#ellie williams x black!fem reader

[blackgirlyearning]

"just for you"

Synopsis: Ellie wants to do your beautiful Afro-textured hair. 

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

Note 1: I’ve never played the Last of Us. Either game. But, I do know what it was inspired by and therefore, I want to say that I support Palestinians. Free Palestine/Falasteen. Keep protesting. Keep writing to representatives. Boycott anything that the creator of this game does. Once again, from the river to the sea Palestine will be free.

Note 2: This one goes out for my fellow Black people! Especially those of us who be searching for new fics under ‘ellie x black!reader”.

Warnings: some mentions of sex and joel being dead.

“I’m afraid you gon’ do me like one of them infected.” 

“I’m trying not to, but you keep moving.” Ellie goes to raise the wide-tooth comb to trace another part between your coily tresses. A few products sat next to her on the couch. Whipped shea butter and a mousse.

“I’m chillin’.” You smile to yourself as you feel the tooth split your hair in half. 

Earlier, when the Sun was painting your face just right, Ellie was sitting up beside you in bed. She was folded like an open card with her back parallel with the headboard. Perhaps she was folded for you, rather than solely finding a comfortable position to draw in. Along her raised thighs, her sketchbook laid split open - similar to how you were some nights. If you looked further down her legs, you would see that her knees were bruised from getting down for you. You, the Goddess on Earth.

That’s probably how you found yourself in this situation. Both of y’all were naked; the only censoring of your bodies being the grey duvet that laid over your bodies. 

Ellie’s diluted chlorophyll eyes shifted over to you once more. They widened in surprise when she found your brown eyes and a smile stretched over your two-toned lips. She turned her head away to hide the shy smile that ripened the color of her cheeks. Her freckles were now lost in a dusting of reddish-pink.

You rose up from your side of the bed. Today, it was on the right side - the one closest to the door. You didn’t remember how you ended up there, since Ellie had managed to suck everything outta you the night before. And yes, literally suck. That mouth was magical, man. 

“You gonna look at me, hotshot?” You chuckled with half-lidded eyes. The duvet had fallen down onto your lap, revealing your brown breasts, complete with darker nipples. The other woman dared not to look at you. And because she didn’t answer you, you took her journal with a soft touch, knowing damn well that book was basically her child. Well, besides JJ, of course.

A gasp escaped Ellie’s lips when she felt the loss of her journal. 

You looked up at her with widened eyes. “Sorry, I should’ve asked-”

She raised a hand for you to stop. “‘T’s fine,” She nodded over to the journal. “-go ahead.” 

You stared at her for a moment. She looked back at you. A small bulb of light swirled from your iris and fell into hers. A wordless confirmation.

So, you let your gaze fall down onto the pages. An etching of somebody with a carefully crafted afro with the smallest of curls squished against the pillow, penciled-in skin (a representation of darker skin), closed eyes, a round nose with a highlight on its end, and full two-toned lips with the upper one also penciled in. It was you.

The further down you examined the sketch, you noticed your hand with a tiny arrow a little bit away from your finger. ‘I wonder if we’d get married’. You wanted to peek at her for just a moment, but you decided to hold your gaze. 

In true Ellie fashion, of course, your boobs were squeezed together. Another note by them read ‘wowza!’. You laughed to yourself. 

You moved your eyes from the center of the page to the other fainter sketches that found themselves on it. There were four heads in each corner, each at different angles. The top left corner was facing away from you. Her cornrows danced down scalp. Tight enough to hold their form, but not enough to rip out your scalp. The one on the right corner got twists. She was smiling at you. You could find yourself in her. You knew you were her. The bottom left corner was you in bantu knots. A quarter-view of you with braided balls of your magic decorating your head. You couldn’t see your full face, but you could see your round nose, your lips … and a side-eye. Wow. In the final corner, a coily mo-hawk with braids on the side.

Finally, you tore your eyes away from her drawings and back up into the forest that was her eyes.

“You okay?” She rasped.

You blinked away your tears. “Yeah.” You gave her a close-lipped smile.

She placed a hand on the side of your face and pressed her lips on your left cheek. 

No, not the lower one, you freak.

“This better not be the Infected Line-up.” You say as you gyrate over to the bathroom door. Smooth Operator was playing and you couldn’t not dance to it. Ellie had your hand in hers to spin you around once. The other one found itself on your left hip, dancing with you until you got through the door.

You gasped when you saw yourself. 

“What?” Her eyes widened once again. “Did I do good?” Suddenly, she didn’t know what the fuck to do with her hands. Joel was probably laughing at her from wherever he was in the atmosphere.

You turned to smile at her. “You didn’t fuck up my edges.”

And here you are again with small cornrows. The braided heart on the side of your head faces her as you leave the bathroom. 

Today, a toothy smile replaced your usual close-lipped one.

If you had looked on the side of that page that day, you would’ve seen the page of products she had written down. Just for you.

[modedelagauze]

Lying is The Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

​​pairing: Ellie Williams x f!reader summary: Ellie finds out you do burlesque and fucks you in costume after the show. cw: nsfw, dom!Ellie, thigh riding, praise kink, cursing, strap, fingering (4.2k) Read the extended version on AO3 HERE

an: I've got serious p!atd brain rot right now so stream Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off to get the full vision~

unedited btw!

“Five minutes!” shouted a voice over many, somewhat distorted by the echo of clicking heels rapidly shuffling between the narrow corridors of the dressing rooms and storage closets sandwiched among one another downstairs. You took a moment to reapply a thick layer of the blood colored bullet in your fingers and puckering to place a kiss on the surface of a half boa covered mirror as a way of wishing good luck to yourself before the show. You were one of the only cabaret girls who actually sang at the club and the only girl to  have ever sang for Ellie Williams personally. At the beginning of the semester you’d often spend late afternoons alone and enclosed within the padded walls of the black box theater, on campus, practicing. You were blissfully unaware of the fact that there was someone else who was also using the space on occasion, probably for the better. It only was two weeks into the term that you’d stayed later than usual singing–ten minutes at most–and been disturbed by the nervous brunette carrying a guitar. To avoid drawing attention, Ellie had always entered the theater through its reliably unlocked back doors only to be gifted with the sound of your voice. Entranced by the melody, she decided to wait behind the curtains, standing just far enough for a view of your form without being noticed. It was only when you turned to take a swig of water that you became aware of the girl watching you. After that encounter she suggested that the two of you spend some time singing together, that you could learn a thing or two from each other. You ended up learning how magical her fingers could feel buried deep within that aching cunt of yours. With time, of course, she’d gone and destroyed what the two of you had built by indecisively bouncing back and forth between you and some girl back home. So, here you were ignoring her third call of the week and at the same time hoping to see her in passing just for one moment of spite.

On the stairs down from the dressing room, you practiced breathing exercises in preparation for the upcoming vocal stress. Girls called out wishes of support as you made your way down the long hall until their voices faded into the hushed whispers of patrons and the sharp clanging of glasses upon their wooden tables. It felt as though time had sped up tenfold how a wire was so quickly slid behind your ears and down your costume; a small flesh colored earpiece rushed into your right palm to be placed comfortably at your own will. Right at center stage was the band’s pianist, side facing the curtains, whilst the rest of the group were all tucked along the left side of the stage facing the audience. He passed along a supportive nod in your direction as you rushed into position; that being sat atop the far right side of his piano with an arched back and one thigh flush against the wood while the other was kicked up and bent.  

“Thirty seconds till curtains rise,” ushered one of the techies and thus began the pianist, a playful and upbeat tempo before joined by the bass then guitars. The crowd cheered, queueing everyone behind the curtains that the two dancers upon the stage beyond had begun dancing along to the music. Slowly the velvet draping began to reveal light, decorating everyone behind the curtains too in ribbons of dancing radiance. 

In synchronization with the drums having now kicked in and the curtains fully raised, you began in a teasing tone, “Is it still me that makes you sweat?”  Your hands navigated down your hair and to your breasts, stopping to cup them ever so slightly before tauntingly sliding a single bra strap down between the lines, “am I who you think about in bed when the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you’re sliding off her dress?” An o-shaped expression of faux-embarrassment graced your face for a moment before gliding off of the piano and maneuvering around it to wrap your arms around the pianist in an attempt to imitate the look of a neck kiss. The next line was one of mockery, “Think of what you did and how I hope to god she was worth it.” As the final words of the phrase escaped your lips, your eyes landed on Ellie sandwiched within the crowd along the center stage, earning a stutter only recognized by the pianist as his eyes quickly darted to you and back to his instrument of choice. “When the lights are dim–And your heart is racing as your fingers touch her skin.” The line was rushed in order to catch up with your stutter, though the pianist threw in an additional key to make up for it, smiling as he played. In one fluid motion the two dancers along stage, darted to your figure and tugged on either side at both arms. You sang with pure confidence, borderline arrogance “I’ve got more wit” as one dancer dropped your arm the other spun you into hers and ran a hand along your face, thumbing at your flush bottom lip “a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck than any girl you’d ever meet.” Your song choice for the night had been a very carefully curated one though you weren't expecting to see Ellie any time soon–especially at your place of work out of all locations–it felt so good to sing your emotions out and leave them on the stage, but seeing her just now had felt like the greatest fuck you that the universe could offer. Had she even known that you’d be here or was it all by pure coincidence? Regardless, you'd come to the conclusion that now was no better a time than ever to remind her of the mistake she’d made. The other dancer’s hands found their way to your waist, unraveling you from the original’s hold and into her own. Both of your hands landed in your hair, teasingly pulling at it leading her to imitate the ghost of an open-mouthed moan, “Sweetie you had me.”

The routine required you to pick a random guest in the audience to sing to and Ellie had just so managed to pick one of the best seats in the house. Navigation was really quite effortless as you made sure to spend a lingering moment here and there singing into the face of occasional patrons. Each strum of the bass was a stride forward before unabashedly ending up at Ellie's table. You managed to dance around the other people sitting there and right into her face without wasting a beat. You asked and received and here she was in all her glory, a bewildered look upon her face as if she hadn't expected for you to make such a commotion about her appearance. You knew under that carefree attitude that she loved to portray there was still that same nervous girl tucked away within. It was as if she’d planned to show up in order to provoke you and realized that now was too late to back out. Usually she had no issue confronting any issue at hand but the problem was that she hated the attention confrontation brought her. She wanted your attention after having not seen you in so long and was desperate enough to risk embarrassment for it, which said more than enough.

Her gaze brought out a degree of seduction in you that had been fighting to finally be on the prowl again, tantalizing and enough for the girl in front of you to practically taste you with her eyes. You could see her fingernails hopelessly digging into the arm rests of her chair, respecting  the club rules that patrons weren’t allowed to touch any of the performers unless they placed the hands of patrons upon their bodies themself. 

A wicked smile was unavoidable as your hands grew to extend themselves past your own body and onto hers, delicately tiptoeing down her shoulder blades, scuffling the tips of your freshly manicured nails down the sides of her biceps. How you knew she loved the scratches; the way you would often leave her skin tinged red the following morning after a scandalous night. Maintaining eye contact was the name of the game for the entire duration of your little escapade. Naturally you already had the girl by an inch or two, but with the added height of heels you were a steel tower of carnality that she wished to rip apart. If anything she liked that you were taller because It made watching you sink down onto her strap all the more enjoyable. Seemingly the length of your legs created an illusion of prolonged time settling down upon her crude nature and she could watch you ride all night long.

You were sure to drag your claws along her jeans, pressing just hard enough for her to feel it through the fabric as your hands retracted down to her knees and you dropped to a close legged crouch looking up at her, running your hands across your own skin and through your hair, suspending it all in the air long enough for her to get a good glance at the exposed skin of your neck and hickeys from someone who wasn’t her. Slowly you stood again, rocking your hips back and forth as and circled her seat. She hadn't taken much of a sip from her drink and so from behind you snatched the floating cherry stem from its alcohol soaked entrapment. When you could see her eyes again, you reached to wrap your left hand around her jaw, forcing it open as you allowed the cherry to hover over your outstretched tongue then flicking it inside of her mouth. Of course she caught on and separated the cherry from its stem and you dropped what was left of it back into the drink. “Oh no, you know it will always just be me.”

From there you made your way back to the stage and concluded the set. Exiting the stage, you caught the view of a faint glow upon Ellie's face as was seemingly typing away furiously upon that screen. When you finally got to the dressing room your phone had lit up with a flurry of messages from the distressed brunette. The first about how beautiful you were, next demanding you keep your costume on, followed by how much she wanted to ruin your pretty makeup and finally concluding it all by asking if you could just come outside for a moment. And of course she got the better of you. Frankly you were turned on by how desperate she looked and sounded. Maybe you’d punished her for long enough? Washington got cold fast and by early November snowfall was impending so you grabbed your fleece and made for the back door where-to nobody’s surprise-Ellie was parked almost directly in front of the door whilst leaning against the passenger door waiting for you. 

“It’s good to see you.” She spoke as she moved to open the door for you to get in.

With only inches between your lungs, you crossed your arms stopping dead in your tracks. “That’s not what you said to me Ellie. You asked me for a moment, not a damn joyride.”

The brunette rolled her eyes, now dropping her crossed arms to motion at the enormous building behind you. “Can you just listen to me for five minutes (†)?” she sighed loudly before continuing on in an almost pleading tone. “You just gave me a fucking amazing show and the place is obviously about to close. The least I can do is congratulate you on all this, because I haven't heard a lick from you in the last two weeks and suddenly you've become a damn good showgirl.”

Avoiding the situation, you sniffled at the bitter cold before gliding inside of her leather interior. “I’m freezing.”

She was quick to slam the door shut, mumbling something about you irritating her as she made her way back around to the driver’s side. Humming quietly, the speakers inside said what she refused to say aloud, “Why don't you show me a little bit of spine you’ve been saving for his mattress. I only want your sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me.” And of course you would've done just that, but it was only fair that you made the process difficult. Too many times had you easily given into her apologies within hours. Truthfully you missed her and the way she fucked you, but don’t get it twisted, it wasn’t that Abby hadn’t been easily laying you to rest when you couldn't see Ellie and vice versa, but why have only one pretty girl in your life when you could have two of them? It was pure and utter unapologetic greed.

As she had previously requested, you kept the same lingerie from earlier on; a pair of fishnet tights, low rising short shorts decorated by black sequins with a matching bustier so low cut that she was surprised it had not warranted one nip slip throughout the entire show. A plethora of golden cuffs spanned either of your biceps while a frilled garter belt adorned your left thigh and your hair, she couldn't even begin to speak on those perfect ringlets and how they framed your face, cascading down your shoulders into ink blotted waterfalls. The charm decorated braids placed sporadically around your head were always the cherry on top of it all because she loved how she could always hear you coming before she actually saw you; waiting like a dog with perked ears for a treat. 

After her door was closed and locked you turned to face the girl, now ready to lay bare whatever needed to be said and done. “Well?” You taunted, sliding your feet from their heeled prisons and bringing your legs up to your chest to sit comfortably.

Ellie adjusted the gear before she moved to reach behind the head of your seat , reversing out of the parking lot. Her eyes darted over to you then back on the road, laughing dryly as she responded. “Please don’t play stupid with me (†). We both know why you’re in my car.” 

You opened your mouth to speak then decided against it, staring out of the window with crossed arms when you responded. “How did you even find out where I work at Ellie?”

She laughed before placing a hand on your thigh, playfulling squeezing the tender tissue. “I knew that I only had to look for the most glamorous place around. Besides, Jessie really doesn’t like conflict.”

“And who the fuck are you, going around asking my friends about me Ellie?”

“He’s my friend too. I don’t understand why you have to be so damn difficult when you’re sitting barefoot in my car. I can’t think of any other reason you’d be undressing yourself already.” You’d been so busy pretending to be mad at her that you hadn’t realized that the car had just come to a stop in an empty parking lot, with only the faint illumination of a nearby lamppost to reveal the silhouette of her face in a warm wash of light.

Finally you decided to face her, “Maybe I’ve decided to change things up. I like hearing you whine, Ellie.” her gaze softened, eyebrows raised as a smirk played at the corner of her mouth fighting to reveal itself. 

Ellie reoriented herself to lean on the center console, partially to close the space between the two of you and also to allow her eyes finally a better view, mentally undressing your figure in the process. “You’re so demanding (†).”

You leaned in, whispering a final retort before closing the gap. “I get off to being worshiped by you, Ellie.” 

You could feel the girl smiling into the kiss as her fingers entrenched your curls, holding them tightly in a delicate cluster. After the two of you finally pulled apart a string of saliva had remained connecting you both until you’d moved far enough to break the thin bond. Her eyes were darker now, thinking of the ways she could mold you into whatever she wanted in this car. “Get in the backseat,” she demanded breathlessly. The girl then increased the volume of her music before she joined you back there, the next track being ‘Is It Really You’ from Loathe.

The two of you fought like swordsmen to control the encounter, Ellie forcing you into the cold glass of the window when she was the one kissing you and then switching to Ellie restrained with her head to the leather when you were the one kissing her. You sat straddling her lap, one leg folded up along her hip and the other fallen between the leg space separating the front and back seats. Your fingers threaded through her hair as an arm moved to gently squeeze your throat, locking you in place as the other reached around, palming your ass for a couple seconds before she snuck a finger around the ribbon holding your bustier together, tugging at the material. “So fuckin pretty,” she gasped between the dancing of your tongues. “Put your arms up.” You did as told with a careless disregard for the long process of getting that thing back on after all of this was over. You just wanted her all over you now. 

Ellie was a mess as she watched the reveal of your breast falling free from the bustier, instantly taking a taunt bud into her mouth and tweaking the other in her fingers. You moaned at the shockwaves it sent echoing down your body straight to your pussy, but there were no breaks to this ride. 

You didn’t even realize her fingers had already peeled back the crotch of your shorts when the sound of your fishnets ripping under her grasp brought you back down to reality. The air was cold against your clothed, sticky cunt as it begged for room to breathe. Her fingers began massaging small circles onto the inflamed pearl, already wet enough for it to stick to your panties. “All this dancing around the fuckin’ questions I ask you,” she laughed over your hushed moans before stopping to slap your desperate pussy. “Tryna pretend you didn't want this, but you’re so fucking wet already (†).” 

You’d forgotten who you were under her hold. Somehow it had become so embarrassing to be as bratty as you were, deliberately pissing her off in order to earn a good fucking, sitting there with your eyes screwed up and a hand over your mouth, silencing the pornographic noises attempting to escape your throat over mere dry humping. “Come back to me baby; You don't get to run away.” she teased, resulting in an aggressive hickey pressed into the skin above your nipple. Another electrifying shock when she bit down and in that same moment sneaking her digits into your panties to now perform an inhumane assault on your pink parts. “I wanna hear you.” The vulgar brunette hummed.

“How many times did she make you cum?”

Your eyes threatened to shut closed again, nearing the verge of pleasure filled tears sliding down your perfectly powdered cheeks, “What baby?”

“Abby.” At this point she was starting to sound annoyed, picking up the pace.

Out squealed a voice that you hadn't known could even come from within, “I don't know.”

