#tlou 2 remastered
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Nooo don’t arrest her she’s so sexy ahaha
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The Gunslinger
Boxer!Abby Anderson x F!Reader
Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist
Author’s note: From the results of my poll! Next up is Gym Owner!Abby and an Abby x Reader x Ellie roommate threesome!! (｡◕‿◕｡)
Summary: Your friend, Tyler, drags you to your first boxing match one night. You're expecting to not have any fun at all until you lay your eyes on The Gunslinger also known as Abby Anderson. She spots you during the match but you chalk it up to random eye contact she makes with her fans. What happens when she finds you alone after the match?
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, no outbreak au, idk if the boxing rules + the match are accurate I am but a simpleton, soft dom!Abby, dub con (reader has consumed alcohol), semi public sex, oral sex (reader receiving), strap sucking, strap fucking (reader receiving), Abby refers to the strap as her cock, reader is shorter than Abby but than that no physical descriptions used, nipple play, pet names (good girl & pretty girl), slight degradation (whore), no aftercare, no use of y/n
You’re not going to enjoy yourself. No one in their right mind wants to spend their evening sitting shoulder to shoulder in uncomfortable stands, surrounded by drunk assholes screaming their heads off. And yet here you are, sitting shoulder to shoulder in said uncomfortable stands, holding your overpriced beer in one hand and covering your ear with the other. You’re wearing a skirt and the itchy wood is irritating the back of your thighs. This was all a mistake. Why did you agree to this?
Oh right, it’s because your friend Tyler convinced you to come.
“Can you at least act like you’re having a good time? We’re right in the front row,” he says, pulling your hand away from your ear.
“I’ll try but no promises.”
“You’ll change your mind once you see the Gunslinger, trust me.”
“What’s so special about her?” you ask, chugging your beer so you don’t have to hold it any longer.
“One of the best sluggers I’ve ever seen. Seriously, her uppercuts are devastating.”
“Whatever you say,” you respond, rolling your eyes.
“Do you wanna know why they call her the Gunslinger?” he asks. After every response he turns his gaze across the ring, staring at something but you can’t make out what.
“Sure.”
“Because she’s got the fucking cannons, man.”
“Cannons and guns are two different things.”
“You know what I meant. Seriously, the biceps on this woman are insane.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“You’ll be eating your words later.”
He turns his gaze away from you again and this time you see what he’s looking at– a woman sitting in the front row on the opposite side of the ring. She notices him and smiles. You recognize her as the woman he was chatting up when he was in line grabbing your beers.
“You’ve been making eyes at her since we got here.”
“I have not.”
“Yes, you have. And I’d be willing to bet she’s into you, too.”
“...You really think so?”
You open your mouth to respond but Tyler interrupts and so does the crowd, your ears ringing from their boisterous shouts. The announcer steps into the ring, microphone in one hand and the other raised in the air. He’s wearing a black suit and a wide grin, just admiring the way the audience cheers for him, not even one of the boxers.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! And welcome to tonight’s match. Tonight promises to be a classic with the lineup we have for ya.”
“First up we got a rookie in the ring. Fighting out of the blue corner is the Iron Fist, Fiona Finster!”
You turn your head towards the hallway the announcer is pointing at where you see the silhouette of a woman; tall, bulky, a fucking unit. She steps into the ring and sheds her silky white robe, embroidered with The Iron Fist in royal blue lettering. She’s wearing a black sports bra, royal blue shorts, and gloves to match the lettering on her robe. The audience cheers for her but you’re stuck staring at the sheer size of her. If this is a rookie… then what does the Gunslinger look like?
“Next up we have a legend entering the ring. You know her. You love her. Fighting out of the red corner. It’s the Gunslinger, Abby Anderson!”
Entering the ring is a woman who makes the Iron Fist look like a wimp. She’s taller and absurdly muscular, wearing black boxing gloves. Her robe is also black and on the back, in shiny silver letters, it reads The Gunslinger. She takes it off and hands it to who is presumably her coach. Once the robe is gone you can see everything much better and Tyler was right. She really does have the fucking cannons. Her skin is shiny, the bright lights reflecting off her muscles, and her dirty blonde hair is pulled back into a braid. She scans the crowd, mouth curled into a smirk as she watches how the audience cheers for her. She’s confident, well-liked and she knows it. You feel no better than a man the way you’re ogling her, admiring the way the muscles in her back stretch out the fabric of the charcoal gray sports bra she’s wearing. She’s just… impressive in every way and with a body like that the nickname Gunslinger feels earned.
