!!!!!!
this is not my typical post so if you don’t wanna hear complaints just scroll please. these are just my initial thoughts of tlou s2 ep2.
tlou hbo is a fucking mess. neil and craig have lost the fucking plot.
the mischaracterization of abby is insane.
-abby going on a fucking rehearsed monologue is so out of character. abby is a woman of few words. holy fucking exposition dump. what happened to show not tell?
-having abby call joel handsome AGAIN, to his face this time. what does that fucking have to do with anything? she would not be saying that about the man who killed her father and dozens of other people she cared about.
-making show abby seem like more of a smug, sadistic villain when in the game we see her being conflicted during the act, realizing hurting joel isn’t satisfying her like she thought it would.
-saying abby’s body doesn’t matter in the show and then making the actress who’s half the size of abby be even stronger than abby is in the game? beating joel to death with her bare hands and breaking golf clubs in half. there’s zero reason they couldn’t give us buff female representation if they were gonna make her do that in the show. it’s actually ridiclous.
-telling mel if she doesn’t knock dina out she’ll “smash her in the fucking head” is not something abby would have said, she’s not mean just for the sake of it. her focus was on joel, not tommy or ellie being there whatsoever. she didn’t give a fuck about them and never ordered her friends to do anything. they handled it in the background themselves.
-no ellie and dina weed den scene???
-no abby waking up and taking a walk with owen scene, are mel and owen even together in the show? is she even pregnant? who fucking knows
-manny kicking ellie??
-oh and then a horde basically destroyed jackson. yay!
What would Sadie Adler be like being the fem!eader's girlfriend? I love she🩵
‧₊˚౨ৎ before the two of you started dating she was unexplainably protective over you. she was already very protective of the gang, leaping into action whenever there was danger. but she always seemed to have her eyes trained on you, watching like a hawk for if you were in any sort of trouble
‧₊˚౨ৎ this only intensifies when she finally gets to call you hers. you were always the first person she’d check on both in and after any danger. she’d rush to your side to protect you and make sure you weren’t too shaken up afterwards. her arm would constantly be wrapped protectively (and possessively) around your waist. when sadie was around you didn’t have to worry about taking shit from anybody, they’d have to go through her first
‧₊˚౨ৎ “you redirect that attitude to me, ‘cause if i hear another word leave that filthy mouth o’ yours, i’ll kill ya.”
‧₊˚౨ৎ she’s very generous with her death threats but to anyone who knows her or has any common sense, they know she’s not joking
‧₊˚౨ৎ despite her harsh exterior and brutal nature, she’s actually a big softie. she’s a fan of mushy pet names, calling you “sweetheart”, “angel”, “pretty girl”, you name it. and she’s not worried about calling you these in front of people. most think she’d shy away from it as she has a reputation for being a bit hot-headed and intimidating. but she holds her own well enough for there to be no doubt about whether she’s truly a threat or not, just for her to then turn around and dote on you like nothing happened
‧₊˚౨ৎ she is very possessive and loves calling you hers. what’s hers is hers and that will be known, every affectionate name having “my” in front of it
‧₊˚౨ৎ loves doing things for you, always talking about how she isn’t a fan of sitting around and not doing much. if she sees miss grimshaw is wearing you rather thin she won’t hesitate to come and take some tasks off of your hands, even though she prefers the more hands on dirty work the gang gets up to. but if it was for you, she’d do just about anything
‧₊˚౨ৎ if you aren’t already able to she’d teach you how to defend yourself, always worrying over what might happen if she’s not around to protect you. the idea of that makes her feel helpless, which she hates, so it brings her some comfort to make sure you’re capable of taking care of yourself if needed
‧₊˚౨ৎ she loves to fluster you. she is absolutely not shy when teaching you how to shoot, pressing herself up against you as she readjusts your posture and gives you directions in that raspy voice of hers. you swear she wants you to start messing up when she whispers a proud, “atta girl,” after a particularly good shot. “my pretty girl’s doin’ so good.”
‧₊˚౨ৎ you are the only person she’ll play the harmonica for. she was very reserved about it at first, nobody but her late husband getting to hear her play. but when she feels herself becoming more at ease with you she’ll occasionally let you stick around while she plays. you of course respect her and her privacy but on days where she can’t bring herself to dismiss your company, she lets you stay
“alright, you can stay, darlin’. but ya can’t laugh if i mess up, okay?”
‧₊˚౨ৎ she is actually very upfront about her feelings. she’s quite openly vulnerable, though she wishes she wasn’t. she’s a tough cookie to break but sees the importance of being honest with you (she’s so applejack coded aaaa) and doesn’t like leaving tension in the air if you’re upset with each other or one of you is going through a hard time
‧₊˚౨ৎ will absolutely spoil you with her bounty hunting money. what better way to spend her time after chasing down crooks than giving you whatever you wanted? it also wouldn’t hurt to give you any shiny trinkets she took from the pockets of her newest catches, they wouldn’t be needing them anyway once they were behind bars
‧₊˚౨ৎ literally the best girlfriend ever, i firmly believe she devotes her every breath to doing right by you <3
a/n: i love sadie sm i wanna write for her more !! i hope you enjoyed :D xoxo
i’m dizzy
warnings: strap on usage (r!receiving), top ellie, bottom reader, overstimulation, bunnygirl reader, afab reader, mentions of reader wearing a skirt. not proof read cause i'm half asleep sooo
"god, fuck– fuck, just like that, baby." ellie moaned as her eyes watched your swollen, sopping pussy suck her strap in deeper for what felt like the thousandth time tonight.
you squealed from your spot below her, your hands meeting her abs in an attempt to push her away. "ellie! shit, babe, it's too much!" you babbled desperately, your legs flailing so much that ellie had to grab your ankles, slamming her hips against yours particularly harshly for almost kicking her in the face.
your ears flopped down on either side of your head, nose scrunching up with every sniffle, "watch what you're doing, bunny." she murmured, pushing your legs up against your chest.
a weak cry tore from your throat, your fluffy cottontail twitching against the mattress. ellie's eyes were fixed on your breasts, leaning down to latch her lips onto one of your sensitive nipples. your hands clawed at her back, giving up on pushing her away.
this was, what, the third orgasm she's pulled from you tonight? you knew there was nothing stopping her. not when you saw the way she was eyeing you in your pretty skirt earlier, watching how your bunny tail peeked out from the little hole you cut through your skirt so it'd be more comfortable for you.
you loved your girlfriend, you really did, and you loved how much she adored your bunny parts too. your exes weren't the most... accepting. but ellie was, and that made you happy.
cut to tonight, you'd lost track of what hour it was, whimpering and scratching her back to try and find some kind of solace.
ellie's teeth grazed your nipple and you cried out, your back arching off the bed. your skirt was bunched up uncomfortably around your hips, making you squirm even more. you wanted to take it off, but ellie just pushed your hands away, muttering "stop tryna ruin my fun, bunny"
the tip of ellie's silicone cock was hitting your cervix with every thrust, and you could just barely take it. your pussy ached, but you couldn't get enough of her cock.
"e-ellie." you stammered out, your pussy tightening around her cock. ellie groaned as if she could feel it, her hands grabbing your hips to ram into you a little easier, "so fuckin' tight around my dick, babe. can feel her squeezing me, tryna keep me inside." she was rambling, burying her face into the crook of your neck.
"she wants me to stay inside, right? wanna stay full of me? til my bunny gets nice and round– oh fuck." the base of her strap bumped against her clit just right, and the idea of breeding you? shit, that just made her so much more desperate. you could feel it in the way her thrusts got a little sloppier, in the way ellie let out whimpers against your skin.
your hands found their way onto her shoulders, nails biting into her skin, little squeaks leaving your mouth like it was all you could bring yourself to do. but you wanted to make her cum, to be a good bunny for her.
