*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐈𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

-Part (1/?)

Pairing: Tarzan!Abby x Explorer!Reader (Tarzan AU)

(Warnings, 18+ ONLY): DubCon, 6'4 Abby, Owen, Thoughts of drowning, Mentions of death, Sexually touched while unconscious, Forced orgasm, Size difference, Manhandling, Possessive!Abby, Angst, And also Fluff -(Because Abby is a little fucking golden retriever.)

Summary: Reader and her friend Nora were offered to go exploring at Sea. Agreeing to it, she didnt think she'd end up on her way to an Island that was said to have many riches reside there. On her way there, a horrific storm spontaneously bombarded her and her friends boat. When she awakes from the aftermath of the shipwreck, she didnt think that she'd awaken to a soft giant trying to take care of her.

Word Count: 5036

You knew you shouldn't have listened to him.

Now you are suffering the fallout of his choices.

This was no ordinary storm.

You weren't able to see over the monstrous waves.

The moon tries to slip through the growing storm clouds, cascading against the powerful rain that continues to pelt your body.

The waves were nearly tipping the boat over on itself.

The wind causes aggressive whistles through the growing cold air.

But all you could hear was the horrific screams of your friends over the grumble of thunder.

With no choice but to continue being whisked away, you unwillingly drift into darkness.

prophetic

abby anderson x scar!reader

cw : mentions of canon violence, injuries, canon doesn’t exist here, slow burn as fuck, literal bare minimum romance but like ,, you can feel it.

wc : 5.5k

a/n : i did NOT proof read this ,, i finished it at 4am and it was 11 pages. nooooo way. hope you enjoy !

a/n : i am so sorry if this is awful - this is my first time writing but im doing my best for all my abby sluts! and my fav nickname for abby is bibi so thats what i use in the story, just so u know!!! xoXo (n let me know if u want a part 2, mwah!)

cw: (i have no idea how these work im so sorry) use of ‘daddy’, mentions of abby’s life changing strap, nsfw, lesbians being irrecoverably horny, manhandling obvi, no real smut but allusions to it

ever since you and abby had started dating, she would find any excuse to show off her strength . it had started with small things, her hand dropping to the small of your back to guide you while you were walking or even just lifting you to sit on her lap. but after the first few times, she started noticing the way you squirmed when she moved you with such ease. abby was aware of how strong she was, god knows how long she spent working on her physique, but she never knew how much her strength got to your head.

it was a total power trip for her, seeing how easily she could lift you up or even carry you at a moments notice. she wanted, 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥, to be the protector in your relationship and her strength made her feel even more deserving of that title. of course she didn’t want to hurt you, as she had always been so gentle with you when she moved you …. but she just knew you wouldn’t mind the rough treatment.

she knew she had to test the waters to make sure it was her strength that was making you blush and not something else (although she was almost positive, she just adored seeing your small form squirming in her lap). so after you both had gotten up in the morning, she watched you intently as you walked all around the room to try and put together an outfit, just waiting for the right time to grab you. she had even worn one of her many muscle shirts in order to have her arms on full display for you. “baby, can you come here for a second?” she called out to you, your body turning to face her the moment she spoke up. you quickly nodded your head, always quick to obey any orders she had for you.

you made your way over, standing between her legs as she sat on the edge of the bed. “was i making too much noise for the morning time?” you asked softly, worried you had made too much of a fuss and she was going to have to ask you to settle down. “not at all, doll. i just wanted to talk to you” she said quickly, her arms reaching out to you before you can even blink and she lifted you as if you were as light as a feather in order to place you on her lap.

you could feel her arms flex as she lifted you to position you just how she wanted and your brain immediately became foggy. your gaze fell towards her perfectly toned arm that was now holding you securely against her. “is there something on your mind?” she asks, a knowing smirk appearing on her face as she watched your wandering eyes. you didn’t even flinch as she spoke, your eyes still fixated on her arm. “hey, angel, im speaking to you” she said firmly, realizing you had focused all your attention on her muscles that she may or may not have been flexing on purpose. your head finally snapped up, looking towards her with those big doe eyes that she couldn’t get enough of.

“oh bibi, im so sorry. i didn’t hear you, can you please say it again?” you spoke quickly, a soft pout on your lips as you tried to ignore the heat growing between your legs. she smiled at the affectionate nickname and nodded her head in response. “i was asking if there was something on your mind. the way you look at me makes me think you are thinking some things that you should be sharing with me instead of keeping them hidden” she said in a calm tone. she wasn’t playing fair - not in the slightest but she already knew that. you always wanted to please her so badly, you couldn’t lie to her face without her knowing.

your pout deepened at her words, averting your gaze down to your lap. “s’ too embarrassing” you mumbled. abby was having none of that, quickly lifting your chin up with her thumb and pointer finger to bring your focus back to her face. “look me in the eye when you talk. we have talked about this before, baby” she reprimanded, her tone being stern but gentle in order to keep you comfortable. “now, i want you to tell me what is on your mind. you know you can tell me anything”. she knew the power she held and knew just how to coax the words out of you.

you nodded your head dumbly, leaning in to her touch to get more comfortable. “been thinking about how strong you are. when you move me out of the way like i am the lightest thing you’ve ever touched. n’ when you carry me out of the bath it makes me all…” you scrunched your nose ever so slightly , not liking how embarrassing this was for you. “go on, angel” abby insisted, encouraging you to continue. “it just… it makes me all wet. you are so much bigger than me and it makes me think of all the kinds of things you could do to me. i would let you do anything to me, bibi”. you felt the slightest relief at finally being able to tell her how you felt, though it did nothing to help the ache in your cunt.

abby couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face, pulling you closer so that you were spread over her lap- face to face with her. “doesn’t that feel so good to get off your chest, baby?” she cooed, letting her hands rest on your hips. you quickly nodded your head, happy with how pleased she was with you. “but i want you to tell me what you want me to do. you know i live to please my sweet girl, so tell me what you want and i can finally give it to you”.

the way she was gazing at you with so much love took away any embarrassment you were feeling in the moment and you were finally ready to say what you had been fantasizing about. “i think about…. bout’ you fucking me while you are holding me up. i know you could cause you always carry me so easily. i want you to treat me like a doll that you can just throw around, thats what i want to be. i want you to make me bounce on your cock when im on top of you”. you were growing restless now, unconsciously rolling your hips against her lap to try and relieve yourself while you finish telling her what you needed. “to grab my hips n’ force me up n’ down over n’ over till im crying. i wanna feel you deep in my tummy, bibi. i think about you pinning me down to the bed to fuck into me and i know i wouldn’t be able to escape you at all. you are so strong and so powerful, i just want you to make me your doll”. your tone was whiney as you finished, frustration growing evident on your pouting expression.