Before she’s finished showing off for the crowd her eyes land on you, meeting your gaze and flashing you a smile. Your cheeks heat up in… embarrassment? No, that’s not right. Flattery? Maybe.
Or it’s probably because you just formed a strong attraction to this woman. And it’s probably the look on your face that gave it away. Your eyes go wide as you stare at her, your mouth falling open in a soft O.
Whatever, the eye contact probably didn’t mean anything. She probably does that with lots of people in the audience; her fans. Unless…
No stop right there. She’s a professional and you’re just a spectator, nothing more. That meant nothing.
The referee enters the ring and goes over the rules with the two women. And once again as she’s listening to the ref she looks past his head and glances at you again. The eye contact is intense, almost too much to bear but you can’t look away. It’s the type of eye contact one would show someone if they’re trying to assert their dominance. As far as you’re concerned, she can dominate you all she wants.
The boxers bump gloves and the first round begins. It’s one of the most enthralling sporting events you’ve ever witnessed. Tyler hands you his beer, too focused on the match to worry about drinking it. But you’re not about to waste the shitty, overpriced beer so you down it, setting the plastic cup on the floor. Despite being an absolute unit, the Gunslinger is quick on her feet, evading most if not all of the Iron Fist’s punches. Every blow the Gunslinger delivers is powerful, making you wince just from observing them. You’re actually enjoying yourself but you don’t know if it’s from the riveting match or if it’s because you’re a little tipsy. Regardless, this is the best turn of events. And the Gunslinger is easy on the eyes.
The match flies by round after round until it’s the final one. You’ve never been to a boxing match before but supposedly the judges don’t announce the score until the match is over.
But that wouldn’t even matter.
Because the Gunslinger delivers a devastating blow to the Iron First– a knockout, right in her jaw. The opponent is off her feet for more than ten seconds. And once the referee finishes his count to ten the match is over. The crowd erupts into overwhelming celebratory cheers.
“And the winner is Abby The Gunslinger Anderson!” the announcer exclaims.
Everyone rises from the stands, hands in the air and cheering loudly. The Gunslinger is presented with a gold belt, throwing it over her shoulder like a sash. She raises her gloved hands in the air, basking in all the applause. She makes eye contact with you again for the third time. This has to mean something, right?
Before she exits the ring, she winks at you, smiling once more. And with that, she’s gone and while you’re left reeling from the intense eyefucking the crowd starts to leave, moving as a large hoard.
“Fuck, Tyler! Go find that girl before she leaves!” you say, elbowing him.��
“Really? You’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll meet you out front. Just go talk to her before she leaves,” you say, urging him to go.
You remain on the bench, waiting for the crowd to dissipate before moving. The night’s events replay in your mind and you’re amazed you had any fun. Though, it’s hard to tell if you had fun because of the boxing or because of subtle flirting from the Gunslinger. Either way, you’d come back for another match.
Eventually, the crowd disperses and you start to leave, heading to the parking lot to meet Tyler. You’re about to push the door open when a hand on your shoulder stops you in your tracks. Expecting it to be Tyler you turn around and ask, “Did you get her number or what?”
“Whose number?”
Except it’s not Tyler. It’s the Gunslinger.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I thought you were my friend.”
“It’s just me.”
You’re stunned, mouth opening to speak but no words coming out.
“Abby,” she continues.
“Right! That was a good match,” you say, struggling to form a coherent sentence.
“Thanks,” she chuckles, “I’ve never seen you here before. This your first one?”
“Yes,” you admit.
“Did you like it?” she asks, raising her arm above her head and leaning against the wall, inching closer to you. She towers over you but you catch a glimpse of what’s behind her— people who are still lingering around, just like you.
She catches you looking past her and looks over her shoulder. She exhales and says, “Don’t worry about them. Focus on this.”
“Right,” you say with a shaky breath, painfully aware of all the eyes on you. She turns her gaze back to you, blue eyes staring into yours. Now she’s closer you notice the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks.
“Or I can take you somewhere that’s more… private?”