"breed me, ellie– ah!" you were barely able to get the words out before her thrusts picked up, her energy somehow coming back full force, having just enough to make herself cum.
ellie's arms circled around your middle, holding you against her as her hips slapped against yours with an obnoxious clap, clap, clap!
she buries her strap to the base inside of you one last time, her whole body twitching and convulsing atop yours. pathetic whimpers tumble from her mouth and spill into the dip of your collarbone along with her drool. the feeling makes your hole clench around her, and you can't help but push her onto her back, sinking down onto her cock one last time.
and fuck, ellie thinks she'll die from how unexpected it was. "m'sorry, ellie, mff!" your nose wrinkles up so adorably, she can't find it in her to be mad at you. even when the base of her strap bumps against her clit with every slow grind of your hips, making her hands grip your hips so tight it'd definitely leave bruises.
she just bit back a whine, because how could she be mad at her pretty bunnygirl bouncing on her cock?
hi guys can we all say thank you half asleep and horny jamie 🤟🤟 (/j)
Arthur never saw himself as someone worthy of love. When he looked into the mirror he saw an old, miserable and pitiful bastard. Self depreciating comments leaving his mouth every time he had to look at his own face.
That’s until you came along. The way you held his face in your hands, almost like it was made of glass. Because it, in a sense, was. You showed him the love he thought he was so undeserving of. And when you brushed your thumb over his sunburned, scarred skin you swear you could see the pain in his eyes. How desperately he wanted to pull away, how he tried to convince himself you need someone who’s better than him. But when your lips brushed against his, call him crazy, he never wanted to let him go.
There were two sides of him, one who pushed you away and one who yearned for your sweet touch. The touch that made him see a future where he’s not six feet underground after a failed robbery. He tried so hard to deny himself the pleasure of your company. But he couldn’t. It was an endless fight within him. But it was alright. Because the way you smiled at him and patted the empty space next to you at the camp made it all go away, even if it was just for the night.
finally back from the dead with a little somethin' for loser!ellie, i hope you enjoy! >.< <3
loser!ellie x popular!reader | 3.2k words
a/n: guess who rewatched bottoms for the billionth time (me. it was me.) :p loser!ellie won't leave my mind and neither will crush by ethel cain so here's somethin' random i came up with, enjoy!
cw: cursing, bullying, a little violence, mentions of blood, two idiots that are obviously infatuated with each other, mentions of reader wanting to punch ellie for being too cute cuz they’re strange like that
you're an angel, she's sure of it.
ellie watches with glassy eyes, practically in a trance, as you absentmindedly play with your hair. she drinks in the way your perfectly curated outfit adorns your body; you always look flawless to her. You were laughing at something your friend had said, ellie's ears straining to hear the saccharine sound over the chatter buzzing. she just heard it, and god, what she would do to have a recording of it to listen to over and over again.
the two of you weren't friends by any means, but she knew you.
most of ellie's time was spent staring at you during class or when you passed her in the hallway. her eyes would shy away every time they met yours, the intensity of your gaze leaving her a flustered mess within seconds.
when she wasn't looking at you, her head was buried into her journal, pencil dragging fervently across the pages. her entries always had your name embedded somewhere within their sentences. it was like you were all she could think about. when she would draw, the lines and curves always morphed into you, capturing a moment of you daydreaming in class or whatever other snapshot her mind had taken of you that wouldn't stop plaguing her.
she'd listen to your conversations when she was close enough to hear - not to be a creep or anything! but how else was she supposed to learn more about you?
sure, the obvious answer would be to talk to you, but she was a nervous wreck from just seeing you. you'd only had a few brief interactions before, and she swears she almost fainted when you remembered her name when you asked her for a pen once.
while she believed the popularity contest that was high school to be ridiculous, her very low place in the school's hierarchy was a definite set-up for failure, she was certain. ellie kept to herself, mostly, aside from her few friends, but that didn't stop her from becoming the target of relentless bullying from some of the other students, the ones at the top of the food chain.
you were well-liked amongst your peers, but your popularity never merged you with those people. you were known for your sunny disposition, whereas they tormented their way to the top.
you'd seen it happen a couple of times, the sound of their jeering always catching your attention, especially when you heard them say ellie's name in that disgusting tone that made your heart ache for her. in fact, it's what snapped you out of your current conversation as an irritated, "what the fuck, williams?" sounds throughout the hallway.
in her lovestruck daze, ellie hadn't been looking where she was walking, which conveniently caused her to bump into one of them - a girl you didn't care much for, quinn was it? all you knew for sure was that she was trouble.
ellie winced and scrunched her face at the sound of her voice, internally cursing at herself because now she had to deal with her. she opened her eyes to see that everyone was looking, including you.
"shit, sorry. wasn't looking where i was going, won't happen again," ellie's tone is curt, trying to move past her and continue with her day before things got worse.
but of course, she wouldn't get let off the hook that easily; that was just her luck.
"where do you think you're going?" she probes, moving to block ellie's path. ellie has to restrain herself from rolling her eyes in her face, not wanting to escalate things if she could help it. how naive of her to think that nothing could ever be easy for her.
"c'mon, dude. i apologised. can we move on and-"
suddenly, it feels like the wind was knocked from ellie's lungs, and she's… falling?
a little stunned, she looks up from her newfound place on the floor after quinn has shoved her to the ground. all because of an accident that could have been easily brushed off and forgotten about. such a dumb fucking reason, and yet it has ellie seething.
"you should watch where you're going, williams. always lurking where nobody wants you to be." quinn spits, taunting ellie to get a rise out of her.
it was likely that ellie's indifferent reactions to quinn's bullying irritated her, unable to fathom why ellie wouldn't buckle and submit like every other one of her unfortunate victims.
while the teasing and mean remarks were an unfortunate constant in her life, this never mellowed ellie. she was always quick-witted, her slight temper always having her ready to argue back and stand up for herself, and this time was no different.
ellie rises from the ground and delivers an equally hard shove, an irate, "what the fuck is your problem?" leaving her chapped lips. being the drama-obsessed hive mind that high schoolers were, it didn't take long for people to start crowding around the two once things intensified.
you had been watching the whole thing from afar before a wall of people began forming, not realising it'd evolve into this. you heard a pained groan rip from ellie's throat after what you presumed was the first punch being thrown. now you are only able to listen to the commotion but not see the situation, making your anxiety skyrocket.
you liked to keep an attentive eye on ellie from a distance despite your paths rarely crossing, feeling some strange obligation to watch over her. you knew quinn and her posse of assholes always gave ellie a hard time, but she seemed to handle herself just fine, sometimes hearing one of her clever comebacks that made you giggle.
while the brawl entertained everyone else, you grew increasingly agitated. you were never one for drama and kept a relatively peaceful circle of friends, but the idea of just standing and doing nothing felt like a personal failure.
so, before you knew it, you were excusing yourself from your friends and pushing your way through the crowd to get to ellie.
once you breached the crowd, you found yourself in the eye of the storm, your eyes wide. after a while of their struggle against each other, quinn was now situated on top of ellie as she delivered a particularly hard punch to ellie's cheek. the wounded groan she let out was what urged you out of your frozen shock, rushing towards the tangle of violent limbs, grabbing quinn's shoulder and pulling her off of ellie with a hard tug.
"get the hell away from her!" you yell, trying hard to ignore the disappointed groans of the audience as you interrupt their entertainment. "assholes." you thought to yourself.
wiping the blood from her nose, the sight of the trickling crimson more satisfying to you than it should be, quinn looks at you confused, clearly not expecting you of all people to come to ellie's rescue.
"the fuck are you doing?" she sneers, looking between you and ellie, who is still on the floor, propping herself up on her elbows with the nastiest glare you'd ever seen on her face. "don't tell me you actually give a shit about this loser-"
"back off, don't touch her," you snarled, pushing past her to kneel beside ellie on the ground.
you had this untouchable air about you, something that was a little lost on you but not to quinn. she knew you had people to back you up, her targets usually being the loner outcast types, being the coward she is. the same ruthlessness ellie received was not given to you, an irritated scoff being all you heard from quinn. she was the least of your worries right now.
"are you okay?" you ask, a little breathless from the adrenaline of putting yourself in the middle of a fight in front of an audience. your brows furrowed at how quickly deep purples and blues had already started blooming around ellie's eye and her freckled cheek.
ellie looked at you blankly, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, and she tried desperately to find any words to say to you. how was she supposed to think straight? the rush from the fight and now having her crush come to her aid rendered her speechless. her lack of answer only worried you more, pinning her silence on being stunned from the fight still.