“you have such a filthy mind, baby. i just wanted to hold my little girlfriend, thinking that you were just a sweet innocent thing when in reality, all you were thinking of was me fucking into your sopping cunt” she said, mocking you in the slightest bit simply because she couldn’t help it. her hands were pressing your hips down to allow you to get a little more friction, already feeling the warmth from your pussy on her clothed thigh. you were quick to shake your head, not wanting to seem like such a slut. “nonono, m’ sorry bibi! jus’ wanted to feel good…. you always make me feel so good” you whined out shamefully , tears clouding your vision as you tried to keep your focus on her. “nothing to be sorry for, doll” she spoke smoothly, feeling the way your hips stuttered against her at the nickname. “you just need to be manhandled, hm? need to feel my fat cock inside your cunt while i have you pressed against the wall, isn’t that right?” she hummed, the vulgar words falling from her lips like it was nothing.

you could’ve cried at how relieved you were that she understood your needs, nodding you head feverishly. “yes! only want daddy’s cock, only one for me” you said, your words slurring as you continued fucking yourself against her lap. abby couldn’t have been more pleased, finally hearing exactly what she needed to hear. “thats my sweet girl. you know daddy will give you anything you ask for” she said, always loving when you called her that. being called daddy had never turned her on before she met you but with how much you adored her strength and always relied on her to control you, she couldn’t get enough of it.

abby lifted you up without warning, pushing you back down against the bed so she could get on top of you. she had you pinned down, the weight of her body against your own making you moan in desperation. you already looked so fucked out, cheeks still red and your lips puffy from your constant pouts. abby finally provided some relief, leaning down to kiss you while making sure to keep your hands pinned to your sides. you couldn’t have been more relieved, trying to lift your head up to lean into the kiss as much as you could. abby adored the way you kissed her since you were always so messy, letting her tongue push against your own as saliva ran down your chin. you had never been with anyone before abby and she loved that, knowing she would be the only one who ever got to be with you like this. your inexperience always made abby coo in between kisses, mumbling about what a messy girl you were. she pulled away to catch her breath and watched as the saliva that connected your mouths fell onto your chest. “lets get this pretty pussy ready for my cock” she said smoothly, her hand pressing against your clothed pussy in a manner that made you squirm.

“promise you will be rough with me?” you asked softly, smiling up at her with eyes full of love. “of course, baby. i’m going to fuck you like the sweet little doll you are”

ABBY ANDERSON NSFW ALPHABET

AN: I’m tiki!! this is the first fic I’ve posted to tumblr :D super self-indulgent, a bunch of different kinks. started writing this on my birthday and it beat my ass for 3 weeks. I hope you all like it!!! this was supposed to be strictly nsfw but then somehow it became fluff midway because she deserves it ;-; crazy how much love i have for the pretty girl who lives in my playstation 5

content tags (many of these are just ments or glossed over):

reader insert fic, discusses an established relationship between Abby and r | fingering (r! receiving) | cunnilingus (r! receiving) | strap-on sex (r!receiving) | strap-on blowjob, packing (all in ‘Toys’) | cum eating and swapping mentioned briefly | degradation and rough sex in ‘Risk’ and ‘Volume’ | mentions of mindbreak and dollification in ‘Dirty Secret’ | strength/helplessness kink | exercise kink/play(????) in ‘Stamina’ | praise, breeding, and primal sex kink | erotic asphyxiation (specifically headlocking) in ‘Quickie’ | public masturbation in ‘Jack Off’ | objectification (played with, in ‘Stamina’ | spit drinking, spitting and other bodily fluids in ‘Risk’ and ‘Toys’ | overstimulation in ‘Unfair’ | inner monologue alludes to fisting but it doesn’t actually happen ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ in ‘Quickie’ | assplay, anal stimulation if you blink in ‘Wild Card’ | mommy kink in ‘Volume,’ similar verbiage, different context in ‘Kink’

MEN AND MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY

word count: 5.4k (oof.)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

abby’s aftercare is the stuff of dreams. you’ll be laying on the bed, still restless and trembling from whatever scene was prior, feeling the dent in the bed smooth out as abby tugs on her boxers and stumbles topless, hair messy, and strap probably still wet (;-;) into the bathroom. you would hear the metal of the harness clatter down to the tile floor before she brings back a couple of damp, warm towels to wipe you down with. she’d massage your back and thighs and ass, making sure to work out all of the tension and soothe any aches, occasionally rubbing lotion on your skin and healing cream over any scratch marks she left behind, soothing any bruises she left behind by rubbing gentle circles over them with her knuckles and icing them if need be. kissing and sucking on any exposed skin she can get to, smoothing down your hair, and cleaning out your tears with a cloth. if it was any more intense play like degradation or humiliation, she would reassure you, looking you into your eyes, kissing you, and rubbing little lines into your cheek with the pads of her thick thumbs, telling you that no matter what, you’re her forever choice, that she loves you more than anything on this earth.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

abby spends a lot of time in the gym sculpting her perfect body, so naturally, her favourite body parts are her thighs and biceps. she’s extremely cocky about her physique, how it draws stares, elicits whispers, and wets panties. lords it over her partner and has a major strength/helplessness kink, pinning you down and watching how the muscles in your arms pulsate and flex but barely make a move. It’s mind-blowing how she can flip you over, legs in the air, back resting over one shoulder with a heavy palm over your tummy, and hammer into you with two thick, calloused fingers until your release is weeping down her wrists and forming a steady drip onto her chest. revels in how your might is only a fraction of hers. adores body worship, giving and receiving; the sensation of her partner running their tongue over the veins and scars on her body is enough to drive her insane with lust. abby is obsessed with her lover’s body, and if you have any insecurities, they’ll be constantly met with kisses, rubs, hickies, and bite marks. her favourite part of your body is your stomach; rubbing it when you're sick, using it as a pillow when you’re cuddling on the bed and watching an old movie, or using it for grip when she’s hitting it from the b-.

