My Lesbian Friend Crying Because Someone Got Her Girlfriend Pregnant

Ellie and Abby would tug on your necklace when you fuck

Would go absolutely feral if it was a monogram of their first initial

wish you were sober

ellie williams x fem!reader

main masterlist

summary: ellie was done with helping you with your problems. but even if she was, she couldn't help to choose you over and over again.

word count: 3.8k

cw: based off of the songs wish you were sober, memories and the cut that always bleeds by conan gray. no use of y/n. drinking.

It was supposed to be the party of the year.

At least, that’s what you kept telling Ellie to drag her out of her room and join you. And it worked—well, sort of. Because now, here she was, standing near the bar, sipping on some ridiculously overpriced cocktail.

The truth is she didn’t want to be here. She was exhausted, the music was too loud, the crowd too suffocating. But you didn’t seem to notice her irritation. Maybe because you were too drunk to see it.

Her green eyes never left your figure. Across the room, you were surrounded by a group of strangers, laughing too loud, swaying like you were about to fall. But you didn’t seem to care. You were too caught up in the moment, too busy drowning in the attention of people who didn’t even know you. Some guy leaned in closer, fingers brushing lazily against your arm, clearly hoping for something more. But you barely acknowledged him, too wrapped up in the drunken blur.

Ellie hated this. Hated watching you pretend this was fun, hated how you sought validation from anyone who’d offer it. Her grip tightened around her glass as she watched, heart hammering, frustration boiling over. That was enough.

She pushed through the crowd, and by the time she reached you, she didn’t hesitate. Her fingers wrapped swiftly around your wrist, voice sharp with impatience. "Alright, rockstar. We’re leaving. Now."

You pouted, trying to make up some excuse, but your dizzyness didn't let you make a single coherent thought. And then, the guy showed up again.

"Hey, doll, is this dyke bothering you?"

Your pout vanished. Without hesitation, you struck him across the cheek. "Watch that nasty mouth, you asshole!"

Before he could even recover, Ellie was already dragging you through the crowd, gripping your wrist tight, her only thought to get you the hell out of there. The moment she pushed through the front door and into the night air, she exhaled sharply, guiding you toward her Jeep.

But you had other plans. You stumbled, resisting her grip, turning toward her with an intoxicated smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "C’mon, El. One more drink?"

She scoffed, "You can barely stand."

"So?" You leaned in, the scent of alcohol clinging to your breath. It made her sick. "You’re cute when you’re all mad at me."

Ellie’s jaw tightened. "I’m not playing this game with you."

You giggled, head tilting. "What game?"

"This," she snapped, motioning between you two. "You getting wasted, making me chase after you, acting like none of this matters when—" She stopped herself, lips pressing into a thin line. When it does. When you do.

You swayed on your feet, the pout returning. "Ellie…"

She sighed, shaking her head. "Just get in the car." And for once, you listened.

The drive home was completely and utterly silent, the only sounds were the faint hum of the engine. The city lights streaked past in a blur, neon smudging against the glass, but you weren’t paying attention to any of it. You just kept glancing at her. She was mad. She had every right to be.

But right now, all you could focus on was how pretty she looked, lips slightly parted, brows furrowed in frustration. How even angry, even exhausted, she was still Ellie.

The car slowed as she pulled up to your place. "Alright. You’re home," she muttered.

You didn’t move. Didn't even try to leave.

Ellie turned to look at you, sighing when she saw the way you were staring at her, dazed and drunk and something else entirely. "Come on, let’s get you inside."

But instead of fumbling for the door handle, you reached for her. Your fingers curled around her leather jacket, tugging her closer before she could react. And then—you kissed her, desperately.

She gasped against your mouth, surprised but not pulling away. Because despite everything, she chose to be selfish for a second, and kissed you back.

Her hands found your flushed cheeks, tugging you closer as your lips moved in sync, soft and desperate, like this was something you'd both been aching for. And maybe you had been. Maybe you always had.

But then, Ellie’s hands tensed. She pulled back, breathless, blinking like she’d just realized what was happening.

"Fuck," she whispered, her lips swollen.

You tried to chase after her mouth again, hands sliding up her chest, but Ellie caught your wrists, stopping you before you could deepen it.