"ellie, i need you to answer-"
you were cut off by the sound of the principal pushing his way through the mass, his stern voice demanding that the two battered girls follow him to his office.
you watch doe-eyed and nervous as ellie pushes herself off the floor with a wince, looking at you with eyes that have so much to say yet a mouth that cannot quite verbalise it. but she couldn't stay, so without a word, she reluctantly trudged behind the principal with her head hanging low, utterly fed up, and man, that one punch hurt.
you peered around the corner to the row of chairs lined up outside the principal's office, eyes fixated on ellie's slumped figure occupying one of them. you had been watching for at least a minute or two now despite there being the opportunity to approach her like any other normal person. but this was comfortable for you, familiar. if ellie believed she was the only person with a staring problem, and she did, then she was painfully wrong.
it felt routine for you to watch her like this from afar, a look in your eyes brimming with so much more than just innocent curiosity.
it was like you could sense her presence in a room, your gaze always finding her so easily amongst the hoard of other students. your eyes would rake up and down as you shamelessly drank her in, that camo jacket of hers that she wore like a safety blanket hanging loosely from her frame. she wore it infuriatingly well, paired with her unbothered demeanour that looked oh so good on her. a witty remark was always ready on the tip of her tongue when one of her tormentors dared to speak to her, her scarred brow furrowing into a scowl that made your stomach flutter.
you knew what cuteness aggression was, but that surely couldn't be what you felt now. but it made you mad how badly ellie affected you even from a distance, what was once just a silly hallway crush twisting into a near-violent obsession. you spied her fresh bruises, almost filling you with a little satisfaction. serves her right, your voice whispers quietly inside your head, as if you were scared someone could hear you. you almost wished you had been the one to give her the bruises only so you could plant two gentle kisses over the skin to soothe the sting afterwards. the deep plum colour blooming across her skin still somehow made her look pretty, and you had to take a moment to ask yourself if that was a fucked up thing to think. probably.
suddenly becoming aware of how much of a creep you must look, lingering but not daring to approach, you decided to finally go check on her. it wouldn't feel right for you not to ensure she was okay.
ellie wonders how hard she was punched when she looks up to see you, a concerned and bashful smile on your face.
"hey, ellie. i just wanted to check on you after what happened with… y'know."
ellie spends a moment in silence as she processes what's happening. you're fidgeting with your hands, rocking back and forth on your heels like you don't know what to do with yourself. she could have scoffed in bewilderment, as if you had any right to look so nervous standing in front of her, effortlessly beautiful and so sweet.
"ellie?" you repeat her name again, softer this time. ellie almost wants to stay silent just to hear you repeat it. but she needs to respond, fuck think, think, think-
"o-oh, hey. i uh- yeah, i'm okay. nothing i can't handle," ellie finally manages to get out. you nod in acknowledgement, tearing your eyes away for just a moment to compose yourself.
"do you mind if i sit?" you gesture to the empty chair beside her, which has her perking up almost immediately. ellie nods, a simple "sure," leaving her lips in a tone that sounded far more curt than nonchalant like she intended. really, she was just trying to focus on not bursting at the seams. you were so close to her, and now she had to keep her cool.
"thanks for stepping in earlier and pulling her off of me. you didn't have to do that."
"i wasn't just gonna stand there and watch it happen," you say it like that wasn't what anyone else would have done, what they did do. all more than happy to watch her get her ass beat just to spice up what otherwise would have been another boring school day.
"i'd say i held my own somewhat well," ellie quips, her tone a little lighter than before. you giggle softly, deciding not to remind her that she had been floored by the time you got to her. she had definitely lost the fight, and in her defence, that girl was notoriously scrappy, but fortunately for you, she made losing look so good. holding herself up on her elbows, the meanest look on her dishevelled face as she stared up at the girl with an unwavering glare.
"and what did the principal have to say about that?" you press for details, head tilting curiously. you looked like a puppy, sitting all cute and pretty next to her. ellie swore you were trying to kill her; such a simple movement made her heart rate spike.
"got a firm slap on the wrist and the usual 'you're better than this' speech." you hum in acknowledgement, a breath of a laugh exhaling through your nose.
"well, for what it's worth, I think you gave her what she deserved." your statement caught her off guard, and she was not expecting you to condone any of what went down earlier.
"oh, you think?"
"oh definitely. the only time i see her is when she's making some poor person's life hell. i'm glad to see her get a taste of her own medicine."
ellie couldn't argue with that, shrugging in agreement as she tried to keep the pride bubbling up in her chest at bay.
"i am a little surprised, though. i wasn't expecting you to entertain a fight with her." this makes ellie raise her eyebrow inquisitively. did she not look tough enough to be in a fight or something? she knew she was nerdy, but surely she didn't look utterly defenceless, right?
"how come?" she questions, leaning back more comfortably in her chair, legs settling into her usual manspread that had you reeling just from seeing it from a distance, never mind being right next to her. your eyes darted around the hallway, desperately trying to focus on the conversation.
"well, y'know, i see you around, and you're usually so…" you trail off as you wave your hands in soft, fluid motions, whimsical and a little silly as you try to explain the softer side of her you had always noticed in what looked like some strange interpretive dance.
"but back there, you were all like-" you're swinging your arms a little more frantically now, a poor recreation of some generic karate moves. you would feel like a total idiot and you very much do if it wasn't for the cheesy smile spreading across ellie's face at the sight of you.
"yeah?" she feels like she's getting lightheaded from how giddy she feels.
"yeah." you parrot back sheepishly, twiddling your thumbs to ground yourself. so cute.
all ellie seemed to be good for was being riled up by the other students, so hearing that you had acknowledged her enough to make up your own mind about her made her feel like she was short circuiting. she was quickly snapped out of her temporary high when she felt a sharp sting on the side of her face, her sappy smile irritating her bruises.
"shit, are you okay?" you ask worriedly as she tries to brush it off with a wave of her hand.
"yeah yeah, i'm fine; this could've been way worse. you don't need to worry." her thoughts didn't quite match up with her words, though, silently begging that you'd keep doting on her. she was basking in having your undivided attention.
"ellie, these bruises are pretty big, i'm allowed to worry after I watched you get your ass handed to you," you ramble, ignoring her dismissal.
"hey! she didn't have that much of an upper hand against me-"
you don’t reply, your hand absentmindedly reaches out to cup her jaw, being careful not to press into where it hurts as you inspect her injuries.
"has anybody checked over you yet?"
she feels like she's on fire, palms sweaty as she silently lets you examine her. she barely managed to respond to your question with a simple "no." she swore she could feel everywhere your eyes landed on her face, and fuck, your hand is so warm. the mess of a girl was surprised that steam wasn't radiating from where your skin met.
as you give her face a final once over, you catch that frazzled deer-in-headlights look in her eyes and realise what you were doing, immediately removing your hand. if ellie wasn't frozen in place, she would have chased your touch, already missing the feeling of you on her skin.
"s-sorry, i just- i didn't mean to touch you out of nowhere. i was checking for my own peace of mind and got carried away-"
"no!" ellie interrupts a little louder than she meant to. "i mean, it's totally fine," her voice is shaking, "thank you for caring. you don't even really know me, and you're doing all this for me, so thank you."
her abruptness halts your apologetic rambling. you look at her wide-eyed for a moment before letting a soft little smile tug up the corner of your lips. if only she knew just how well you'd come to know her from all of your stolen glances, committing her to memory like she would disappear.
"don't mention it."
silence falls over you, both fidgeting shyly as you struggle to find something else to say. but that was okay. the giddy smiles you were both biting back said everything they needed to.
"i should probably get back to class, i've been holding this hall pass hostage for a while so i could come to check on you." you huff out a little disappointed sigh, reluctant to leave now that you'd finally been able to talk to ellie after so long spent longingly glancing in her direction.
