Ellabs is not a big fandom but we've come a long way and now there's more than 100 Ellabs works in AO3 🎉
It's reason enough to celebrate
Here are some works for you to read in case you are new and didn't find them or to re-read because they are so good
Canon compliant and potential post tlou2
The good fight and it's second part the way things are by AudacityOfHuge
Afterlife by maharetr
two hands digging in each other’s wounds by michirukaioh
Canon divergence
i can't escape, or so it seems (i'd run away, shes in my dreams) by Isolatedwriting
Reincarnation where Abby and Ellie were lovers in a past life
Mutual by GreenGables89
The final fight doesn’t happen and Ellie leaves with Lev and Abby
Smut
it's gettin so hot between us (you're making me panic) by Isolatedwriting
sex pollen AU, in general if you are looking for ellabs smut Isolatedwriting works are very recommendable in fact the tlou pound town series is exactly for that
cold shower, hot skin (you're still here) by divinegrey
AU
Wrong number: Ring Me Up by Sketchylear
Vampires: Messy by oops-all-berries (Slut_for_Roses_and_Bees)
Modern:
A Commanding Presence in This Moment by if_he_had_to_guess
My God Damn Christmas Present by heydhee
Go read these, make your own list if you want to add too. Have a great day
Summary: Amidst a brutal thunderstorm, Abby walks into the boat cabin to find Ellie waiting for her, instead of Owen. They fight and then fuck.
A piece dedicated to @ellabs-weekend and art by the brilliant @alex-lest-writes, who also provided the idea for this oneshot!
Warnings: This is basically just p0rn, so 18+ !!
Ellie’s sitting cross-legged on the floor of the boat’s cabin, eyes unfocused, when there’s a sudden jostling disruption to the boat rocking along the waves – seemingly from something (or someone) heavy leaping aboard.
With a blinding rush of adrenaline, she scrambles to her feet and flattens herself against the wall close to the cabin’s doors. The children’s artwork pinned to the wall crinkles against her back until she stills, and then she lets herself turn to ice – quiet, frozen in place.
The lantern placed on the floor close to the back of the cabin is dim, barely managing to light a three-foot radius around it, and everything else outside of that ring is hard to distinguish among the shifting, swaying shadows. Ellie knows this because she’s been rehearsing, been practicing hiding in a way that when somebody comes down the stairs, she’ll be well hidden in the dark until it’s too late.
It sounds like the person is in a hurry, their boots audible against the wood deck, and Ellie forces herself to breathe evenly as her pulse hammers in her ears.
“Owen?”
The single word hangs in the air like a death sentence, just loud enough that she can hear it over the waves and the rain.
It’s her.
A hot shiver runs up Ellie’s back and her fingers twitch around the textured grip of her pistol as she holds it down against her thigh.
She’s been on the boat for hours now, impatiently waiting after hiding Abby’s (still alive) drunk, puppy-like boyfriend deep within the aquarium. It hadn’t even been difficult to convince him to go quietly, either. He had seemingly been in some crisis of his own, too mentally occupied and inebriated to put up much of a fight against her.
Ellie’s palms are slick with sweat, and she’s preparing herself to not cringe or jerk away if Abby yanks the cabin doors open. But instead, they are pulled open cautiously like Abby’s realizing that perhaps it was stupid of her to call out – which it was – and is now trying to be quiet in case there’s somebody else waiting for her – which there is.
Abby’s so close, just a few steps away outside in the pouring rain, and Ellie can hear her breathing fast and hard like she was running here, or maybe like she’s scared.
A heat prickles in Ellie’s gut at the thought.
The lantern’s warm lighting should feel like an invitation from the damp darkness, or at least that’s why Ellie had left it on, but Abby’s hesitating on the deck – like she knows something is up but doesn’t know exactly what yet.
Eventually, she clomps down the stairs and Ellie holds her breath as she takes in the sight of the memorably tall woman. If she hadn’t been sure that it was Abby before, the long braid hanging down the middle of her wide back would have been enough of a clue.
Her bare arms are scarred and freckled, and fucking huge, and her skin is glistening from the rain. An artillery of weapons is hanging off her green backpack, and she pulls it off and squats to place it on the floor.
Ellie’s heart is hammering hard in her ribcage, and she’s trying to keep her hands from shaking as she takes in a slow, steady inhale through her nose. She knows she can do this, and she will. She’s come all the way to Seattle to do this, and she’s not about to back down now.
Abby’s beginning to stand up just as Ellie starts to move, and her whole posture stiffens.
She begins to look back over her shoulder, her expression confused, but it’s too late and Ellie already has her pistol pressed into her dark blonde hair. Abby gasps at the contact, the noise lighting up the inside of Ellie, and her body goes rigid.
“Don’t fucking move,” Ellie growls, reaching up to cock the weapon.
She can see goosebumps prickling up the length of Abby’s arms at the menacing click, and they stand there in silence for a few beats, just the sound of their fast breathing filling the cabin. They’re both facing the unmade bed at the back of the boat, the sheets all rumpled and shadowy where the light won’t reach.