You pause for a moment, thinking about Tyler before quickly deciding that he’s still talking to that girl. You didn’t get a text from him either.
“Please,” you say.
She stands up straighter, removing her arm from the wall and grabbing your hand. She leads you away from the exit doors and towards the hallway she entered, walking right past the group of people who noticed you two in the first place. She holds her head high, not caring about the stares as she brings you to her locker room.
She shuts the door behind you and immediately presses you up against the wall. She palms your thigh, hand inching up closer towards the hem of your skirt.
“You didn’t tell me your name,” she says in your ear. You don’t need to see her face to know that she’s wearing a smirk.
You tell her your name with a shaky breath and she repeats it to herself before saying, “Are you gonna be my good girl?”
“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, a shiver running down your spine.
She grabs you by the waist, dragging you to the bench and forcing you to sit down. She kneels on the floor, one hand rubbing your inner thigh and the other pushing you so you’re lying down on the bench. You hear her reach for her bag and out of the corner of your eye you spot her grabbing a pair of trainer’s scissors, like the kind used to remove gauze and tape from wrapped hands. She hikes up your skirt and you feel the cold metal slide across your skin as she cuts off your panties.
“Shit,” you breathe out, feeling her muscular hands pull the fabric off of you.
“Look at you, already dripping for me,” she says, pulling your thighs apart. “Did you get wet watching me fight?”
“Fuck… Yes, I did,” you admit.
“Eyeing me up and down like a whore in my own ring?” she says, getting closer to your pussy. She goes to eat you out, mouth hovering over your clit and warm breath sending a shiver up your core.
“Eyes on me or you don’t get cum. Got it?”
You rest on your elbows, propping yourself up to get a good view of her face buried between your thighs. Her tongue laps at your pussy, swirling around your clit all while her eyes are on you, watching the way your mouth falls open and the way your chest heaves. Her tongue circles your entrance, nose grinding against your clit as her strong arms wrap around your thighs. Fuck, her arms. The veins bulge from her muscles as she keeps a firm grip on you, keeping you flush against her face while she eats you out. The pleasure builds and for a split second close your eyes. But that just won’t do.
She stops, pulling her face back slightly and saying, “What did I say, pretty girl? Eyes on me.”
You open your eyes again, meeting her stern gaze before she goes back to licking your cunt. She squeezes your thighs tighter as she flicks her tongue around your clit before sucking it. A loud moan escapes your lips as she brings you to the edge of orgasm. You cum hard against her face, pussy clenching around nothing and thighs shaking under her grasp. She laps up every last drop of your release before letting you go, rising from the floor and reaching for her bag again.
“Strip for me,” she commands while searching for something.
You pull yourself off the bench, legs shaking underneath you. As you strip your clothes you watch her grab a black strap-on from her bag.
“Do you do this with all your groupies?” you tease.
“Just the pretty ones,” she says, shedding her clothes and putting on the strap, “Now, back on the bench.”
You sit, waiting for further instructions, but instead, she grabs the back of your head and brings you to the tip of her strap.
“Be a good girl and suck my cock,” she says, stroking your cheek lovingly.
You open your mouth and take the tip of the strap in your mouth, wrapping your hand around the base. You bob your head up and down, making sure the strap gets nice and slick, all while maintaining eye contact like you know she likes. Her hand continues to caress your cheek as you suck her off, putting effort in like it’s a real cock she can get pleasure from.
But once she’s decided you’ve done enough, she pulls out of her mouth and pushes you down on the bench. Her strong hands pull your thighs apart again, the tip of the strap aligning with your entrance. Her hands grip your waist as she thrusts into you in one swift motion. You gasp at the sudden length and girth but she brings a hand to the outline of your breast, caressing it before pinching your nipple and saying, “You can take it.”
You nod, looking into her piercing eyes and spreading your legs even wider to accommodate how broad she is. She pinches your other nipple as she draws her hips back and slams into you. Off to your right, you hear people outside the door, shuffling down the hallway. But you’re unable to hold back your moans, not with the way she’s fucking you.
“Abby, what if someone hears?” you manage to choke out.
“Let them,” she says, thrusting into you harder.
“Oh, fuck,” you curse, stars dancing in your vision.
Her hands move to your waist and her strong arms hold you down, her fingers sinking into your skin as she grips you tightly. She pulls you into her all while she thrusts into you. And with one last slam of her hips, you come undone around her, pussy clenching her cock while she fuck you through your release.