"oh right, sorry. don't let me keep you, like i said i'm fine, really." ellie felt herself deflate a little now that she knew you had to go. the word pathetic came to mind when she realised how silly she must have looked, sulking like a kicked dog.
"i'm glad you're okay, ellie. i'll um… i'll see you around, yeah?" you couldn't help the hopefulness seeping through your words, and ellie noticed. the slight lilt in your sweet voice, your awkward shifting as you stood up, ready to leave.
"yeah, i'll see you around." ellie smiled up at you, ignoring the sharp twinge where her bruises were. maybe she should get beat up more often if it meant getting your attention.
hhhhhh so cute ;-;
"𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧, 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬."
content / warnings: jackson ellie / fem newcomer reader, loser! ellie, the majority of tlou has not happened (joel and jesse are still alive), mentions of joel (will be in part 2), mentions of cat, jesse and dina are romantically involved, near-death situations (patrol gone wrong), mild violence, slight angst with comfort, lots of swearing, eventual smut (in part 2).
word count: 4.4k
link to part two ( status: unfinished)
Description: Newcomers come and go through Jackson, and Ellie doesn’t pay any of them much thought. However, she catches a glimpse of you. You’re the exact opposite of her, soft and sweet like cotton candy (if that were a thing in Jackson). Now she feels 14 all over again, palms clammy and freckled face hot when you’re around. When you’re not, she buries her face into her pillow and hopelessly pines. Jesse and Dina just won’t let her fumble, though.
Ellie locks the stable door behind her, the creaking of the hinges accompanying her huff. As usual, Ellie is quite sweaty and admittedly cranky after a patrol that lasted longer than it should’ve.
She and Jesse spent hours clearing out a portion of the town North of Jackson, only to find the ammunition cabinets empty and the pantries bare. To come back almost empty-handed leaves Ellie in a particularly sour mood, and now she is in no state to deal with another social interaction for the day. No offense to her best friend Jesse, but he can be annoyingly talkative on the longest days.
“Hey, have you heard about the new group who just arrived?” Jesse’s voice snaps Ellie out of her own thoughts, and she shrugs. She walks alongside Jesse back to the weaponry to store their pistols.
“Yeah. What about them?” Ellie has never understood why everyone makes a big fuss out of new arrivals. Jackson gets plenty of travelers. Besides, folks stay and folks go. She won’t be surprised if the entire group is headed South by tomorrow morning.
Jackson isn’t for everyone. It’s mainly for the type of people Ellie is–fine with the harsher, okay with hours of stressful patrols, and usually content to kick infected ass. Also secluded, far from larger settlements that remind her too much of a QZ.
“There’s a girl. Maria is sayin’ she’s around our age, too.” Jesse informs her.
Ellie snorts at that, shaking her head. “So?” She opens the door to the weaponry, unloading her pistol and storing the gun on the wall alongside his.
Jesse gives her a ‘what do you mean, so?’ look, and almost laughs at her attitude. He knows that she is more reserved when it comes to new people. Really, people in general. For the longest time, the circle was Jesse, Dina, and Ellie. Like a holy trinity that Cat occasionally popped into before departing when she and Ellie broke up. Ellie has never needed more social interaction than her friends, Joel and Tommy, and maybe a girlfriend. The only problem is that she has the social skills of an incel when it comes to women, save for the fact that most incels were taken out on breakout day.
“We had new people just last month. What’s so special about these?”
Jesse rolls his eyes as they walk out of the weaponry, holding the door open for Ellie despite her bitterness. “I was just informing you, jeez. What’s with the pissy mood?”
Ellie sighs, pausing outside of the building. “My bad. Just..didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and patrol didn’t help.”
Jesse raises an eyebrow. “Were you up on that PlayStation you’ve got in your mancave?”
“For the last time, it’s not a man cave,” she speaks with light disapproval in her tone.
Jesse laughs at his friend’s attitude, enjoying teasing her. “Right. Well, you go home and get some damn rest. I’m tired of dealing with your cranky ass on patrol.” He pats her shoulder, giving her a small wave before walking towards his house.
Ellie sighs and mumbles a “whatever” before turning in the other direction and heading for the small garage she has behind Joel’s house, looking forward to sleeping until she is forced to get up in the morning.
-
Patrol is early, earlier than usual. Luckily, Ellie got plenty of sleep the night before. In her straight jeans and (against Dina’s advice to not risk hypothermia) canvas sneakers, everything is ready, and she feels lighter this morning. Not in a particularly grumpy mood, she walks down the streets to find Jesse. She is a tad bit confused–usually, Jesse is knocking at her door on patrol mornings. She grumbles under her breath at the thought that he is probably at the Tipsy Bison on some cheesy breakfast date with Dina. As much as she loves the two, she hates third-wheeling. Things are already awkward as it is.
Ellie gets stuck in her mind as always, until a particular view cuts the thought train. There you are, in a pen filled with baby sheep, giggling and petting behind their ears. It’s an overwhelmingly sweet sight, something Ellie would usually find herself thinking of with disgust. Too sweet, like a tooth-rotting confection. But that’s not the case here, no.
Ellie has seen plenty of pretty girls in Jackson. What is it that makes her hands clammy, and causes her face to redden in pure embarrassment? Her cheeks are so hot you could fry eggs on them. She’s embarrassed to be herself next to a pretty girl. You’re sweet and soft, and you remind her of peaches or a fluffy cake. But really, the thing that truly gets her isn’t the sheep or the way you smile at them in a way that makes even Ellie feel safe around you. It’s that outfit.
Something she would find in a damn magazine for girls. Ellie would find herself thinking that wearing cute, feminine outfits is just dumb. In this world, where anything can happen, why wouldn’t you go for the practical? Why lace yourself up with soft frills and pink hues? You can’t run in a skirt. But looking at you, how the fabric seems to be made for you, she finds herself wondering how soft it is (and how soft to the touch you are).
You’re the type of girl Ellie could see herself writing shitty journal entries about, your initial next to hers. You’re the type of girl she imagined tasting when she practices kissing her hand. You’re everything she needs in a daydream she could never confess to anyone else.
And then, the moment is over just before she could introduce herself to you.
“Earth to Ellie? Whatcha staring at?” Jesse asks from behind her, causing Ellie to quickly turn around.
“Nothing. Let’s just go.” Ellie’s voice doesn’t hide her defensiveness, and Jesse notices your figure a little bit away. He has a knowing smirk on his face, and Ellie groans. “C’mon, I’m not-”
“Didn’t say anything,” he points out with a surrender.
The patrol goes normally. Kill infected, raid for supplies, endure Jesse’s dirty jokes. The only difference is, Ellie feels the need to ask about you on the way home.
Mounted on horses, Ellie decides to speak up. “Hey..do you know anything about that new girl?”
Jesse shrugs casually. “She’s good friends with Dina already.” Ellie nods. Dina is the most social out of the trio, so it makes sense.
“Is she nice?” Ellie asks, taking a small glance at Jesse.
“Why? Interested in her or something?” Jesse replies, slightly smiling. It’s clear that he enjoys the fact that he knows how to get to her.
Of course, she scoffs, raising her defenses. “No! Why do you think that?”
He laughs, eyes roving over her face. “Well, your cheeks are red. That’s the first sign. Secondly, you keep interrogating me over this chick.”
Ellie sighs and looks down at Shimmer’s mane, trying to focus on something other than Jesse’s stupid face so that she can admit it. “Yeah, maybe I think she’s pretty cute. But she’s probably straight, so it doesn’t matter,” she mumbles quietly.
“You’re such a pessimist, Ellie. You don’t know what she is.” He reminds Ellie, tone laced with tough love.
“Yeah, well, how am I supposed to?” She asks though she doesn’t expect an actual answer.
Jesse almost laughs at that. “By asking her?”
“What?! I can’t just ask if she likes girls! What if she gets offended?”
“Dude, chill. I mean, just talk to her. Don’t you have a gaydar or somethin’?” He quips, making her crinkle her nose in protest.
“Yeah, right. All gays can just sense each other.” Ellie says with a half-hearted glare.
Jesse sighs. “Look, why don’t you just ask her to that summer festival thing? You know, the one with the dance?”