"Hey, stop," she said, voice firm.

You pouted, brows furrowing, but she didn’t let go. "You're drunk," she stated, like she needed to remind herself just as much as she needed to remind you.

"So?" Your voice was slurred, teasing, but Ellie wasn’t smiling.

"So, I’m not gonna let you do this," she snapped, shaking her head. "I’m not gonna be some fucking mistake you regret in the morning."

"Ellie," you mumbled, reaching for her again, but she pulled away completely this time, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

"You don’t even get it, do you?" she said, laughing bitterly. "You’re too wasted to even realize what you’re doing to me."

You frowned, confused. Ellie clenched her jaw. "I’m not gonna let you kiss me like that just because you’re drunk and looking for something to hold onto."

Silence. You just stared at her, swaying slightly in your seat, the alcohol making everything too slow, too blurry. Ellie exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Just—go inside. Sleep it off."

She didn’t wait for a response. The moment you fumbled your way out of the car, she was gone.

The next morning was hell for both of you. On one side, Ellie barely slept. She had gone home after dropping you off, heart still racing, hands shaking as she paced her room, trying to make sense of everything. Of the way you kissed her like you meant it. Of how she let herself fall into it, let herself believe that —for just a second—you wanted her the way she did.

And then she remembered. You were drunk. So drunk you could barely stand. So drunk you probably didn’t even know what you were doing. So drunk that you might not even remember it. The thought alone made something in her chest twist painfully.

She had spent the night lying awake, staring at her ceiling, eyes burning from holding back tears that eventually spilled over anyway. By the time morning came, she was exhausted, her mind still replaying the kiss over and over and over again like some cruel joke.

When there was a knock at her door, Ellie almost ignored it. But then she heard your voice. Small. Wrecked. "El?" Her stomach dropped.

But then she heard it. A quiet, choked-off sob. Ellie cursed under her breath and yanked the door open. And there you were. You looked awful.

Your hair was a mess, your clothes were wrinkled, and your eyes—fuck, your eyes were red-rimmed and glossy, tears already streaking down your cheeks. You were still in last night’s clothes, your makeup smudged, your body trembling from either the cold or the hangover or something else entirely.

Ellie’s chest ached just looking at you.

"Jesus," she muttered, stepping aside. "Come in."

You didn’t hesitate, and Ellie shut the door behind you. "You look like shit."

"Feel like it, too."

You sat on the edge of her bed, sniffling. "Ellie, I—" Your voice cracked, and you shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Ellie sat in the chair by her desk, keeping space between you. She didn’t trust herself to be too close right now.

"You what?" she asked, voice hoarse.

You sniffled again, looking down at your hands. But you didn't finish the sentence. You didn't look up at her. Ellie inhaled sharply. What if you didn’t even remember the kiss?

She shifted in her chair. "Do you… do you remember what happened?"

Your brows furrowed, your head tilting slightly. But then something snapped in realization, your eyes wide. "I kissed you."

Ellie exhaled sharply, like the words had physically struck her. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Yeah, you did."

You swallowed, looking down again, fingers digging into your palms. "Ellie, I—"

But Ellie wasn’t sure she could hear whatever you were about to say next. "Don’t," she cut in, shaking her head. "Don’t you dare to say something just because you feel bad."

Your head snapped up. "That’s not—"

"You were drunk, okay?" Ellie’s voice cracked, her walls finally breaking, all of last night’s emotions crashing over her at once. "You were drunk, and I can’t—I can’t be the person you run to when you’re falling apart just to forget about it the next day."

Tears slipped down your cheeks again. "That’s not what I—"

"Then what is it?" she demanded, eyes burning, "because you don’t get to do that to me. You don’t get to kiss me like that and act like it didn’t mean anything."

Instead of saying something, you broke down crying in front of her, gasping for air. And Ellie just watched you crumble. Her red-rimmed eyes flashed with something close to fury. "No. You don't get to kiss me like that, to touch me like that, making me feel like you actually wanted me. And then just… walking away from it."

Your stomach twisted painfully. "It wasn’t nothing!"

Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. "Then what was it, huh? Tell me, because I’m done guessing."

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. The words got stuck in your throat. Ellie’s jaw tightened. "That’s what I thought."