“Then we should start counting how many I can put you through.”

Just as you could see the horizon of your orgasm approaching she retracted her fingers from the sopping canal, earning an exasperated whine on your end. She took your jaw into her left hand, turning your face away from her as she drug her tongue down your skin, biting at it rougher than she normally was-like there was something to be proven. “You want me to fuck you real bad huh?” She gloated, hooking a finger around the seat of your undies and running her digits along your slit, collecting more than enough slick for it to run down her fingers and onto her palm “Yeah?” She continued, pushing two fingers into your hole without warning. 

“Please,” was all that you could muster, grinding your hips onto her fingers for any sort of additional pressure. Almost there. Like clockwork she caught onto what you were attempting and stopped you dead in your tracks with her fingers having gone limp and the other hand holding your hips in place. 

“Now, you know better than that.” She spoke imitating faux-empathy, “especially when we’re like this with each other.” Because normally after arguing the two of you fucked it out and at some point during the transaction someone apologized resulting in an orgasm for the other but for now this was world’s nastiest game of chicken. In passing moments, she began again, fingers curving directly into that spot that made you see stars in the night, a hand placed on your hips rocking them back and forth. “C’mon baby, fuck yourself for me.” And you damn sure rode her like it was nothing, eyebrows knit together as you focused your entire being on getting off. It didn't even take a whole minute for you to get there, and Ellie grinned at her handy work, but this was only the beginning. “One. That’s a good girl.” Your legs shook in reaction to her aggression and you attempted to stop her fingers from continuing on, wrapping your own around her steady wrist.

“Move your hands (†).” She ordered as your eyes began to water from the overstimulation.

“I can’t.” You pleaded in broken whimpers.

All she could do was laugh at you again, offering encouragement as if this was nothing to her. “You will. I need to hear that shit real loud on my dick.” Those words alone were enough to send you through another fiery orgasm. You swore your moans were loud enough to be heard beyond the entrapment of this car and Ellie liked pushing herself to see just how loud she could get you. “Two. It was that easy.”

Stiff fabric was good for hiding things just as she had until now, exposing the strap on that you had assumed to have been her phone in her pocket earlier. Ellie took you into her arms, rearranging the two of you where she was now the one on top and your head resting against the door’s storage compartment. “You ready baby?” she enquired, taking a minute to kiss your cheeks. You nodded, cunt throbbing for more as she watched it produce more of that thick hot arousal. 

“You got the prettiest pussy in the world, (†).” She began, taking the plastic dick into her hand and tracing your slit, bewitched by the beautiful glass shine of your cum dripping down onto the leather seat as if an antiquated romantic painting. In that moment the guilt came flowing down her conscious for everything. Just wanted to make up for it by making you feel good. “Fuck, I can’t wait,” the girl whined, slowly pushing herself into you, feeling her own wetness completely entrenching her boxers and making its way for her thighs. The way your hair laid along the car interior, fanning out around you like a headdress made her melt, stopping to kiss you again before she began stroking slowly, making sure to allow you time to adjust to the feeling of fullness. 

“More,” You pleaded, beginning the process of catching her rhythm in your hips. 

“Yeah?” She answered, taking your thighs into her hands and sliding them over her shoulders, thrusting deeper for a couple of moments. “Feel good?” You struggled to formulate a coherent response and decided on simply nodding between moans. Ellie took this as a sign to make up for lost time, fucking into you with such force you were sure she could feel it on her own end, getting closer to finally cumming. 

“Like that! Just like that!” ripped a scream from your lungs, satisfied with her rhythm having at last caught onto matching with her. She thought you were too fucking gorgeous of a girl that just looking at you had her loosing it, just seeing your expressions and the way your tits bounced so beautifully, revealing the stretch marks on their underside that she so loved to trace when the two of you laid in bed together; a live erotic portrait unable to be topped by even the masters themselves. Your arms locked around Ellie’s neck, taking her hostage in your grasp and moaning feverishly into the girl’s ears. Before one could get past your lips another would come, choking you on your own pleasure. “So fuckin good El’s.” If she was doing everything right then you wouldn’t have been able to speak, so she slipped an arm between your stomach and hers, pressing your abdomen down  while the other arm kept you locked in place for her to use and abuse. You yelped, surprised by the added pressure, now feeling her deeper than before. Your hands loosed around her neck, digging into her back possibly even drawing blood.

“Take it, pretty girl.” she cooed, wanting everyone on the street to know her name and how good she made you feel. Didn’t matter how late into the night it was. It wasn't long until you came unraveled under her, your thighs clenching in anticipation for the coming waves of your climax. “Atta girl, I got you,” she whispered, continuing her dangerous pounding. A banshee would’ve been disturbed by the sound of you two. Of course Ellie always had to get the last laugh. “Three,” she sighed, wiping away the beads of sweat that had formed on her clammy forehead, bits of her fringe stuck adhered to the skin. "Forgive me?"

Would you guys be interesting in full length fic? I had lot of fun writing this. :p

Original Release: 11/7/24 Edit: 11/8/24

[anchoeritic]

spider!ellie trying to keep blackcat!reader quiet on a mission. her head digging in between the depths of your thighs while her palm presses harder against your lips. you couldn’t help but let out moans against her hand but lucky for you, not a single sound escaped, only your hot breath against the fabric of her suit. if it wasn’t for her, your shared mission would’ve failed completely already.

“mm— stay quiet. let me have a taste,” her tongue worked wonders against your bundle of nerves, licking and swirling around your most sensitive spot. lips occasionally sucking on it too, her teeth barely grazing against your flesh. “wouldn’t want them to hear you, do you kitty?” you swore you could feel her smirk against your folds, grinning as she watched your back arch off the surface.

your hands pushed her head deeper between your thighs. it was a shame that her mask was only lifted up ‘til her mouth. “m—mm..” it was kinda attractive too, you can’t say no to her lips. you can only imagine what she looked like under that mask. but you don’t have to imagine what her tongue does to you, especially in a dark back alley. “shhh.. quiet now, kitty.”

[eccentricallygothic]

Strict Mommy!Abby Anderson | Sadistic Miss!Ellie Williams | Naive Little!You. 

Warning(s): Heavy d/s dynamics, mommy kink, miss kink, slapping, rough stuff, sadism, praise kink, use of strap ons, cunnilingus, allusions to anilingus, ass play, you are a slut sandwich, dacryphilia, humiliation, degradation, power imbalance, nipple play, infantilization, hair pulling, spit play, puppy kink, allusions to face sitting, they're both possessive and competitive over you, pure brain rot because I do and write stupid shit when I am in a real mood. Minors do not interact. 

Yes, Abby and Ellie hate each other and for good reason. 

But if they were to make a truce? What– no, who would be the common interest?

Why, sweet little too dumb to even breathe by herself little you, of course.

Your legs that are covered in glittery pink stockings dangle from the sides of Abby's muscular thighs as your knees bob up and down each time she jostles your form upwards by the breathtaking push of her pelvis. 

A sob curls in your throat from how one of her favorite strap ons hit you deep in your sensitive spot but before it can make its way past your lips, the sound dies down because of how your mouth stretches around Ellie's cunt. 

Your fucked out mind feels as though it is melting out of your ears and eyes in the form of heat and tears that stream down your cheeks. You choke and gurgle on Ellie's juices while your tongue obediently laps at the hot, cherry red stripe of flesh between her pretty milky white petals, nose flared to the max as you try to breathe through them as much as possible. 

Abby's hot lips come to hover next to your ear, one hand tightly holding your wrists behind your back and the other toying with your much sensitive and sore nipples that are in their tender state due to the women's cruel sucking and biting at them.

“Fuck yeah, pretty girl, just like that” Abby is the softer one of the pair, although it is more of a lesser of two evils situation if you are being honest. “Your sweet little pussy is taking Mommy's cock so well” if it weren't for Ellie holding you in place by the hair on the top of your head with her cunt further nailing you all the way down to Abby's balls, the force of the blonde woman's thrusts would have required her holding you by the waist so you wouldn't fall off her cock. “Such a good babygirl for your Mommy, aren't you?”

Your pussy is so wet and stretched around the strap on that you whimper into Ellie's opening as your tongue fights to make an opening for itself, but the strain that the girth of Mommy's cock is putting on the band of your hole only adds to the heat in your clit. Your hips are pulled taut against one another with strings of the orgasm that steadily builds in the pits of your abdomen. It will be the first of many. 

“Dirty fuckin' slut” Ellie rasps when she pulls you off her pussy with a jerk. Your mouth falls open and worked up tongue hangs past your lips like that of a dog. “Crying like a stupid little baby but fucking herself silly on Mommy's cock and slurpin' up my cunt like a bitch in heat” her sadistic fingers cracked across your face and your face dangled to the side, flush cheeks smeared in her juices. “Just so innocent, aren't you?” You cry out as Abby twists your nipple between her fingers while her hips pounds your pussy harder and harder. “You can put up the act for others all you want, but I know what you are” you flinch when she spits on your face, the blob landing on the crease between your nose and under eye. Ellie leans down a little to whisper her words, your racing heart leaping up in anticipation as your back arches from how Abby feels for your pussy with her free hand to rub it. ���A filthy little doggy slut” another slap lands on your face and though you cry out, your pussy only clenches harder around the textured girth of Abby's cock. “That's all you are.” They never say it out loud anymore. The last time they had done so had ended up in a fight. So now they choose to claim their ownership over you in less verbal and more physical ways.

It is always a competition between the two of them.

And you're both the playdough and the trophy. 

“Aw, look at this pretty little cry baby” Abby tries to divert you toward herself by wrapping her fingers around your throat for grip. “Such a sensitive little thing for Mommy” when she tries to push you further back against herself, Ellie's dark eyes flash with anger and your scalp burns with how she pulls you closer to herself. 

“Where do you think you're going?” Ellie doesn’t look at Abby and nor does she acknowledge the older female. Instead, all of her ire and reproach gets directed towards you; their ragdoll. “No, you dirty little cum dump, I am not done with you just yet” though Abby says nothing, she growls and increases the force of her thrusts -if it's even possible-, her warm lips attacking your neck to suck new marks into your delicate skin. “Here, take it!” Ellie slaps your tits this time, clapping them together before she turns and then reaches behind her to coil your hair around her scarred fingers in such a way that both sides of your head are in her grip. “You like it, don't you, you dirty little pup?” She starts to roll her hips in rapid succession, as a result of which your lips and face bury in her ass cheeks and your head swishes from side to side from the facial her ass is giving you. 

Ellie loves to sit on your face.

And you sit on Abby's.

“Such a brave little girl for us, aren't you honey?” Abby's reassuring words are the bridge that you need along with Ellie's rough handling. You can't take any one of the two extremes without the balance of the other. It simply isn't your preference. 

Your Miss and Mommy aren't wrong, you are a dirty little slut.

“Stop whining and take it like a good pup” Ellie grunts as she pushes her ass against you until your face has fully tucked into it, your lungs scream for air while your head spins from how Abby is abusing your g-spot with her fat cock. 

Sticking out your tongue against Ellie’s holes, you go to work just how your Mommy and Miss have taught you.

[countdykulaa]

﹟ ⠀ ⠀ 𝟎𝟎𝟏 ⠀ . ⠀ ⠀CUP OF COFFEE⠀ ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ ❪ ⠀ anxious, overly critical! reader x college! ellie ⠀ ❫

⧽ ── college! ellie who fucks you whenever you're feeling stressed out and vulnerable after a lousy day cause she knows how in your head you get after making one tiny mistake. realization struck too late, and the mistake loomed large, leaving you in a whirlwind of regret. despite comforting words from everyone around you, including your supportive girlfriend, the weight of self-doubt crushes your spirit, making you feel like the ineptest person ever. instead of reassuring you with words you'll probably ignore so you can wallow in self-pity, she'll make sure to kiss up and down your neck, hands gently caressing your frame like you were the most delicate thing created.

your body will readily accept the onslaught of affections, desperate for anything to take your mind off of your racing thoughts. she'll lay you down on the couch, and slowly peel your top off your frame while you whine and moan for her to hurry up. your impatience has little effect on her as she pulls off your pants before moving to pull off her own. if you weren't in sucha dreary mood you would've paid the view more attention. she'll crawl on top of you before finding a place inches above your clit. your fingers instinctively finding her hips in hopes of hurrying this along only for her to grab your hands and pin them down on the couch. each time you tug at her grip, it tightens. never enough to hurt you, but enough to remind you of her hidden strength.

wetness pools between your legs, anticipation building between you until she finally...finally moves. her hips grind down and you finally feel the friction you've been longing for. your first thought is to moan, your own hips bucking at her rhythm. you're a victim to her pace, doing nothing more than taking any kind of pleasure she willingly gives you. your eyes droop, a pleasure buzzing through your body despite the heaviness in your chest. a part of you will demand more. faster. harder. almost akin to a punishment and she'll refuse you. each and every time until all the fight leaves your form.

"y/n" she'll whisper, emerald, green eyes gazing down at you with a gentleness that'll set your skin ablaze as her clit rubs against your own.

"yeah baby?" you gasp out , head lolled to the side in pleasure.

"you're so great."

you'll feel yourself shatter into a million fragments only to meticulously be resembled piece by piece with each soft-spoken word she utters.

PLUTOS WORLD: i have no idea why i can never use present tense whenever i use second pov. it feels like slam poetry rn sj. anyway had a bad day so

TAGLIST: @r3starttt @cyb3rdino @abyssgf @savethegoddamturtles

[s-4pphics]

soul ties. part I (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: a product of brokenness. WORD COUNT: 13.4K WARNINGS: ellie’s a painter/art dealer, heavy angst[oc is suicidal and has dissociative episodes + abusive parents/SEXUAL ABUSE(nothing explicitly written but aluded to) + patriarchy/men being predatory/traditionalist households + mentions of cheating + alcoholism + disordered eating/self-harm(cuticle picking) + thoughts of murder + mommy issues/daddy issues + parental grief + homophobia + more patriarchy but with dykes + unhealthy relationships with sex(coping) + brief mention of masturbation + sexual tension + making out + fondling + slapping + DUBCON + just matching freaks to avoid trauma], miscommunication, just 2 socially inept crash outs lol  A/N: hellloo lol. fixed plot bc im venting… s been a very rough few months. i was convinced i lost my very acute skill so uhhh consider this a test. uhh what else… idk when i’ll be back bc im now a piano player #NEWFOUNDESCAPISM LOL.  suggestion: this technically could b read alone but if u care ab context read this first. then this. that is all LOL byeee :p hi taggies we back: @dyk3ang3l @acidblum @mellifluousgirll @elliesatchel @callmewhenyoukan @natgf123 @elliesstella @spaceforescape @floridaopal @lonelyfooryouonly @ellies-converse @amiorca @darkerstarsstuff

fuck the bitch that made this game.  dont buy his shit.

aid links from my inbox: one, two, three, four

What to do, what to do… 

Ellie is a wreck. An agitated, craving, mess. 

What to do… Love your wife, fuck the daylights out of your wife, kill your wife before she kills you… What to do… 

It can’t be that hard to hide a body. Is it still murder if it’s self-defense? Ellie’s sure the next bath you run for her will either be filled with bleach or result in her being forced underwater until she’s lifeless. There are lots of people willing to get their hands dirty for her if that’s the case. Not a trace of you or her would be left and she’d finally be able to escape with only the clothes on her back. The weightlessness in her pockets wouldn’t move her in any way. Nothing compares to freedom. What a suffocating life she lives. 

The guest room mattress becomes less and less plush every time she lays in it. The sheets are itchier and cold and she’s stuck pondering with each swirl of the ceiling fan, wet hair wrapped in a bath towel; restless, fidgety, and honey-like ache in the pit of her stomach, mind warped with lecherous thoughts of her wife that she despises but not as much, her supposed life partner and fuck, how did you two get here…

Stuck with a tension so thick it permeates your home; if you’d even call it that. You’re both successfully trapped between your own walls; Elegant windows take the place of rusted, metal bars that confine you from the life you both dreamed of before all this; one soft and doting and colorful, one where your light isn’t dulled. 

Why does she feel so guilty, suddenly? You’re not lovers, and neither in love, so why does her chest ache with every glance she steals when you’re unassuming? The pain that’s always etched on your face, and if not, in your eyes — fills her with regret. She would abandon you for days — weeks at a time, not at all concerned about what you might be experiencing to rid herself of shame. And to think that you were merely a younger version of your mother; villainous and cruel and greedy when… when you’ve barely spoken. She finds herself, unfortunately, reminiscing on how bushy-tailed you were after marriage. So eager to please and prick her mind and annoyingly mechanical. You cooked at the same time everyday. Cleaned, did both your laundry, sunbathed, swam in your pool. She hated how rehearsed your lifestyle was; it reminds her of the worst parts of her childhood. When her mother was alive. So, Ellie chose to step out on you the second you took her last name; ravaged other women, released her anger and desires on strangers when she should’ve had you beneath, above, on your knees for her. Where has that craving to harm you gone? For months, she’s ached for your suffering to mirror hers, but now… What’s happening to her? What’s happened to you? 

Ellie believes you’ve lost it, and somehow she’s found herself chasing that unforeseen part of you; unfiltered and angry and wild. This manufactured doll your mother molded you into is shattering at the core and Ellie craves to see more of you. Guilty. As hurt as you were, that night was the most alive she’s seen you be. You shouted and cried and tore at the seams, desperate for someone to hear you, and Ellie did. Loud and clear. She saw you for what you are. Mangled from the inside out, entirely hopeless. Just like she is. An unspeakable link that binds the two of you.

Soul ties. 

She shook and pleaded for you to enter the bathroom and see her battered against the shower wall with a hand between her legs and your name dripping from her lips, but the knob never twisted. Her orgasms were unsatisfactory, and she accepted with irritation that it was because you weren’t there. She ignored the throbbing between her legs and vacated the bathroom. Ellie, with legs that trembled, found you wrapped in satin and snoring. They sounded like whistles. 

She stood for a while, just watching you twitch and wiggle in your rest, eyes glazing to the space beside you that could easily fit another body. The sheets are already warm from where you lay. The two of you have never slept in the same room, let alone bed. 

Her feet carried her out. Silently left the room with an unfamiliar ache in her chest. 

Her mind made an enemy out of you because that’s what you are. When she thought her life couldn’t get any worse, you appeared and destroyed everything in her path. Left her world in ruins. Disrupted her pattern. You’re an enemy and deserve to hurt. 

Aren’t you? Don’t you? 

Everything is unclear. Ellie hasn’t been this conflicted since she was 15. She wishes she could sleep forever so she wouldn’t be forced to think. 

If she had any sense left, she would paint her agony away. In the past, her mind would shut down with every splash of color on a canvas to compensate for the darkness that conjured in her mind. She refrains from that now, though. She’s horny; scared she’ll start imagining what your pussy looks like and sketch it all over the bedroom walls. That’d be too much; a boundary that will remain untouched.

But her brain knows she’s not a good person; she can’t help but imagine how gorgeous your pussy is because you are and she’s known that since the beginning, the second she saw you drenched in white. Drenched in sorrow. 