Her eyes widen at that. “A dance? That sounds like a nightmare.”
“You are a lost cause,” he says as he rolls his eyes.
It was around 7 p.m. when Ellie and Jesse made it to the gates. Ellie sighs outside of the Tipsy Bison.
“Do I have to come in with you?” Ellie asks while already knowing the answer.
“Yes! I need one of those cheesesteaks for dinner, and you could use some grub other than whatever is in that pathetic fridge of yours.” Jesse says, giving Ellie a smirk that suddenly sends her stomach feeling uneasy. He knows something she doesn’t. The only other time Ellie was given that look was the day before Jesse put a corn snake in her garage house as a “prank” for her 17th birthday. Still, Jesse is right. All she has in that mini fridge of hers are leftovers and a pack of instant rice. Her stomach growls in contrast to her protests.
“Ladies first,” Jesse teases, holding the door open for her.
Ellie sighs, feeling a bit cranky as usual at the end of the patrol, but walks into the building. She finds herself immediately freezing at the sight of you there beside Dina, laughing at an inside joke and munching on cheese fries.
“Oh my god, fuck me.” Ellie curses under her breath. She can already feel the heat rising to her cheeks, pink mixing within the freckled surface. She just hopes that you won’t notice.
“Don’t be a wimp, go say hi.” Jesse orders lightly behind Ellie, pointing to the area where you’re seated. Ellie swallows, and her boots feel almost like bricks on her feet. Jesse rolls his eyes, practically dragging her over to Dina and you.
You seem to look up from your meal, eyes scanning over her. She feels like she is being evaluated. God, you must be thinking about how awkward she looks. She can feel her hands get all sweaty like they did when she first laid eyes on you, and her hands shake. She tugs her jacket sleeves down and nearly expects the worst.
“Hi!” You smile, and you tell Ellie your name. All of the anxiety bubbles into a mix of dread and something giddy. Dread, because she can’t function properly around the one girl who makes her nervous as fuck. Giddiness, because you’re so sweet and lovely and pretty and kissable-
“Hi.” She manages to croak out, struggling to make eye contact. Fuck, how do I look at her? Do I focus on one of her eyes or can I blink and look away? I could wink. Oh, hell no. Don’t do that, Ellie. Instead tries to force an extremely nervous smile onto her face. “Name’s Ellie.”
“I know.” You simply say, still smiling slightly before stabbing a couple of fries with a plastic fork. There is some awkward silence before Dina fucks up Ellie’s momentum with the most nerve-wracking conversion starter.
“Ellie here has a tattoo.” She brags to you, gesturing to Ellie’s arm. Your eyes light up, and you turn towards her.
“Really?! I’ve always wanted one, but my parents would kill me.” You say excitedly. “Can I see?”
Ellie quickly nods, a little flustered with the attention thrown onto her. She shimmies her jacket off, leaving her in a pale blue sweater. Pulling the sleeve up to her elbow, she shows you the moth and fern inked into her skin. You scooch to the edge of the booth, closer to her, and she swears she can smell your perfume. Something sweet like vanilla, perhaps? It just reminds her of cake and whipped frosting. Her mind is suddenly less focused on your eyes roving over her arm, and more on wondering how you taste. She realizes how shitty that is and quickly tries to back out of her thoughts, but she looks down to find you looking up at her expectantly.
“Ellie here zones out 24/7, don’t mind her,” Jesse informs you, trying to push the sudden agenda he and Dina have going on. Ellie is practically burning right now. The air in the room feels limited, and the clashing of dishes in the background that she suddenly can’t seem to tune out isn’t helping. Ellie suddenly clears her throat, pulling away and putting her jacket back on.
“Woah, where are you going?” Dina asks, not paying attention to the obvious nerves emitting from her friend.
“Gonna go home and take a shower,” is all Ellie can find herself saying before making a beeline for the door.
The air is humid, but it isn’t much different from what Ellie felt inside. Ellie sighs, leaning against the wall. She really fucked tonight up. You were so sweet and inviting, and all she could do was tremble like a leaf and say a few boring words. Not only that, but you probably think that she is rude now, just walking out right after meeting you. She just hopes your feelings aren’t hurt in any way.
-
The universe officially hates Ellie Williams.
There, in bold letters, are the patrol assignments for the week. The paper is pinned to the corkboard outside of the town hall. This morning, with you? Ellie can’t tell if she wants to cry or laugh. Either way, she is dreading today.
“Hey, partner!” You greet her, clearly in a cheerful mood. She wants to kiss the corner of your lips on both sides just to feel your smile against her lips, but she is way too much of a pussy for that. Plus, you could be straight. You’re probably straight.
Ellie has to process how fast you found her, but when she wraps her head around it and finally can think of a coherent thought, it’s a confused one.
“Uh, hey..aren’t you new here?” She asks, scratching the corner of her mouth.
“Yeah. Tommy said you would be helping me out with our patrol today?” You told her, watching Ellie’s face grow from confused to almost panicked. “I can find a new partner if you don’t-”
“No!” She basically shouts at you, visibly cringing when people nearby stop to look at her. “I just mean, it’s fine. I just haven’t trained anyone in a long time.”
“Right. Well, we better head out then, huh? I was warned that the trail Maria gave us is one of the longer ones.” You say, looking at Ellie for a response.
Ellie doesn’t know what it is about you, but you make a conversation feel like a trip down to the first ring of hell. Even thinking that may be rude, and she curses her thoughts, but you’re pretty and kind. Ellie is a sweaty, awkward loser. She knows it must probably be hell for you to have to talk to her, too.
She swallows, nodding. “West trails go on for a while, but it’s fine. We’ll make it back to Jackson before night.”
You smile and nod in response, seemingly unbothered by her odd behavior as you follow her to the stables.
One thing about horse riding is that it is one of the most calming activities Ellie has available for her. Even when Jesse or Dina yaps her ears off, she finds peace on the back of a horse. After a long, stressful patrol, Ellie can always have a bit of respite with Shimmer. A girl with plenty of nerves can surely calm herself with the feel of coarse hair, accompanied by a comforting neigh. However, on this particular patrol, nothing about the horse ride along the Western trails is peaceful, or even tolerable.
Your soft chest is pressed up against her back. Even through the thickness of her hoodie, she can feel your rapid heartbeat. Her mind wanders–not to filth, but pure curiosity for you. If she were to confess, you’d surely find her obsession with you to be weird and possibly creepy. She just can’t help but wonder what makes your heart race so fast, though.
Are you not used to riding horses? It could be possible that in past experiences, you just had to walk from place to place. That doesn’t make sense, though. You have a family, don’t you? Your parents came with you, and there is no way you all just walked from the middle of nowhere to Jackson with just–
Ellie’s internal rambling ceases when she feels your arms, currently wrapped around her waist, squeeze her. Suddenly is she so conscious of the fact that your palm must be able to feel her stomach expand and falter with each breath she takes? That means you know how uneven her breathing is. You probably don’t ramble in your head about Ellie’s stupid lungs, though.
“Sorry. I’m just trying not to fall off of this huge thing.” You say, and Ellie can hear the hint of fear in your voice. It makes her heart jump, and a strange feeling of protectiveness enters her system. She stops herself from showing it though, not wanting to scare you away from her.
“This huge thing?” She questions, never hearing that term used for a horse before.
“Yeah, yeah!” You laugh softly, the sound music to her ears. “I just have an irrational fear of falling off of horses, okay?”
“Fair. I’m just, uh.” Ellie trails off, trying to find her train of thought as it keeps slipping through her grasp. “I’m used to horses, bein’ here in Jackson for a while.”
Your hands are warm, resting against her stomach. She can feel the heat through the fabric of her shirt.
Through the nerves bubbling up in her stomach like the usual acid, she finds the courage to take one hand off of Shimmer’s reins. It finds your hand, giving you a comforting squeeze. She is half-expecting you to be uncomfortable with her action, but to her surprise, you let out a soft sigh.
Like music to her ears.
-
Ellie is still tying Shimmer up as you scope out the area. Her hands are sweaty from the contact with yours, and her heart is beating through her chest so fast it almost hurts.