"El, please—"

"I can’t do this anymore." She let out a shaky exhale, looking away.

Your vision blurred with fresh tears. "Do what?"

"Be the person you run to when everything else falls apart," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

"That’s not true," you croaked, chest aching.

"But you can’t even say it back," Ellie whispered, now crying too.

Silence hung heavy between you. And that was it. That was the moment it all fell apart. Ellie inhaled sharply, wiping at her tired, swollen eyes before turning toward the door. "Go home."

"Ellie—"

"Go."

You wanted to say something, to fix it, to make her believe you. But you didn’t even know what you believed. So, with a broken sob, you turned and left.

And when the door closed behind you, Ellie stayed standing there, realizing everything that happened, letting the waves of anger and frustation hit her harder than anything she had endured before.

She could learn to live without you. She had to.

A few months passed and Ellie was doing better. Or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself. It was hard to close the chapter of you in her life, because you kept coming back. But it had been weeks since you stopped looking for her, and even if she still cried some nights, she was happier.

And now, she was here. Sitting across from a beautiful girl at a quiet little bar just outside of town, trying—really trying—to focus on the way she laughed, the way her dark curls bounced when she tilted her head.

So, when Dina reached across the table and nudged Ellie’s fingers with her own, Ellie let herself smile.

Then her phone buzzed. She ignored it, but minutes passed, and it buzzed again. And again. Ellie pulled it out, brow furrowing. Four missed calls, unknown number.

Her first instinct was to ignore it, to flip her phone over and go back to pretending she was fine. But something twisted in her stomach, so she sighed and muttered, "Sorry, gimme a sec," before answering on the fifth ring. "Hello?"

There was a pause, then a man’s voice. When he said your name, Ellie immediately sat up straighter. Her grip tightened on the phone. "Who is this?"

"Some guy who works at the bar she decided to pass out in," he said. "Look, her dumb ass got wasted, and I found her unconscious in the bathroom. Checked her phone for an emergency contact—your name was the only one listed. But the stupid phone ran out of battery."

She swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. "Is she okay?"

"She’s breathing, but she ain’t moving." When the guy didn't hear any response, his voice grew impatient. "Look, you gonna come get her or what?"

Ellie closed her eyes. Anger curled inside her throat. Of course, after all these months—after all the nights she spent trying to forget—you still found a way to drag her back in. "Yeah," she muttered. "Text me the address." She hung up and exhaled sharply.

"El?" Dina’s voice pulled her back. "What’s wrong?"

She hesitated, "I, uh—" She looked at her, at the warmth in her brown eyes, at the soft concern on her face. She didn’t deserve this. "I gotta go."

Dina frowned. “What? Why?”

Ellie hesitated. She didn’t want to explain. Didn’t want to say your name out loud. So she just shook her head and muttered, "It’s complicated."

The brunette studied her, but she finally nodded. "Okay. Just call when you get home."

She apologized again, and left Dina at the bar.

By the time Ellie arrived at the location, she was pissed. Not just at you, but at herself. For dropping everything.

The bartended guided her to the bathrooms, and then she saw you—slumped over, your head resting on your folded arms, barely conscious.

"Jesus Christ," Ellie muttered under her breath. She turned to the bartender, who was wiping down the counter. "How much did she have?"

The guy shrugged. "Enough to black out."

Ellie clenched her jaw. With a frustrated sigh, she crouched beside you, nudging your shoulder. "Hey, you."

You stirred, groaning softly. Your head lifted just barely, and when your blurry eyes found hers, you blinked like you couldn’t believe she was real. "Ellie?"

She ignored the way her heart clenched at the sound of it. "Come on," she muttered, sliding an arm under yours and hauling you up. "Let’s get you out of here."

You barely had the strength to stand. Your legs gave out almost immediately, and Ellie cursed under her breath before looping your arm around her shoulders, taking most of your weight.

"Fuck, you stink," she muttered.

You only hummed in response, your head lolling against her shoulder. She payed for your drinks and dragged you toward the exit. "Where are your keys?" No response.

Ellie tried again, slower. "Do you have your keys?"

You groaned, barely shaking your head. Ellie clenched her teeth. "Fucking great."