She clutches your wedding band in her palm. 

What to do… what to do… 

Birds are artists. 

They never fail to sing every morning; sonnets aimed to awaken life as sun rays spill from behind mountains. You've always appreciated their tunes whenever you were pulled from a hollow rest, no longer surrounded by darkness. 

Maybe it was the routine your mother set for you from young. You were 9 when she first coddled your drowsiness as she shook you awake at five in the morning; the early bird catches the worm, a saying you naively assumed as preparation for the day, for your homeschooling. An energy booster, possibly. Motivation. Something to get you through. 

How stupid could a child be? 

You were 12 when your cycle started. You were 12 when you realized that your mother never envisioned actual birds and worms like you had. Your mother has games she plays and she cheats. She’s had you on a leash for the past decade; the scars around your neck are forever a reminder of the hell you’ve endured under her hand. It took no effort on her part to be uncaring of your suffering, and somehow that aches more than anything else. 

Even more than the existence of him. A demon walking.

Animals aren’t like your family. Birds aren’t. The minute specks of sunlight begin, their job starts, and they complete it happily without compensation or praise or the slightest acknowledgment. Everyone wakes, and they fly to anywhere to wake the next. 

But wealth is dirty. Wealth makes people dirty. They swindler and lie and experience life with a vacancy that’ll never be filled with anything but greed. Your mother trained you for years to accept whatever was given as long as you were taken care of. Play your part, she’d say. It took you years to learn her strategy — and unlearn yourself — but you’re here. Married. Successful by association. Rich. Unhappy. Unloved. 

Birds guided you. They never shy from their duty, and you hadn’t either… 

But you’re human. You crack and cry and scream and you hate. You despise so strongly that you lash out and everything in your path becomes victimized. Sometimes it gets to a point where you crave blood. You want to drown in it, drink it until you’re sick. Your soul is dead. Everyones’ should die with yours. 

You don’t know who should go first. Your mother, your stepfather, or your wife. 

You want to swallow Ellie whole—

“Good morning.” 

You’ve never seen Ellie not dolled up. She clearly just awakened with her wrinkled MILFS ONLY shirt and sporadic hair. Timidity doesn’t suit Ellie. You're so used to seeing her exasperated. Her weary eyes don’t meet yours. You should tell her your plans to adopt a hummingbird. Or maybe you shouldn’t. She might laugh at you.

“Hello.” 

“… Hi.” She seems like she wants to say something. You sip your coffee. 

“My dad called.” 

You hum around the rim of your mug. “Woke you up?” 

She merely shrugs. “I uh… did anyone tell you about tomorrow?” 

“Of course not.” 

You don’t expect Ellie to flinch at your tone. You weren’t that sharp, were you?

You might’ve been because she slows her speech. Like she’s approaching a wounded animal, “Dad’s hosting a dinner. Corporate bullshit but we have to go.” 

“Why.” 

She squints at you. “Why what.” 

“Why do we have to go.” Your mug lands on the table harder than expected. 

“To make mommy and daddy look good.” She sneers while approaching her seat, “Did you forget?” 

“I just thought they wouldn’t want two dykes contaminating their spaces anymore.” 

Ellie snorts. “They don’t. Companies do. Gets their cocks hard. Two gay daughters, how progressive!” She mocks and plops on the chair directly across from you, wiping at her eyes. Your throat dries when you notice her wedding band. She hardly ever wears it. You don’t know where you left yours. Since when does she care to wear it? “They’ll do anything they can to get on their good side. They’re… merging organizations or whatever the fuck he said.” 

She swallows. Shrugs uncaringly, “We going?” Her eyes watch your hands squeeze your mug. 

“Are we.” 

She regards your cup with caution. Does she think you’ll throw it? The thought nearly makes you laugh. 

“Yes.” She answers. 

“Okay.” 

Your wife finally looks up and stands, nose upturned, “Okay? That’s all you got?” 

“Yes. Okay.” You sip silently. Your foot taps on hardwood. 

“Excited to see your family? You like ‘em now?” 

Excited is laughable. 

“No, I don’t.” 

The sudden calamity from your wife confuses you. She tugs at the strands that flop on her head in agitation. They look soft as they bounce with her pacing. You’ll never feel them. Or you might later. Who knows with her. Who knows with you. 

Ellie’s still talking. Her arms flail like she’s annoyed by you. You’re not sure why. You’re following. You’re allowing her to guide. To control. That’s the entire point of this. That’s why you’re going to dinner with her. She told you to go and that’s it. 

Play your part play your part play yo—

You don’t remember much of anything; the past, the present, but you recall what Ellie sounds like when she’s angry, whether it’s at you, her father, the woman her father is fucking or married to or whatever. If you’d listen, you’ll discover what ticked her off, but your ears ring too loud. Much louder than her screaming. 

You sip your coffee silently. Ellie leaves you at the dining table with a slam of a door. 

You think it’s the first floor’s guest room. 

The sun sets. Ellie can’t remember the last time she’s been home this long. 

She hates the weekends. The gallery is never open and she can’t drown herself in deals. She hates being home when you are. Why the fuck are you always here? You don’t have friends, a job, a life outside of this goddamn house? There’s a sinking in her stomach at the thought of your isolation, but she ignores it. Tries to ignore it.

… Can’t really ignore it. How pestering. You’re a pest. 

She knows nothing about you, only bits of your past expressed through photographs at your mother’s or outbursts in your bedroom. Your stepfather is fucking creepy and your mother’s glare is killer, but that’s about it. Still, she doesn’t think she can hate your parents more than you. 

You’re so fucking weird. Just like them. Unforgiving and unchaste one day then apathetic the next. How the fuck can one communicate with a person like that? 

That feeling in her chest again. Sharp and annoying. Try try try, it says. Begs from her. 

Try and do what? Do fucking what—

It took Ellie 3 seconds to unlock the guest room door and fly down the stairs when a crash rings from the first floor. Glass clatters and you sound in pain and oh fuck did someone break in

There’s red all over the kitchen floor but it’s not blood it’s red wine. Red wine red wine it’s not blood— 

You’re on the kitchen floor surrounded by green shards and dressed so pretty. Hair coiled and free and your face is done up and you’re wearing flowers. There’s flowers all over and your skin shines and why do you have heels on like a play doll?

Ellie palms at the scattered racing of her heart. Everything’s fine, her brain blares, She tripped, that’s it. Clears her throat. Rustles her hair to appear normal. 

She’s not dead. 

“… You good?” 

An unsteady hand rises to throw her a thumbs up. Your body wobbles when you attempt to stand. Ellie ushers to the counter to slide on her slippers, tells you to stop when your palm nearly plants on a shard. 

“Move back before you hurt yourself.” Ellie takes a quick lap around the kitchen for the broom and dustpan. Finds you just as quickly so you don’t accidentally slice an artery. 

Your lashes flutter and her heart follows suit, taking in the mess. “I think I fucked up.” You croak.

Hearing you curse is always odd. She huffs, “It’s fine. Can you stand?” 

Your head shakes and your bottom lip juts. “My… my shoes…”

You slowly plop onto your bottom and rest your back against the dishwasher. You struggle to grip your buckles to pull and slide the strap and Ellie remembers why she hates heels. She sweeps the glass away from you and realizes she should’ve mopped first because the bristles are soaked and streaking the clean parts of the crystal porcelain. When was the last time she cleaned? The maids always do. Sometimes you help. 

You look stunned when Ellie moves to squat in front of you. Jumps back when she adjusts your ankle. 

Her palms hang in surrender, “I’m gonna help you. Relax. Do your knees hurt?” 

You landed right on them. They should. You don’t disarm, eyes guarded and body locked tight, but you shrug. It’s good enough for Ellie. 

She unravels the buckles around both your ankles and tosses them next to you and you just watch. Ellie’s glances are quick and flitting, but she follows the traces of her hands; the sharp inhales whenever her fingers brush against the skin of your leg. You’re not as close as you were last night but she can smell you. Her chest is throbbing. You look like you’re about to cry but you’re drunk. It’s meaningless. Drunk people cry. 

Try try try try 

“Can you stand now?” She croaks. 

It takes a second for you to register her inquiry, but you shrug, and she sighs. When Ellie stands, both her hands extend out to you, but you don’t accept them; She gets jittery under your scrutinizing gaze after nearly a minute passes. Her throat dries and her face burns when you brush her hands away; standing on your own is an unstable journey, but you do, back against the counter to stabilize yourself. You look ill. Your brain must be jumbled. 

“Can you get upstairs on your own?” 

“You talk a fucking lot. Shut up.”  

The corner of Ellie’s mouth rises, but she says nothing. Gives you space to move. 

You take one step, then two more, then your eyes shut and your throat jumps. Uh oh.

“Oh shit, come—“

Ellie guides you to the garbage can near the front of the counter, away from the glass, and you dry heave. Liquid splatters inside the can and Ellie hates this so fucking much. The sounds are enough to make her own stomach lurch. It’s been a while since she’s been around someone this drunk. 

But she holds your waist so you don’t faceplant into your own vomit. 

“Get it out,” She hums with a grimace, “You’re fine.” An I gotcha almost rolls off her tongue but she catches it. She glides a comforting hand over your curved spine because you’re drunk and you won’t remember such gestures in the morning. She prefers it that way. 

You’re not gagging anymore so Ellie removes herself from you. Until she hears a whimper. And a sob so quiet she assumes you’re trying to mask it. Drunk people cry; she’s seen it countless times. Why does that seering feeling spark in her chest for what felt like the billionth time today? Fucking try, for fucks sake! 

“Let’s… let’s get you—“

“I wish I was dead.” 

Your prayer is hollow. Not even sad despite your tears. So, so empty. Ellie’s seen this before, experienced that nothingness countless times, but despite it all, she never learned how to console. Hell, she barely knows how to self-soothe without falling victim to her dark temptations. Even her paint brushes can’t eliminate the constant ache she feels. She just watches the tremble of your shoulders from behind. 

“I really don’t wanna go tomorrow.” You whisper. 

Ellie sighs. There’s no other choice. You know the stakes; follow your families’ commands or lose everything at the drop of a hat. They’ll leave you both on the streets to rot with no remorse if they please, replace the two of you with two normal children. Het children that won’t deviate. You’re both on thin ice as it is. Mainly because of Ellie. She can’t seem to keep herself out of trouble.

“I…” 

I’ll be with you the entire time. I don’t like being around those cunts either. 

“It’ll go by quickly.” She settles. 

“I hate when p-people look at me.” 

“Me too.” 

“I wish my family loved me.” 

Ellie’s softer now. Only slightly. 

“Yeah…” 

A tug in her ribcage. Try. Please, try. 

“Me too.” 

The pounding beneath your skull wakes you quicker than the birds. You shove your face in the pillow you rest on. 

The devil tells you to check the time so you do. The bedside clock says noon, meaning a new day, meaning it’s Saturday meaning you’ll die. Maybe not physically but mentally. You’re so drained and you’ve barely opened your eyes; the idea of leaving bed alone is enough to exhaust you. Your wrists and legs ache like fucking hell on top of that. 

You make fists with both hands. Repeatedly clench and unclench. The weight is different on your wedding finger. Heavier. You haven’t seen your ring since yesterday… or a few days ago — you’re not really sure. You must’ve found it in your drunken stupor. Just when you hoped to never see it again. 

The universe will always remind you who you are. 

If you stand you’ll vomit but your phone is ringing from the drawer you stuck it in weeks ago. How is it not dead? You know your mom’s calling. You hate that she is… 

The ringing stops and you thank the heavens. 

You curse them when it starts up again. 

The drawer slides open with reluctance. The ringing sounds 20 times louder. You retrieve your device blindly and your throat snaps shut when you speak. 

“You rang.” 

“Did your… partner tell you about tonight.” 

Hard and distant. That’s how she speaks to you. Your heart cracks. 

Your mom already knows Ellie did. She loves to bother you with nonsense. You don’t think she’s ever called Ellie your wife. 

“Yes.” 

“You’re attending.” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

“Is that all.” 

“Your gown was delivered here. Come by well before 8 to get ready.” 

And she hangs up. Just like that. Always. She’s never told you to have a nice day, or to rest well, or that she loves you, at the minimum. And if she had, you don’t remember any of it. There’s a lot you force yourself to forget. 

The selfish part of you disregards the burning of your eyes to stare at your phone — low battery and… no messages. No texts, no phone calls from anyone except your mother, no likes on Instagram because your mom scared you into not making one when you were a teenager. No one cares about you. People care about your wife, though. Maybe because she’s talented; she’s certainly not nice. 

Your darkest memories are always the most prominent. 

Your phone drops to the floor and you don’t reach for it. You just pray to sleep again. 

Tonight will be interesting. 

The ride to your mother’s is silent. 

At least she chauffeured the two of you. Ellie can be scary when she drives. You’ve never been in a car with her, but she did ram into a lamppost on the sidewalk a few nights after your wedding. 

Your wife is already dressed despite the party being hours away. She sits right next to you in all black; in a trenchie and turtleneck and slacks and loafers with fur and gold jewelry. When she descended the staircase, you gawked when she wasn’t looking. So simple, but she had your heart fluttering when she’d asked, ready? You’re still in your sleep shorts, teeth unbrushed and starving. When was the last time you ate? 

What an embarrassment — you’re an embarrassment, but you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. If only newly wed you could see herself now. 

You swallow a lump when you feel eyes on the side of your face, but yours remain glued out the window. The closer you get to your mom’s, the faster your mind starts to shut down. Everything passes you by in a blur. 

By the time the gates with your father’s initials come into view, your thoughts go silent, only filled with the calming images of nature and the song of birds. Your only escapism. 

The only way you’ll make it out of here in one piece. 

Ellie! Darling! We’ve missed you! Give us a smile! 

Ellie! Ellie, look this way! 

Ellie, where’s your wife? 

She wishes she knew. You’d barely made it into your mother’s home before getting swept down the hall by 4 other people who poked at your appearance. Ellie didn’t even get to give your mom the passive, spine-chilling hi, mom like old times before another SUV came to whisk her away from that hell hole. Her dad always knows somehow. 

She hates being at your mom’s; it’s stifling and quiet and the aura is dark. Like mother, like house or whatever the fuck. 

She scowls when the bombarding questions redirect to you. Some concerning, some sarcastic, some raunchy — those get under her skin in particular — and she can’t stop fiddling with her ring. Her chest tugs tugs tugs. 

Trouble in paradise? 

You were caught leaving the bar with another woman on your arm a few weeks ago! How’d your wife react to that? 

She doesn’t know. She’s never home to see you break. 

Guilt ate at her when the door of your mother’s mansion shut behind her, but she disregards it now. You shouldn’t be forced to listen to their guised jabs; You get enough of that from everyone in your life. She hopes you’ll go through the back entrance when you arrive. 

When will you get here? 

Ellie’s never made an event appearance without you. You’d pose and fidget and display awkward affection so that they’d buy your love a little bit, then enter the gathering as two separate hearts, riddled and torn, never to cross paths until the bustle is over and it’s time to go home. 

Finally, security moves and barricades her until she gets past the 20 foot gate and treads the steps. The flashing cameras are still blinding from behind. 

The tended garden is the first thing she notices. Wide and green. The daisy and rose bushes are no longer tangled with weeds and surrounded by dead grass and gnats. How could Joelene not see that and be vengeful? Ellie and her dad may not be close anymore, but she knows him; maybe even more than he knows himself. He still misses her mom after everything, and chooses to express it through her favorite hiding spot. Keeps the flowers that bloom and trims the ones that don’t so she lives through them. Ellie hardly remembers a time when her mother wasn’t covered in dirty overalls and sunburnt. 

She manages to hold it together when the large double doors open. The violins suddenly sound like nails on wood. 

Voices fade into nothing. People are outside your car. Light hurts so terribly. 

One second you’re here, the next you’re not. Your mom and her husband sit across with twined arms and the lace from your dress is itchy and you wanna disappear. When you blink, you’re gone. You only exist on this plain if your eyes are open. 

Something hard and leather brushes against your ankle, scratches against your stockings, slow and snake-like. You know what it is, who it is, and you freeze, eyes locked onto your mother. No matter your hopelessness, there’s still a young girl in you that wishes your mother would defend, act on anger, be disgusted at minimum. At least when his crimes are done in secret you can’t blame her for not knowing. 

But you’re here and she’s here and he’s here. A shared secret between the three of you. 

His shoe doesn’t halt on your leg. Your mother never looks at you. 

Birds and songs and sonnets. You’re a bird and you can fly against the strongest winds. Music is your guide and you follow the clouds. 

Your fingers twist together in your lap and the black interior of the car glows red. If only… he’s not the only one with sick intentions. If only. 

You’re flying you’re flying you can fly and there’s someone who’ll love you gently. They’re out there somewhere and you’ll find them and they’ll find you like every trial was worth it. 

Patience. That’s all you need. Just be patient. 

The rest of the car ride is unbeknownst to you. Next thing you know, your door is being opened and two men await your entry at the glass door. 

Champagne is good. Tequila is better. The two mixed is hell. 

Ellie’s throat burns and her mind swirls but she plays it off well enough. Mingles with pensive, old bastards while their daughters’ gawk at her with bright-eyed curiosity and you haven’t arrived yet. 

She lost her dad somewhere in the night. He greeted her briefly upon her arrival, pointed out the important men of the night, called your mother a selfish bitch, then walked off with his mistress by his side. Ellie’s eyes keep meeting the back door from the living room. 

Where are you? 

“Ellie!”

She downs the rest of her chute and guards her agitation with a grin. Shakes the hand of… 

What the fuck was this dude’s name? 

“It’s an honor! Your art is incredible! I’ve truly—“

—Fucking Ronald? Reginald? … Ronald might be it—

“—Your father, ya know, he’s an interesting man, incredibly smart! I’ve never—“

Her dad gave her a run-down of the … merging or whatever the fuck but what the fuck did he say and holy shit, is she sweating? The man’s handshake threw her off, frankly; almost snapped her wrist in two. Fucking old piece of shit. More business jargon that she pretends to understand and care so much about because it’s a show after all. All cheers and stiff laughter. 

“And your wife! By God, what a looker!”

Her jaw clenches. Where are you where are you where are you

“What we’d give, I mean, c’mon!” Men that pass laugh with him and it’s taking everything in Ellie not to smash this glass over his head. One quick swing and it’s over. For him and her. How promising.

“Where is she anyway? You two didn’t come together?” 

“She um, she’s with her parents right now. They’ll be here.” She jerks her chin toward the entrance. 

“How lucky are you. Treat her like the star she is!” It looks like the shithead’s leaving, but not before taunting, “Holler when she arrives, will ya?” 

And just like that, he leaves Ellie to simmer. Three deep breaths. A man in a suit and tray filled with champagne waltzes passed her and she snags two glasses. Downs the first in one thick swallow before another clinks with hers. 

Why does everyone keep fucking with her? 

“Cheers.” 

Ellie doesn’t need to look to know who it is. She scoffs. “Sounds like you’re having fun.” 