The sudden croak stops her in her tracks, her head turning towards you. You’re stepping back and nearly tripping over yourself to scramble away from a clicker, the gross-looking creature emerging from a hole in the fence you were just studying.
“Shit!” Ellie grits through her teeth, her feet carrying her fast.
Ellie has always been on a sort of adrenaline through every patrol she goes on. She has good instincts. She works well under pressure. For some, thinking so impulsively can be fatal. For Ellie, it’s just natural–how she was raised.
Ellie fights for reasons other than survival, however. Her own life isn’t always plugged into the equation along with the actions she takes. However, her mind flashes with a thought: what if I died right now? Would she be able to defend herself?
And suddenly, her life means everything. The fight becomes more intense.
Her hand harshly grips the creature’s jaw, tilting it upward to plunge her switchblade into its throat. It lets out a blood-curdling yell and falters. She lets its body drop and rushes toward you without another thought to the corpse a few feet away.
You’re on the ground, tears brimming your sweet eyes. The adrenaline rush still courses through her body as her eyes scan your body for any sign of a bite.
Not again, please. Not after what happened.
A relieved gasp leaves her when she realizes you’re safe. She looks over your face, and her chest aches when she sees the fear in your eyes.
“You’re okay. It’s all okay, it’s dead.”
You only nod in response, not trusting your voice at the moment. Ellie doesn’t mind. She crouches in front of you, fingers stroking through your hair, coaxing you to calm down. The only sounds left in the area are your quiet sniffles and the wind blowing through the trees behind you.
During the ride back to Jackson, you clutch onto Ellie just as tightly as the first time.
-
The summer festival. The small group that plans social events in Jackson hosts one every year in July. Ellie has always preferred winter when she could layer up her body and subtly admire Wyoming mountain ranges on lookouts. Summer is hot and filled with mosquitos, but Dina and Jesse love the summer festival, so Ellie goes every year.
The summer festival always left Ellie overwhelmed. She gets sweaty in her flannel, couples love to swap spit in the lines for face paint, and little kids get especially loud after sugary treats. The worst part? They include a dance along with it. The majority of Jackson dancing with each other accompanied by hot weather is as much of a nightmare as it seems. It isn’t Ellie’s ideal Friday night, especially when she could be at home strumming her guitar, or even just asleep.
“She’s going to the festival with us, by the way.” Jesse grins, leaning against Ellie’s front door.
“Oh, great,” Ellie says, a failed attempt at sarcasm. In all actuality, her pulse races when she pictures dancing with you.
Jesse laughs. “Dude, don’t act like you haven’t been daydreaming about her every day since that patrol.”
“Sure.” Ellie rolls her eyes. “It’s not like I’m in love with her or anything. I just think she’s cute.” Even admitting that causes embarrassment to plague her cheeks, however.
“That is exactly how it starts, smart one.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ellie asks, voice thick with exasperation.
“It starts with a ‘oh, she’s just cute.’ And then before you know it, you’ll be wearing matching ugly Christmas sweaters with her every year, just like me and Dina.” Jesse says.
“Oh, for god’s sake. I’m not whipped like you are. I just think she’s pretty, and I wouldn’t mind getting to know her.” She explains.
“And she wouldn’t mind getting to know you, either.”
“Oh my god, will you stop talking in riddles for five minutes?” Ellie groans, lightly smacking his shoulder. “Can’t you just..say what you mean?”
“I mean that she’s been gushing about you ever since you saved her. Something about a patrol and you comforting her. She has this crush on you, it’s adorable.” Jesse tells her, a grin on his face.
Ellie’s heart skips a beat. So you like her, too?
“Like I said before, you gotta ask her to be your plus one,” Jesse suggests.
The thought of spending her night with you instead of being the festival’s wallflower seems appealing. Even more appealing than just staying in like a recluse. Still, her nerves nag at her.
“Are you sure I should? Isn’t she already going with us?” Ellie asks with uncertainty in her tone.
“Yeah, but you want to make it clear you at least want something to do with her, right? If you don’t talk to her, she’ll think it’s just a friendly thing.”
“True,” Ellie mumbles.
“So do it. Go talk to her.” Jesse urges.
“Jeez, okay. I don’t have to right away.”
-
Joel has always conveyed the importance of gift-giving. He is a man who isn’t the best with his words. He bottles it up so easily and explodes just the same. Ellie has the same habit, so she uses that advice–gift-giving.
Joel himself has given plenty of gifts and services. He’d gifted Ellie with her first guitar. He made sure she didn’t go without a nice meal when she holed herself up in her room after her and Cat’s breakup. That voice is simply lodged in her head after the amount of times she has had to hear him say it.
“How are you doin’, kiddo?”
Gifts come in all shapes and sizes. Some gifts are the ones you think thoroughly about before you offer them. Some are unintentionally impactful, the type you keep with you for years after, even if the person who gave it to you doesn’t realize what it means to you.
Ellie likes to think gifts can be physical, too. You can give a kiss or a hug, and that proves the notion that certain gifts are special to certain people. You’d want to be given a kiss from someone you romantically love.
Ellie thought it over before knocking on your door. She heard things about what people had given their love interests before the apocalypse. As Joel said, bouquets and candy were cheesy but it worked. Ellie doesn’t have a local grocery store, however, unless you count the one with its workers being infected and its interior neglected, surrounded by overgrowth.
Ellie isn’t much of a baker, either. Her garage home’s oven is sparsely used, her microwave in favor; the previous night, her oven was used. Three times, actually. Two times resulted in charred, burnt remains of what was supposed to be a cake. The third time, Ellie put her dignity aside and went to Joel for help, and she reluctantly let him in on her intentions.
So here she is, in her red flannel that doesn’t have any holes in it and a pair of boot-cut jeans, painfully styled with crusty Converse. She knocks at your door, a container with a vanilla cake in the other.
Ellie’s eyes fill with hearts when your head peeks out. You open the door wider when you recognize her face, and your eyes naturally trail down to the item in her hands.
Ellie clears her throat. “Uh, brought you something.”
And of course, you’re already smiling ear to ear. “Yeah? What’d you bring me?”
Something as sweet as you. That is what Ellie thinks, but instead, she gives the blunt, not unkind answer. “Cake.”
Ellie holds out the container for you, and you accept it without hesitance. For just a split second, she feels the warmth of your fingertips as they brush against her rough, calloused ones. And then for another second, she lets herself dwell on her deepest thoughts–she wishes she could intertwine her fingers with yours and know what it’s like to be loved by the sun herself.
“Also–” Ellie scratches her lip, trying not to sputter out her thoughts. “Since Dina and Jesse are going to be all over each other at the festival, I was thinking we could hang out. If you don’t mind.”
You beam as brightly as the sun. “Yeah! And thanks for the cake, Els.”
Els. That name has her face hot and her hands clammy. She just stares at you for a moment, giving a nod and as polite a goodbye as she can manage before she heads back to her garage house to think of the fact that you just called her the cutest thing you could possibly call her.
Els it is, then. Els is taking you to the summer festival tomorrow.
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JUMPING FOR JOY WITH ACTUAL TEARS IN MY EYES I LOVE AUTISTIC REPRESENTATION IN X READERS ))): and with abby too????? a billion more please :,)
free palestine! click this link for more info + dono links (if you have links to any other gfms/resources pls send them to me so i can update the list!)
hello hello i am here with some abby x autistic! reader content bc i know i cant be the only autistic person obsessed with her. yes this is completely self indulgent.
i kinda just threw words on the page, but i hope someone out there will enjoy :)
it takes ages for you and abby to actually get together because you were entirely oblivious to her advances. during breakfast you had spent a solid thirty minutes talking about the different wildflowers that grew in north america and their significance in literature. abby thought your passion for the subject was sweet so while on patrol she picked some flowers that kind of looked like the ones in the pictures you showed her. when she presented them to you, your squeals of joy made her entire face light up.
“ah, thank you!”
you think nothing of it, assuming she was just being nice. you always assume she’s just being nice. so when you accidentally end up on a moonlit picnic date with her and she asks to kiss you, your eyebrows raise in confusion.
abby looks mortified “oh god, did i make things weird? i’m sorry.”