That meant she had to take you to her place. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want you anywhere near her space, didn’t want to wake up tomorrow morning and see you there, hungover and regretful. But she didn’t have another choice. She dragged you to her car, helped you into the passenger seat, and slammed the door shut before walking around to the driver’s side.

You were slumped against the window, barely conscious for the entire ride. Ellie kept glancing at you, hoping to see your chest rise.

This wasn’t her problem anymore. You weren’t her problem anymore. And yet, here she was. Again. By the time she pulled into her driveway, she was exhausted. She parked, turned off the engine, and sighed. "Alright, come on."

Getting you inside was a struggle. You could barely walk, and Ellie had to practically carry you through the front door. She kicked it shut behind her, then dragged you to the couch, letting you collapse onto it.

You groaned, curling into yourself. Ellie exhaled sharply. "Un-fucking-believable,"

She should’ve left you there. Should’ve let you deal with the mess you made. But she didn’t. Because she knew you. She knew how you didn't get along with your family, and you didn't have many friends. It didn't surpised her much when the guy said she was your only emercengy contact, but her stomach dropped anyway.

Ellie grabbed a blanket, put it over you, then stood there, staring at you for a long moment. Even like this—drunk, a mess, barely coherent—some stupid part of her still thought you looked beautiful. And that pissed her off even more.

She shook her head and turned away, heading for her room. She needed sleep. Needed space. But before she could leave, you whispered her name. Soft. Broken. She froze. You shifted slightly, blinking up at her with half-lidded, glassy eyes. "I missed you... so much..."

Ellie inhaled sharply. Her throat burned. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Just turned off the lights and walked away.

Hours later, Ellie woke up to silence.

For a moment, she thought maybe you were still asleep on the couch. But when she went to the living room, it was empty. The blanket she had thrown over you was folded poorly on the armrest, the glass of water she had left on the coffee table sat untouched. You were gone.

Ellie cursed under her breath, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as a sick feeling curled in her stomach. You had been wasted. Barely coherent. And now, after everything, you had just... left?

She grabbed her phone, quickly opening her messages.

Ellie: Where the fuck are you?

The text delivered. No reply. She waited a minute, then another. Nothing.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to be the one still worrying, still caring when she shouldn’t. But the image of you, barely standing, slurring words, needing her to hold you up, wouldn’t leave her head. She shook her head typed again.

Ellie: You better not have gone out drinking again.

Still nothing. Her chest tightened. You were stupid sometimes. But you weren’t—no, you wouldn’t—Would you?

She tried calling. The phone rang once, twice, then went straight to voicemail. Ellie ran a hand down her face, pacing the length of her room. Don’t freak out. She’s probably fine. She probably just—

Her phone buzzed. She grabbed it so fast she nearly dropped it. But when she looked at the screen, it wasn’t you. It was Dina.

Ellie exhaled sharply, closing her eyes for a second before answering. "Hey."

"Hi," Dina’s voice was soft, cautious. "You okay?"

Ellie hesitated. She knew she should tell Dina everything, tell her why she left mid-date, tell her why her hands were shaking slightly—she couldn’t.

"Yeah," she muttered. "Just—tired."

Dina was quiet for a second, like she didn’t believe her. "You wanna come over?"

Ellie stared at the blank screen of her phone, waiting for a text that wouldn’t come. "I—" She stopped. Swallowed, weighting her options. "Yeah. Yeah, I’ll come over."

Because what else was she supposed to do? Sit here and worry about you? Chase after you when you clearly didn’t want to be found? No. She wasn’t going to do that anymore.

So Ellie grabbed her keys, shoved her phone into her pocket, and walked out the door, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut the whole time.

A year had passed since everything had fallen apart.

Ellie wasn’t sure when it had happened, but at some point, the aching weight of you in her chest had begun to fade. Not entirely, but enough to finally move forward, to let Dina in.

The party was in full swing, neon lights flashing against the walls, music loud enough to drown out anything but the thrum of bass and laughter. Ellie had never really liked these kinds of things, but Dina had a way of making everything feel easy. Effortless.

"You’re staring."

Ellie huffed a laugh, fingers tightening at Dina’s waist as she pulled her back in. "Yeah? Maybe ‘cause you look hot."

Dina rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. "You’re such a flirt."