“That’s right. Cum on my cock, pretty girl,” she says, her jaw slack and watching how pretty you look when you cum.
Once you’re done, she pulls out of you, standing up to take off the strap and get dressed again. You lie there trying to catch your breath and once she’s clothed she kneels by your side, handing you your clothes and saying, “Come to another match sometime.”
She kisses you, hand gripping your grin before she rises from the floor and grabs her bag, leaving you there in the locker room; a naked, shivering mess.
You sit up and reach for your phone, hastily texting Tyler to tell him you’ll be out front soon. While you wait for his response you notice that your shredded panties are gone, meaning that she must’ve taken them, another kind of trophy for her from this evening. He responds with a thumbs up and you collapse back down onto the bench, giving yourself more time to recollect yourself and replaying the night’s activities in your head.
Maybe boxing isn’t so bad.
Banners by saradika, dividers by firefly-graphics
#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson smut#abby anderson fanfiction#abby anderson x f!reader#abby anderson x female reader#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#abby tlou#abby anderson#tlou 2 remastered#tlou 2#abby anderson fanfic
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just a reminder yall that buying the tlou 2 remaster is supporting neil, which is supporting israel and its genocide against palestinians!
i love the tlou world as much as anyone else, but financially diverting away from anyone/thing/company supporting israel is one of the simplest and easiest ways palestinians have asked us to help. i hope we all consider boycotting the remaster and pirating s2
#free palestine#boycott tlou2#boycott israel#tlou hbo#tlou2#tlou 2#tlou#tlouedit#tlou 2 spoilers#tlou 2 remastered#tlou remastered#tlou2 remaster#joel miller#joel miller imagine#joel miller x reader#maria miller#tommy miller#ellie williams#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams x reader#neil druckmann#anti neil druckman
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screaming but the s is silent
#tlou 2 remastered#abby tlou#tlou x reader#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson x reader#abby the last of us#abby tlou2#abby x fem!reader#abby x y/n#abby x you#tlou#tlou 2
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hey !! quick reminder that if you purchased, are actively playing, and actively posting about tlou2 remastered, I don't want anything to do with you !! good bye !!
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The Aquarium ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°
#tlou 2#abby anderson#the last of us#tlou#tlou photomode#tlou 2 remastered#tlou 2 abby#the last of us part 2#the last of us 2#tlou 2 photomode#the last of us 2 photomode#abby the last of us
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Every day I wake up thankful the TLOU2 devs gave us this skin (smash)
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#you don't understand they are my favorite characters#mine#tlou2#tlou part 2#tlou part ii#tlou 2 remastered#tlou part two#tlou part 2 remastered#the last of us part 2#the last of us part 2 remastered#lev tlou#tlou lev#yara tlou#tlou yara#tommy miller
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This scene, this outfit.
#abby#tlou 2#tlou abby#abby anderson#my screenshots#the last of us part 2#tlou 2 remastered#the last of us part 2 remastered
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Yes. Seeing them fighting together is making me emotional actually. Thanks for asking.
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i wish she'd wear this outfit with her santa barbara haircut
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Guys can we talk about her side profile please I need to bite her 1 million trillion times on her arms
#BTW I TOOK THESE PICTURES MYSELF#I GOT TLOU AND TLOU2 FOR CHRISTMAS MWAHHAHAHAHA#PLUS A WHOLE ASS PS5#MY MOMMA ALSO BOUGHT ME THE NEW REMASTER OF TLOU 2#IM VERY HAPPY AND AUTISTIC ABOUT IT#ellie and joel#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou2#tlou 2#tlou#tlou 2 remastered#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams the last of us#tlou photomode#I ♥️ damaged whiny awkwardwomen#hyperfixation station
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Bad time will come..but life goes on 😊 @naughty-dog
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SOUTHERN COMFORT | TLOU OC x Abby Anderson Fluff
Alina and Abby get drunk and end up in the same bed together...
