this: relief and the guilt that comes with it, the grief. You lifted your head, trying to imagine where Abby wouldâve gone from here, your heart pounding in your chest so loud it was hard to think. You couldnât start to panic now, but as your mind raced, you couldnât stop it. The thudding pounded louder and louder. Digging your nails into your palms and forcing yourself to breathe, the cold night air filling your lungs felt insufficient, but still you repeated. Repeated until you could hear the sound of your own thoughts again, until your motivation came back to you: Abby wasnât dead. She had gotten out; now she just needed you to find her.Â
You focused your gaze on the ground, looking for any sign of a trail, when you noticed the tall grass leading away from Jules' body was trodden. You headed in the same direction, noting splatters of crimson blood coating the blades of grass, a violent contrast that you prayed didnât come from Abby herself. The trail inevitably led to a small storefront. You pushed the door open quietly, surveying your flashlight around the shop and taking a few cautious steps inside.
The feeling of a broad arm wrapping around you and pulling you hard into their chest was the first thing you felt. The second was the heavy pressure as her bicep snaked its way around your throat, making it nearly impossible to breathe.Â
âWhat the fuck were you doing out there looking at the bodies, huh? Youâve come here to finish the job or just to fucking gloat?â Her voice comes out harsh and strained, but you recognize it immediately.Â
âAbby, itâs me,â You squeak out, the strain on your airway immense. Youâre just barely able to push the words past your lips.Â
She loosens her grip on you immediately and rapidly turns you to look at her. Her eyes scan your face in a mix of pain and relief before pulling you back in and holding you tightly. You wrap your arms around her in return, gripping her shirt, the force holding her to you like a refusal to ever again part.Â
âWhat the hell are you doing here?â She asks, trying to sound stern, but the relief and affection coming through are undisguisable.Â
âYou didnât come back, I had to find you. I wanted to make sure you were okayâ
âIâve been better,â She answers, pulling back from the embrace just enough that you can get a look at her. The motion of it causes her to make a small sound of pain.Â
Gingerly, you trace your fingers across her face. Around her eye is washed in dark shades of blue and purple. Blood has dried under her nose and lips, intermingled with the crimson splatters across her youâre pretty sure didnât come from her. She flinches a little away from the touch before settling, allowing your hands to trail down her heaving chest, and you realize sheâs clutching her side, the blood below her hand undeniable.Â
âWhat happened?â You ask, fingers tracing over hers as you move to pull her hand away, trying to get a better look. You could see the fabric was torn, reaching to pull the zipper of her sweater down, she doesnât object. Underneath, the blood had soaked most of her shirt, gently pulling it up to expose the skin, she winced, but you could finally see the jagged wound.Â
âThe Scars ambushed us, they left spikes on the road and popped the truck tires. They attacked the second we stepped out of the car. Assholes managed to stab me in the side, and the chaos attracted the fucking infected. One of âem got Jules. I tried to get to her, but it was too late, she was bit. I put her out of her misery before she could turn. I wanted to go back, but it was getting dark. Itâs dangerous out here, and it only gets worse at night, you know. So I holed up.â She answered as you evaluated her injury, her breathing laboured and heavy, a quiet pause filling the room for a moment before she continued, âIt wasnât safe for you to come. You couldâve gotten hurtâ.Â
You pulled the small first-aid kit from your pack and began disinfecting her wound to the best of your ability.Â
âI wasnât going to leave you out here. I couldnât live with not knowing. Not even for a minute.â Your answer was firm, fiercely determined.Â
âNot knowing?â She questioned.
âIf you were alive.âÂ
A silence falls between the two of you once more as you focus on stitching her wound. Taking your time in the dim glow of the flashlight, Abby gritted her teeth, inhaling sharply through her nose. You admired her strength, even as you watched her face scrunch up in a mask of pain. When youâre finally done, and sheâs bandaged, you stand, your hand coming to gently cradle Abbyâs face. She leans into it, her own coming up to hold yours while your free hand tenderly dabs the blood off of her face. Finishing, you brush her hair back, now letting your other hand hold her face as well.Â
âYou did the right thing, you know, with Jules.â You peek up at her, her lips are pressed tight, and her eyes linger on the grass through the window.Â
âI know,â she murmurs
âIt doesnât make it any easierâÂ
She grimaces, her eyes glassy as she looks back to meet your gaze. The softness in them, the tenderness, is rimmed with something wild and desperate.