nonsexually, she thinks that her nose is the best feature on her face, the easiest way to steal a rare giggle or smile from her is to give it a kiss, and she always rubs it against yours before you both fall asleep at night.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Abby doesn’t orgasm particularly fast; she needs a lot more love and attention to cum well and cum hard, so you have to take your time with her; gets really soft and emotional with how patient and gentle you are with her body. gets primarily visual arousal, and when she gets riled up, it's like a water fountain, with super wet stained panties, her lips all pretty and glistening, literally talking to you with squelches and squishy smacking noises ringing out of her juicy cunny. naturally, she gets super shy and red-faced about this. squirt drinker with no regrets, really into the idea of cum swapping, taking it upon herself to make out with you after eating your pussy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

abby’s dirty secret is that she has a huge dependence kink. she fantasizes about you to being happily stupid, mindbroken, eating out of her palm as she pampers you, creating her own personal plaything and dolly. being able to take what she wants when she wants it, or dressing you up how she wants to see you and having you wear it out, no matter how revealing or embarrassing the outfit is. wants you to see her as your saviour, taking her fingers, or her tongue, or her cock easily, never thinking big girl thoughts, never thinking period because it makes your head hurt, and when your head hurts, you get sad :((. feeding you, clothing you, bathing you, keeping you sheltered and happy with your simple needs in your simple, silly little head. abby is a natural protector and provider, so she does all of these things automatically anyways, but the added arousal of you needing her, of allowing her to own you in every way, being worshipped by you, and being your only safe space adds a level of eroticism that she’s shy to admit.

of course, you would always be content, always joyful to make your owner smile and feel good! happily offering up your holes or going in between her thighs like a good dolly should, because you’re grateful to her. she provides everything else, so why not?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

abby is not thoroughly experienced with long-term dynamics, she’s had a decent amount of casual sex, but this is a rare foray into actual *romance.* she’s ambitious and has tried different things, but she needs a push sometimes to be more vocal with communicating her sexual needs or telling you what she wants to be done to her in the bedroom. over time and with comfort and trust, she'll become more comfortable with setting boundaries, introducing kinks and other types of play, but she starts shy and closed off. on a purely physical side, became very attentive and skilled over a short amount of time, and is willing to try pretty much anything that isn’t a hard limit.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

abby is obsessed with any position she can show off her physical capabilities in while she’s fucking you. hoisting your legs over your head and pinning them to the bed in mating press while she slams to the hilt like a restless madwoman, each thrust grinding into that rough, almond-shaped sore deep in your wetness that sends shutdown instructions to your brain? check. across a desk, table, countertop, whatever, holding you in a mock-wheelbarrow position, one leg crooked through her arm while the other struggles for balance against your weight and the pattered bump of her fucking in and out of you as your hands scramble the table, fighting for a grip? check. using her superior planking skills to bear all of her weight onto you while she sloughs her cock in and out of you while you lay on your stomach, helpless but to take it, strong arms wrapped around your head as a hand plays in the hair at the crown of your skull? check.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

tries to portray a serious stoic dom during scenes, but sometimes she’ll fuck up a sexy line she’s been brainstorming and you’ll hear her try, (and fail) to stifle a snort and giggle. fights herself not to crack jokes at some of the silly shit the two of you say when you’re peaking, or your varying o-faces. during vanilla sex and when she’s not trying to put on a persona, abby can be very goofy in the bedroom.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

expect tufts of shiny, curly dirty blonde hair around the perimeter of her pussy. it might trail down her thighs, depending on how grown it is, and blends into a soft happy trail going up her stomach to her belly button. if it gets too tangly or hot outside, she might trim it a bit with scissors, but other than that, abby doesn’t really care or think about ‘keeping up’ with her pubic hair. word flies through the stadium that hairy pussy is her weakness, so if you keep yours bushier, don’t be surprised if abby has to compose herself before she digs in.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

emotional intimacy is crucial to her, and constantly being in a space where just for survival she has to compartmentalise her humanity wears down on her mentally. she’s confused when she wakes up in the morning after your first time together, and you’re cuddled into the space between her shoulder and her underarm; sunlight dappling your face as it leaks in through the holes in the privacy shield against the window. after you promised one another that there would be no feelings, no strings attached, just the two of you passing the time and having fun, she doesn’t wake up alone.

sometimes, you’re so sweet to her that she has to fight back tears, which she promptly plays off. you run the edge of your nails up and down her scalp while she’s still bathing in the afterglow of an orgasm, and she feels free. abby loves when you give her pet names, big girl, baby, goldie, prince charming, but when she slides her flat palms under your shirt, rubbing up and down your torso, and you breathe out just ‘abs,’ that's when she knows she’s found her way home.

in her eyes, there is no god, but she understands worship when she fucks into you slowly, gently, opening you up bit by bit, her whispers almost inaudible in the crook of your neck as she cradles you in her hands like she’s trying to capture a moment in time; she understood what it meant to be sanctified when you kiss for a long time, hands exploring one another, all of her hard on all of your soft, and don’t end up fucking. for years she’s felt like a tool for other people to use, so it’s hard for her to verbalise her needs in fear of being shut down, but somehow, you just… know. she lets her guard down for you, gets too pliant and lazy and comfortable in a way that she’s still learning to be okay with. she’s still working on emotional availability and being open with herself and others, but you remind her that she exists, and abby is forever grateful for that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

abby isn’t super chronically horny, but will definitely turn to her hand if it’s been an extended patrol run where she has to be away from you for multiple nights at a time. she thanks her lucky stars the first time she opens her pack while camping out with her team at Eight and finds naughty polaroids you snuck in her bag. she finds it easy to treat her insomnia on those nights by shoving her fingers deep into her pussy and curling against her swollen g-spot, while her thumb flicks against the mass of her clit, sending shockwaves that spasm her toes and travel up her spine to the top of her head.