She leaned in, the scent of Dina’s perfume familiar, grounding. Then, the air shifted. It was subtle—but Ellie felt it before she even turned her head, and found you. You looked so different. And yet, still you.

Your hair was longer, your face softer, fuller, like you had finally started taking care of yourself. And your eyes—god, your eyes. Clear. Sober. Bright in a way she hadn’t seen in years. You looked good. No, you looked great. And it made Ellie’s stomach twist because fuck, fuck, fuck—why did you still have this effect on her?

You stood near the bar, talking to someone, laughing at something they said. But then, as if you had felt her staring, your gaze lifted, landing directly on her.

Ellie’s grip on Dina faltered. You tilted your head, and then you smiled. Soft. Almost hesitant at first. Ellie felt her chest tighten. She shouldn’t care. She didn’t care.

Dina shifted against her, pulling her back. "Hey," she murmured, not noticing the way Ellie had gone stiff, the way her breathing had gone shallow. "You okay?"

Ellie forced herself to look away. “Yeah.” Her throat felt dry. “Yeah, I’m good.”

But she wasn’t. Because you were here. And you were better. And Ellie wasn’t sure if she was relieved or absolutely wrecked by it.

By the time the song finished, Ellie was already excusing herself, and making her way to you. Her body acted before her brain could even catch up. Maybe it was muscle memory—an instinct buried so deep inside her that it didn’t matter how much time had passed, how much she had tried to move on.

Her fingers twitched at her sides as she closed the distance, pushing past dancing bodies, the bass vibrating through her ribs. You were so close now, just a few steps away. But someone else got to you first.

A tall, broad-shouldered woman approached from behind, her presence commanding even in a crowded room. She was built like a warrior, blonde hair gracefully interwined in a long braid. Her hand slid around your waist, fingers pressing into your hip with a familiarity that made Ellie’s stomach churn.

And then, right before she could say your name, the woman leaned down and kissed you. She should’ve looked away. She should’ve turned around, should’ve gone back to Dina, should’ve swallowed down the burning feeling clawing its way up her throat.

But she didn’t. Instead, she just stood there, frozen, watching as you melted into the touch—into her. Ellie clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She had no right to be upset. No right to feel this pit in her stomach, this dull ache in her chest, this overwhelming, gut-wrenching sense of loss.

You looked healthier. Stronger. Happier. And for the first time in her life, she realized that maybe she was the only one who never really moved on. Without another word, without waiting for you to look back at her, Ellie turned and left.

gender is NOT the same as sex. gender is what you identify as, while sex is what i'll be having with ellie tonight. stay informed.

babygirl 🥺

★ — HELP WANTED

★ — pairing : canon/contractor!abby anderson x fem!reader

★ — as a new homeowner, paying full price to get a remodel on things was so expensive. luckily abby anderson gave pretty faces major discounts.

★ — warnings : sexual content

🔖 : @thaatdigitaldiary @d3arapril @rosemariiaa @ashortyluvsports

you weren’t much of a handyman—or handywoman, for that matter. when you moved into your new house, you quickly realized that the charm of its old bones came with a laundry list of things that needed fixing: a leaky faucet, creaky doors, shelves that threatened to collapse if you so much as looked at them.

that’s how you met abby anderson.

the first time you saw her, she was unloading a truck across the street, all lean muscles and work boots, her blonde braid sticking out from under a baseball cap. you didn’t think much of it at first, too busy trying to wrestle a box through your own front door. but when you dropped it with a loud thud, she appeared out of nowhere.

“you need a hand?”

her voice was warm, slightly teasing, and when you looked up, you were momentarily struck by her presence. abby was… well, extremely beautiful. sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, and a crooked smile that could melt steel.

——

after helping you with the box, abby quickly learned about your diy incompetence.

“so,” she said a few days later, leaning against the doorframe as you struggled to fix a curtain rod. “you always this good with tools, or am i just special enough to witness it?”

you turned, rolling your eyes at her smirk. “yeah, yeah, laugh it up. at least i’m trying.”

she chuckled, her gaze dropping to the small pile of mismatched screws and nails at your feet. “tell you what—how about i come by this weekend and help you out? i’m pretty handy, if i do say so myself.”

you hesitated, but the truth was you needed the help. “are you sure? i don’t wanna intrude.”

