The Escape.

you ever just crave backshots from abby fucking anderson

abby is actually the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen, her nose is so pretty and her eyes are perfect, she’s my queen 😭

"How can you like Abby after-"

After???? After what??? How can I like her?!?Like ain't even the right word.

I'd commit the most heinous crimes that they'd have to write a new chapter in the bible for my gay ass specifically just to have my pussy on her face and vice versa before cooking her a warm soup and running her a bath, don't get me fucking started lil guy. If there's one video game character I don't play around for and would defend with every fibre of my body, it's her.

That's my woman right there.

When I’m insecure about my nose I remember that Abby Anderson has a nose like mine 😓🫶

NOSE TWINSSSS

omg smut with wife!abby or new mom!abby as a new part to your pregnant partner au pleaseee

your writing is gorg 💍💍

abby x reader smut | modern au

pussydrunk!abby | wife!abby | mom!abby | mdni pls

It was late. Quiet.

The baby had finally gone down after a long, fussy stretch for the first time in what felt like days. It was one of those nights where every creak of the floor threatened to undo hours of careful rocking. The apartment was still, bathed in the soft amber of a hallway nightlight, baby monitor low and steady, nothing but the soft hush of late-night calm as I had finished washing my face and stepped quietly into our room.

Abby was already in bed, lying on her side, one arm curled under her pillow, hair still damp from the quickest shower of her life. She looked up when I entered - and something in her eyes softened. Like the tension in her shoulders eased just from seeing me.

I stood in the doorway, backlit by the warm glow of the bathroom light. My dark hair was brushed out, wavy and still a little damp, wearing a sheer robe, barely tied. Beneath it, a bralette and matching lace underwear, delicate and pretty and nothing like the loose layers I'd been living in. My midriff peeked through the soft fabric, skin warm from the shower, still marked by everything I’d been through - but glowing. I looked at Abby like I was waiting for her to say something.

Abby opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"She’s asleep." I mumbled, stepping forward, one hand lightly holding the edge of the robe.

"For now," Abby murmured. But her voice was quiet. Almost wistful. She let out a breath. "You're-" She stood up, slowly, like approaching something sacred. "Jesus, babe..."

"I thought maybe..." I hesitated, suddenly unsure. "We could just... be close. If you want."

"If?" Abby crossed the room in three steps and cupped my face in her hands. "I've wanted you every day since the minute she was born. But you've been healing. And I didn't want to-"

"I'm ready," I whispered. My eyes were soft, shimmering with nervous anticipation. "I missed you."

Abby leaned in for a kiss— carefully at first. Not hesitant, just gentle. Like she was afraid I might break if she held on too tight. But I leaned into her, hands sliding under Abby's tank top, palm flat against the firm warmth of her stomach.

Abby let out a sound she didn't realize she was holding back. A low, helpless noise, born from days and weeks of touching each other only in passing— quick grazes, a shared blanket, a forehead kiss before one of us stumbled off to soothe a cry.

Now, she had me here. All of me. And she didn't want to rush a second of it. Her hands found my waist, her thumbs brushing over the soft swell of my hips, the gentle curve of my stomach, the place our daughter had grown. And for a moment, Abby just held me there, forehead to forehead, breathing.

"You're so beautiful," Abby said, voice thick. "I don't even know how to tell you how much I-"

I kissed her again, deeper this time, and Abby felt herself fall. Her hands slipped under the robe, tracing my back, adoringly slow.

Abby's eyes stayed locked on mine as I guided her to the bed. The sheer robe sliding off my shoulders and onto the floor like mist, leaving nothing but soft lace and warm skin in its place.

I sat back against the pillows, legs folded beneath me, the bralette clinging lightly to the curve of my breasts, lace framing the swell of my hips— and Abby just stared. Not in a hungry way. In an admiring, aching one. Because I had always been beautiful to her, but now, there was something even more profound. Something that made Abby want to fall to her knees.

She climbed onto the bed slowly, like she was afraid of breaking the moment. She slid her hands beneath the bralette and slowly lifted it over my head, revealing my soft, full chest which had changed slightly since the baby, tender in ways it hadn't been before. Abby's breath hitched. Every inch of skin revealed was like a rediscovery, familiar and new all at once.