A thick, rich tang hung onto our cold evening breath, losing its way as I’m sure my head was deprived of air. I felt light, weightless, yet simultaneously heavy and tired, but it was as comforting as a woollen blanket. There was a chill in the air, but we didn’t feel it. Stumbling our way back from the aquarium, Abby, Manny and I had snuck out of the stadium and spent the evening drinking ourselves into oblivion, as teenagers do. But it had been one of the best nights of my life. Was it monumentally stupid of us to be stumbling through ruined cities riddled with infected and seraphites at dead of night? Of course it was. However, I think the last thing we wished to think about was death. There had been no lack of that in our short lives, and any moment spent avoiding reality was a moment well spent.
We made it to the back of the stadium, Abby and I having trawled Manny half the way there with the last of our sober strength. I was glad for her help; without her brawn I probably would’ve resigned him to a ditch. We made it halfway to Abby and Manny’s room before he began drunkenly, and very loudly, blabbering in what sounded like a concoction of broken Spanish and English.
“Abby, sabes que me amas, tuck me in when we get home?” Manny slurred with a twang of humour. In a desperate attempt to shut him up, Abby slapped her hand over his mouth and tugged him into a headlock.
“Shut up, you fucking idiot!” She stage-whispered, an impish giggle worming its way into her tone, making her sound less authoritative and more like a misbehaving child. Simultaneously, I was forced to take the precaution of crossing my legs, the situation making me laugh harder than I were allowed. However our hijinks were curtly interrupted by a crisp crescendo of footsteps echoing through the stairwell. Obviously our feeble attempts at sneaking had woken someone. Who? We didn't dare find out.
Abby’s warm hand guided the small of my back, frantically pushing us into her dorm, which I was unaware we had reached. I just about stayed on my feet from the force. In one swift movement, we were in and the door was artfully shut. We all remained still, like stunned varmint. The methodic drum of hardware boots vacillating between each end of the hallway kept us still. We actively avoided looking at each other, sharing the knowledge that if we did, we’d wouldn't keep composure. Eventually, the footsteps receded and descended back down the stairwell. Muscles I didn’t know were tensed relax themselves.
“Santa mierda, that was a close one.” Manny uttered, with the most clarity I had heard him speak with all night.
“I thought we were fucked,” I chuckled, glancing over at Abby. She was smiling, flushed with adrenaline and alcohol. Our eyes connect, for a second. And it’s just us. But only for a second. The violating screech of Manny’s squeaky mattress pierced our intimate moment. We both looked over to see him already passed out on his bed. The adrenaline from our close encounter had sobered me slightly, but I was grateful for it. A double take confirms that Manny is knocked out cold, and my eyes travelled back over to Abby. She was now sat on her bed, sluggishly taking off her coat and boots. My eyes traced her hands as she unpicked her laces. They travelled up and up until they reach her eyes which were now looking into mine. I expected some awkwardness, but it never arrived. We could’ve stayed there forever, absorbing each other features, absorbing the bittersweetness of that moment. We both understood what was happen, but neither were ready to admit it were so.
Overwhelmed, I broke the connection, scared of what may happen if I let it linger. As I walked over to her, I stay mindful of the heaviness of my footsteps. I awkwardly place myself on the bed next to her, our skin barely touching, but it felt electric. She doesn’t yet acknowledge me, too focused on escaping those uncomfortable combat boots. She concealed it, but seemed just as anxious. My gaze was fixed on her, magnetic. I couldn’t look away. She had no idea how perfect she looked. She didn’t even have to do anything.
Finally, our eyes reconnect. It’s just as overwhelming. Her lips part, she wants to say something. She doesn’t. I try to break the uncomfortable silence.
“I don’t know if I’ll make it back to my room tonight.” The threat of being caught hovering over me. I gestured to the door, but her eyes don’t break from mine.
“Stay then. There’s room.” That sentence sucked the air from her, like it was the last thing to exit her mouth. Her dying wish. I nodded. Nothing else needed to be said. Despite the telling quiet, I feared getting caught more than I feared sharing a bed with Abby. Although the thought set a boulder-like weight in the pit of my stomach.
I didn’t have sleep clothes on me, (obviously) so nicked one of Manny’s many shorts and T-shirts. Not the first time I’d been subjected to his musty laundry, but it’s more appropriate than going nude. By the time I had changed, Abby was already snug under the duvet. Apprehension took over. This felt wrong, more so than sneaking out drinking. An intruding sensation of disgust took me over, churning and bubbling in my stomach, and my dads voice rang in my ears.
'The acts of the flesh are obvious,' Do you remember the rest?