“darlin’,” she said, stepping closer and giving you a lopsided grin. “it’d be my pleasure.”

——

that sunday, abby showed up in a tank top and work pants, a toolbox slung over one shoulder. she whistled low when you opened the door.

“well, look at you,” she said, her eyes dragging over the black cropped tank you had on, showing off the bold tattoo on your right shoulder. “you dress up for me?”

you blushed, shaking your head. “you wish.”

“maybe i do,” she replied, her voice dropping slightly as she brushed past you, her shoulder grazing yours.

the day passed with abby fixing things at lightning speed while you hovered nearby, asking questions and offering her water or snacks. she made it impossible to concentrate, the way her muscles flexed when she tightened screws or hammered nails.

at one point, she caught you staring.

“enjoyin’ the view, ma’am?” she asked, smirking as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

you stammered, “i—i was just tryna’ make sure you were doin’ it right, that’s all.”

“uh-huh.” she leaned closer, her voice dipping into something more intimate. “if you’ve got any other… inspections in mind, let me know.”

your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face.

——

by the time the sun set, abby had fixed more in one day than you thought possible. the two of you were sitting on the floor of your living room, surrounded by tools and scraps, laughing about the crooked shelf you had tried to install before she arrived.

“i can’t believe you thought duct tape would hold that up,” she teased, nudging you with her knee.

“look, desperate times, desperate measures,” you defended, shaking your head. “besides, you’re the expert. that’s why i have you now.”

her smile softened, and for a moment, the teasing faded. “yeah,” she said quietly. “you do.”

the air between you shifted, tension crackling like a live wire. abby’s gaze dropped to your lips, and you felt your breath catch.

“i—“ you started, but the words got stuck in your throat when abby reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“you’re something else, y’know that?” she murmured, her voice low and husky. “been drivin’ me crazy all day.”

your heart hammered in your chest. “abby…”

“tell me to stop,” she said, her forehead nearly touching yours now. “i will. just say the word.”

instead of answering, you closed the gap, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that was so soft at first but quickly deepened. abby’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer as the tension of the day finally snapped.

when you pulled back, breathless, she smirked. “so… does this mean i’m gettin’ that ‘thank-you’ dinner you promised?”

you laughed, tugging her back in. “dinner can wait.”

——

abby had you sprawled against your bed, the same bed that she fixed hours earlier. your bra was thrown across the room, landing on the vanity she just remodeled.

“fuckin’ beautiful, i fuckin’ knew it,” she says, looking at you like prey, and you can feel yourself salivating at the way her muscles bulge when she manhandles you. “spread those legs, sweetheart, lemme’ see you.”

you spread yourself to abby’s liking, your pants and panties discarded on your rug, leaving you fully bare in front of your next-door-neighbor.

her mouth damn near waters at the sight, your folds glistening in slick, simply because she talks to you nice. abby eats that shit up, making sure the neighborhood knows she does this to you.

“let me in, baby.” she says, as her fingers start pumping in and out of your pussy, the squelching noise driving her batshit crazy. she’s on top of you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. “pussy’s talkin’ to me, isn’t she?” she says, inserting another finger inside of you.

“shitttt, abby, don’t talk like that.” you whimper, causing abby’s pace to speed up when she hits that sweet spot inside of you, causing your moans to grow louder and louder.

“shh… gotta be quiet sweetheart, you just got here—you want the neighbors to know my name already?” she whispers against your skin, leaving messy kisses along your tits.

she’s forcing you to grind into her fingers, the show your giving alone making her boxers a soaked mess.

“p—please, abby…” you pant, your head spinning and baby hairs sticking to your forehead.

“i’ll give it to ya’ sweet girl, always so fuckin’ patient, yeah?” abby’s breath starts to hitch as you dig your nails into her back, her chest clad with a black sports bra.

“gonna… abby please, i’m so close—,” you manage to let out, and abby takes this as a signal to let you finish. she holds your body down, pumping at lightning speed, listening to your moans grow and watching your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“c’mon sweetheart, all over my fingers.” your stomach snaps, and sudden flow rushes through your body and right onto abby’s digits. you were shaking, abby’s thick fingers leaving you in a trance, all of her handy work being put to use.