she has to use the flat of her palm against her mouth to stifle adorable, high pitched moans as her hips snap wildly, chasing an orgasm that rips through her body, leaving her panting heavily and leaking the contents of her fucked-out hole down her ass. she’s woken you up before with how loud and intense her sounds can be, so she hopes she can keep quiet well enough to not wake her squadmates stirring in their sleep.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

abby is heavily turned on by praise; tell her that she’s fucking you so good, that she’s hitting that spot just right, that she’s so pretty and strong and takes care of you just how you need it, and you’ll drive her crazy with love and lust. despite the fact that she reasonably can’t, abby always gets a kick out of you begging her to cum inside of you, to give you a baby, which she happily obliges, pressing deep into you with your feet to your ears, taking advantage of how much bigger and stronger she is, how tiny and pathetic and weak you are when you struggle, licking tears of ecstasy from your eyes and growling, “you want me to make you into a mommy, huh? –to blow my fuckin’ load deep in you?”

loves primal sex, fucking you on your tummy, against your bedroom door, in a headlock, over the table… enough said, just hunting you like prey and using all of her physical dominance to control your body like an animal, wrenching orgasm after orgasm out of your body even when you’re begging and pleading that it’s too much. she wants to dumb you out, ruin your mind and make you think only of her, living, breathing, existing only off of how good she makes you feel.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

abby is on whatever you’re on, honestly. she’s more careful at the stadium or the FOB, not wanting to do anything that jeopardises your reputations or her cushy position at isaac’s right hand. okay with weighing risks at home base, but she’s too paranoid and focused on keeping you safe in a dangerous world to do anything when the two of you are outside the fence. her baby isn’t a soldier, so you might be more idealistic and naive about what lies outside of the walls. it’s hard for her to let her guard down when you’re too sweet, too optimistic, too soft, and there are a million terrible, horrible ways she could lose you lurking around every corner. the most you’ll get while on patrol is a quick make-out session, a couple of playful slaps to your ass or a hand on your waist pulling you from here to there, and at *most* a little bit of bump and grind in a deadbolted room. if she can guarantee your safety and comfort, she’ll oblige. but she’s not hard to convince, and she can’t deny your puppy eyes when you ask for a late-night quickie in the community showers. but all in all, she prefers her bedroom, where the two of you can be as loud as you want, where she can make the bed shake and rattle and hear you whine and moan and cry as much as she wants.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

loses her mind over tension. sexual tension, romantic tension, when you two are so pissed at each other that you could tear the other apart with bare hands. firm believer that the make-up sex is the best part of a fight. heated arguments turn into rough, primal fucking to fix both of your attitudes. the two of you stealing heated glances across the cafeteria while you work the consignment desk turns into the two of you huddled in a utility closet, abby’s cheeks warming the space between your breasts, raking a finger through your folds painfully slow. when you see her after a long rotation in her militia gear, bloody, covered in dirt and whatever else but still whole and still yours, your soldier, your protector– it’s like the two of you go into fucking heat, romping like bunnies for hours while you reward her for a job well done, letting her burn off all of that pent up adrenaline and jumpiness from the day.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

she’s really anxious about hard impact. she’s painfully aware of how much stronger she is than the average woman, and she’ll never get anywhere more physical than a firm slap on your ass or pussy, or little slaps to your cheek to redirect you during play. she’s terrified of hurting you, and she’ll never go farther than that, even if you really want her to.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

abby’s a head monster. can eat you out for HOURS to the point of overstimulation. gripping and slapping your ass, squishing your pussylips between two fingers, relishing in the way that your gush leaks from the seams, wrenching your thighs apart so she can have easy access to fuck you out with her tongue. she’s a bit impartial to receiving when you first get together. she considers herself a service top; she gets off watching you get off, and great head is infrequent at the stadium. that all changed the first time you offered, tongue plying down into her musky heat, savouring the salty-sweetness of her warmth. from there, she was lost, fucking your mouth and chasing her own pleasure. the only thing breaking her out of her haze was the feeling of you lightly slapping her inner thigh, running out of breath from the heavy palm tangled in your hair holding you tight to her cunt. she apologised profusely afterward that she was too blissed out, that she’ll be more mindful next time. you two still laugh about how the head was so good she tried to kill you; poor baby doesn’t know her own strength :(

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Most times, if she's lethargic and sleepy from a long shift she’ll let you take complete control, riding her until your orgasm and then falling asleep on her tummy. Other times like days off, she's in full control; fucking you like she hates you in the prone position as she pushes you down with her weight, or laying in bed and holding your leg up in the air effortlessly as she fucks you slow and romantic from the side.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

abby desires you in every way. it doesn’t really matter to her, as long as she can get her hands on you. she loves quickies for their tense, ’try not to get caught’ vibe and the challenge of seeing how fast she can ruin you with just her fingers and tongue, but in reality, she’s not very good at them. she’s fucked you ten minutes before she had to roll out for patrol, just because she was pent up from last night and you looked soo fucking irresistible. fucking you fast and rough with her arm around your throat, doling out breath as she saw fit, your eyes rolling back as you got brought to orgasm and then taken back to the starting line over and over. it carried over so late that they had a rookie come to her door and knock looking for her. needless to say that rookie got chewed out and taken off her next patrol for insubordination.

but I think she relishes getting to be slow with you. everything in her life is so fast, so twitchy, always on edge, so she really values getting to lay down in bed with you and take you down piece by piece. spreading open your lips and working you open finger by finger until you’re all swollen down there and leaking over her palm, pussy so cute and red and puffy and just *begging* for her thumb to slide in too. introducing the strap to your well-used, well-warmed-up cunt, and analysing every muscle in your face as you keen at the insertion. she’ll rub your clit achingly slow, listening as you babble for more, to stop teasing, to fuck you the way that only she knows, and marvels at how your hard clit stands at attention and bounces around her fingertips. when she’s done, abby wants it to be hours after, your moans still stuck to the ceiling, pussy clenching and unclenching, wetting the sheets as you’re left a defiled slut, but most importantly, hers and hers only.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

abby anderson is good for being adventurous in bed, but she’s only really comfortable with simple risks; erotic asphyxiation, rope bondage, spanking. one night, you asked her if she could bring her service pistol into the bedroom –unloaded, disassembled and reassembled, of course– and it was a firm ‘no.’ but she still thinks about it sometimes, not gonna lie. she never wants to put you in a place where recklessness can get one, or both of you seriously injured or worse.

she’s not really into the whole public sex thing, but what she didn’t know, however, was that she was getting into a relationship with a crazy fucking daredevil. you’re practically owned by trying to convince her to fuck in risky, dangerous places.