Jolene stands next to her, shoulders slouched and dress glowing under the chandelier. She arches a dark brow, “Who wouldn’t? Men are the most entertaining when they’re on ego trips.” 

“Same goes for my dad?” She snips, and Jolene shocks her with a smile. 

“Meh.” 

“Why are you here.” 

“I just told you—“

“No, where are you here.” Ellie gestures between them, “Why’re you talking to me right now?” 

Jolene downs her drink and shrugs, “My attempts at bonding. On a scale of 1 to 10, how shit were they?” 

“900. Leave me the fuck alone.” Before Ellie can run, a hand clamps down on her wrist. 

“I know—“ The woman rushes, “I know we don’t have the best relationship, but I’m not—“

Ellie almost corrects her out of pettiness; They don’t have a relationship, period. There’s no best or worst. But her sudden desperation halts her. 

“—the enemy. There’s not a lot for us in these spaces. I just wanted to try and establish something. Anything. Between us. It can be so lonely without a real support system.”

Ellie hates the direction her heart turns her mind. Suddenly you’re there and you’re crying and clawing at your chest and Ellie just watches like she did that night. So powerless. So empty. 

But Jolene isn’t you. She chooses to be selfish. Yours comes from self preservation and nothing else. 

Ellie snatches her hand back and throws her the deadliest stare. “You don’t know shit about being lonely. You’re the one who gave up everything you had to fuck my dad when my mom wasn’t looking. How much did you care about her loneliness then? Hm?” 

The timing was perfect, really. 15 year old Ellie watched her parents get into one of their most abhorrent arguments; her dad leaves first, then her mom, then only one of them returns, and it was not her mother. Imagine her shock when a news reporter confirmed that her mother’s body had been thrown in a garbage bag and left in a dumpster to rot. It only took two weeks to mourn before he was marrying another woman. 

Nobody cared that her mother had been shot or stabbed or gutted. She was just a woman married to a successor who raised a deviant child. 

Ellie forces herself to not point fingers, though. Anyone could’ve killed her, she always reminds herself; to keep her from going fucking crazy. But timing… 

How telling is time. 

Jolene’s eyes widen and her grip weakens. Ellie takes that as an escape before she has a breakdown in front of the caviar platter. 

She barely takes a step before she collides with a body. 

Funny. 

She bumped right into a star that shines a royal blue. The woman of the hour, for sure. In her mind, at least.

“Sorry.” You whisper.

“You’re fine. All me.” Ellie says lowly as she takes you in, and you do the same to her. Shy, but yearnful glances. Glossed lips tightly sealed and brows tense. Your dress shimmers and holds you snug and she feels guilty for staring at your curvature. She’s suddenly hyper aware of the vultures that disguise themselves as men and she has an instinct to hide you. And your ring is on. The thumping in her chest picks up. Only slightly. 

“It’s great to see you again.” Jolene says shakily from beside Ellie and she almost loses it before a grating voice interrupts. 

“You, as well. And your husband is…?” 

Your mother. And her lap dog wagging his tail beside her. What a bitch. Both of them. 

Your stepdad says something and you inhale sharply and no one notices but Ellie. She studies you carefully. You look like a frightened cat with a frilled tail as he speaks. Claws out, not because you’re ferocious, but so, so scared. She glances at your stepdad; greasy smile while he ogles at Jolene; what a nasty son of a bitch. 

Ellie whispers to you, “Is everything o—“

“Joel! Man of the hour! How are—“

“Where’s the bathroom again?” You whisper back. 

Ellie takes your hand in hers and flees while the family’s distracted, leading you down a hallway that’s way too long with lights too bright. 

She gestures towards the door. “It’s… This is it. One of ‘em at least.” 

“… Thank—“

“What’s the matt—“ 

“I’m fine.” 

“You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost. Did that piece of shit say something to you?” Ellie glances to make sure no listeners are hiding in the shadows. 

The widest smile grows on your face as you laugh, hearty and loud with your head thrown back. Ellie stares in confusion. 

“Oh, Ellie! You’re so silly,” She jumps when your hands hold her cheeks. You’re fucking freezing and they tremble. Your eyes are a dark void. 

You lean in closer, lips right against her mouth and they part slightly on instinct. She’s concerned and should ask more questions, but your skin is so soft. Are you gonna kiss her, she wonders? You haven’t kissed since your wedding; your breath hits her mouth and her tongue swipes her lips. Her eyes flutter shut and she aches to touch you—

“Save a seat for me, love? Please?” 

It happens so fast; the frost of you is gone and the bathroom door slams shut while an elderly woman fondly whispers, “young love,” as she walks by. Ellie only nods with a rigid curl of her lips, throat cinched too tightly to swallow. 

You puzzle her. She’s tempted to wait for you, to ensure you make it back safely without bombardment, but then 

“Ellie! Why didn’t you call me! Your wife made it safely, I see!” 

A hand claps on her shoulder while men laugh from the side, boisterous and predatory and so wide their fangs show. Ellie’s sick and a war rages within her. 

“Your father sent me to find you! It’s time to eat!” 

She sends them a weak smile. She rushes away from the door and they follow close behind. 

Anything to lure them away from you. 

Attendees have dwindled, only Ellie and her family and you and yours and some CEOs that are really getting on her fucking nerves. But you’ve eaten, thank God. She can breathe a little. 

Only a bit, though. You’re putting on a fucking show and it’s scaring her; Even her dad seems impressed. Charmed by you. Clinking glasses and telling jokes and smiling. Did your mom hold you at gunpoint before you got here? How much did you drink? Not much from what she’s seen. 

That one fucker from earlier — Raymon or Robert or whatever the fuck — keeps leaning over the table whenever you do. Peeping at your chest, probably. She wishes these steak knives were sharper. 

“So! Our young couple,” says Old Bitch with a Combover and wiggly brows, “When are we getting those heirs?” 

You cough uncomfortably and Ellie squirms in her seat. Your mother scoffs, “Two women can’t have children—“

Said Old Bitch shrugs, “Well, not biologically—“

“My point exactl—“

Ellie’s father cuts in with a tense grin, “When they get to that point, we’ll discuss their options. There’s… many nowadays, evidently.” 

Neither you or Ellie interrupt, but she notices you’ve moved closer to her. Inched your seat a bit. You squeeze your hands so hard in your lap she’s scared they’ll shatter where they lay. You’re not smiling anymore. 

Her dad and your mom are subtle with their blows at one another; snarky with brutal stares, unremarkable to strangers, but you and Ellie know. When dinner ends, you’ll both be caught in their crossfire. 

“There’s no shame in me wanting my grandchildren to be by blood. I shouldn’t have to go shopping for an heir.” Your mother hisses. 

“Sh—“ Joel huffs with disgust, “Shopping for an heir? That’s what you think adoption entails?” 

“Does it not?” Your mother’s tone rises. 

Reggie, Rory, or Russell interjects with a dismissive wave, “C’mon, you too! No need to argue. I’m sure girls like them will be fine with obtaining children! It might be more… complicated, I will say!” 

“May I be excused?” You croak, and Ellie straightens. 

“Why? So you can wallow about dying childless?” 

The table silences. No laughter, no wittiness. Completely still. That wasn’t from your mother. Ellie doesn’t remember the last time she’s heard your stepdad speak so clearly. Her blood thrashes beneath her skin so harshly that her tongue unties. There’s a darkness in her that whispers, “grab that steak knife”. Brutalize him. Just for a second. Do it for you. 

Do it for her. 

“Go fuck yourself.” She spits. 

Your neck almost cracks with the speed you turn to her, eyes wide as the moon. Her father condemns, “Watch your mouth, Ellie.” 

“Or what, you old fuck?” 

Her heart rattles noisily in her chest; her hands shake where they rest on her lap, her cells trembling with the instinct to harm. The gaze of her father is distant and filled with inadequacy for his only line. Nothing unbeknownst to her, but there's a flash of something so deep, so forbidden for them, but she sees it every time they hold contact. Beneath all the loathing and lesions left to drain, there’s longing. An inkling of gratitude that she knows he’ll suppress until he’s buried underground. He’ll never look the same to her, and she imagines the same for him. Too many bridges burned. 

“How’d I do?” Ellie rasps to him, “Hm? The night went how you hoped?” 

Look at what you’ve done, she hopes her eyes say. Tears welt against her will. When was the last time she cried in front of him? She hadn’t even given him that honor at her mother’s funeral years ago. 

Ellie’s stiff stature nearly cracks at the light brush atop her knee. A wind catches in her throat when a pinky turns into three fingers, then five, then a palm that squeezes comfortingly, desperately. Maybe partly to keep her glued to this chair. She gulps the dryness down and a flame lights in the pit of her stomach. 

Her glance to you is brief, barely out of the corner of her eye, but you’re watching her. Intensely, and it scorches her cheeks, all the way down to her neck. Scared cat. Scared cat. Shrilled and cold and frightened to hell and she despises it. 

What changed? She’ll always wonder. That look hardly shook her a week ago and now it makes her teeth ache. 

Suddenly, it’s too warm here. 

“Get up,” Ellie rushes you. Grabs your arm and yanks you from your seat, “Not dealing with this fuckin’ bullshit tonight. We’re leaving.” 

There’s suddenly shouting from all directions of the dinner table with each step Ellie takes for you, but you never drop her hand. She clenches it tighter when you finally reach the back door. 

The door slams shut on the wreckage behind you. 

Consider plan MERGE a bust. 

Ellie’s a thief. You think. Maybe. 

Is it stealing if the car belongs to a family member? Where she snagged the keys from? You don’t remember. One second you’re at dinner, then watching the city pass you by the next. It’s silent in here. 

“Stop.” 

You slam back into your body. Still in the car. You wish you were asleep. 

“Huh?” 

Her eyes watch the road, but a hand rests on both of yours to pry them apart. 

“Stop. I hate that sound.” 

“… Wha—“

“You’re gonna rip your skin off if you don’t stop.” 

… Oh. Yeah. Bloody cuticles. It was all accidental, you swear. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Her eyes shut briefly and she sighs, sounding so worn. Exhaustion is her white flag. “Just stop.” 

“Alright.” 

“Thanks.” 

It’s quiet again. The red from the stop light reflects in the car and you’re instantly reminded of your stepfather. 

“Ellie.” 

“Hm.” 

“We should get a bird.” 

“… And do what with it.” 

You shrug, “Pet it. Feed it, too.” Sing with it, you wanted to add. Ellie would’ve probably laughed at you. 

She snickers dryly, “That’s usually what you do with a pet.” 

“I never had one.” 

The light turns green and the car revs. Your wife hums, “I had a fish once or twice.” 

“Lucky.” 

A small — very, very minuscule grin quirks Ellie’s lips and your heart hollers. For joy? In warning? 

“Not really. They kept dying so I gave up.” She snickers to herself, and you can’t help but stare. She starts talking then. Eyes gone, tension gone. She’s suddenly relaxed. 

“My mom… she, uh… loved water. Was always in it or… watching it on TV or something. She always bought fish from fucking… PetCo—“

“PetCo?” You laugh, then Ellie does. 

“Right? She’d take me and be like, “get one”. And I went home with a new fish every time.” 

“I thought you only went once or twice?” 

“… Times 100,” She giggles, “My mom lived there. She would always talk to the cats through the glass.” 

You don’t hesitate, “I wanna go.” 

“To PetCo?” 

“Yeah.” Why not? 

Everything is almost over. So, why not? 

“… K.” 

“So we’ll go?” 

“Mhm.” 

And the conversation ends. The car is silent. Suddenly tense again when you ask, 

“Do you think we’re cut off?” 

Ellie’s jaw clenches and the car is suddenly tense. Back to square one. “Possibly. Tonight was a shit show. It went by fast, at least.” 

“What’s gonna happen to me?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m…”

Alone. You’re fucking alone and know nothing about life outside of what was built around you. Without it, you’ll spiral and fail and face a dreadful reality. No more rose colored glasses even if they’re browned and wilted as is. You’ll be eaten alive by the creatures in the night without a protective border. 

But the curse will end. You won’t inherit or be forced to lie or play a game that ends in fire. Decades of legacy down the drain just like that, and by your own hand. It fascinates you, that power. A force you’ve been withheld from. 

“I don’t know.”

“Still thinking about divorce?” A void in Ellie’s tone. 

“I don’t know.” 

“They’ll never allow it, you know that, right?” 

“What if I just leave?” 

“And do what?” Her voice raises. 

“Who knows. Who cares.” 

“Please,” Ellie exasperates, “Your mom will get fucking SWAT to bring you back.” 

“What good will a corpse do for her?” 

You’ll be dead but you’ll have a bird. A colorful one. That’ll be your legacy. That’s all you need, really. Ellie doesn’t say anything. Neither do you. 

More buildings flash by and suddenly you’re home. Parked in the garage with Ellie beside you, gazing off into opaque walls. You wonder what she’s thinking. If she sees everything in black and white like you do. Maybe she’s the opposite, vision bright and full of suppressed color. She is a painter after all. 

“What’re your plans?” Ellie suddenly whispers. 

“For?” 

“Life. The future. Anything,” She pries and digs for something, “There has to be something that interests you! That gets you excited! There’s so much shit to do.” 

You shrug. Not much. Not anything. 

“I used to be excited for my wedding,” You mumble, “Like… as a kid. White dress and flowers and everyone’s just excited to be there. For love, and whatever, you know? That’s how it was in movies, at least.” It’s embarrassing to admit, but it’s off your chest. The unhealthy romanticization of the happiest day of your life ended up being just another day to honor the greed of your families. Everyone was so lifeless when they watched you and Ellie kiss. It hadn’t even lasted 3 seconds before she shoved the band on your finger with teary cheeks. Such beautiful scenery was wasted on misery. 

You look over and Ellie’s eyes are roaring, palms squeezing together in her lap while her wedding ring twists around her finger. You watch it cycle. 

“Now I…” You chuckle sadly, “I just want a bird, to be honest.” 

With your heels and purse in hand, the car door opens and you exit, forcing yourself not to peek through the windshield at Ellie again. 

The second floor, your bedroom, your bathroom, are all quiet. Did Ellie not follow you inside? For a while, you envision what it would be like if you weren’t married. If you weren’t born as you, would your world be this still? 

It haunts you in the shower. Wolffish eyes and dry hands grasping at your shoulders and waist but everything’s quiet. 

You wash your face, brush your teeth, wrap your hair alone. You wonder if anyone is actually in the house. Was Ellie a figment of your imagination? Is this one of the nights that proves she doesn’t exist and that your brain is your greatest enemy? You shove your face into the mattress before your thoughts venture. Silence rocks you to sleep, but not forgetting the taunting desire to know 

Is death this quiet? 

Your mom’s calling. 

Vibrations rattle in your bedside dresser. The sun isn’t up yet. The birds are still resting. She never calls this early… or late. Something bad must’ve happened. It takes 17 seconds for your drawer to stop shaking before it starts again. 

You can’t move to answer, though. Your body isn’t yours at the moment. Your soul will reclaim its shell soon enough. Or maybe it won’t. 

Your drawer shakes shakes shakes. Your heartbeat eventually matches the pace of its vibrations. You think it’s been 20 minutes. Maybe longer. When will the birds wake? 

Finally, the calls stop. Your eyes shut again. Instantly taken by darkness. 

You never wear normal clothes. 

Ellie’s only ever seen you in thousand dollar dresses and high heel shoes that scrape your achilles and cloth that squeezes you so tight she thinks she might explode by just looking at you. No matter how fucking good you look in them. 

So what the fuck is that? Moreso, why does she like it so much? Her cheeks are on fucking fire and her heart is trying to flee its enclosing. 

You have a t-shirt on. A simple, non-Gucci white tee that says LAS VEGAS and black shorts and a scarf on your head and socks with squirrels on them. Is this the fucking matrix? 

You never wake up this late, either. It’s 20 till 10. 

“Did my mom call you at all?” 

No… no she didn’t… Why can’t Ellie speak? She’s sitting there gaping like a fish and taking guilty glances at your nipples through your shirt. She shakes her head. You nod yours. 

“I uh…” She mumbles with a cotton mouth when you step into the kitchen, “I made coffee.” 

“I smelled it.” You serve yourself at the counter. 2 Splenda packs, no cream.

“Did your mom call you?” 

“Yes.” 

“What’d she say?” 

“I didn’t answer.” 

… Interesting. Odd. Her calls are never missed by you. 

“I hope it’s something bad.” 

Ellie swallows her sip thickly. “… Damn. Why?” 

“She deserves it.” You say calmly while stirring. “He does, too.” 

“Your dad?” 

“My stepfather,” You hiss and slam your mug on the table. Ellie flinches, “Yes.” 

Her palms raise in surrender, “Sorry.” 

“Where do you go at night?” The chair across from her scrapes on hardwood when you sit. 

Nowhere, recently. Ellie shrugs as nonchalantly as she can, “Anywhere. Wherever I want.” 

“Take me next time.” 

She pauses her sip to ogle. “Hm?” 

“Take me. I wanna see what’s fun for you.” 

Ellie huffs a shocked laugh, “No, you don’t.” 

You squint, “Yes, I do. That’s why I’m asking to see.” 

“It’s not your scene, dude, trust m—“

She jolts where she sits when a hand — your hand, soft and agile and cold, slams down on the table, rattling both your mugs and the vase that holds dead flowers, nearly shattering the glass with an accusatory finger. 

“You dunno know shit about me! I’m fucking going whether you like it or not! Whether she likes it or not, and if I have to do it myself, I fucking will, you fucking psychotic fucking bitch!” 

You rise and stomp to where she sits with a pounding heart and a lecherous swirl in her gut. You look about ready to slice her open with a blunt butter knife. 

“You treat me like fucking trash just like everyone else,” You whisper venomously, and Ellie shakes, “The least you could do is listen for once. Scared to take me to the place you cheat on me at? Don’t want me to see it? That’d be too real, huh?” 

Ellie exhales a shaky breath of your name, but your nails, cut and manicured to perfection, sink into her cheeks so tightly that she winces and blushes and her tummy twists with heat. You don’t flinch when her fingers delicately entangle around your wrist; doesn’t want you to think she’s holding you there even though she is. 

“You’re gonna show me a good time tonight. If it’s as fun as you say, that shouldn’t be an issue, right?” 

Her eyes must read yes, yes, it’s not a problem; Your grin is wild like a hyena; pretty lips swelled around pretty teeth and you always smell good. Caramelized sugar and nectar.  

“Who knows,” You purr and Ellie feels goosebumps forming, “Maybe I can meet one of your little friends.” 

She chokes around a gasp before her lips curl into a conniving grin, cheeks plush around your fingers, “Aren’t you a little hussy.” 

“Fuck you.” You shove her so hard her back collides with the seat but her eyes glow pink. She watches you leave the kitchen and stomp up the steps with a burning chest until a door slams from upstairs. She releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding, wracked and desperate. 

-

-

-

Ellie will never admit — or maybe she will, but she purposefully uses your shared bathroom to catch glimpses at you. She always expects to find you out cold and wrapped in warm blankets, chest fluttering with each twitch of your socked feet that peek from below the blankets. 