My body had been a machine these last few months: lifting, feeding, rocking, enduring. I’d stopped seeing myself as someone touchable. But in Abby’s hands, I felt wanted. Not just needed.

Her fingers brushed over the curves with impossible gentleness, as if she were afraid to touch too hard. "You're... fuck, you're gorgeous," she whispered. She bent to kiss the inside of one breast, then the other, her lips trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses. "I've missed touching you."

My head tipped back as my breath shivered out. "Then touch me."

Abby didn't need to be told twice. She took her time, smoothing her palms down my sides, feeling the new softness of my stomach, the slight give beneath her fingertips. Her lips brushed every new mark, every changed place, not out of pity or reassurance, but awe. Because my body had done something extraordinary. And it was still completely hers. "This... this is where she grew," she said quietly, kissing just above my navel. "You did something incredible. And you're still the most beautiful thing l've ever seen."

I let out a soft sound— quiet, breaking, like it cracked something open in me. My thighs shifted, opening slightly, and Abby moved down, easing my underwear off inch by inch. She didn't rush, didn't dive in like she was desperate. Instead, she kissed her way down my thighs, her hands cradling them like they were something sacred.

When she finally pressed her mouth between them, I gasped. Not from surprise, but from how slow Abby was, how intentional. Every flick of her tongue, every pause to breathe against me, was wrapped in devotion. She wanted me to feel worshipped. To feel loved in the most tangible way possible. And I did — my body arched toward her, breath coming in soft, desperate gasps as Abby worked me open with nothing but her mouth and hands, murmuring things between kisses: "You're perfect." "I missed the way you taste." "I love how soft you are."

"You feel so good," I whispered, nails curling gently at Abby's back.

"I want you to remember this," Abby murmured, her voice unsteady. "That you're still you. You're still mine. You're everything."

When I came, I did so with a whimper and Abby's name on my lips, hips trembling, thighs tightening around her shoulders like I didn't want to let her go. Abby held me through it, slowing only once I had sagged back into the pillows, eyes half-lidded, lips parted in stunned silence. She crawled up beside me, pulling me into her arms, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. "You're everything to me," she whispered. "I've never been more in love with you," she whispered. "Not even close."

I reached down, threading our fingers together over my heart. "I didn't think I could love you more. But then I watched you become her mom. And now it feels like there's not enough space in my chest."

Abby didn't answer at first. She just held on tighter. Then she whispered, "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Both of you."

We kissed again, deeper this time — the kind of kiss that said, I'm still here. I'm still yours. My hand slipped under Abby's shirt, feeling the taut muscle of her back flex beneath my fingers. I didn't say anything, but Abby could feel my intent in the way I shifted — the way my thigh slid between hers, the way my hand curled behind her neck and pulled her closer. When Abby guided my hand between her own legs, I touched her like she was made of glass, and I finally understood exactly how much Abby had needed me.

Abby let her shirt be tugged up and over her head, not bothering to hide the sharp little intake of breath that escaped her when my hands touched bare skin. It wasn't rushed - it was slow, deliberate. My fingertips mapped the lines of Abby's body like they were familiar and brand new all at once: over the swell of her shoulder, down the valley between her breasts, across her stomach where muscle tensed under touch.

"You've been doing all the heavy lifting," I whispered, my voice low and intimate. "Let me take care of you."

Abby swallowed, not trusting herself to speak, just nodded and let herself sink into the feeling of being seen.

I kissed her collarbone first— then the spot just under her jaw, then the hollow of her throat. My mouth was warm, slow, loving. I shifted us gently so Abby was flat on her back, thighs spread slightly with me nestled between them, pressing soft kisses along her sternum, her ribs, the inside of her arms. My hands framed Abby's waist like they belonged there.

And when I finally slid my hand down between Abby's thighs, it was with exquisite care. "You're already soaked," I whispered, my breath brushing Abby's ear.

Abby's eyes fluttered shut. "Been like that since you walked in."