“no, no!” you reassure her. “i just…didn’t know this was a date.”
she could throw up on the spot. had she misread the situation? sure she never said the word “date”, but she told you that she wanted to spend some time alone with you. she brought you flowers, wine (if you could even call it that) that owen had been fermenting, and you two had been cuddling under the stars for the better part of an hour.
“you can kiss me.” your fingers fiddled with the stitching of the blanket beneath the two of you. “i would like that, actually.”
when you start dating you apologize profusely about all of your sensory quirks. you didn’t want to cuddle after she washed her hair because you hated the feeling of her wet hair on your skin. she kept separate blankets for you because you didn’t like the texture of the fabric on hers.
you nearly cried after the only time you snapped at her. someone was playing music in the mess hall, everyone was talking over each other, the smell and texture of the mushy broccoli was overwhelming, and abby was asking too many questions about your assignments for the day.
“please just be quiet for a second!” your tone had been a little sharper than you intended. abby looked hurt until tears welled in your eyes and you apologized over and over. you talked it over after dinner and obviously abby wasn’t mad at you (not that she ever could be).
after that, whenever she would play music she always made a point to ask
“is that too loud?”
and you absolutely hated patrol. all the yelling, the occasional gunfire, that god awful clicking. it was an overstimulating nightmare. abby often picked up your shifts whenever she could to save you the misery of leaving base. on the off chance that she couldn’t, she would always make sure a few pairs of ear plugs were in your bag.
you fight the need to vocal stim around people who aren’t her. it was a weight off your shoulders when you finally felt brave enough to explain it to her. at first, she just ignored them, growing accustomed to the empty noise. one day, when you’re softly meowing on repeat, she decided to join in. the two of you would meow back and forth until you erupted into giggles.
abby never made you feel weird about anything. sure, she had questions, but never in an invasive way. she just wanted to cater to and accommodate you as best she could. all because she loves you.
i may write more of this if people like it? i have a plethora of experiences to draw inspo from lmao
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Thinking very hard about Logan talking you through it
He knows you're close ultimately before you do. Seasoned by his many years of life, your tells are specific but not impossible to discern.
It's different each time he's come to realize. A different scent to you based on the mood you're in, how quickly he brings you there, your vulnerability, and how he speaks to you.
Logan's a greedy man. He knows that. And he knew as soon as the first time it'd happened that he shamelessly selfish in getting what he wanted.
You smell like cinnamon and vanilla and fuck if it wasn't better than all the drugs he'd ever tried combined.
A part of him still thinks he might be chasing your high.
He learned quickly how to manipulate you to get different responses. Testing out what you react to and which scent meant what.
When it's a euphoric intimacy, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla isn't so strong. It's diluted some, like a soft cloudy mist.
More emotionally frustrated intimacy smells far more tart, almost coppery. It often reminds him of blood in his mouth, soaking into his lungs and taste buds like tar.
When you're in a far more glum mood, you smell like rain on cement. He's starved for it.
You're so pretty beneath him. Eyes lidded and swollen lips parted loosely as he scissors his middle and forefinger against your velvet walls.
Logan bumps his palm against your clit and you let you a gasp – your hand jumping from the bedsheets to grip his forearm.
"Right there, huh?"
You can hear the smirk in his voice and you give him a nod at that, tucking your chin to your chest as he moves his other hand to press one of your thighs upwards to where your knee almost hits your breast.
He slips his hand from your cunt, moving to pull your other hand to hold your own thighs to your chest.
Wordlessly, he kneels and pulls you by your hips to the edge of the bed before hooking his arms around your waist.
Without warning, he runs the flat of his tongue up the length of your cunt to your clit with a deep hum.
You know he can feel you shiver beneath him by the way he smiles against the sopping folds of your cunt.
"Feel good?" He chuckles softly, looking up at you from between your thighs.
You're reduced to broken whines and choked gasps, but you manage a hum in response, readjusting your grip on the backs of your thighs as Logan slips his tongue past your folds.
You smell of faint cinnamon.
"Lo," you sigh, throwing your arm over your eyes with a chipped whine.
Logan hums into your cunt, the sharp of his nose rocking back and forth against your clit.
He unwraps his arm from around your waist, reaching upwards to weave your hands together with a soft squeeze.
"Haa... ahh." Your voice grows watery as Logan brings you closer to the edge.
"M'close, Lo," you breathe, readjusting your hand on your thigh to keep it close to your chest.
"I know, sweetie." He circles his tongue around your bundle of nerves before blowing a stream of air onto your clit, "m'gonna get you there."
When he sucks on your clit again, you're cumming almost immediately with a shiver that simmers itself down your spine to your toes.
"There we go. It's a big one, huh."
A wave of vanilla woven with cinnamon washes over him and he nearly cums in his jeans.
You hear Logan before you've noticed he's moved from between your legs to stand above you, thumb circling your clit softly.
Whining, you turn your head into his forearm beside you.
"Doin' so good, sweetie," He coos, stroking his hand, still held by your own, down the side of your face before placing a kiss on your temple.
Your smell is much more prominent there, as though it travels through the roots of your hair and tickles itself through your soft skin.
Another shiver runs down your spine, causing the air on your arms and the nape of your neck to stand.
"Need you." You sob, voice muffled by the skin of his arm.
He settles down beside you on the bed, chin propped up on the flat of his right palm, squeezing your hand with his.
"You're okay."
The vanilla sinners throughout the room, and he swears he can see it in the dust that floats past the Amber hues of his room.
ever wish you could just stay in one moment?
i’m on the floor
cute little painfully nerdy 2000s ellie williams x popular bimbo fem reader part 3
since yall hornballs wanted smut so badly 🙄
cw : smut, public sex in class, degradation, ellie’s horny fantasies, wet dreams, plot twist kinda
the bell rings. you don’t rush to your seat—you never do. you glide in late like always, cherry gum in your mouth, tight hot pink juicy couture velour zip up barley zipped up with your black lacy VS push up bra peeking through. a boy stares. you don’t care. you’re too busy reapplying your gloss with your middle finger.
ellie sees you before you see her, she recognizes your heavy, dreamy scent of the love spell body spray from 5 miles away.
she’s already at her desk, hood up, legs bouncing under the table like she’s got an energy drink in her bloodstream. which, honestly? she probably does. her fingers are smudged with pencil and her notebooks half open, little doodles of swords and boobs peeking through the lined paper. she’s not ready. for anything.
mr. brooks clears his throat.
“alright, students. group projects. DNA replication and genetic variation. pages 94 through 99. picked your partners for you.”
groans ripple across the room. you roll your eyes, zoning out as he goes on to list random pairs of students in the class… “david and rebecca, ashley and karen, adrian and braxton, becky and jared-“ then suddenly.
“y/n and… ellie.”
you look up from your manicured hands in your lap instantly, silence. you make a disgusted look. brows furrowed, lips pouted.
but ellie? she jerks in her seat like someone pulled a string in her back. her eyes snap up and lock on you, wide behind her crooked-ass glasses. her whole face goes red—forehead, ears, even her damn neck. she freezes. then immediately starts fumbling with her the spirals on her notebook, like she thinks if she looks busy enough, maybe you’ll ignore her.
you don’t.
you sigh heavily as you take your time walking over, swinging your hips just enough to make two boys whisper. you drop your bag next to her desk. she looks at it like it’s a bomb.
you sit down.
“so,” you say, voice flat, bored, already annoyed. “you gonna write the whole thing or just f*ck yourself to it?”
she chokes. like physically chokes, hand flying to her chest, eyes bugging out. she tries to answer, fails, tries again, and somehow makes it worse.
“i—i don’t—i wasn’t—f*ck mysel-?—no—what—”
you stare. blow a bubble. let it pop, then giggle in her face.
her face is ruined. her mouth opens and closes like a fish. she looks like she wants to die. and then crawl under the desk. and then die again.
you lean in, just a little, enough for your perfume to hit her nose.
“i still remember that sketchbook from last week by the way.”
ellie flinches.