What she doesn’t expect to see, though, is your phone shattered to pieces and left to drown in the clogged sink. Right next to a weighted rubber mallet; Where’d you find that? All your pent up emotions were taken out on your device… and the counter, apparently. The marble is chipped. 

She can only laugh in astonishment. Amazement. Fear when she realizes… 

Your mom.

Did you ever answer the phone?

Another day you’ve slept away. Either you were dreaming or someone was holding you suffocatingly tight; you enjoyed it, strangely. The sun is completely gone and there’s rustling and music echoing from the bathroom. Ellie’s in there. 

All the blood rushes to your head with how quickly you sit up, but your feet carry you past your closets until the light from the room sizzles your vision. 

Your wife stands by the mirror, drying her hair with a towel with a cigarette between her fingers. The guitar synths coming from her phone are grinding in your ears. 

Is she really keeping her promise? 

Did she promise to take you? You don’t remember. 

“Hi.” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror and your spine twitches. You say nothing, so she chuffs with a teasing lift of her lips, “Chickenin’ out?”

“No.” 

“K.” 

“What do I wear?” 

She shrugs, “Whatever you want to.” She speaks around smoke and her timbre’s dry. 

“What are you wearing?” 

“Whatever I want to.” 

She must sense your skepticism because she’s suddenly reassuring, voice crackly, “You’re not under any expectations tonight. You wanted me to show you what I do for fun, and I’m gonna. You just have to do your part and enjoy it.” 

Your nails dig into your thighs while you watch her. She has her ring on and her body wash coats the room in cinnamon. With a pounding heart, your hands slowly drag up your sides, fingers dragging at the hem of your shirt. She’s not looking. 

Enjoy it…

“Did you eat today?” 

“No.” 

She gives you a look. Stern. What is she mad about? Your tummy flutters, “There’s leftovers downstairs, you can have ‘em,” She shakes her wet hair and puts on her glasses, checks her watch, checks her phone, hits her cigarette. “We’re kinda behind so you should get read—“

Enjoy it. 

Her eyes meet where your shirt drops to the floor, breasts on display while your hands inch up your legs to drag your shorts down, all while you watch her. And she watches you. It’s overwhelming, your wife as an audience while you undress. But she told you to enjoy it. Enjoy the night. Enjoy the stares. Enjoy the attention. Enjoy her, for once. It all seeps into your pores. You step out of your bottoms and peel your socks off. 

Ellie drinks you in slowly. Says nothing. Simply takes her time memorizing every line, curve, dip, scar of you. You like how ravenous she looks. The sin in her pupils only darkens when your thumbs hook in your underwear to shed them. They dangle from your index finger when you walk; You smile when her throat jumps. 

She watches your filled hand travel to her pant pocket to shove the flimsy cloth in. The muscles in her back twitch when your finger traces her spine. Ellie’s pretty, littered in cute, red and brown spots. 

“I’m gonna shower.” Your lips brush her ear, and goosebumps rise all over her arms. Her eyes flutter in a pleasant blink, nodding in understanding. 

Your wife takes her lighter and reignites your favorite candle while your water warms. How sweet of her to set the mood for you. 

Ellie finishes her cigarette while you lather, watching her through the fogged glass of the shower walls, massaging soapy hands into your breasts and your legs and everywhere. She lights another at some point, bent over the counter while she smokes, ogling you through the mirror shamelessly. You smile when it settles in your chest.

You’re gonna fuck your wife tonight. 

What a fucking oddball you are. It’s cute. A little sexy, too. Only a little, she swears. 

… Fuck. 

She waits for you on the bed, dressed and jewelried, fiddling with her watch out of nerves because what the fuck are you playing at? Whiplash; that’s what she’s had all fucking day because of you. She works in the morning, for fucks sake. 

Still…

Does she deserve this sudden… What the fuck even is this? Certainly not affection; you nearly strangled her at the dining table. Attention, possibly? Seduction? She’s wired to hell, she wants you so bad. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

She could act on her attraction, sure. She’s positive you’d allow her to take whatever she wanted because that’s what you’re trained to do; to satisfy your partner — husband, she imagines your mother grating — in any way he desires. But Ellie’s not a man, and she doesn’t want that. She needs you to love it, to crave it as much as she does. To take from her like she dreams of taking from you. Ellie needs you to batter her, and if you’d like, she’ll do the same to you. 

If only you’d give her something tangible. Teasing isn’t enough. She’s desperate to get a grasp on your headspace; she wishes she could prick and prod at your brain for a second. What an experience that would be. 

You enter the bedroom like a ghost; hair still wet and coily, dressed in all black like she is, only decorated with gloss and earrings. No heels either. Just very shimmery looking flip-flops. Ellie bites down a smile. 

“Where are we going?” 

She shrugs at your inquiry, “Somewhere really, really loud.” 

“Will people find us?” Paps, you mean. Ellie denies. 

“Not where I’m taking you.” 

“Must be secretive.” 

She tuts, “Not… well, maybe. It’s fun though. I think you’ll like it.” 

“Okay.” 

Ellie stands with her wallet and keys and kiddingly offers you an arm to hold onto. “M’lady.”

But you don’t accept it; back turned, halfway out of the room towards the stairs.

Pleasant. She doesn’t mean to smile. 

She makes sure to grab the to-go box from earlier before locking the front door behind her. 

It is very loud here. And hot. And raunchy. 

… You like that. Your mom would have a heart attack if she were to ever walk in here. 

The trip to this whatever, wherever place was pretty far. You counted every second of the nearly hour ride, mainly because Ellie’s jittery knee made you nervous. It’s smaller than you assumed, but not quaint. Not at all. There's a ruckus from the entrance to the back exit, people your age and older, screaming and shouting words that you don’t know while people pound on drums and shred on guitar. They sweat through their clothes while their makeup streaks down their faces as they make love to microphone stands. 

… Better than tea time, you suppose. How exhilarating. Your heart’s pounding like crazy.

Not much can be said between you and Ellie. You can’t hear over the bass and rumbles from the floor but she holds your hand and small purse. Guides you to a small section in the back with a bar. She hands the tender her card and… that’s it. Four clear, questionably large shots are poured and slid to her like nothing. You want all of them. 

Ellie seems so at home as she guides you, already a burning shot down, into the crowd. You’re shoved instantly by party goers, but she catches you, holds you strongly. You look at her, puzzled with shock, but she uncaringly lifts her shoulders, downs a shot, and starts thrashing. 

Your jaw slacks and lights beam and flicker at a rapid pace but you’re smiling. Your wife meshes with the scene so nicely. You wanna be like that. So you follow. You drink and jump and flail and scream your head off. 

You and your wife are synched for once. Terrible dancers. No rhythm whatsoever. Who cares who cares who cares.

You wish your mom was here to see you like this. You hope your mom’s dead so she never has to see you like this. A thought so dark shouldn’t bring you this much joy. You laugh and holler at the imagery. Blood all over the marble. Blood all over the doors of your childhood home. Blood blood blood everywhere because they deserve it. Look at what they’ve done to you. Sick evil people.

You wanna kill your stepfather. This music makes you wanna kill your stepfather. It’s gorey in itself, almost. Abborherent verbiage. You think Ellie wants to kill your stepfather, too. You should ask her later. Maybe when you're both sober. Maybe you should make your mom watch you skin him alive. Him dying would damage her more than you ever could. 

When your eyes open, Ellie’s gawking at you, seemingly surprised. Impressed? She holds your cheeks to get your attention, gesturing, asking if you want another drink. You nod and shout in her face and she laughs. Ellie holds you by the waist and guides you to the bar. The bartender must like Ellie. You leave with a full bottle this time. 

You and Ellie pass it between yourselves, the night becoming more and more broken. Touchy. Feely. Ellie rubs all over you while you pour liquor into her mouth. A bit dribbles down the sides but she doesn’t care. You don’t either. So you lick the drops from her neck like a cat with milk. Ellie stops and you stop and everything stops. It’s just the two of you, suddenly; all other patrons evaporate to nothingness. Her eyes are blown and heavy as she searches your face, and they halt their wandering at your lips. She’s thinking about it; You want her to see how bad you crave it. Even if it’s just for a second. She smiles, pleased. You shudder. 

But she doesn’t do it. She spins you so your back is against her chest, lips at your neck while she pushes her hips into your ass. She’s messy, drenching your already sweaty neck in spit. Her nails dig into the fabric of your dress, guiding your hips, swaying you on her. You follow. You follow so blindly because you like her hands on you a little too much. You drink and drink and drink. Everything feels light. Good. 

You think Ellie’s speaking to you. Or singing words in your ear. Or maybe she isn't speaking at all. You’re not sure, but your face is burning hot. She tongues at your ear and you make a noise that you can’t hear but hope she can. You need this. 

Her hands are suddenly slow where they crawl up your sides until they rest on your breasts. Your empty hand lands on one of hers to squeeze so that she can squeeze you. You feel her smiling on your skin when your jaw slacks. 

Your head turns to chase her mouth, but she does you one better. Whisks you once more so your chests smash together. She snatches the bottle from your hand, takes one last swig before passing it to eager, drunk hands that wave from behind. You gasp when her thumb catches your bottom lip, pulls it down to get your mouth open enough for her to dribble liquor into. You moan loud enough for Ellie to hear over those booming drums, swallowing down everything she gives, nails sank into her waist while her hips push into yours. When you swallow the last drops, she kisses you. Messy and hot, tongue and teeth; it gets your heart singing. Her pink muscle swirls inside of your mouth and your arms wrap around her neck, yanking her into you so no space is left. Her hands are everywhere; tangled in your hair, grabbing at your hips, your ass, your thighs. Everywhere everywhere everywhere like she can’t get enough of you. You’re overwhelmed and high out of your mind but you follow her guide. Anywhere she wants you, you are. 

Maybe you’re just as bad as she is. After everything she’s done, you should hate her. You think you do. You hate her for leaving you. You hate her for embarrassing you. Abandonment. Her only gift to you. Maybe that’s why you kiss her with such conviction. 

Her touch is passionate; strong but not forceful. She breathes you in like a rarity, something she treasures, all while she licks and tugs at you like a slut. There’s a pulse deep within you when her lips enclose around your tongue to suck it. Your thighs squeeze and she grins madly, giving you one last innocent peck before she grabs your hand to spin you. You laugh and twirl with her. 

You understand why people fall in love so fast. You hate that you’re one of them. 

Or are you simply as delusional as they come? 

You’re even more enthralling when free of restraint. 

Ellie’s drunk and sweaty and exhausted but she uses every last bit of strength to stare at you. She sits at the bar as the crowd dwindles, artist after artist, established or aspiring, all go on to perform, and you haven’t taken a break once. You simply twirl and spin and mouth incorrect lyrics with the widest smile on your face, all while Ellie brings you her drinks to finish. 

You’ve been here for hours it seems, but Ellie can’t drive. But the night is young. You certainly don’t look ready to go home. 

What more can she show you?

“Thank you all for comin’ out! Tonight was a dream—“

You’re a dream, Her chest screams. You you you you fuck—

You clap like the happiest seal on the planet before spinning around to face Ellie. It happens in flashes: you come closer and closer until you’re in front of her, warm hands on her cheeks, ears tingling when you whisper, 

“I didn’t get to meet your sluts.” 

You sound upset about it. Ellie stumbles about how they didn’t come, how they’re not here. How she doesn’t wanna see them right now and she means it all, but you don’t believe her, and her chest hurts. Guilty guilty guilty. 

“Get up.” You step away and Ellie pains to pull you back, savor the night a second longer. But she signs the receipt before following you towards the exit. The cold air feels so good. She needs water now. 

She gives you a little yank when you start wandering the opposing direction, “Come… come here. This way.” 

You grin and slur, “Where to?” 

Ellie’s brows wiggle playfully, “Gas station. You hungry?”

“…Yes.”

Ellie extends her hand for you to hold, and surprisingly, you accept. Her heart jolts to life. 

The walk is quiet. Your eyes are glued to the sky, wide and innocent; the large moon entrances you, surrounded by glittery stars. You both wobble down the sidewalk, trying to avoid bumping into pedestrians and other drunkards. She thought the rowdiness of nightlife would frighten you, but you seem drawn to the chaos.  

Soon enough, you’re both surrounded by aisles filled with chips and sodas and a fuck ton of candy. Ellie cringes at the fond stares she gives you holding 4 packs of watermelon sour patches. You’re cute as hell right now. Have you never been to a convenience store? What the fuck. 

“El! El, what the fuck! Where ya been!” 

Her sluggish brain is trying — really trying to figure out who the hell just left the staff room and is walking towards the two of you. It’s someone that knows her name or whatever shortened version they’ve created and the closer this person gets the more you shield yourself behind her fuck fuck fuck

Arms latch around her neck in a strong hug. Muscular, nice voice, smells like cherries. 

Abigail Anderson. Shoulda known. Great. 

“Jesus fuck, you smell like my dad’s liquor cabinet! We fucking missed you! We haven’t seen you in…” 

When Abby pulls back, her eyes immediately find you. Ellie steals a glance; eyes wide, soft with curiosity. They darken slightly when they lock onto Abby’s shoulders, all the way down to her arms and Ellie… why the fuck does that annoy her? 

“Who’s that,” Abby whispers suggestively and Ellie sighs. Scratches at her eye in irritation. 

“I’m her wife.” You say causally, and it shocks both of them. Abby moreso. Did Ellie never tell her? She’s sure she did. Everyone knows she’s married… right?

“Wh— wife?” Her eyes shift onto Ellie, “Bitch, you got married? What the fuc— when—“

“3 months ago.” You answer.

“Fucking — holy shit. Congrats? Uhh… sorry! Nice to meet you! You’re gorgeous, by the way,” She stutters to shake your hand, but you accept it, “I’m Abby!” 

“Hi.” You smile in delight and your shoulders relax. Abby smiles just as gently and Ellie thinks it’s time to go because you’re both getting on her nerves. 

“Alright, well, we're gonna pay, so… yeah. I’ll text you tomorrow or something. We’re tired.” 

“Mhmm,” Abby hums cockily, eyes glued to the mess Ellie made of your neck, “Looks like y’all had a great time.” 

“We did,” She confirms with pointed eyes, “See ya.” 

“Byeee.” Abby sing-songs with a chuckle before Ellie leads you towards the service counter to dump your snacks. Ellie gives the cashier a familiar nod. 

“Is she who you fuck?” 

Ellie chokes on her water and the cashier gawks at you from behind their reading glasses. You couldn’t have been any fucking louder in that moment, what the fuck.

“What—“

“Do you fuck Abby? I hope not in that bathroom,” You clumsily point to the gender neutral sign near the entrance. “I heard they’re filthy—“

Ellie whispers even though there’s no point, “Dude, are you fucking crazy—“

“… It's just a question—“

“Have a nice night.” 

The cashier rigidly hands Ellie the stuffed baggie and receipt. She snatches them before snatching you to leave. She drops your hand the second briskness surrounds you, “The fuck was that about?” Her chips are calling her. She needs a stress reliever. 

“What—“

She squeezes the bag and the pop rings like a gunshot, “Why the fuck are you asking if I fucked Abby? What the fuck—“

“She’s hot and you kinda are… to a certain degree, I guess. I just assumed.” 

Ellie’s appalled, but doesn’t have the energy to look offended. “Stop assuming, it’s… that’s fucking weird—“

You simply shove tiny watermelon slices in your mouth and steal her water to chug it. She watches you impatiently before you hand the crumpled, half-empty plastic back to her. She downs the rest and discards it some-fucking-where. 

Her thoughts are clouded. Did she fuck Abby? Are you forreal—

“I don’t care, you know.”

“About what?” 

You shrug, “If you fuck her.” 

“Please be quiet.”

“Okay.” 

You both do for a while, dead grass and Dorritos crunching around you. 

Until Ellie speaks again. 

“You’re quiet.” 

“Mhm.”

“Sleepy?”

“Nmhm.” 

Wide awake, actually. The world passes you by with each step the two of you take, swirling with bright lights and laughter. You follow Ellie closely, handfuls of candy shoved in your mouth while she munches on her chips. You never had those orange triangles before. Neither of you are in a rush to make it back to the car. Can Ellie drive in this state?

“Do you, uh, like places like that? Concerts?” 

“Yes.” You break out in a grin. 

“What else do you like?” 

“I dunno. I haven’t… experienced much.” You shrug, accidentally brushing against your wife’s shoulder. Electricity sparks near the end of your spine where a steadying hand rests. “Your friend… does she go with you? To concerts?” 

“Who?”

“Aaabby.” You tease, mocking the blonde girl from earlier, and Ellie’s expressions flattens. She's unsure why. 

“Oh, uh… yeah,” Her chip bag is suddenly very interesting. “Sometimes. I met her at one a few years back after a showcase I hosted.” 

“I like her.” She’s nice and smells nicer. You regret not shaking her seemingly strong hand a few seconds longer. Strong all over, actually. 

“… Uh huh.” 

Your brow arches at that, “Does that bother you?” 

“Why the fuck would it bother me? You can like whoever.”  

“Exactly how you like whoever, huh?” You sneer lazily, and Ellie goes stoic. And just like that, the conversation dies once more. You’re glad for it; selfishly, you’d rather refrain from telling your wife about how attractive you found her friend. She’s left you guessing under too many circumstances. Consider this a sliver of revenge. 

You both make it back to the parking lot in silence, minus Ellie’s agitated crunching. You lean against the passenger door while you watch her dig around for the keys. 

“Where to?” 

“It's almost 4 in the morning.” She hisses. 

“So?” You came home later than that for weeks. You wanna say it. You should say it. Grind your thumb deeper into that open wound, but you save it. Another day, maybe. Maybe not. 

“So we’re going home. I’m tired.” 

“Well, I’m not.” 

“Okay? Whatever, I’ll drop you off somewhere.” 

“You wouldn’t leave your poor, defenseless wife unattended, would you?” You whisper slowly, and Ellie tenses when you plant a soft hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t acknowledge you, just stares through the window behind you. You scoff and drop it by your side. Cross your arms stubbornly. 

“You’re mad because I like Abby.”

“There’s nothing for you to like! You just met her.” Her voice raises, and annoyance flares in you. 

“Exactly! I just met her, and I like her! The fuck did you think I was gonna do? Flash her right in front of the gummy worms?” 

“I don’t know! Fucking maybe!”

“So you can fuck other people but I can’t?” 

Ellie’s very close to you suddenly. Your heart jumps, “Oh, now you wanna fuck Abby? She’s the first person you’ve interacted with besides me since we got fucking married!” 

“SO?” You holler. 

“SO YOU’RE NOT FUCKING MY FRIEND! ARE YOU INSANE!” Speckles of spit land on your face and it sizzles into your pores. You might be. You fucking are. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Ellie’s forcing herself into your space, so why do you fight? Why are you hungry? 

Your palms crash into her chest and she nearly loses her balance, “I DON’T NEED PERMISSION FROM YOU! WE’LL FINALLY BE EVEN, YOU FUCKING WHORE!” 