I let out a breath of laughter, but my touch was anything but teasing. I took my time, fingers stroking gently, parting her with practiced ease. Abby's breath hitched. Her hips arched slightly, but she didn't push, she let me lead.

I curled my fingers just right, slow and sure, and Abby let her head fall back with a low moan.

"Right there?" I asked, mouth brushing her cheek.

“God… yeah. Just don’t stop.”

I didn't. I kissed Abby's shoulder while my fingers kept working, each stroke slow and purposeful, the rhythm steady. My free hand laced with Abby's and pinned it gently beside her head, our rings brushing against each other.

When Abby came, she did so with a quiet, broken sound, her muscles tightening, breath catching in her throat, body shuddering under the weight of it. I didn't let go until the tremors had passed. Then I kissed her softly, until her breathing slowed and her body relaxed completely into mine.

We lay there for a while, warm and quiet, legs tangled together under the sheets, the weight of the night still wrapped around us like a second skin. Abby's hand idly stroked my side, fingertips tracing every curve and dip, memorizing me again.

Abby's fingers found the softest stretch of skin on my waist and traced over it slowly, admiringly.

I shifted slightly, stretching with a soft hum against Abby's chest. "You're staring."

"I am," Abby said, no shame in her voice. "Can't help it."

I turned her face upward, a teasing smile curving my lips. "You already had me once tonight."

Abby looked down at me, eyes dark but warm. "Once isn't enough."

I opened my mouth to respond — but the words got caught in my throat when Abby leaned down and kissed me slowly. There was no urgency in it now, just something molten and patient, like she had all the time in the world and wanted to spend every second on me. When Abby rolled us gently, guiding me onto her back again, there was something admiring in the way she looked at me - like I was something sacred.

I smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Greedy."

"You love it."

"I do."

She kissed her way down my chest, lips brushing softly over each breast, taking her time with the curves, the softness. Her hands slid along my thighs, coaxing them apart slowly, and my breath hitched in anticipation.

Abby paused, her mouth hovering just above my center, eyes flicking up. "Okay?"

I nodded, voice gone. "Yes."

Abby took her time. She started slow — just a soft, open-mouthed kiss, then her tongue followed, languid and purposeful, tracing long, deliberate strokes that made my hips twitch. Abby's hands gripped my thighs, keeping me steady but never forceful, grounding me.

I moaned softly, one hand sliding into Abby's hair, my fingers curling there as Abby buried herself deeper, her tongue moving with precision and devotion. She didn't rush— she savored it, changing rhythm only to keep me right at that edge, never letting me fall too quickly.

"You taste so good," Abby murmured between strokes, her voice low and rough. "I could stay here all night."

I whined, not from the words, but from the way Abby said them, like she meant it with her whole soul. I writhed under her, my thighs beginning to tremble from how slowly the tension built.

Abby flattened her tongue and pressed in deeper, drawing out a sound from me that was almost a cry. Her lips sealed over my clit again, sucking gently before teasing again with the soft tip of her tongue. I arched, body tense and wanting. "I can't," I whispered. "Abby-please-"

"Shh," Abby said, her voice gentle, almost amused. "I've got you."

She kept going until I was coming again, my body quaking under Abby's mouth, back arched, fingers pulling tightly in her hair as I came with a sound that felt pulled from somewhere deep.

I was still catching my breath, eyes half-lidded, chest rising and falling in slow waves — but Abby wasn't done. She hovered above me, eyes dark with something deeper now - not urgency, not just desire, but need. The kind that came from somewhere rooted. She leaned in again and kissed my inner thigh, then lower, just once - soft, adoring. She looked up through her lashes, gaze soft and still heavy with want. My chest was rising and falling in slow waves, the flushed skin along my sternum dotted with faint kisses Abby had left behind. Her hair was messy, lips swollen, eyes glassy.

My breath hitched. "Abby-"

"I know," Abby whispered, already easing her fingers gently along my slick skin again. "I know. Just one more. Let me."

My hand found her shoulder — I could've said no, could've tugged her back up — but I didn't. I let her. My legs parted instinctively, my body answering before my words could.