Abby's voice disperses his heinous words, "Are you getting in or...?”
I refused to let him ruin such a good day. A forced smile to crossed my face, and I slid in beside her. The duvet was warm from the heat of her body, which began pleasantly coaxing me to sleep. I felt a shift as she turned over to face me, our bodies so close it stung. A youthful, exciting static built between us, or maybe it was just the remaining buzz of alcohol.
“So, did you have fun this evening?” She whispers, an anxious yet hopeful glint in her voice.
“I did you know. I really did.” I pause. “For the first time in a while I actually enjoyed myself.”
She smiles, “See, I told you it would be nice. You need to believe me more.” We shared a gentle laugh, a genuine laugh. Something only she could evoke from me.
“I do. I’m just scared to.” The sentence escapes me, I didn’t intend to say it, bet it rolled off my tongue like a snowflake. That snowflake would soon become a snowball. "Why? What's so scary?" She queries. Cautiousness holds me close, but for once I refuse. I break it's grasp, maybe it's the alcohol talking but I want to be brave. I want her to break me down. "Because no one has given me a reason to feel safe with them."
"Not even me?" She snickers, masking her hurt.
"No... you're different." I hope that reassures her.
We spoke deep into the night, but time ran from us and we didn’t care to compete with it. I was sharing things that had never left my mouth let alone the depths of my mind. Abby already knew so much of me, but that was my gift to her. She earned my trust just as my cousin did. She was as good as family. Better than.
“I have a question.” I wait for her with exhausted ease. I’d tell her just about anything at that moment.
“Why do you trust me so much? Out of everyone. Why me?”
I could tell this was a self indulgent question, but I was happy to answer.
“You tried the hardest. You actually cared.” A flicker of confusion crosses her face, “People care about you, the others care so much?”
“Of course they do, that’s indisputable. But you cared the most. Everyone else would’ve easily forgotten me. But you didn’t. Even when I’d hide myself away, put my walls up, you did everything in your power to break them down. For the first time, you made me feel wanted... in a good way.”
She was silent for a second, stone faced, drinking in what I had said. Her expression shifted, it was solemn and tender and loving. Almost motherly. It took me aback. Her hand shifted from beneath the duvet and up to my face, the tips of her fingers brushing my cheek. She cupped it and used her thumb to carefully stroke my cheek. Her touch made time stop, the world around me disappeared into swirling colours.
“You’re always wanted Alina. I’ve always wanted you.” The words just about escape her lips they’re so quiet. But they resonate with me louder than anything else I had heard. Before I could respond she pulled me closer to her and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. Like second nature, I rested my face on her collar. Soon we’re both asleep, blissfully unaware of the world we survive in. It was just me and her. She had a knack for making me feel this way.
#the last of us#tlou#tlou 2#abby anderson#abby the last of us#the last of us part 2#tlou 2 remastered#tlou game#oc#original character#oc x character#lgbt#lesbian#sapphic#wlw#sapphic yearning#abby anderson fluff#fluff#one bed trope#southern comfort is a shit drink
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Good Girls Suck the Strap
Abby Anderson x F!Reader
Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist
Author’s note: Thank you to @wannab-urs for beta reading 🤍
Word count: 1k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, porn with no plot, dom/sub dynamic, strap on fucking (reader receiving), strap sucking, nipple play, mommy kink, slapping, choking, no aftercare, no use of y/n
You’re lying on the bed and shivering, goosebumps pricking your skin and nipples perked up.
“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” Abby taunts, towering over you with her mouth curled into a devious grin.
“Y-Yes, Abby. I swear,” you plead.
“I don’t know if I believe you. Gonna have to fuck you stupid and find out,” she says, shedding layers of clothes before reaching for her bag. You know exactly what she’s looking for— her strap.
She pulls it out of her bag, black leather straps and a matching shiny dildo, one of an imposing size. You gulp watching her put it on, straps resting against her muscular thighs. You spread your legs apart, body aching for her touching… for her strap.
“Aw, look at you. So desperate. Not so fast, though,” she teases, reaching forward and grabbing you by the back of the neck, forcing you upright.
“Good girls suck the strap,” she says, holding your face directly in front of the tip. You look up at her, eyes pleading for mercy, for her to just fuck you already. But instead, she brings a hand to your chin.
“Open,” she commands.