âIâm glad you came. It was dangerous and stupid, and if anything happened to you Iâd kill you myself, but Iâm glad you came,â She says. You laugh, a soft sound that feels out of place where you are.Â
âIâd follow you to the ends of the earth Anderson, you canât get rid of me that easilyâÂ
She smiles fondly, the hand holding yours lifts to cup your cheek as she pulls your face down, her lips crashing against your own. The kiss is hard, passionate, and she hopes it conveys the feelings sheâs afraid sheâll never have the words for, that fill her so completely it could drive her insane. Pulling back to catch your breath, you rest your forehead against hers, a delicate smile coming across your features.Â
âI love you, thank you for coming for me,â She says. Her voice comes out gentle and warm.
âI'll always come after you, no matter how far, I love you too,â You promise.
Abby tries to make it slow for you, she really does. It takes everything in her not to rip right through you the second youâre alone with her but she restrains herself.
Youâve never been treated much âlike a ladyâ in the past, other partners expecting the work in the bedroom to come from you and Abby knew that too. She was desperate to show you how much you were worth to her.
Her restraint trembles. Dragging her lips down your thighs, the thick warm overwhelming smell off you pulling her desire out further than she is able to contain while she hooks her fingers under the elastic of your boxers, pulling them off as controlled as she can handle.
Her tongue reaches you, one slow drag through your centre.
It hits her like a drug.
Her fingers grip tight around your thighs and suddenly she is both drowning in you and needing you like the air she breathes.
A low guttural moan hums through her as your back arches at the sudden increase of pressure and heat.
Every single sound you make, every time you move into her when youâre desperate to chase more and buck away when it grows too much is pure bliss to her.
Itâs almost an hour before she pulls herself out of her daze, blinking half lidded up at you while youâre finally able to catch your breath. Moaning through each shudder of the after-shocks, still trembling under her long after mouth travels up your body. Kissing a path to your lips and holding you till your limbs go limp against her.
Youâre sleeping in her arms while sheâs already thinking about the next time she can lose herself between your thighs.
Bit of a masc reader thingyyy. Idk itâs 5am and Iâm horny.
Perm taglist cause yall wanted to be on these little drabs too hehe: @lobotomymutt @alloftheimagines @thatredheadloserlesbian @lacyfemmes @fleetwonderÂ
some hyper famous artists like Van Gogh transcend overratedness and become underrated because they're so normalized. Like I'll look at a van Gogh and I'm like wait this really is amazing you guys don't get it
needy!bottom!abby who pushes your face impossibly deeper into her pussy, grinding her hips down hard. whining that she needs you even closer than that.
needy!bottom!abby who sneaks in quickies anywhere, even on patrolsâfinding quiet hidden places for you to ruin her. once securely hidden she shyly pulls your hand down to her her belt buckle whimpering a small âpleaseâ & âiâll be so fast.â
needy!bottom!abby that will often lay in your shared bed in positions that expose her glistening pussy, in hopes that youâll be so tempted she wonât have to ask you to give her what she so desperately needs.
needy!bottom!abby who isnât afraid to get handsy in public. hands wrapped around your waist dipping just a bit too low; everyone around thinks itâs her way of asserting her dominance, but you know this is her way of telling you she needs you.
needy!bottom!abby who also gets really clingy, sitting next to you so close your thighs are touching, her arm wrapped around yours. often quickly burying her face in your neck to give quick kisses.
needy!bottom!abby that whenever youâre out for a long time sheâll lean down and whisper âi canât wait to go homeâ in an attempt to be subtle. at her breaking point sheâll give you the cutest pouty face looking at you and then gesturing towards her.
needy!bottom!abby who goes feral when you eat her pussy and finger her at the same time. even though she tries to be quiet out of courtesy for your neighbors she canât help but let out the sluttiest noises. she completely loses her mind and she loves every second of it.
needy!bottom!abby whoâll sometimes edge herself when sheâs alone so sheâll be even more desperate for you.
needy!bottom!abby is completely addicted to your strap, sheâll do anything to feel you inside of her. she loves fucking herself on it in doggy, completely bottoming out
one thing about me is I will never adjust my writing style to avoid people believing itâs AI. I spent my whole adult life learning this skill. I will not go out of my way for even a second to make room for AI. if my writing ever, ever feels like AI, itâs because AI stole from us. learned to mimic us. I was here first, and it will not take a single thing from me. and another thing: I love em dashes. they are mine.