Abby dipped down again and this time, there was a different rhythm. Not rushed, still gentle, but hungry. Her tongue moved with more pressure now, sliding through the wet heat and circling my clit in slow, perfect strokes. She didn't tease— she worshipped. Devoted.

My body responded immediately, thighs already trembling again. I tried to stay quiet— I always tried, but Abby knew me. Knew exactly how to coax the sounds out of me. The way she sealed her mouth and sucked gently, the firm, deep rhythm of her tongue, the heat of her breath against already sensitive skin - it was too much.

"Abby-fuck, I-" my voice broke as my hips jerked, overstimulated but still craving more.

She didn't stop. She pressed her palms to my thighs, holding me open, steadying me as her mouth kept moving. Her eyes flicked up briefly and she saw my head thrown back, hair damp against the pillow, lips parted in disbelief. And it broke something open in her. She let out a low groan into, the sound vibrating through my core. "You're so fucking perfect."

And then I was gone, falling apart beneath her for the third time, legs shaking violently as another orgasm tore through me, more intense than the last. I cried out, high and broken, hands fisting in the sheets, the sound half lost in a gasp that bordered on a sob.

Abby didn’t stop right away, only pulling back when my body jerked with every touch, breath coming in shallow pants, eyes brimming with tears from the sheer overwhelm of it. She crawled up slowly, carefully, and kissed my shoulder, my neck, my cheek — lips soft, hand gentle against my flushed skin, easing me back down with tender kisses.

"You're okay," she whispered, brushing damp hair back from my face. "You're okay. I've got you."

I let out a breath that turned into a laugh - small, dazed, a little shaky. "I think you killed me."

Abby smiled, brushing her thumb across my cheek. "You're still breathing. Barely."

I curled into her, body limp and spent, my limbs draped over Abby like I didn't want to let go.

Abby pressed a kiss to my temple. "You didn't see yourself. You looked... gone."

My lips curved sleepily. "| was. You ruined me."

Abby's smile deepened, her voice softening. "Good. That's the goal."

We stayed wrapped up in each other, skin on skin, every breath synced as our pulses slowed again. And even in the silence, Abby couldn't stop touching— tracing the lines of my hips, the softness of my stomach, the stretch marks I barely noticed but Abby loved.

"You're beautiful," she whispered again, her voice rough with emotion.

I turned my head and nuzzled into her shoulder. "You really think so?"

"I know so." Abby cupped my jaw, guiding my eyes back up. "You carried our daughter. You're stronger than l've ever been. And l've never loved you more than I do now."

A quiet smile ghosted across my lips. "I love you too. Even when you hog the blankets."

Abby snorted. "It was one time-"

"It's every night," I laughed, kissing her again, a little smug now.

Abby rolled us gently, just enough to wrap me fully in her arms. "Whatever."

I tucked my face into Abby's neck, content as she listened to me breathe, letting myself feel all of it. The love, the exhaustion, the return to my own skin. The way Abby never let me forget who I was. And for the first time in weeks, we didn't listen for the baby.

thank you my love!! sorry this took me a minute to get back to, it’s finals week but i swear a proper part 3 is coming, here’s a little smutty little part 2.5 if you will ᡣ𐭩

more smut here and previous chapter of this fic here

this isn’t entirely proofread because i’m half awake so forgive any errors, i’ll come back and edit later if needed

Real world jobs I think Abby could have:

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- Trauma Medicine / Paramedic. Fast-paced, high-stakes, and very hands-on. She's calm under pressure, physically strong, and already has knowledge and training. The intense, high stakes nature of emergency response would match her protective nature and ability to stay composed. Quiet competence, hands steady even when the world is shaking. She’s the friend who instinctively moves into action when someone gets hurt. She'd be incredible in a crisis: calm, efficient, and laser focused. But she might burn out if she never gave herself time to rest.

- Kinesiology / Physical Therapy / Athletic Trainer. She's strong, knows her anatomy, and likely has experience with sports related injuries. It also taps into her caretaking side, helping others rebuild strength and mobility is deeply rewarding for someone who thrives on quiet service. She works out five days a week, knows the body well, and takes pride in that. I can see her offering quiet encouragement and firm guidance. She'd be the kind of trainer who doesn't yell- just gives a firm nod and says "you've got this" in that quiet, grounding way of hers, and people would believe her.