“Yeah? Think Imma fucking whore?” Her grin is sinister, and excitement coils in your belly. Gets your fingers twitching from how hard they’re clenched. 

“Maybe I do.” Vehemence scathed your tongue. 

“You know what I think?” 

“I don’t care—“

“I think you do.” She mumbles against your cheek, “I think you’re jealous.” 

You still. Ellie’s eyes pierce through yours, burning and hot, nostrils flared: she looks like she could snap you in half. Your spine tingles with delirium. 

“You’re mad because I get to be. I can exist and fuck and party and come and go as I please and you hate it. You wish you could do what I do.” She stares like you killed her mother yourself. Strangled her with your bare hands. “I don’t have mommy and daddy breathing down my neck every 2 seconds. You want that so bad it makes you sick.” 

“So why stay?” 

It shocks her. You don’t waver; passive as usual. 

“You’re free and can do whatever you want, right? Why are you here? Go and be that. Be whoever you wanna be because you can.”

Everything will be over soon. Might as well. Ellie simply glares through you. 

Curiosity is your worst enemy. Might as well ask. 

“Why’d you defend me at dinner?” 

What does she know what does she know what does she know what

She rubs her eyes stubbornly, “Oh my fucking god, who gives a fuck!” 

“Me! I give a fuck! Why’d you do it! Why! You’ve never done it before!” 

She knows she knows she knows she knows she knows she knows

“BECAUSE FUCK HIM! FUCK EVERYBODY THAT DID THIS TO US! FUCK YOU, TOO!” 

You might cry, you might not. You’re unsure of everything and you’re angry and hurting. Ellie’s a reflection of you, and vise-versa. You hate her hate her hate her. 

Hatred. It might be the reason why kissing her feels so good. Because it shouldn’t be happening. Ellie shouldn’t have you trapped between her and her car, grinding so harshly into you that your spine bends. You shouldn’t tug at her hair to expose her neck to lick and suck and bite her neck red while she curses in your ear. 

This is the distraction you’ve been desperately searching for. To think you’d find it in your wife after all this time. 

“I’d be a whore for you,” She shamelessly seers against your throat, hands wandering to unbutton her own pants, “You know that, right?” 

… That’s cute. Makes you blush. 

“Yeah?” Her laugh is thick like syrup, “Gets you hot? Knowing how easily I’d give it up for you?” 

That sideways grin makes you tick. Your hand closes tight around her throat and she nearly bloodies her bottom lip with her fangs. Your wife looks pathetic; thumbs hooked into her pants, so ready to drop them for you in the middle of the parking lot. People are wandering about; she’s willing to fuck in front of them? 

How pretty would she look trying to be quiet for you? Nervous eyes searching for privacy, praying no one walks by and sees her on the edge with your hand down her underwear. Hopefully no one recognizes her, pulls out their phone, records the two of you. Blasts you both on social media while Ellie moans in your mouth. What would people think? Your families? How ashamed would they be? Their two girls making a mess of themselves in public. 

The thought makes you smile. Scares you. Makes you choke her harder. Her pained whine vibrates in your palm. 

“Get the fuck in the car.” 

The windows fog with the heat of your bodies; her body trapped beneath yours in the back seat that’s roomier than you anticipated. She rolls your hips on top of her, desperate and eager to rip your fucking clothes off and feel you for real. Your dress rests around your hips, your panties on display and she wishes she could see them. She only has her hands for reference, tracing over each thin seam littered with lace and patterns she tries to memorize. Your tongue belongs in her mouth. You feel so fucking good; you’re not close enough. She needs you closer. 

Her mouth chases yours when you finally separate, only connected by a thin string of saliva, but a stern hand collides with her chest to keep her flat. Her hands tickle your waist. Rests your dress even higher until she can see your belly button. 

“Wanna know a secret?” You whisper down at her, and she smirks. 

“I know you’re a virgin, baby.” She whispers giddily, and your teeth grit. A flame coils in your chest. You ignore her.

“You could’ve had me after our wedding, you know? With my face buried in the pillows and my ass in your face. I would’ve let you do whatever you wanted that night.” 

Your sudden vulgarity stuns her silent. Your wife looks like she’s imagining it; lip bruised from both your and her teeth, mind racing with filth of you in every position she can think of. She wouldn’t have been able to separate from you if that was the case. It’s one of the reasons she kept her distance; those pretty brown eyes rolled back would’ve put her underground. She’d never tell you that. 

“But no,” You say like it aches, “You wanted to go and bend over all those girls that follow you around like fucking dogs. You wanted a bitch, not a wife. Right or wrong?” 

She can barely breathe and your hand pressing on her chest isn’t helping; reduces her to sharp gasps that make her lightheaded. The more ragged they become, the harder you press. Your brow arches when she innocently bares her teeth. 

Her palms squeeze at your ass, “I thought about you the entire time—“

Your hand cracks and her head flies to the side. Right on her left cheek is the already reddening imprint of your hand. The crackles in your palm are numbed by the alcohol and your core burns at the shock on her face. She gawks off to the side, that meddling smile dropped completely, chest ragged with her breaths. 

“Ellie, put your hands down.” You spit, and they drop from you completely, palms flat on the seat beneath her. 

“You had every chance to do right by me and you wasted every single one.” You sound like you’re about to cry; Ellie’s too scared to look at you. Not the good scared that she’s felt around you this entire time, but a hollow scared. The one that freezes you. Her fight or flight is triggered. 

“I think you owe me an apology.” You whisper against her burning face before you kiss it gently. A pained groan escapes her, and you laugh. Loud, in her face. Even louder when she tries to grind her hips up into you. 

“Take us home, wife.” 

[aouiaa]

INTRODUCING

barista!abby x trainee!reader

warnings and disclaimers included the following

## content of sexual wlw content [mdni 18+], a slight cameo of ellie williams and joel miller, a classic frenemies with ellie pie and abby bear, a mention of parental death, a mention of male genitalia, smut with somewhat plot, softdom!abby, sorta loser!abby (cutie pie), sub!reader, public sex (break room of coffee shop), usage of petnames (pretty girl), praising, orgasm denial (once), fingering, nipple play, cunnilingus, face sitting, cum eating, aftercare (fucking finally i write some), strong language.

barista!abby who’s also a student in business dreams of opening her own coffee shop in aspiration of honoring her father and love for books.

barista!abby who argues that she’s killing two birds with one stone since she’s building skill and working for her degree.

barista!abby whose such a SHOW OFF in front of girls she finds attractive, it so feeds into her ego when it works, and the girls are all ogling over her mastery at coffee art. yeah, it’s totally not the arms that are doing it for them.

barista!abby who hates that little red or whatever color haired fuck, ellie. the two have curated non-verbally a competition on basically whose dick is bigger. who makes the best batch, who makes this, who makes that. it’s never ending with these two.

barista!abby who’s convinced ellie in another lifetime was a king’s jester with her profound tricks that amused no one, but herself. the tricks themselves could threatened the woman’s head off alone, finding herself in a fetal position, in a pit of her own laughter. when abby eagerly sits on a unsuspecting “prize” during lunch, only to hear what can be described as a gust of wind. her flushed countenance instantly transformed into anger when the palm of her hand held a whoopee cushion.

barista!abby who went so warm when she saw you talking to the manager after ellie confirmed you were a new employee that if you stuck a thermometer under her tongue in that moment, it’d earn a hospital visit. and with ellie on sidelines teasing her for the state she’s in wasnt helping, unnecessarily quoting if she’s under weather, then rain on your home.

barista!abby who at the end of your shift on your first day surprised you with a free pastry as a warm, warm welcome. a small gesture, unfortunately, came with the price of a dispute with her boss, and money taken out of her week’s pay. amidst said scolding, a surprising opportunity came up. a good one at that, to train you at the expense of ellie’s days off of work to visit in her father, joel in their hometown, wyoming. despite the fact that she hardly listened after the inviting words of you, buzzed her mind with endless possibilities. it had her practically salivating at the numerous scenarios swirling around in her head.

barista!abby who’s a few weeks into training you, was losing her MIND over the taunting questions of you flirting or not. the causal strokes of your fingertips against her biceps alone were making the job harder. she had to get to the bottom of this, and like a detective corner you and have you plead for mercy.

barista!abby who, with an ironic twist, was usually consumed with thoughts, now found her mind solely preoccupied with you. her gaze fixed on the firm grip you maintained on the wooden handle, watching how your movements harmonized with its every swing as you rigorously mopped the floor. the purpose once held by the rag now seemed inconsequential as she leaned against the counter, arms folded, absentmindedly chewing on her lip. she imagined those hands of yours grasping onto her with the same unwavering hold they wielded when she stretched you out.

"take a picture, it'll last longer." you quipped, confidence resonating in your tone, and looking over your shoulder to show off the smirk that truly sells it. you knew she had been watching the entire time, and now had the satisfaction of catching in her act. she scoffed lightly, attempting to cover up her evident embarrassment, clearly trying to play it off.

“my phone’s in the locker, care to help?” she taunts.

barista!abby who watches you, utterly mesmerized by your frenzied movements against her fingers, pinned against the locker, using your hands as support to hold yourself up. the sounds you emitted resembled a blender running at full speed, loud enough to reach the nation if anyone had been nearby. thank god, it was just the two of you for the closing shift, dissipating the risk of scaring any customers away.

her ring and middle finger slid diligently in and out of you, while her right hand teased your hardened nipple between her pointer and thumb. her chin rests on your shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses on the bruises that dotted your neck. the gorgeous blues remained fixed on your mouth, agape to let her hear the sweet sounds of your pleasure. the corners of her lips curl into a satisfied smirk as she watched you tremble at the touch of her curling fingers on your g-spot.

abby's precise movements brought you closer and closer to the brink, the sensation was almost too much to bear. but just as you were about to succumb to the pleasure, her fingers slipped from your grasp. confused and frustrated, you’re flipped onto your back against the metal, meeting the gaze of the master puppeteer.

"you think i’m was gonna let you come and not see this gorgeous face?" she teased, admiring your disheveled state.

you frowned in protest, "i was just about to cum, asshole."

"careful, or you won't at all." she warned, taking your hand and leading you to a bench nearby. "sit on my face, pretty girl. no holding back." she commanded, her eyes filled with anticipation.

this time, with no complaints, you willingly complied with this new plan. abby's capable hands gripped the plush of your thighs, guiding you down onto her waiting mouth. the moment her tongue made contact, a moan tore itself from your larynx as a newfound sensation washes over you. your hand streams through her mane, tugging at the strands as she laps through your petal soft lips.

your hip, limited to their range of motion, rut back and forth against her prominent features, your body orchestrating itself towards it’s imminent. it wasn't long before the tension building in your abdomen snapped, sending you through the throes of your orgasm. your release painting the lower half of her face.

talk about a clean up in aisle seven!

barista!abby who makes sure you’re beyond comfortable, delicate caresses and praises when taking care of you. she, even going the extra mile, makes you hot coco, watching the liquid slosh within the mug, as she approaches you with a soft “there you go.” in response, you flash a smile and gratitude. she stood there, hands on her hips, observing you savor the drink. a grin tugging at her lips as she took in the sight of her oversized jacket draped over your shoulders.

intrigued by her smile, you raise an eyebrow and playfully inquire, "hey, what’s got you smiling over there?"

she chuckles softly, a light hue of pink painting her cheeks as her gaze momentarily wavers. looking everywhere but you, she brushes it off with a scoff, scratching her cheek. “nothing, just…” there's a brief sight of contemplation before she inevitably hesitates, shaking her head with a sigh. "nothing, forget it.” she dismisses.

you let out a hearty laugh, setting your mug aside. leaning forward playfully, you tease gently. "are you really going shy on me? like werent you just eating me out a second ago.“ a smirk adorning your features as you tilt your head.

her smile grows nervous, scratching the back of her neck as her blush deepens. mumbling a curse under her breath, she gathers the courage to ask, "i was just wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me?"

i’ll let you be the judge of that. part two?

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED !

PERMANENT TAGLIST, @dyk3ang3l, @elliesprettygirl, @les4elliewilliams, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @marsworlddd, @bready101, @abbysleftbicepp, @airenaa, @caraphernellie, @astralnymphh, @whore87, @kaiilectric, @sapphicontherun, @mikellie, @nihilisticangelbby, @be3flow3r, @ppuussyyy, @clairoscharm, @lvlymicha, @brackishkittie, @loveyru, @drunkonnatasha, @leosw0rld, @visupremacysstuff

[r3starttt]

OBLIVIATE | 01

ellabs x reader | series m.list | > CHAPTER TWO

CW: modern!au. +18 content. poly relationship. POC friendly. | dom! ellabs x sub! reader. college encounter (study session). praising. overstim. edging. threesome. finger sucking. fingering.

SUMMARY: College life quickly became overwhelming with drunken teens, constant disruptions, and the flaunting of wealth, pushing you to prefer solitude until you found yourself striving for perfection, craving approval, and immersing yourself in that lifestyle despite initially finding it insufferable. As summer break approached, exam stress mounted, but hey, now you've got some help.

CHERRY COLOURED FUNK

You were born to be perfect. So were they. Perhaps that's why you bonded so effortlessly.

The day was warm, and all you could think about was reaching your dorm, meeting your roommate, and escaping the suffocating presence of your family. A bunch of privileged stupid individuals who brought you to this esteemed institution just to counter anyone who dared to question their, and soon your, intellectual superiority by flaunting your attendance at a very prestigious college.

Two kisses, one on each cheek. Your mother's final words were, "Don't take any of this too seriously." Little did she know what lay ahead. In fact, little did you know too.

Your room was dull, far more formal than you had anticipated. Sunlight streamed through the plain brown curtains. It felt a bit suffocating even.

Voices echoed from all directions, all comming from what seemed like the main garden.

One voice in particular caught your attention as you peeked through the curtains.

A tall blonde girl stood out, a sweater draped over her shoulders with its arms knotted in front of her chest. She wore a brown t-shirt that clung to her toned frame and a pair of vintage jeans.

Beside her was a shorter auburn-haired girl, a cigarette in hand. Her attire was less conservative.

Even from their hairstyles, you could tell which one came from a rich family and which one didn't care about it. the blonde had her hair neatly braided; the other sported a messy bun.

You met the blonde's eyes, her grou still talking and laughing ridiculously loud. She murmured something to the girl on her side. You could tell she wanted to look too.

You closed the curtains, hoping the day would end quickly.

-

One week into college, you were already overwhelmed. Drunken teens roamed everywhere, not even the fun kind. There was constant joking and bossing around. Classes were frequently interrupted by wealthy kids flaunting their impunity. 'I'm the reason you have a job'

That's one of the main reasons so far you've decided to stay on your own. Having private aproachments with some teachers at the end or beggining of the class, making sure they knew you. Also making yourself comfortable in the library, religiously before going back to your dorm to sleep.

"Is this seat taken?" You barely heard the question, too absorbed in the music playing through your headphones. You shook your head, moving your chair and books to make space for whoever wanted to sit next to you, in the nearly empty library. Guess the luck was over.

As you took your headphones off you immediately recognized who they were. Have you got yourself in trouble just by looking at them?

"We wanted to approach to you since the first day, but you always seem busy" the blonde one spoke. She seemed quite sophisticated, from the way she talked to the way she sat. It did a nice contrast with her appearance, built and big.

"She's been kind of stalking you." The auburn sitting in front of you both spoke. She looked like the type of girl everyone wants to be friend with. And maybe she was considering she had got herself way too comfortable with you already. Teasing and moving her legs over the chair.

The girl next to you simply rolled her eyes, clearly embarrassed by the not so fake admission.

"So, I'm Abby... uhm, Anderson. And she's—" the auburn interrupted, introducing herself "Ellie"

"Williams" Abby finished for her.

-

Months went by after that first interaction.

You realized that the only way to be perfect in your parents' eyes was to embrace this lifestyle, which was probably the only reason you gave them a chance on the first place.

But it all turned into an obsession. You craved perfection, setting impossible standards for yourself and others that you felt like achieving, and desperately needed everyone's approval. More specificly, Abby's and Ellie's approval.

So you spent days and nights with them and their friends, sitting on their laps so they could show you off. Letting them put their hands on your waist or in the back pocket of your jeans whenever you walked.

Going to parties with them, getting drunk, and hating yourself for every drop of alcohol that entered your body, knowing you had class the next day.

At first, it was insufferable. Yet it didn't take long for you to adjust.

You started to understand why rich kids acted the way they did. The more time you spent with them, the more you enjoyed it.

You convinced yourself there could never be a better thing than partying until you vomited and making out with the girls you trusted most. You somehow felt safe.

You also realized that the only way to be perfect in your parents' eyes was to embrace this lifestyle, which was probably the only reason you gave them a chance on the first place.

-

Summer break was closer each day and you needed them attached, so far everything was about study sessions, breaks to eat together or rest. Exam season was a nuisance you didn't quite contemplate and you needed to get the job done.

Heavy eyelids stared unfocused at the floor of your dorm. underneath your bed a dark red rug being graced by your suck covered feet. dancing along the fabric.

Ellie was sitting on the floor, already reading through a study guide you had made. She had her head resting on her knee, her eyes scanning the paper spread out on the floor and her pencil on her mouth. A hum escaped her lips as she wrote down what seemed like the answer.

It was the first time you ever accepted their help. Probably the first time you've let them in your dorm, at least sober.

Abby, beside having you comfortably sitting on her, had her glasses on, reading what seemed like theory for another subject. She didn't really need to study much but there was nothing else to do if Ellie was the genius here. Plus she barely got the note to pass that subject last year.

"What's exactly troubling you?" Ellies voice broke your trance.

What really was troubling you wasn't something you could just say out loud. You knew why Abby was here, and it bothered you. Were you ready for this? For them?

You turned your head towards Ellie, processing her words before answering, "uhh I don't- how're you supposed to do-" you gently brushed abbys hand off your waist, sitting next to ellie and pointing to the part of the process you've got lost on.

Abby didn't hesitate, simply gibing your hip a soft squeeze. But you could feel her looking at you, then looking at Ellie and again at her book.

You spent at least the next 8 hours doing exercise over exercise nonstop. Until your eyes felt heavy and your back could barely hold your head up. You needed a break.

You decided to take a look at Abby once Ellie stood up to grab something to eat. It was cheesy of you, but knowing she liked to constantly chew on something, you had bought a few gummies for her.

Abby knew just by the look on your face that you needed something. "Come here," she said, patting her lap.

Her action elicted a smile on you, sheepishly standing from where you had all day sitting. Your bare foot made the wooden floor crack at each step you took closer to Abby.

"You're taking break?" She spoke soothingly to your ear. Taking her glasses off and widening her legs so you could comfortably swing your legs in between hers. You nodded

Her hand patted on the side next to you, confused you shifted your gaze towards the matresss. Ellie came from behind you, grabbing your waist briefly before sitting next to you. You could hear her chewing.