“jesus, abby. you do this to all your new neighbors?” you say, attempting to catch your breath.

“nah, just you honey.”

——

the night stretched on, filled with whispered laughs and stolen kisses, and for once, you were thankful for all the broken things that had brought her to your door.

I just saw someone say that the rat king could be representative of Abby's greatest fear - a hulking monster rampaging through a hospital. As in a monster rampaging through a hospital and killing everything in its path. As in Joel (likely a monster in Abby's eyes) rampaging through the hospital and killing everyone in his path including Abby's father. And then a smaller enemy (the stalker) comes off of the rat king and she has to fight it once the main threat is dead and gone. The stalker representing how Ellie becomes a threat once the main enemy (Joel) is dead and gone.

Oh!

Are y'all okay? Are y'all like, allowed to be happy or are we just fine trying to find new ways to hurt people's feelings?

jackson ellie you are soo underrated

more thinkin, more blurbin is being done so...now i can't stop thinking about kissing all over ellie's body before you go down on her HEH. #givemethat. as per uzh idfk what this is. foreplay blurb? kinda fluffy, nsfw but not tewww much? HAPPY TRAIL MENTION. "where are all these random ass blurbs coming from?" ask ur mom.

you admire her bare form with nothing but love in your eyes, grinning widely at the sight before you. she looked so beautiful like this, a sea of creamy skin adorned with cinnamon flecks and a coral dusting of blush, the thinnest sheen of sweat making her sparkle like a fairy.

tattoed hand rising to cover her face, "you gonna keep staring at me or you gonna do something?" she probed with a light teasing edge to her voice—despite her shyness, she was charmed.

"ellie, you're too fuckin' pretty. do you know that?" the blush in her face only deepened to a fresh crimson color, the flattery feeling foreign to her. "i'm gonna take my time." you mumble, slowly leaning in to her neck, which she had so conveniently craned her head to the side to give you easy access. you kiss, you nip, and you nibble on the sweet, sensitive skin, making sure to hover over her in such a way that your body grazes hers just right. content sighs fall from her lips and she closes her eyes in enjoyment.

you begin the descent—smooch, smooch, smooch on her throat to her elegant collarbones, then you drop down to her soft chest. you bring your hand to paw at the flesh, circling her pebbled nipple with your thumb, while you lower your mouth to the other one, wrap your lips around the bud and suck her in your mouth. she grips onto your head tightly, her back arching at the sensation, breathy moans of your name filling your ears. "thats— that's so good." you release her with a pop, then move on down some more.

you place your hands on her sides, fingertips dancing on her hipbones, tongue exploring her skin, tasting her. you kiss a line down the center of her abdomen, paying special attention to her happy trail, naturally. you licked a stripe up the entire length of it, raising your line of sight to stare her right in the eyes.

she bucked her hips up in frustration, growing increasingly needy for your touch elsewhere. she whined and huffed, grumbling, "cmon, stop being such a fuckin' tease." but you paid no mind, she always got what she craved in the end. you were having a jolly old time making this simply agonizing.

you smiled against her skin, her spunky attitude being one of your favorite features of hers. so you shifted even further downward and decided you'd hook your hands under her thighs and push them up high—almost flush to her chest, putting her on full display for you. you saw the way she was breathing, her chest rising and falling with impatience, and noticed the stifled whimpers fighting their way out of her bitten lips.

you gently squeezed the supple flesh of her thighs, running your mouth along the inside and kissing to your heart's content—not one freckle left un-smooched. you moved inward, and stopped to suck—making sure to leave a small blooming purplish mark, as a lovely reminder for later. you savored her softness for a little while longer, then finally moved all the way in to shove your face in her dripping core, and pleasured her 'till she shook. ♡

decided i will put my taglist on here anyway...SAWRY CANT EVER DECIDE WHETHER TO OR NOT CUZ I DONT WANNA SPAM AND USUALLY ONLY DO FOR FR FICS IDFK tell me if im annoying: @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @ashaynep @flowrmoth @liddysflyer @fortune777 @claude999 @brunaedn @bunnitewsilly @mimasroom2

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Sacrifice of Isaac - Caravaggio / The Last Of Us Part II 

what i’m ordering