- Firefighter (this one’s my favorite, clearly). It's physical, high stakes, community-focused, and demands a kind of calm in chaos resilience that Abby naturally embodies. She'd thrive in the structure and physical intensity of the job, while quietly being someone her entire unit relies on. She's a protector by nature. Abby doesn't just want to fix problems- she wants to prevent harm. She'd be the one charging into danger without hesitation, not for glory, but because she couldn't live with herself if she didn't. She's built for physical endurance. The training, the heavy gear, the demands- she'd meet them all head on. And her strength would be a source of pride, but also usefulness. She's not muscular for vanity; she wants to be capable. Even though she's quiet, she builds strong bonds with people over time. In a firehouse, she'd earn everyone's respect through consistency and loyalty, and be the one everyone counts on. She needs structure with meaning, a job with routine, clear goals, and tangible impact would give her direction and purpose. Abby probably lives with a constant hum of anxiety under the surface, fear of loss, fear of failure. Firefighting gives her an outlet: a place where fear fuels action, not avoidance. And the image of her coming home exhausted, soot-smudged, muscles aching, and still taking the time to help you wash the dishes or read with you on the couch? Swoon

- Bonus: Veterinary Medicine. She loves animals, has medical training, and is incredibly nurturing under that tough exterior. Helping creatures who can't speak for themselves could feel purposeful for her. She could also be an animal rehabilitation specialist, or even work in wildlife rescue.

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Abby feels like someone who wouldn't just be capable physically but would also have a deep sense of purpose under the surface. What do you guys think?

my sweet abigail, these crazies on tumblr don’t understand you. normalize the soft, gentle abby that we all know and love, not the degrading abuser you guys love to write her as for some reason

If you think Abby Anderson would hurt her partner just because she can deadlift a bear, you haven’t been paying attention.

This powerhouse of a woman would drag a wounded stranger through a burning village and then apologize for getting ash on their clothes.

Listen.

Abby sees you flinch when a door slams, and her heart breaks in six different directions.

She doesn’t push for details right away and she waits. She gives you space to process. When you’re ready to talk, she listens like there’s nothing more important to her in the universe. To her, there isn't.

Abby is not the type to throw mantras at you without thinking. She doesn’t try to convince you that you’re safe with her, or that you’re safe now.

She shows you. Over and over again.

She gently untangles your trauma narratives and walks beside you as you unlearn the voice in your head that whispers it was your fault. She reminds you that love is not supposed to hurt like that, and surviving isn’t weakness. You’re strong as hell, and Abby helps you feel it.

And goddamn, if you freeze in public, this girl shifts into protective mode instantly. She’s got one arm around your shoulder before you even realize you need grounding. She knows what you need because she’s been in your shoes and it’s her priority to pay attention.

One of my personal favourites? She’s brilliant at building routines that work with your sensory needs. Bad day? No problemo. Abby has the lights low, all the cozy textures within reach. She’s your stability when everything shakes beneath your feet.

She isn’t a miracle worker, obviously. She is healing, too. She makes mistakes. They're never the kind of mistakes that force you to question her integrity and trustworthiness, though.

The first time you spiral, she asks what helps you. Hell, she may need to do this a few times over. The difference is, she memorizes your answers. This badass soldier gives a shit. She isn’t perfect, but she doesn’t leave you to suffer alone, ever. She reminds you that you’re not a burden and that your meltdowns aren’t brokenness.

With her actions. Because she shows up in a real way and not some regurgitated thing she saw go viral.

When you casually apologize for being too much, she looks at you like you’ve just insulted Mother Earth.

Okay and yeah, so she encourages you to hit the weights. It’s one of her personal coping mechanisms, and she’s fallen in love with it alongside the trauma that pushed her to pick up that first dumbbell. She wants you to know what it feels like to have quick access to taking your power back. But she doesn’t just slap you on the ass and tell you to hit the gym like some common douchebag. She wants to spend time with you and share her passions.

She lifts with you. She stretches with you. This girl wants to learn trauma informed exercise goals that aren’t about punishing your body because she has sure as shit punished hers. Abby wants better for you.