"Don't get to overwhelmed yeah? So far you've done good, and-" Abby's fingers intertwined with yours, dragging your hand to her lips and leaving a soft kiss against your knuckles. "Ellie's gonna be there for you"

Her words did make you forget about your worries for a moment. But you knew if you failed any exam, you'll be proving your family you were just like them, you'll be making them pay a ridiculous amount of money to pretend nothing ever happened. And you could allow yourself that.

"Hey" Ellie spoke, her hand resting on your shoulder "Abby's right, don't overhtink it, yeah?"

You pressed your lips together. Unable to brush your thoughts away. "Let her help you" instictively your eyebrows furrowed at Ellie's words.

Her eyes met Abby's, followed by your own, just now realizing what she meant. "Fucking horny, Ellie" you laughed it off.

Abby kissed you first. It wasn't the first time she did. But you knew this was different. Ellie, as usual, just followed.

's okay if you don't want to' Ellie whispered. Her hands underneath your shirt as you had your back pressed against her chest. Abby had her lips against your neck, her hands gripping at the flesh on your thighs.

"We're taking a break, right?" You replied, making her smile grow. She hummed in agreement, leaving a trail of wet kisses on the other side of your neck.

"Lay down" Abby spoke between kisses. You had to push Ellie away to obbey her order. You could tell by how her breath hitched and how hungrily she pressed her lips against your skin. Ellie had probably dreamt about this.

Both grabbed each side of your body, laying on their respective sides. Abby's fingers dragging your leg bettwen her own making sure you couldn't move it. Ellie did the same with the opposite one.

Her hands desperately took your shirt off, undoing your jeans and making enough space in between your legs.

You were ridiculously wet already. Feeling abby trace her fingers along your chest, moving your bra underneath your breasts.

Her fingers toyed with your nipple, her teeth against your skin. Ellie kept on sucking at your other breast with such hunger she had already made a mess, her kisses sloppy and wet.

Abby trailed a path down your stomach. Feeling every inch of your skin until she got to the hem of your panties.

Her eyes hadn't missed a single reaction of yours. Your head pressed against the matress, wanting to close your leg; aching for the smallest friction against your clit. And she was willing to give her girl just what she wanted.

"Ellie" Abby mutters, making her turn her attention to her. Just with the look on her eyes, Ellie understood.

Her hands moved under Abby's, chuckling against your skin "You're so wet" your breath hitched at her words. The feeling itself. It was all too overwhelming.

Ellie made sure to rub her fingers against your clothet core. Pressing over it, feeling your arousal grow at every move Abby made against your clit.

Your lips let out pleads to both, their names comming out in a shaky acute tone.

"Shhh you can take more babe" Ellie coos. Your answer being interrupted by Abby abruptly taking her hand off your clit.

Her now wet fingers gently tugging at your hardened nipple again, pinching such sensitive bud between her fingers. 

"Keep them wide for me, yeah?" Ellie's lips pressed against yours before you felt her fingers inside your underwear.

She starts slow, harshly rubbing circles over your clit. Abby's fingers travelling to your mouth to keep you shut, her mouth licking on your skin, eventually letting out gentle praises for you. 'such a good girl'

You moan and whine, gaging on her fingers. "Doing so good for us" Abby whispers, meeting your face. She looked so proud, seeing you all fucked up, your pretty lips around her fingers.

And you suddenly joint. Ellie's fingers inside you already, thrusting your core with ease. "Hear that" Ellie remarks shaking her hand in disbilief, Abby laughs with her, mocking you and how desperate you've got for them. "So wet, huh?"

The grip Abby had on your stomach looses, feeling her hands slowly sliding down on your clit, toying with it again at an unsteady peace, slowing down each time she hears your breath go faster, every time she sees your stomach clenching or whenever she feels you pulsating.

You shut your eyes close, unable to do anything else than let yourself get drunk on pleasure.

Ellie's whines overlap with your own. Feeling herself grow wet at each thrust she makes on your cunt. Feeling you clench around her, feeling your arousal making a mess on her hand.

"You can take it baby" just hearing Abby's voice makes you want to sob. "P-Please" you whine, your hands clenching around nothing, feeling yourself closer to the orgasm you so much desire.

"Oh you're gonna cum for us?" Abby coos. Smiling at your breathless cries. "She's so close" Ellie murmurs, feeling your walls tight around her fingers.

"Y-Yeah" your eyebrows knitted together as Ellie's thrusts became erratic. Abbys fingers still overstimulating your puffy clit, scissoring your folds just to not give you all the pleasure.

You cry as you reach your climax, feeling a warm hand against your cheek. "Shh shh"

Their hands tease you just a few seconds after you've reached your high. Feeling you shake underneath them. Your thighs jumping one last time before they let go.

Your eyes open, noticing your erratic breath show underneath your falling chest.

Ellie's fingers move with ease toward Abby's lips, and she simply takes them, licking your arousal off her hand.

"Fuck" you breath out, resting your head against the matress again, laying between them.

Reblogs and Comments very much appreciated!!!

- taglist: @softlysunrays @eyesfullofsttars <33 | @cowboylu @ennabear @satellitespinner @flowrmoth @tohoko @bambishaven @luciaaa-aa @be3flow3r @f4riedimples

[chappellroansdreamgirl]

abby taking care of her gf's hair 4 her <3333333 .

author's note - just took my fuckin' braids out after almost a month and i am daydreaming about abby anderson. (what's new i know...)

content warnings - just fluff, explicit black reader.

-------------------------------------------------------

- on days you're going to get your hair braided, abby sends you off with a lil basket full of your favorite snacks and some essentials that you'll need for the day cause you both know that you're not coming home soon.

- sends u messages throughout the day asking for updates: "Can I see now???" , "babe we're still parting😭" . you don't let her see until you get home and she gets so happy. "you look so pretty, sweet girl." she won't stop telling you that until you fall asleep.

- if you have a sensitive scalp (like me...) , this white girl got that scalp oil STACKED, SHE'S NOT PLAYING. she gave that hair store worker hell, probably was in there for about an hour overanalyzing the ingredients and trying to remember if you were allergic to any of the substances that were in the jar. if you're tapping at your braids, she's so quick to get that shit out, massaging it carefully into your scalp, making sure not to mess anything up that didn't need to be touched. she knows how much effort is put in to having nice hair, and she treats yours with ten times the love she puts into her own.

- definitely learned how to take them out for you so you didn't have to do them all by yourself. by the time they're all out, you both are so tired but she's already getting up to start your shower and laying out your hair products you'll need afterwards. (ABBY BABY I LOVE YOU, MY PRECIOUS GIRL.) if you don't want to do it yourself, she's more than happy to comb out your hair, handling your texture with care as she gets knot after knot out with her skilled fingers.

- scalp massages are a must, she never feels like she's done enough until she's able to bring her hands into your hair and rub the lightest of circles onto your scalp.

- when you're braiding your own hair for maintenance, she'll just sit there and admire you with hearts in her eyes. if you let her, she'll lay in your lap and hand you whatever you need, always happy to be of help.

- abby anderson worships you and the sacredness that comes with your hair. she'll always be honored to be trusted with it, and with you<3 .

[inf3ct3dd]

streamer!ellie pt.2

summary: i hated the other one of this that i made, so REMAKE TIEM!!!

warnings: miiinor sexual content, shit talking, gay people 😒

authors note: heheheh ples don’t flop this time..

- during her faceless days, she opened up a po box so ppl could send her things, and she made an amazon wishlist and she unboxed stuff on stream 😍😍

- one day she was unboxing a giant box of cat toys. string, those little feather stick things, even that weird automatic flapping fish thing (that she secretly loves and taped to her back one time)

- she was playing with this one toy that was a little fishing reel, and it had string and a little fish on the bottom. she went on and onnn about how shes a self proclaimed “fishing master” while garf chased it around, letting out little meows and growls of frustration.

- eventually, she lost her grip and let go of the pole. she bent down to pick it up, forgetting that her face would be in view. thus, the chat started blowing up.

ewwwbruh: FACE REVEAL

ewwife: EW WE CAN SEE UR FACE

ewwife: JUST THE SIDE BUT WE CAN SEE YOUU

ewssidechick: her nose looks so rideable…

- she got distracted petting garfield, and didn’t realize anything until she stood up. she was getting tagged over and over again on twitter, blurry pictures of her face (curtesy of the shitty webcam) circulating through her subreddit.

- “guys. im gonna erase this from ur memory…” and she literally held up this goofy ass hypnotizer pendelum and started fake hypnotizing everyone like “that never happenedddd” “you don’t know what i look likeeee” “that was fakeeee” “chat that was not reallll”

- and everyone literally js went along with it and pretended it never happened. like ppl were tweeting about it and everyone was like “huh??? what are u talking about bruh??”

- she did the same thing after falling off her rainbow unicorn scooter 😞

- one time she revealed that the “ew” in her username stood for her initials, and everyone was making the most horrendous guesses. elliam willace being the favorite one.

- “guys, my name is not edward wilson??? i am…not a man”

- shes gotten into so much drama…multiple notes app apologies have been issued via her instagram story.

- people would ask her opinions on other streamers, and she’d literally just be like “…i have no idea who that is.” and people would get so MADDDD but homegirl is literally just blatantly unaware

- or she would know , and would literally be like “they’re honestly super annoying and i would rather kill myself than watch them but whatever floats ur boat ig!”

- she played that “womp womp womp womppp” sound effect on her soundboard afterwards.

- SPEAKING OF. she abuses that soundboard sooo much. its so obnoxious and annoying like I SWEARRR!!! she’ll tell a horrible pun and play the crowd laughing and cheering sound effects while literally no one laughed.

“guys. whats the best way to watch a fly fishing tournament??”

“…live streaming.”

(crowd cheering sound effect)

“nooo thank you thank you, you’re all too kind, really!!”

- meanwhile chat was dead silent.

- every time she gets to choose her own name on a game its some dumb shit like "jizzmaster" or "chris fucker"

- “it appears you have entered innapropriate content.” “OHHH LOOK AT EPISODE LOOK AT THESE CORPORATE BIGWIGS TRYING TO CONTROL THE LITTLE MAN???”

- she just ended up naming him “chris phucker”

- like when she played episode on stream and made up really annoying voices for all the characters and made her character look like an elderly man, and made the love interest look like you 😍😍

- she messes up sm on games when she streams normally, but when you're there? she is LOCKED THE FUCK IN. sitting there so focused the entire time just to show off

- whenever she randomly goes silent she just starts SINGING. it's either nicki minaj or some fucking fnaf song

"IS THIS THE THANKS THAT I GET FOR PUTTING U BITCHES ON???"

- speaking of, her favorite fnaf song is def “stay calm” cuz she loves saying “hey kids. Nice to eat ya.”

- bought one of those "i paused my game to be here" tshirts…ironically. you refuse to let her wear it in public

- beefs w kids on fortnite sm... she has definitely gotten banned for saying she was gonna bomb a kids house or fuck their mom 😞

- every time she plays a game, she'll literally sit there and watch an 8 hour long video about the lore. she'll plop down on the couch and watch it like a movie

"did you know everyone actually thought that fnaf one took place in 1993, but it was actually 1992?"

- she definitely had you sit next to her when she played through fnaf because she was lowk scared the entire time whenever she heard you walking around the house while she was playing she'd hear footsteps in the hallway and be like. WHAT THE FUCKKK

-she'd have you right next to her, laying your head on her shoulder and messing with her free hand. if you fell asleep, she would be sitting there slapping her hand over her mouth whenever she gets jumpscared bc she doesn't want you to wake up 😞

- sometimes, while she streams , she plays one handed games and lets you sit and draw on her arm for fun. even got you a whole set of those skin markers so u could go ABSOLUTELY HAM. she got one drawing you did that said “r + e 4eva” tattooed in ur handwriting…such a sap

- she loves watching fan edits of herself...AND OF YOU. she'll be on her burner account with a whole collection on tiktok of edits of you.

ewwsbiggestfan: shes so bad i want her to hit me w her car...

- speaking of. imagine her using that account to make shitty capcut edits of you like

- shes ur biggest fan ongod

-WHILE WE’RE ON THE TOPIC OF “fans”…what if i made a completely new origin story for streamer!ellie and reader. what if they were both streamers….

- OKAY SO BASICALLY.

- you had started streaming about a year before ellie did. butttt, you two did very different types of streaming.

- you weren’t very into like, SERIOUS video games. sure, you played some stuff, like animal crossing and roblox and the sims, but nothing more than that.

- that wasn’t what you were streaming though.

- ever since you were younger, you had been wayyyy into…literature.

-by literature i mean fanfiction. heaps of it.

- actors, anime characters, BOOK CHARACTERS, you were in DEEP

- sometimes, for fun, you used to read them out loud in stupid voices. when you were alone, or with your friends, it was very entertaining

- that’s when you got the idea to start streaming it. if it could entertain your friends, and you, whos to say it wouldn’t entertain other people.

- well, it definitely did. in your first year, you hit 10k followers. people loved you. theyd make edits of you, send in requests of fics for you to read, everything.

- a while later, ellie started gaining more and more popularity. out of all the incomes of fame, fanfiction was the most. abundant!

- one day, you got a request to read an ellie x reader fic. at the time, you barely had any idea who she was, but you decided to just go with it 🤞🏽

- “who the fuck is elliam willace???”

- the fanfic was definitely very…graphic!

- “your hips rolled onto her thigh, her slender, tattooed hand palming at your waist. ‘you’re doing so good babe, fuck.’-“ “GUYS. ISN’T SHE NOT ON MUTE RIGHT NOW???”

- you couldn’t help but giggle the rest of the fic, feeling a nagging heat in your core. you didn’t even know who the girl was, but if this fic was accurate, someone would have to sedate you.

-“im actually. gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure. GUYS. who is this woman…is she real… if she is. things are about to get WICKED.”

- not very thankful to you at the moment, she was very real. apparently, you and her were streaming at the same time, and your followers raided her stream telling her she was reading about you. her curiosity was obviously piqued, and why would she NOT join the stream?

- creeperewman: im definitely real!

- the text on your screen literally made your stomach fall into your ass. you stood up and legit just walked out of the room, camera still on. was she there the whole time???

- creeperewman: aww 😞 where’d she go she’s so badddd

- you eventually returned after a minute of calming yourself down, and low and behold, she gifted you 100 subs and followed you on instagram.

- she was definitely very real!! and that fanfic was…lore accurate. to say the least 😊

- after you two started dating, the two of you would often show up on eachothers streams. ellie, teaching you how to play cod, and you, reading with her.

- she secretly loves reading the fics people write about her and making fun of them, and every time you stream with her shes “subtly” hinting that you should read about her

sitting there pulling on her collar, looking away like “gee, wonder who you’re gonna pick today” with the worst fake laugh ever.

- “ellie can barely ride a scooter, idk why she’s in the mafia rn…” “you fall off ONE TIME and all of a sudden you cant ride a scooter. bullshit.”

- she makes fun of all the dumb pet names like “babygirl” and “darling” and randomly calls you them and bursts out laughing

- you still read those fics when you’re bored sometimes. and ellie MERCILESSLY makes fun of you for it

“yknow, if you missed me that bad, you should’ve just told me.”

[flor4de4amor]

hockey!abby with the reader being her biggest fan prompt 🫣🫣

click for palestine | boycott tlou!!! | read b4 engaging w me

ok i changed the prompt up a little bit again, but i promisseeeee it's the last time!!!! (it's probably not but shh!!)

you’re almost at every single one of abby’s games. it’s always easy for her to spot you. you’re sectioned off in the front, in one of her old hoodies. at any free moment she has on the ice, abby skates by your section, blowing a kiss, that you eagerly pretend to catch. 

but the key word is almost. this is one of the few games you’ve missed since you and abby have been going steady. even when she used to play college hockey, and you had a silly little crush on her, you’d do your best to show up at the games. hiding somewhere in the back row of watchers, but still keeping an eye out for your favorite player. 

your absence was definitely noted this game. abby had been missing shots, which was quite unusual for her. her teammates teasing her, asking if she needed her good luck charm. to which her answer is yes. a resounding, bolded, large, all caps, yes. 

who was she gonna blow kisses to? who was gonna come rub her back in the locker room after the game? williams better not try it. abby’ll bite her head off, and you’ll never hear the last of it. abby can’t remember the last time she’s played without you watching. you’re her favorite trophy to show off. all pretty, with a wide smile, and gorgeous for her to brandish for anyone who’ll listen. 

the game is rough, for a lack of better words. the team loses,by a lot. too much for abby’s liking. she drives home, her fist pounding her steering wheel. occasionally at a red light while releasing anger onto the battered wheel, she hits the horn. stirring her from the storm of anger, and causing a cluster of horns following hers. the cars are speaking for their agitated drivers. abby sighs as she pulls into your shared driveway. the last thing she wants to hear you say is that you watched the game.

she sees your blurred frame on the couch through the window film of the front door. she sees you jolt up as her keys jingle through the hole, unlocking the door. you sit up drowsily, your nose agitated as you’ve been blowing it through the better half of the week. flu season had captured you as it’s latest victim.

“i saw the game baby,” you say with a raspy throat and nasally voice. abby sighs, and allows her head to hang to the floor. she should’ve known better paying for the extra hulu subscription. of course you’d use it. she’s mentally kicking herself. “you played really good baby,” you tell her sitting half up wrapped up in your favorite blanket.

she snorts, “sure,” she replies sarcastically.

“i’d kiss you better but i’m so sick right now, lovie.” you blow her a ton of kisses with your hands, though your dominant limb clutches an array of crumpled tissues.

she catches them, pulling them to her heart. “you miss one game and you’re stealing all my moves?” she raises her eyebrow at you.

you toss your hand at her dismissively. “i’m allowed,” you say with a playful closed lip smile. 

“one kiss won’t hurt me,” abby rolls her eyes. pressing a soft one on your forehead, and another to the corner of your mouth. “i’ve built up my immune system,” she tells you offhandedly. “ate dirt when i was a kid,” she laughs to herself. bullshit, but, whatever. “so you saw the game?” she fiddles with her thumbs, and avoids eye contact for a minute. when talking about her sport, this was when you’d catch abby at some of her most vulnerable.

“uhuh,” you tell her after catching a sneeze into the corner of your forearm. “‘scuse me,” you mumble.

“you’re ‘scused pretty,” abby replies while waiting for a further in depth answer than ‘uhuh.’

“you did such a good job baby,” you smile at her tiredly. “you shouldn’t beat yourself up too much. you really can’t win them all.”

“that’s insulting,” she smiles at you. “i definitely can. i just need my good luck charm.”

“i don’t do not a thing. it’s all you on the ice abs. don’t give me too much credit,” you say before having a slew of coughs.

“hey,” abby says putting a stern mask in her voice, “don’t pick on my favorite groupie now,” she burst out into laughter.

“i won’t make a habit of it, if you can make me some hot tea. my throat’s killing me.” abby nods her head, kissing your forehead once more and setting the kettle up. who was she to even deny her biggest fan, same one who stayed up late watching her girl’s game on her deathbed? abby’s mean, but not a monster. 

[snowy-vee]

Calling my girlfriend ‘Wife’

INDEX

As always, the inside of the car was the background of your videos as you placed the phone in the holder making sure you both looked okay in the camera frame before pressing the red button. Ellie had zero idea what the video was about, you just told her that you were going to make a tiktok and she had to be in it.