"babe, why don’t i give you some head? you cleared out this scar camp sooo good–!" "no."

":(( let's scissor in this abandoned tunnel, then!" "stop. we gotta sweep the area for infected."

"are you sure you don’t want some pussy off the side of this ferris wh–" "what the fuck did i say?"

under normal circumstances, abby wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to punish you for being bratty, but right now she’s trying to keep her lunch inside, thankyouverymuch!

sidebar but sometimes she’ll just snap after all of your failed attempts at seducing her, pushing you into the dirt wherever you are, and just… starts savagely hard domming you, sheathing her strap into your cunt with her hand over your mouth and the other fisted in your hair, pulling by the roots, wedging your mouth open and making you swallow thick gobs of her spit.

“this what you wanted, right?” yanking your head up to meet her face, eyes burning with rage. “and you better be fuckin’ quiet. goddamn liability.” she sneers into your ear, bottoming out into you over and over again and battering your cervix and tender inner walls, the pleasure and degradation making fat tears run down your cheeks. fortunately (for her, at least,) she doesn’t have any more problems with disobedience for the rest of the journey back to the FOB.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

dating a gym rat wasn’t your most well-thought-out idea, as she has so much more stamina than you know what to do with. content with fucking you until her muscles burn and you’re begging her that it’s too much, abby treats you like human exercise equipment. when she really needs long-term stress relief, she whispers in your ear, “lay down baby, you’re gonna be my workout buddy, yeah? g’na be my good girl and help me get bigger and stronger?”

she makes you count out how many strokes she gives you, holding you up and bouncing you on her fat dick with nothing else but the strength of her bulging, hard-working muscles supporting every pound of your weight, muttering something to herself about how –this is better than getting on the bench, anyways. you’re surprised when you see her looking over her naked form in the mirror after a long “personal training” session, and she has an actual muscle pump.

after what feels like hours, you’re trying to catch your breath, looking and feeling a fucked out mess, when abby runs her hands back over your ass, kneading and gently ghosting over your ruined pussy with a finger. “got another set in you, i know you do.” and you barely have enough time to get back into position before your eyes are rolling back and she’s ripping a moan out of you, in plank position with her hands on either side of your head as she slides her cock head into your messy, torn-up twat.

...it’s going to be a long session.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

abby’s prized possession is a glittery blue strap-on, eight-and-a-half inches of pure problem, sourced from the ruins of a dilapidated strip mall the two of you stumbled across on patrol. she was a bit impartial to the idea, but figured that it would ease some of the stress off her achy wrists. quickly became hooked, wanting to use it every time you two fucked, and any chance she could crop up, nestling into you while you stood at the sink, hands in the dishes, her fingers getting lost under your bra, squishing a nipple as she sunk deeper inside. she loved how she could see you get more and more fucked out than you ever had off just her tongue alone, could grit her teeth as leather and rough fabric bit into her clit, could marvel in the mirror at the bulge it left when she stuffed it into her briefs before heading out for the day, straining against the grey cotton, altering the tempo of her walk, forcing her natural manspread just a little bit wider. could get a *great* core workout from pounding into your abused holes for hours.

abby is obsessed with strap sucking as foreplay, especially if you fix up those pretty, puffed-up lips with gloss or lipstick so that she can watch as sloppy rings form around the silicone. loves watching you make yourself messy with spit running down your chin as you mouth her strap through her cotton boxers. (loves SLOPPY top, like really throat it, gag, hit the back of your throat choking it down, slobber coating your fingers in messy globs. wants to see tears and snot and spit dribbling out of you from loving her cock the way only you know how.)

one night, you finally give her the green light to act out one of her biggest fantasies, letting her fuck your throat nice and deep, making you gag and drool every time she bottoms out, your domineering girlfriend reaching a hand to rub your clenching throat, whispering a mixture of sweet nothings and abject depravity that sends shockwaves to your clit and makes you ruin your panties.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

abby doesn’t consider herself a sadist but lets it be known that there’s no such thing as a free lunch. knows just when to switch off her puppy-dog girlfriend mode that just wants to make you feel good and turn on her wolf callousness, the cruelty that relishes torturing you. will let you be a brat and then edge you for days as punishment, watching you cry as her finger brushes over your exploited clitty, helpless but to let her go knuckle deep in your little hole and thrashing as she fucks you ever so slowly, savouring your pleas to have mercy. not super into the public sex thing, but will have you sit on her lap or her thigh in the cafeteria or in the common area at the stadium, grinding into your pussy and pretending like nothing is happening while you stifle your moans and your mind goes blank.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Abby is possessive DOWN and, therefore, loud as fuck when you two are at each other. tried to hold back her moans when y’all had first got together, now she’s an animal in the bedroom, groaning and panting in your ear turning into growls and near-inhuman whines and moans. a sucker for call-and-response, and will tease you over and over again until you say, ‘it’s your pussy, this is your pussy,’ in the way she likes it. wants people to walk past her room and know what’s going on, wants to claim you even when you’re not together, wants to make it known that you’re strictly off limits. her mouth gets filthier and more degrading when she’s far gone, and it’s not unlikely for her to growl out that you’re a bitch or a whore, and make you repeat it at the top of your lungs.

when she’s bottoming, it’s a whole different story, keening and moaning into your touch, stifling her whines by biting her lip, a habit that you hate. has pretty, subby moans that only get louder the closer she gets to orgasm. It's enough to ring in your ears and shake the wall; the sounds of her begging and crying can definitely be heard in the hallways and outside on the green, but when she’s close, chasing her peak and pleading to be let go, she doesn’t give a fuck. It’s obvious what it is, what’s going on, that it’s abby begging, “mommy– fuck, please let me get off please lemme fuckin’ cum, ineeditineeditireallyneedit.” it’s the sound that can be heard around the world, but she’s never been approached about it, and at this point she really dares someone to try.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

has a habit of slamming the headboard with her palm when she’s filling you rough and deep with her strap. she’d never turn her pent-up aggression on you, but it fires you up knowing that she’s on the verge of losing it. it makes you crazy, seeing her in her most primal form, bottled-up stress and anger spilling out of her, using your pussy the way she wants, how she thinks you deserve it. also a firm believer in sticking her thumb in your asshole while fucking you from behind.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