“i wasn’t—you know.. it’s for anatomy,” she blurts, which makes no sense, and she knows it. “not like, your—i didn’t mean your anatomy, just—like—the concept of anatomy, which, like, technically—f*ck—”
you tilt your head.
ellie covers her face with her hands and groans, long and low, like she’s in pain.
“do you touch yourself to those with your hoodie on, or do you take it off to set the mood?”
“please,” she whispers. “please shut up.”
you giggle again, soft and wicked.
adrian—your adrian—is three rows in front of y’all, hearing the whole thing. you haven’t even acknowledged him since class started either.
ellie peeks through her fingers. she’s twitchy. sweaty. miserable. and when you pull your chair closer, she damn near leaps out of her skin.
“we’re gonna get an A,” you hum, dragging her open textbook toward you. “you’re gonna do all the work. and you’re gonna keep your nasty little sketchbook zipped up tight.”
she nods. small. frail.
“say ‘yes, ma’am.’”
“…yes, ma’am.”
you smile. pop another bubble.
this is gonna be fun.
ellie keeps her eyes locked on the textbook. she hasn’t spoken in five minutes. not since the “yes, ma’am.” her handwriting’s shaking. her cheeks are red. her hoodie sleeves are halfway over her fingers again, clenched tight like she’s praying.
you lean back in your seat, legs spread just a little wider, flipping your hair over your shoulder. her eyes flicker for a second—just a second—to the inside of your thigh under the desk.
you catch it.
“are you even paying attention?” you ask, fake sweet. “or are you too busy trying not to cum in your boxers?”
her pencil snaps in half.
“i’m—i’m paying attention,” she mumbles, head down, the tips of her ears red like she’s been slapped. “mitosis. cell cycle. S-phase. DNA replication. i—i know it.”
you hum. press your knee against hers under the desk. she jerks back like she’s been shocked. you look down at her shaky hand on the table. long, twitchy fingers. drum and guitar callused.
slowly, you reach out. grab her wrist. guide it down.
“wh—what are you—” she tries to pull away, but she’s weak. pathetic. you’re stronger. meaner. so much prettier. you press her hand against your bare thigh, just above the hem of your skirt. warm skin. smooth. soft.
she stops breathing.
“f*ck,” she whispers, wide-eyed, voice cracking. “you—you can’t—i’ll f*cking—”
you don’t let go.
“don’t be a p*ssy,” you murmur, eyes half-lidded. “it’s just a little skin, right? nothing you haven’t seen in your nasty little sketches.”
her fingers twitch.
you push her hand higher. just a little.
the edge of your thong peeks out. she squeezes her eyes shut, like she can block it out. but her fingers stay.
shaking. burning. gripping your thigh like it’s keeping her alive. ellie whimpers.
you smile, slow and wicked and keep her hand right where it is. she doesn’t move at first.
your fingers are still around her wrist, soft but firm, like a leash she doesn’t want to escape. her palm is pressed flat to your thigh, skin burning hot, nails barely grazing you. you’re looking ahead like nothing’s happening. like you’re so fucking bored. like her hand being between your legs is just part of your routine.
ellie’s brain? completely fried. ‘f*ck. f*ck. f*ck’ she thought.
she doesn’t know where to look. her eyes are flicking between the worksheet and your lip gloss and your thigh and the window and the corner of the floor like any of it will help her not lose it.
her face is flushed. her mouth’s dry. her hoodie’s too hot and her fingers are twitching because all she can think about is—
‘she’s soft. she’s so soft. i can’t—f*ck—i can’t.’
you’re right next to her. in the flesh. warm. sighing softly. looking down, pencil in hand while pretending to read the textbook like her hand isn’t right there.
and now?
her fingers start to move.
slow. slight. like she doesn’t even realize at first. like muscle memory. like her horniness has taken over completely.
she slides the tips up, just a little.
then down.
tiny little strokes. featherlight. testing you. seeing what she can get away with.
you shift in your seat.
press your legs together.
you don’t look at her. but you don’t stop her either.
so she keeps going.
and her heart is slamming in her chest.
she’s so wet in her boxers, her clit becoming a rapid beating second heartbeat to the point it’s actually painful. ellie thinks she might cum just from this.
her fingers dip slightly beneath the curve of your thigh. under the edge of your thong. just barely.
her breath stutters.
you’re wet. not soaked. not dripping. just warm and soft and slightly damp and f*ckf*ck—
she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from groaning. her forehead hits the desk. just for a second. to ground herself.
you look at her finally. say nothing. just smirk. and she knows you know exactly what you’re doing.
she doesn’t say a word. she just keeps stroking.
slow, pathetic, desperate.
and no one can see a thing.
yet, her fingers go still when she feels it. the way your c*nt clenches as she pushes past the edge of your soaked thong.
how easy it is to slip in.
how tight you are. how f*cking warm you are.
like you’ve been waiting.
ellie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding—shaky, low—and stares at your face like it’s the only thing that matters.
you’re still looking at your notes. like this is nothing.
like her fingers aren’t buried inside you right now, moving slow, dragging against that soft spot she’s imagined so many times her body could do it with her eyes closed.
and it kinda is.
her fingers start working in that perfect rhythm she’s practiced—on herself, in the dark, in the shower, during her breakdowns after seeing you in a mini skirt.
she curls them just right.
presses deep.
slides out slick and slow, then back in, faster.
you twitch.
your thighs shift.
but you don’t look at her.
and that’s what makes her lose it.
“f*ck,” she whispers. her head is down, lips barely moving. “you’re gonna make me cum in my f*ckin’ boxers, sh*t.”
you don’t flinch. you just turn the page in the textbook, lip caught between your teeth.
ellie’s eyes flicker to your mouth.
her fingers thrust deeper. faster. the sound is obscene but muffled by the low hum of the class, the hum of the lights, the buzz of old ac.
“this p*ssy’s so f*ckin’ warm,” she whispers, voice cracked. “you’re gonna—geez—you’re gonna ruin me.”
you pulse around her. her legs shake.
she’s gritting her teeth. trying not to grunt. trying not to moan.
“can’t believe i get to finger you in bio,” she breathes, nose brushing your shoulder. “you’re so mean to me—so f*ckin’ mean—and you’re so wet. you like this? letting the loser do this to you?”
your pencil scratches across the paper like nothing’s happening.
you’re breathing harder now. lips parted. eyes still down.
but your hips start moving—tiny little rocks forward against her fingers—and that’s when ellie knows you’re close.
she curves them deep, presses her palm against your clit, and starts pumping harder.
you clamp your thighs.
grip the edge of your worksheet.
swallow a whimper.
“good f*ckin’ girl,” she mutters, barely audible. “take it. just take it. i’ll make you cum so hard you won’t walk to 5th period.”
and you?
you turn your head just slightly.
lips brush her ear.
“then do it, perv.”
ellie’s gone. she’s imagined this so many times. in her sketchbook. in the shower. in her f*cking dreams.
you sitting on her lap, whispering in her ear, your lip gloss smearing on her neck, your tits bouncing while you ride her neon green strap—
you calling her a freak while grinding on her face—
you licking her fingers while sitting on her bed like a brat—
suddenly, she jerks awake with a sharp inhale, eyes wide, hoodie tangled around her arms, face flushed, sheets kicked off the bed.
her room’s still dark, lit only by the faint glow of her lava lamp and the blinking red light of her PS3. her sketchbook’s open next to her—flipped to a half-finished drawing of you sitting on her lap with your thong around one ankle.
her hand’s still in her boxers.
and yeah… they’re soaked.
disgusting. tragic. predictable.
ellie groans. drags her forearm over her face like it’ll wipe the sin away. mutters to herself.
“f*ck”
her voice cracks. she rolls onto her back, staring at the popcorn textured ceiling. her stomach flips. her hips twitch.
and suddenly she’s grinding her hand into her boxers again—again—because the image won’t leave her brain.
your face when you bit your lip.
your whisper in her ear.
your p*ssy squeezing her fingers like it needed her.
it’s too bad this is one of them. just another one of her pathetic dreams.
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