“I’ve decided today I’m going to make a dessert for my wife” If she wasn’t paying that much attention, she did now after hearing how you address her “and I’m going to try-”

“Wait, what?” Her smile was from ear to ear and her eyes were glowing “What did you? For who?”

You looked at her “confused” trying to not smile at her cute face “For my wife”

“Who’s your wife?”

“Is it not you? You don’t wanna marry me?”

“I’m your wife?”

“Yeah” you nodded your head.

“Damm. Wait, me? I’m your wife?” She felt so happy that she thought she was hearing wrong, there was no way you just called her your wife, she couldn’t stop smiling even if she tried.

“Dude, okay, let me do my video!” you were laughing as you cut the video and continue it “Okay, so I-”

“You classify me as your wife?” you rolled your eyes biting your lip and muttering a ‘yeah, of course’ at her “I didn’t put a ring on it yet!”

“Are you going to?” you raised your eyebrow and she nodded energetically “Okay, then”

“I’m fucking with that energy! Let’s put it out in the universe” She was giggling as she clanged in your arm swaying it a little bit, making you also giggle with her “That’s been my dream, to marry you”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! Let’s talk about some marriage plans!”

“Propose to me first!” The video ended showing you grabbing the phone and showing a close up of the happiest face you’ve seen Ellie make.

[takemeapart]

fwb to lovers. super short! wrote this quickly but it’s still (mostly) proofread.

modern au. ellie x reader

—

Ellie lays on your chest, her ear right above your heart. You’re both partially unclothed due to fooling around earlier but now you’re cuddled up, legs intertwined under your huge comforter. The steady beat of your heart calms her down some but she still feels anxious. She wants to ask a question that’s been eating at her since shortly after you two started this whole friends with benefits arrangement a month ago.

She knows she doesn’t really have a right to feel jealous. She knows. But it doesn’t stop the ugly feeling from creeping up at the thought of you seeing other people.

Before she can help it, it comes out. “Are you seeing anyone else?” She whispers into the quiet darkness of the room.

She can feel the hand you had raking through her hair stiffen, halting its movement.

“Um… Why do you ask?” You respond, your voice hesitant. Your fingers slowly return to running through her short hair again.

“Curious.” Ellie continues to stay where she’s at, too afraid to see what look you might have on your face. “So?”

She can hear your heartbeat pick up slightly.

“…I am.”

“Oh.” Ellie screws her eyes shut, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. She thought…. Maybe… She actually doesn’t know what she thought. It’s not like she asked to be exclusive but the answer hurts. She thinks she knows why the revelation hurts so bad but she shakes off the thought before she can think too deeply about it. She stays still for a moment, enjoying the warmth of your body before she abruptly sits up. “I have to go.”

She can hear you sit up, your voice laced in confusion as you watch her grab her clothes off the floor. “Wait, why? What’s wrong, El?”

Everything.

“Nothing.” Ellie responds, voice tight, as she hurriedly pulled on her pants.

“Wait.” You crawl near the edge of your bed and reach out for her wrist. Ellie stops at the feel of your warm hand on her, body tense.

You say her name softly and she keeps her eyes forward, refusing to look at you.

You tug her to you, her body in between your legs and your eyes searching her face while she continued to look at everything but you.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask gingerly.

“No.” Ellie says stiffly. “Why would I be mad?” She finally lets her gaze drop to you before looking away again. The way you were looking at her made her feel so vulnerable. She felt like you could probably see right through her. “It’s not like I have any right to be…” She mutters darkly, a frown forming on her face.

“Can you please look at me?” You whisper, tugging at her jeans to get her attention. “Please.” You say lowly.

Ellie looks down at you, her frown still present, waiting for you to say something.

Your cheeks were still a little flushed, your hair mussed up, and your lips still slightly swollen. Ellie felt satisfaction knowing that she was the one who made you look like that but the feeling was short lived when she remembered there was currently someone else out there potentially seeing you like that too.

You looked at her imploringly. “It was one date.”

“Okay.” Ellie resists the strong urge to squirm out of your grasp. She doesn’t really want to hear more.

“Ellie.” You stress, “I’m not sleeping with anyone else but you. And if I was, I would tell you.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to stop seeing them?”

Yes. “You’re your own person, I can’t tell you what to do.” Ellie says gruffly, her eyes leaving yours.

She feels you grab her hand in yours. “Ellie.” She can hear the frown in your voice. “If it bothers you, just tell me.”

Ellie returns her gaze back to your face, searching for something. She bites her lips and briefly closes her eyes in defeat, her shoulders slumping forward. “I’m… sorry. I don’t know why I reacted like that.” Lie. She shakes her head. “I just… I don’t…. really like the thought of you with somebody else.”

“Why?” You press, a certain tone to your voice.

“I just said I don’t know.” She says tightly, getting slightly irritated. Did you want her to make a fool out of herself? Want her to confess just so you could possibly reject her? No thanks.

“Okay.” You say delicately, taking a deep breath. “…Can I confess something?” You ask, your hands toying with her fingers as you gaze up at her.

Ellie gives you a wary look. “…What?”

“I don’t really like the thought of you with somebody else either.”

Ellie feels her heart skip a beat. Although she feels a bit hypocritical, she still asks: “Why?”

“Because I like you.” You said simply.

“Oh.” Ellie blinks. She feels her face flush once your words actually sink in. Her heart feels like it’s going to fall out of her ass. You liked her. You actually liked her. How was it so easy for you to say it? How were you so brave?

You tug her closer, your arms wrapping around her as you press your face into her torso. “So don’t leave.” You mumble into the cotton of her shirt. “Or I’ll be really sad.”

Ellie lets a small smile spread on her lips as she looks down at you. She’s hesistant to fall back into the easy intimacy you two shared but still reaches a hand out to smooth over your hair. “Okay.”

“You didn’t say it back.” You mumble into her chest, tightening your arms around her waist.

Ellie takes a deep breath. If you could be brave, she could be brave too. “I like you too... I…I want to be exclusive.” She whispers nervously.

You pull back, looking up at her. “Okay.”

Wow, that wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. So she presses on, feeling more comfortable and confident in expressing her desires.

“And… I want to take you on a date.”

You smile and Ellie melts. “Okay.”

“And… I want you to be my girlfriend.” Ellie adds, her hand cupping your cheek.

You laugh, placing your hand over hers. “Woah, you’re full of demands today.”

Ellie pouts at you. “Is that a no?” Maybe she pushed her luck with that last request.

You pull her down for a short kiss before pulling away slightly. “Ask me again after our date.” You whisper against her lips.

Ellie bites her lips and nods. At least it’s not a no.

You pull away from her and crawl back under your sheets, patting the spot beside you. “Now take your pants off and get back in here.”

Ellie laughs and kicks off her pants, “Now look who’s making demands.”

“Oh, shut up. I really can’t believe you were going to just run away like that instead of talking to me.”

Ellie lets out an embarrassed groan, crawling in and cuddling into your side. “I was scared. I didn’t think you liked me like that.” She mumbles into your skin.

“Well, I do.”

You two lay in comfortable silence for a moment.

“…I’m happy.” Ellie whispers, her hand sliding under your shirt to clutch at your side.

You kiss her forehead. “I’m happy too.”

[elliewluvr]

my dearest love | ellie williams

pairings: farm!ellie x f!reader

summary: you and ellie have been together for around two years, the two of you in love and living on a farm house together where you both decided to reside due to how dangerous it is in the city.

content warning: 18+ SMUT MDNI, farmhouse, lovers, slight angst, reassurance, gentle, reader receiving, oral, fingering, & praising

dont purchase tlou2! support palestine 🇵🇸

—— <3

the day started off the same as always, you waking up to change the baby and straighten up the bedroom you all shared, the floorboards creaking quietly as you tiptoed around the house.

the sound of the birds chirping and the grass swaying through the wind hitting your ears each time you passed the windows that were open in substitute to air conditioning. you laid your baby down in their crib who remained sleeping despite the changing of their diaper.

you smiled, looking down the chunky little baby whose tiny lips were slightly parted from sleeping so well. one of your hands gliding over the tiny human’s face.

after an swift while of analyzing the creation you made, you tucked your baby underneath the blanket to begin picking up any clothes you found from the day before.

your hands tossing them into the clothing bin to be washed and strung outside to dry later. after that, you headed downstairs as subtle as you could to start making breakfast.

humming to yourself while you cracked and scrambled four eggs that were freshly taken from the chickens hen the night before. you thought to yourself for a moment, mind completely blurred. 

you shivered as you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind, goosebumps coating your skin while you were immediately knocked from out your thoughts, a gentle peck being placed on the left side of your neck.

“goodmorning, howd you sleep?” you heard your lover say, her voice slightly raspy while she gently rubbed her fingertips over your hips. you let you head fall back onto her shoulder, the feeling making you sigh in relief.

“i slept well, thanks to you.. i missed you so much.” you said before turning around to face her, wrapping your arms around her neck while smiling happily at the sight of her, her shoulder length hair a bit messy as her pale green eyes glistened in the sunlight that peeked throughout the kitchen ever so beautifully.

despite ellie being home now, she wasnt a few weeks ago. tommy heading over to update her on the new information he found on abby. as much as you hated the thought of her leaving, you allowed it. tears were shed everyday before she returned.

the thought of leaving to find her crossed your mind far too many times but you listened to her, trusting that she’d be back soon enough and the one day you packed up your bookbag and grabbed your weapons with your baby strapped to your chest, there she was at the front door.

ellie was in shock, not expecting you to be so eager and impatient to find her. that alone making her happy but also a bit sad as she wouldn’t even know what to do if you and you guy’s baby gotten hurt or into some deep shit.

you ran a hand over her auburn hair before tilting your head at her, “no need to miss me, im here now. i dont plan on leaving any longer.” she said, her eyes traveling from your irises to your lips a few times.

“im glad, ‘cant be without you.” you said in response, leaning forward to place a soft but long peck onto her lips. ellie let out a hum into the kiss, her hands gliding over your lower back and waist gently.

you furrowed your eyebrows in awe, pulling her closer to you as the kiss progressively grew more and more passionate. your feet stumbling back as you were met with the counter that was conventionally behind you.

you gasped, feeling the cool wood graze your hips while ellies hands massaged and groped your soft and smooth skin, her breathing hitching a bit the more she leaned into you.

ellie pulled away to make her way to your neck, your head falling back once again while you felt yourself tremble from the feeling of her soft lips immediately and directly hitting your sweet spot, “f.. fuck, ellie.. dont.” you mumbled softly.

you whined, feeling her place an knee between your thighs that were trembling. she always knew what to do to get you pooling your panties with your wetness.

“its been so long.. please.” she said softly against your skin before pulling away to look at you with now pink cheeks and lips, her tatted hand lifting to glide down your clothed chest.

“i know.. i want you but im nervous.” you said, letting a breath pass between your lips from the feeling of her gentle fingers passing over your body.

“dont be, i know your body better than ever and ill take my time. i know we haven’t did it since you gave birth but i promise ill treat your body right.” she responded, giving you complete eye contact.

you felt yourself relax, nodding at her words, “then take me.” you said, your breath grazing her lips as she leaned in closely to kiss you once again, enthusiastically deepening it while grabbing your waist.

ellie and you stumbled your way to the living room, her hands landing on the walls and doorframes to keep the two of you steady before collapsing onto the couch, the auburn haired girl landing on top and between your legs.

you felt your body heating up more and more as both of your lips danced around eachother, getting a bit sloppy from the eagerness before feeling ellie pull away to look at you, her eyes low and full of lust.

“take this off..” she mumbled a bit above an whisper, grabbing the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head, exposing your bare stomach and breasts that immediately caught her eyes.

she let her eyes pass over your body, every curve catching her attention as she slipped the hairtie holder off of her wrist and lifted her arms to pull half of her hair back into an messy ponytail.

you whined a little, gasping as you felt her fingers immediately play with your nipples, rolling the nubs between her thumb and pointer fingers while she watched your reaction closely, her lips stretching into a smirk.

“does that feel good baby?” she asked, earning a whimper from you, “yes.. please.” you begged, growing desperate and needy for her long slender fingers in your soaked cunt.

“no need to worry, you have me. im just getting you there.” she said, laying a soft kiss on your lips as she reassured you before leaning down to take one of your nipples into her mouth.

“fuck.” you let out, resting the back of your hand over your mouth to keep you from being loud through the quiet house while ellie’s tongue gently rubbed your nipple, sucking it as she pulled away to do the same to the other.

your back arched up from the couch cushions that were under you, the feeling of ellie landing teasing pecks down your stomach made your pussy ache in your panties, “please..”.

she grabbed your waistband and leaned up to yank your shorts and panties off, instantly moaning from the sight of your glistening pussy. “so wet for me.” she mumbled, using one of her hands to rub two fingers between your slit, gaining a whine that passed from your throat quietly.

her large hands readjusted you on the couch, pushing you further up to the armrest where she leaned down between your legs to place soft kisses on your inner thighs as she tucked her slightly muscular arms under your legs to get a better grip on you.

“no more teasing.. i cant take it anymore.” you said softly, gasping as she glided her tongue from your thigh to your pussy, her tongue flattening between your slit to land a long lick from your entrance to your clit.

your eyes shut subconsciously, hearing her hum a bit while flicking her tongue over your desperate clit before sucking the sensitive bud which made you immediately lay a hand over her head to push her deeper between your legs.

this did nothing but encourage ellie, her eyes slowly drifting close from how good you tasted as she pulled away from your pussy with a pop noise, holding your thighs down to flick and rub her tongue back and forth over your clit.

you furrowed your eyebrows, your breathing getting more intense while you sat up to watch her in awe. your eyes growing glossy from how good it felt, thighs already trembling. “oh fuck! ellie!” you moaned out, hips pushing up into her mouth.

ellie hummed in response, lapping her tongue over your clit before swirling the muscle over your cunt sloppily; a long moan dragging from your mouth while your fingers tugged at her ponytail. “you taste so good, baby.” she spoke muffled, face still deep in your pussy.

“dont stop, please! ‘feels too good!” you moaned loudly, throwing your head back once you felt her suck and swirl her tongue over your clit at an quick pace, eyes rolling back in complete awe.

you jerked forward, eyes shutting tightly while your toes began to curl, moans falling from your mouth loudly as you felt yourself grow more hot and flushed than before.

ellie pulled away for a split second to spit her saliva and your juices onto her fingers before pushing them deep into your pussy as she began flicking the tip of her tongue onto the bud of your pussy, fingers curling up into your spot that she always seemed to find.

she took her time, pushing her fingers into you before pulling them halfway out to yank at your spongy sweet spot, your juices soaking her chin while she watched you closely.

you on the other were a mess, body shaking and twitching as you felt your body begin to tremble while your pussy spasmed over her fingers, “i.. if you do that.. mm! ‘gonna make me cum!” you moaned, attempting to push her head away.

her fingers sped up as she watched you through heavy lids, attaching her lips around your bits to start sucking and tugging at your sensitive clit while your body started to tense and the feeling between your thighs grew more intense.

ellie leaned up, continuing to push her fingers in and out of you before rubbing your clit quickly with her free hand, nodding her head slowly in response to you. a smug look forming on her face while she watched your expressions change and alter from every move she made.

“cum for me, let it all out baby. be a good girl and cum for me.” she said, landing a few spanks on your clit as she sped up her fingers and applied a bit more pressure to your clit.

“im gonna cum!..” you let out while your eyes rolled back and your head fell against the arm rest on the couch while your mouth dropped open, juices beginning to flow down your thighs as you started to come undone all over her fingers.

ellie laughed as she twisted her fingers in circles inside of you while she helped fuck you through your orgasm, slapping your clit a few more times. “good girl, you did so well.” she said, slowly pulling her digits out of you to lean up and kiss you sloppily.

you whimpered, panting a bit against her lips. your heart was pounding, body still trembling and pussy now aching from how intense your orgasm was.

a whine passing through your lips and into the kiss from the familiar taste of your pussy hitting your tongue, arms and legs wrapping around ellie to hold her closely.

after an few minutes of kisses and i love you’s both of you pulled away from the sound of your 3 month old crying from upstairs, immediately making ellie lift up off the couch.

“get dressed, ill go get him and dont worry about breakfast. ill cook for us.” ellie said, smiling happily at you before heading upstairs while you began to slip your shorts and shirt back on, smiling as you thought about everything.

“dammit ellie, what am i gonna do with you..”

link 2 my masterlist!

[opt1mistic]

HIGH AND DRY

ellie x reader. warnings: angst, unrequited love, reader is smoking, and also lowek hates herself🤷‍♀️, that’s pretty much it. also not proofread. wc: 0.5k

note: this was originally supposed to be waaaay longer but i got a wee bit scared so i decided to keep it short🙂(and i also didn’t want to write anymore)

there’s something about tonight that makes you want to spill your gut. the way the tiny stars shined from your appartement balcony. the chilly breeze flowing into your face, making your hand wrap around yourself and hold your elbows tight. the smell of the cigarette in between your two fingers was comforting, it brought peace to you. every time you bring the end of the cigarette to your slightly dry lips, the way the smoke filled up your lungs made you feel numb to the thought of losing her.

why were feeling so fucking complicated?

god, the was she look at you, her laugh, her face, everything about her was perfect. she was perfect. and you were sure she thought the same for you, but you just didn’t think you were perfect enough for her. you were always there for her though every break up, through her high and lows. but all you did was push her away when you needs a shoulder to cry on. locking all your feelings away so she couldn’t come and help you. all this pain just because you did want her to leave. you knew if you let her get close to you your feelings would grow bigger and stronger, and you knew it would end up breaking your heart.

but the one time you did need her, of course she was there. oh, how much you hated her for it. the words of “i have feeling for you” leaving your lips. her face staring blank at you. what have you done? you could tell that she didn’t like you back. the way her face morphed into a look of pitty. ellie didn’t what to hurt your feelings by saying no, but she had no other choice.

i mean don’t get her wrong she thought you were really pretty. you were the most amazing person ever. the light of her life. but all she saw you as was a sister. you were her platonic soulmate, in every universe. but was there a universe where you are more then that? plotonic?

you hated yourself for so long for ruining your friendship. seconds before you said thoes words you hoped that she wouldn’t leave you, she was the best thing you ever had, (even if there was nothing romantic about it… to her at least), she was the best thing that ever happened to you. and you ruined it—with something as ‘silly’ as love.

your lips parted, letting up the smoke from your lungs. you shut your eyes are you let all the smoke out, and when you opened your eyes, a few salty tears fall down your cold cheeks, scattering at the top of your chin. each one of those tears carried unspoken words you couldn’t say, everything you’ve been holding back.

snorting back some snot that was threatening to slip from your nose, you reach your free hand to wipe your face free of tears. you put out the cigarette and walked back into your apartment, the scent of smoke and salt still clinging to you, as this night refused to let you ever forget.

©opt1mistic

[pinkwright]

my fave ellie edit rn could literally edge to this