five feet and eleven inches of absolutely sculpted muscle. every single part of her looks custom made, every freckle painted on by hand, each scar webbing her skin a reminder of every time she made it back home. unshaven everywhere, her tummy and her legs and her underarms covered in dense, velvety swaths of hair, making her cuddly and soft like a pillow. the doughy fat of her small breasts pokes out over her impressive pectorals; the divot of her chest is covered in a heavy swath of freckles. deep pink, medium-sized nipples, slightly puffy and heavily sensitive. enjoys nipple play and breast stimulation as foreplay; likes having her breasts sucked on during sex. straight hips and thick thighs, deep scar on her left thigh from a raider ambush. has an outie pussy with fat outer lips, inner labia is dark pink and protrudes; the first thing to engorge when aroused. larger than average clit with high sensitivity. less sensitive to penetration, so she usually needs a lot of foreplay or dual stimulation to have a penetrative orgasm. curly blonde pubic hair around the perimeter of her vagina. firm ass, all muscle. brown splotch birthmark on her left asscheek. has an asshole, you know.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

abby prides herself on willpower and self-control, but when it comes to you, she burns hot. she wants her hands, tongue, fingers, everything on you or in you or grabbing anything she can touch. she had secret trysts, an assortment of sneaky links and fuckbuddies to scratch that itch deep inside, but she was c o n t r o l l e d by how much she desired you, how she fucks you like she needs you or else she’ll fucking die.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

such a cuddlebug. after it’s all said and done, expect abby to use the superior force of her body to roll you on top of her, lips full of praise and sweet kisses, and run hands through your hair and down your back until you fall asleep. watches you for a little while, taking in every peaceful, sweet feature on your face until that familiar warm pressure coats her skull and the pull of gravity plays against her eyes. she always goes to bed last, dutiful in making sure you're content, sated and happy, but on days where she doesn’t have to work she’s the last to wake up, a lump forming in her throat when you greet her with breakfast and coffee from the cafeteria, she laughs it off as soreness from sleeping under an open window.

Red Velvet

“Is it true?” Abby asks, breathless. The door behind her shuts as if a bolt of lightning struck it twice. Your body jolts from the impact.

You notice a splatter of mud on the entryway carpet, and your eyes follow the trail to her boots. Did she kick the door closed?

“Y/N,” Abby says, frustration at the edge of her voice. “What I’m hearing—is it true?”

When she fixes her gaze on you, everything beneath your skin turns to ice. Your throat becomes tight, your mouth as dry as twine. You swallow hard against her unwavering stare.

“What are they saying?” you stammer.

“Oh, come on,” she huffs. “Are you really pulling this act with me?”

You reach for the strings of your sweatpants, rolling the frayed plastic tips between your fingers. This scenario has played out inside your mind a thousand times. You’ve wanted this iron weight off your chest for so long—needed relief from the pressure of holding it.

As you struggle to find your words, you look down at your socked feet.

“You cannot be serious,” Abby says. “Three goddamn years, and I had to find out from Mel, of all people? Why, Y/N? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Abby has never raised her voice to you. Suddenly, you can’t remember her sounding any other way.

They accustomed you to the boom of her military commands out in the field before a supply run. You’ve memorized the lilting whip-crack of her laughter in a crowd. Her abruptness and her playfulness. The way she scares new recruits right out of their body armor, only to turn around and giggle into her sleeve. She shares these stories with you each week, long after the stadium has dimmed the lights and moved its citizens into curfew — so careful not to wake the very people she busts her ass to protect each day. It’s been a privilege bearing witness to it. A trusted friend you cherish more than you understand how to express.

“Say something.”

It’s an order. Abby is resolute in her cause, and you will bend to her will. You feel it festering in your core. Wasplike butterflies stirring up inside you and threatening to expose your deepest truths.

You suck in a breath as her tight expression furrows into a deep scowl. “It didn’t seem important,” you say. Your words sound meager and empty to your own ears. You watch her wince, and you know it sounds the same to her. You scramble for an explanation, anything to remove the hurt etched on her face. “There was Owen, y’know? For a long time. And then there was everything else. It never felt like the right moment to bring something like this up.”

“Something like this,” she says, and her grief hits you straight in the gut.

In rare form you witness her insecurities surface and you’re reminded how oblivious she is to her attributes. This woman standing before you, shoulders slumped from the stress she carries, doesn’t recognize the depth of her significance. A million burdensome responsibilities hoisted on her back, dozens of lives in the balance. The sun has risen with her since you met, and you’re desperate for her to hear it.  

Abby Anderson is so many things to so many people.

She’s so many things for you.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you say as your constricted throat transforms into a jagged lump. “I didn’t want things to change—for you to treat me differently. So, I figured it would be better this way. Less complicated or something, I don’t know.”

You no longer recognize her as she looms in front of you like a hungry shadow. “Easier, you mean. It would be easier for you to hide this shit from me.”

“Trust me, Abby, it has not been easy, okay? Far from it. You do not know how excruciating it’s been.”

She’s standing close now, so close that the heat from her body becomes radiation, poisoning you against your better judgment. You hear her swallow heavy against the silence of the room. Another icy chill pours over you, prickles the surface of your skin. Your heart thunders between your rib cage and you wonder for a split second if she can hear it. If she can feel it through her angry, muddy boots.

“Please tell me,” she says, twisting and massaging her hands to self sooth. You mirror her actions. “I want to hear it from you.”

“What am I supposed to say? You already know everything. Cats out of the bag.”

“We gotta talk about this. I’m not leaving until we do.”

The shift in her tone catches your attention and you glance up at her. You gnaw your lower lip, trying like hell to stop fidgeting. She’s a brick wall, refusing to budge. Your instinct is to run, and she’s aware. Her stance widens beneath her broad shoulders.

“There’s nowhere to run, Y/N. You might as well cough it up. We can’t ignore this.”

You were alone for so long. It felt like decades, but it couldn’t have been over eight or nine months when you really think about it. Still, a lot can happen inside of a year. Abby found you without more than a dented can of vegetable soup and a rust-bitten pocketknife—rescued you from famine and the horrors of the crumbling earth. Carried you in her arms and watched you like a hawk in the backseat of the Humvee. At first, you weren’t sure if your feelings were reliable. Maybe they were an amalgamation of her saving your life and offering you the first mouthful of clean water you’d seen in days. But now, years later when you look into her eyes, you feel it all over.