You open your mouth and take the strap in your mouth, eyes locked with hers seeking her praise so desperately.
“Keep going,” she says, moving her hand to the back of your head and keeping her grip firm.
You take as much of it in your mouth as you fit, putting on a show for her and making sure it’s soaked. You bob your head up and down, wrapping your hand around the base and feeling your saliva drop down the shaft.
Once she thinks you’ve done an acceptable job, she pulls the strap from your mouth, pushing you down on the bed. This time she forces your thighs apart, fingers playing with the slickness that’s built up at your entrance already.
“So wet for me already and all you did was suck my cock,” she teases, fingers ghosting your clit.
“Abby, please,” you whine, your body shivering with anticipation.
“I’m sorry, are you begging?” she says, getting on the bed and hovering over you. She places her hands by either side of your head, face inches away from yours, her breath tickling as she interrogates you.
“…Maybe.”
“Nope. I need you to say it. Beg for my cock,” she continues, her fingers still playing with your wetness.
“Fuck. Please, Abby. I need your cock already,” you whimper.
“Good girl,” she says, aligning the strap with your entrance. She thrusts inside you in one swift motion. You let out a sharp gasp at the sudden feeling, prompting her to tease you further.
“You can take it. Come on, be a good girl and take my cock,” she says, drawing her hips back and slamming into you again. Your walls expand to accommodate the size of the strap, feeling yourself get completely full. Your moans pick up, growing incessant as she fucks you, burying her strap deeper and deeper inside you. Your eyes start to flutter close for a moment, your senses overwhelmed by the force of her hips and her piercing gaze. But that just won’t do.
She brings a hand to the outline of your breast, thinking she’s maybe being gentle for once. Until her hand inches closer to your nipple, pinching it between her fingertips.
“Look at me when I fuck you,” she commands as another sharp gasp escapes your lips.
You open your eyes, meeting her gaze once again. Her brow is furrowed and sweat is building up on her forehead. Pieces of hair fall loose from her braid, coming undone from the strength she’s using to fuck you. Her hand rests at the base of your neck and you look at her muscular arm, looking at how perfectly she grips your throat. You’re completely at her mercy, becoming reduced to a whimpering, shaking mess.
“Abby, please. I’m gonna cum.”
“Try that again,” she says with a smirk.
“Fuck.”
“Try that again or you don’t get to cum,” she commands.
“Fuck. Can I cum, mommy? Please.”
“Have you earned it?”
“I have! I’ve been such a good girl, mommy. Please let me cum.”
“Go ahead,” she says, her grip around your neck tightening as she slams her hips into you with the most force she’s used yet. Your cunt convulses around her strap, your orgasm lasting longer as she fucks you through it, her pace never faltering. Waves of pleasure originate at your core, spreading outwards until your entire body is filled with euphoria, your mind filled with nothing but thoughts of Abby and her fucking strap. Hot tears roll down your cheeks much to Abby’s delight as she swipes one away with her thumb, taking pride in the mess she’s turned you into.
“What do you say?” she says, starting to slow down once your orgasm starts to dwindle.
“Thank you, mommy,” you breathe out.
She pulls out of you quickly, much to your chagrin. You whine at the sudden absence, causing her to taunt you yet again.
“Aw, you were doing so good,” she teases. She grabs you by the back of your neck again, forcing you upright and face to face again with her strap.
“Now suck my cock again. Make sure it’s clean,” she says, hand returning to the back of your head.
You take the strap in your mouth once more, tasting yourself on it this time. You maintain eye contact with her, seeking her praise as you lick the strap clean. She abruptly pulls it from your mouth, crouching down in front of you at your eye level. You look at her with wide eyes, wondering what she’s going to do to you next.
“Good girl,” she praises before slapping you across the face, “Now clean yourself up.”
She rises from the floor and takes off her strap, before walking to the bathroom and leaving you there— a wet, shaking mess.
End note: I guess you can send me Abby requests now 😭🤭
ALSO I could not find credit for the gif so if that is you or someone you know pls lmk 🤍🤍
Tagging some mutuals: @amanitacowboy @pamasaur @fhatbhabie @littlegrungegirlaf @hyzer34
#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson fanfiction#abby anderson x you#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby anderson x f!reader#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x female reader#tlou 2#the last of us part two#tlou 2 remastered
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