Maybe through this, she finds ways to be gentler with herself.

And my girl is a praise queen.

Enough said.

You did good. I’m so fucking proud of you.

In a modern setting, Abby definitely helps you set up your own bank account and encourages you to track your finances in a way that gives you full control over your safety and your future. She wants you to succeed, with or without her.

People assume far too much based on Abby’s build. I’ve seen her written like a man (at one point, most, if not all fics permanently fixed her to a strap-on, without ever acknowledging her actual body), fetishized as a monster, and stripped of her softness entirely.

Strength and tenderness coexist.

Writers who recognize this, understand the weight of characterization and how misrepresentation can be harmful.

I appreciate those of you who respect it and pour your heart into your art. It really shows, no matter how many kudos or whatever.

Keep going.

Abby would want you to.

he did say that. i wouldn’t have said that if he didn’t. he wanted to work with her so he changed the role so she wouldn’t have to match the physicality. that’s why i said it’s erasure because it is. changing her body changes who she is.

it doesn’t matter that he’s the creator, creators aren’t always right. you don’t have to worship everything they say and do. he’s been off his rocker for a few years now. he’s a zionist and a sellout.

i agree kaitlyn should work out some though. it would be better than nothing. even bella got in the gym and she has muscles when ellie is lean as hell. it makes zero sense to not have kaitlyn do anything when ellie now has more muscle than her.

as a tlou fan, (SOME of) it’s fan base is genuinely insufferable.

i’ve seen men and women complain and complain about bella ramsey and kaitlyn dever, with no actually valid argument.

now look, does bella ramsey look like ellie? no, not really.

does bella ramsey portray ellie with literally no flaws whatsoever? YES.

it’s okay for you to want someone else to be ellie, it’s okay if you don’t like bella as ellie.

but there’s a difference between that, and being just blatantly disrespectful.

i’ve seen people say bella looks like they have down syndrome, that she’s ugly, and overall people just being disgusting and hateful towards them for absolutely no reason.

that is NOT criticism, that doesn’t have anything to do with her performance as ellie or the show.

that is PURELY you being disrespectful.

and there’s no justification or reason for that kind of behavior.

now onto kaitlyn.

is she buff? no. does she look like abby? no, not really.

will she play abby perfectly just like bella as ellie? i have no idea.

but here’s the thing, there’s not a lot of buff, tall, and intimidating women who can act.

especially ones that conveniently look like abby.

did yall really expect them to cast people with PERFECT looks to the character AND the flawless abilities to play said character? do yall know how rare that is?

so the point is, you can dislike bella as ellie, you can dislike kaitlyn as abby (since NO ONE is FORCING YOU to watch the show btw) as long as you remain respectful to the actresses.

and the tlou show is literally one of the only good game adaptations to live action EVER but yall still wanna complain.

and as a final side note, most of the men trying to shame bella ramsey’s appearance are just mad they don’t have another version of ellie to sexualize🤷

i’ll come over with my telescope and nerd out about space and physics #autism

thank you @gardengnosticator ᡣ𐭩

i don’t have any other mooties that i wanna tag but any of you can feel free to add onto this 🫶🏼

sleepover ! pick a jellycat, pj set, blankie and some slippers 💤😴💕

i’ll go first !

big pressure tags (not really)

@slut4megantheestallion @bibi4exe @gardengnosticator @pricesgirl 🫶🏽

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stargazing with abby °*•.

i’m convinced abby has a telescope stashed in her room somewhere that she brings up to the roof of the stadium once in awhile. she’s been intrigued by astronomy ever since she found a book on it in the library. she can point out a bunch of constellations and the bigger stars, and her dad probably taught her how to navigate using them. she doesn’t get to do it all that often, but it takes her mind off things and soothes her when she wakes up in the middle of the night from her nightmares. she’d love to share this activity with someone special and point out all the elements of the night sky for them, babbling away like a huge nerd ᡣ𐭩

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

bonus song because this one always reminds me of her. “your freckles lead the way, i trace your constellations”ᡣ𐭩

soft!abby supremacy! she’s the sweetest girl ever