“Yes, okay? It’s true. But I told her in confidence,” you confess, taking a step backward only to discover the unforgiving edge of your dining table. “God, I want to punch Mel in the face. Give her an actual piece of my mind.”

“Hot. Don’t tell her I said that,” Abby smirks, reaching around you for a chair. Your breath catches.

The metal legs scrape the floor as she straddles the seat. The sharp clatter snaps you back to reality.

“I won’t. Then again, maybe it’s my turn to gossip all over town.”

You’re tripping over yourself internally and Abby has the good grace to handle your emotions with care. Her forearms ripple as she folds them over the chair back, resting her chin atop long fatigued muscles. A burn creeps across the bridge of your nose and into your cheeks as she catches you staring.

She giggles, bashful, and it takes everything in you not to do the same.

“Stop,” you lament, your hands flying up to shield your face. “This is the worst. I’m the worst.”

“You are not,” Abby says as she tucks a tuft of blonde hair behind her ear, shaken loose from her braid. She looks up at you through her lashes and a wash of pink spills across her sun kissed cheeks. “I think you’re beautiful.”

A deafening knock at the door startles you both, but only Abby has the wherewithal to groan audibly at the interruption. You’re frozen in place as she gets up to answer, reluctance written all over her posture. You use the opportunity to sneak off to the bathroom to splash cold water on your skin to temper the flames. In all the daydreams your mind painted, being outed by the stadium doctor followed closely by Abby storming into your apartment to corner you like a drill sergeant, hadn’t quite made it to the top of the pile. Word travels fast, even in the apocalypse. Therefore, you spend most nights curled up with a book you’ve read far too many times to count, hidden away in any uninhabited nook you can find. Friendships are tough to navigate. Books earn our trust. Most times, anyway. Besides, in this world, love and attachment are a gamble most cannot afford.

“I have to go,” Abby says, poking her head through the door jamb. You watch her balk through the tarnished mirror. “I’m sorry.”

“Thought you said you weren’t leaving until we talk this through,” you say.

Her body turns rigid, worried. She’s not one to break a promise and take it lightly. A soft shrug of your shoulder seems to placate her for the time being. Duty calls and Abby is a loyal soldier. You want to relax her fears.

You stick out a mischievous tongue and her brows shoot up at the audacity.

“Careful,” she warns, and you swear you see her pupils blow wide as her gaze drags from your offensive tongue to your nervous, wiggling toes. “Don’t leave. I’ll be back.”

———-

It is possible to establish tranquility within the compound. There is a dusty balcony overlooking the stadium gardens. It’s been a minute since you last took refuge here, and you realize the seasons have changed. Leafy greens and bright, glossy vegetables pepper the garden beds below, not quite ready to pick, but you can almost taste them. You wonder if they’ve found any berry seeds during recent patrols. Wouldn’t it be nice to take a break from fighting infected—scavenge for seeds and plants instead? Rummage through abandoned garden sheds and decrepit houses with moss bitten solariums. Sink your fingers into moist soil, sow something hopeful. Present it to Abby in the palm of your hand. Feed it to her and feel the crunch of a ripe radish between her teeth. Taste the sweet spice of her tongue as she leans in to thank you.

“Fuck!” you yelp, as two powerful hands clasp your shoulders from behind.

Abby drops beside you with a smirk as Manny folds over in laughter in the distance, taking the stairs two at a time in the opposite direction. Now that he’s delivered Abby to you, he can piss right off as far as you’re concerned.

“When will you two assholes quit doing that?”

“Depends,” Abby says with a chuckle. “When are you going to stop daydreaming and stay alert like we’ve told you six hundred times?”

“Never, ever relax. Got it.”

Abby nudges you with her shoulder, taking a candy bar out of her pocket. It’s wrapped in wax paper from the chow hall, a rare, handmade delicacy. “Your favourite.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” you pout, breaking off a piece for her. She tries to wave it off, but you insist, and her smile is worth the extra bite.

She lets it melt between her fingers, seeming to forget how to eat.

“Yes, you did,” she murmurs, almost to herself.

You presume she isn’t referring to the treat shared between you, and it makes your stomach twist. The flutters in your belly flare up into your cheeks once again.  

“I told you to stay put,” Abby says.

“You’re not the boss of me.”

She snorts at that, grimacing at the sticky mess in her hands before popping the candy into her mouth.

You curse your filthy brain as it dives headfirst into the gutter, watching Abby languidly suck the coating off her fingers. You force yourself to fixate on the gardens before you give yourself away. The two of you sit in companionable stillness for a while, admiring the community you’ve all worked so tirelessly to maintain.

A gaggle of children toss a ball back and forth in the field beyond the gardens, dogs barking in their kennels at the exhilarated shouts. Soldiers you recognize and some you don’t, traversing the stadium in their civilian clothes, roaring laughter between them. None of it would feel like home without the girl sitting next to you.

Abby clears her throat. “I guess there’s some stuff we should talk about.”

“I guess.”

The sun has gradually moved, drenching your balcony in shade. You place your chilly hands between your thighs and squeeze, eager to escape the incessant thrumming driven by your nerves.

“What do you want from me?” she asks.

“Sheesh, Abby.”

“I’m serious Y/N. I need to know.”

“What does that even mean?”

“What do you want?” Abby repeats, spreading her legs and leaning into the conversation. She’s angled toward you, but her boots steal her gaze. “You’re into me.”

“I am.”

“You know I haven’t been with—you know I’ve only—”

“I know,” you quickly interject. “I expect nothing from you, Abby. This wasn’t even supposed to come out. If it’s a one-sided thing and you’re freaked out by it, it’s totally okay. I just hope we can get back to being friends.”

You glimpse her fiddling with the candy wrapper, crumpling it and then gradually unfolding it, only to repeat the process. The wider she stretches her legs, the more intensely you notice the proximity of her thighs to yours. You try not to read into it until you feel her knee bump yours with intention.

Her leg sways and bounces back again, and she raises a flirtatious brow. She’s teasing you. You’re forced to bite your lip to suppress a burgeoning grin.

She hums deep in thought, tiny noises at the back of her throat causing your insides to melt.

“I’ve thought about it,” Abby confesses, her voice cracking. She crushes your shoe impishly with the edge of her boot. “You and me.”

“Like the innocent relationship parts or the—other stuff?”

“Both.”

That familiar thrumming drops heavily through your belly, this time between your thighs, and you experience a stab of shame alongside it. A lifetime of navigating your sexuality combined with a tangible fear for Abby. It hasn’t been an easy road for you. She deserves a safe experience.

“How does it make you feel?” you ask.

“Excited,” she says. She looks at you now, without pause. Licks her lips and rakes her top teeth over the bottom one. Her cheeks are rosy and freckled and you ache for her.

“Yeah?” you choke out.

“Nervous, too. You’ve got me losing focus during missions. I’m finding it harder to keep you off my mind—tougher to be away from you when they need me. I can’t stand it sometimes, having this fantasy only in my head. Not knowing where we stand or how to approach the situation.”

“You sound like such a soldier,” you say.

“I am.”

Abby looks out at the stadium, quiet and pensive. Some would even say brooding if they hadn’t heard the words pouring from her mouth. She sniffs and readjusts. Shifts her body closer to yours. Her breathing has changed. Heavier. Rapid. Or is it yours?

“Your hands are tiny,” Abby titters and she’s reaching for them.

This shy, captivating human being is probably terrified out of her gorgeous blonde head, but she wants to touch you and your brain and body catch fire in a flash. You soak up the thrill of her fingers intertwining with yours, her sweaty palms offering warmth to your cold ones. You trace the veins in her wrist with the pad of your thumb. She smells like the forest.

“They’re pretty though,” Abby continues, still in a trance over the embrace. She splays your fingers out and measures them against hers.

“Yeah, yeah. Your hands are bigger than mine. Get over yourself.”

“Better to protect you with, my dear,” Abby says, and it’s a promise.

She pulls your hand to her lips and places a trail of soft kisses across your knuckles.

“Feels good,” you sigh. “I could get used to this.”

You can’t help but drift away at her gentle affection and at the back of your eyelids the memory plays.

You and Abby Anderson huddled in the library, reading old fairy tales together. Your very first conversation with her that didn’t revolve around ammunition, route planning, or rations. You engaged in a rather fierce debate with her over the moral of the stories you read. Revelled in her reaction to being deemed the big, bad wolf.

“I want to be more than a friend to you,” she says, her kisses transforming into seductive nibbles at the delicate skin of your wrist. “Tell me how to make that happen.”

“Are you sure?”

Abby lifts you onto her lap with ease. A strong hand rests at the small of your back while the other slides into your hair. She pulls you close, her warm breath tickling your neck as she murmurs softly against your ear. “Yes. Show me how to make you mine.”

✰ minors dni ✰

☞ fics ☜

figure eight ( 1.6k words ) ⋆ angst, fluff

soft to touch two ( 2.4k / 3.3k words ) ⋆ fluff, smut

purple haze ( 2.1k words ) ⋆ drug use, fluff

( masterlist being made soon )

☞ headcannons ☜

ellie/ reader & mental health issues

ellie's ideal girl

ellie & the five love languages

♡ DISTRACTION — ELLIE WILLIAMS

↳ characters : ellie williams x gn!reader

↳ notes : i am in love with her your honour

↳ song rec : cherries jubiles by yukika

you’ve never really been musically inclined, the interest has always been there whether it’s been learning the piano, violin and even as far as playing the recorder that one time in the third grade (even though you nearly failed your test for your music grade). but you especially favoured the guitar.

whilst on the other hand, it’s entirely different for your girlfriend, ellie. regardless of her learning an instrument later and having less interactions with them than you have had, she is extremely talented.

anytime she picks up her acoustic guitar, strumming a tune, you’re enraptured immediately. she finds it cute, how wide your eyes get, the corners of your mouth turning up in a small smile and how you lightly tap your feet with the tune, even if it’s a little off key.

she knew of your interest in the instrument, which is how you’ve gotten to this moment right now. you were sitting in ellie’s room on her bed pushed up against the wall and under the window. she had posters littering the walls as well as pictures of her with joel, jesse and dina.

the orange of the sunset dusted the room through her window, setting the ambiance and complimenting the smell of ellie, a subtle vanilla musk with hints of sandalwood and pine.

“okay so,” she started and then lightly sighed. “babe, you’ve got to pay attention if you want me to teach you how to play.”

“sorry..” you mumbled out, still being slightly distracted by the way the her eyes looked in the sun and the freckles that were littered amongst her face. “i keep getting distracted.”

ellie was well aware that you were looking at her, it was easy to tell by the far away look in your eyes. but she wasn’t about to feign ignorance, you had asked her to teach you how to play the guitar and she intends to do exactly that.

“y/n, you asked for a guitar lesson — not to stare at me, but i’m not complaining though.” she joked as she lightly bumped your side.

you shook your head and laughed lightly before turning to face her again, the guitar sitting in your lap.

“okay! so… how do i hold it again?” you smile.

ellie jokingly rolls her eyes with a smile then grabs your right hand, maneuvering it to be against the body of the guitar. then she moves your left hand to grab the underside of it’s neck.

“like this. at least this is how joel showed me how to.”

you nod and then look down at the instrument, your mouth forming a little ‘o’ then a small smile. you strum lightly, then look up excitedly at ellie.

“i’m a natural, huh? that didn’t sound bad at all!” you chirped happily.

ellie chuckles and then gives a quick peck to your temple. “oh yeah, you’ll be like jimmi hendrix in no time.”

smiling lightly at her joke and the affection, you crane your neck forwards swiftly to press a soft kiss on her lips. she reciprocates, her hands making their way under your jaw to press you further into her, not wanting the kiss to end.

eventually the two of you separate, resting your foreheads against one another and giggling to each other.

“you’re such a bad distraction.” you joke.

“i guess i am.” she laughs, pecking your lips once more.

“but you’re my favourite distraction.” you reply, feeling heat rise to your face.

ellie flushes red, the colour creeping it’s way onto her cheeks and the tips of her ears. “you’re so cringey sometimes…” she mutters shyly.

you let out a light chuckle.

“you love it though? right?” you ask.

“yeah,” she starts. “yeah, i do love it.”

yes we absolutely should you're so cute