Owen had told Ellie that he’d slept on the boat overnight – and therefore didn’t know where Abby was – and she’d taken the state of the blankets as evidence that he wasn’t lying.
His backpack is still on the floor, and the half-empty bottle of whiskey is still perched on the fold-out table. All little clues that he was here, and Ellie can feel Abby panicking as she takes in the scene in front of her.
“Where is he?” she whispers.
“Your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
Ellie’s surprised at the defensiveness laced in Abby’s tone, and she scoffs before she can stop herself. Using the end of her gun, she flicks Abby’s braid forward over her shoulder, and then drags the cold metal along the back of her neck.
“Well, pardon me. My mistake.”
Ellie doesn’t know if it’s from the gun sliding along her bare skin, or from leaning close to her ear to mock her, but Abby shivers, and she definitely notices it. From this close, she also notices how Abby smells intensely like pine and warm skin, despite being soaked to the bone. She’s so wet that her dark tank top is clinging to her body, the bulging muscles running along her back and sides emphasized and prominent.
It’s almost like Ellie can hear the thought that travels through Abby’s head as she notices her right hand twitch toward the pocket of her cargo pants, and Ellie pushes the end of the gun hard into the back of her skull.
“Don’t even fucking think about it,” she hisses.
Abby stills, and Ellie reaches around from behind her to slip her hand into her pocket. She almost gasps at how hot Abby’s skin is through the material of her pants, and she resists the urge to yank her hand back like she’s just touched a hot stove.
She’s just beginning to wrap her fingers around what feels like the head of a hammer when Abby suddenly shoves backwards into her with her massive shoulder, twisting around before Ellie can even think about pulling the trigger.
She stumbles back a step, trying to get her gun pointed back at Abby, but the woman is already grabbing her by the wrist and shoving her up against the wall with her own body.
The impact of her back slamming against the wood panelling knocks the wind out of Ellie, and she gasps in a breath as the two of them struggle with one another, grunting and hissing with the effort. They’re fighting to get control of the gun, but Abby has Ellie’s hand pinned above her head by her wrist, and the angle is too difficult to do anything but dangle the weapon awkwardly while Abby crushes her.
The length of her body is so firmly against Ellie’s that she can’t even get her legs up to kick out.
“What are you doing here?” Abby growls, teeth bared like an animal.
“I’m here for you.”
Abby’s eyes narrow, and she digs her fingers into Ellie’s wrist hard enough to make her cry out in pain. Ellie’s fingers curl reflexively, and the gun finally falls to the ground, the noise of it bouncing off the floor rattling through her chest.
“You just can’t get enough, can you?”
“Fuck. You.”
Ellie’s straining to get the words out because Abby has her other hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing painfully into the artery that makes her feel light-headed.
Outside, it sounds like torrential downpour and the noise of it is competing with the ringing in Ellie’s ears as she writhes against Abby’s body.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” she hisses, inches from Ellie’s face.
Ellie’s considering spitting at her when, suddenly, white light explodes within the cabin, so intensely bright that Ellie can’t even see the features of Abby’s face. It completely disorients both of them, and in the same split second, a deafening bang rattles through the boat. The noise is so loud that Ellie can feel it vibrate through her ribs, and it’s so startling that Abby lets go of her to clap her hands instinctively over her ears.
The cabin goes dark again, save for the dim lantern, and Ellie falls forward off the wall, gasping and clambering for her gun. Somehow, she gets it in her grip right as Abby’s dropping to her knees to grab for her, but she rolls flat on her back and points it up at her, finger on the trigger.
“Back up!”
Panting, Abby raises her hands up and in front of her, palms facing out before walking herself back on her knees, eyebrows pulled together. She’s infuriated, cheeks flushed and eyes deadly.
The pulsing thought of ‘she looks good like this’ makes its way to the front of Ellie’s brain as she sits forward, keeping her pistol aimed right between Abby’s dark eyes.
Conveniently, she’s landed close to her own backpack hidden under the table, and she reaches blindly into it and feels the coarse, frayed ends of the rope she brought along with her. Slowly, she gets to her feet, fearing that if she makes any sudden moves, Abby might try to fight her again. Her left wrist is still throbbing from where Abby squeezed it so tightly.
“Put your hands behind your back,” Ellie barks.
Abby glares back at her.
“What, you’re a fucking cop now?”
Ellie almost laughs at how bold this woman is as she walks around to stand behind her again, the rope gathered in her fist. Even with a gun pointed in her face, Abby still has the nerve to heckle her.
“Give me your hands!”
Abby bends forward at the hips, pulls her arms backward and presents her wrists to Ellie. The gesture makes her face feel hot and she’s glad Abby can’t see her as she drops to her knees behind her.
“Don’t fucking try anything,” she warns her.
Abby snorts, and Ellie slides the gun into the back of her own jeans to wrap the rope around her wrists. Abby’s hands are so much bigger than Ellie’s, nearly two times the width of hers, and when her cold fingers brush against her warm skin, the soft insides of her wrists, she has to make an effort not to linger there, not to touch her too softly.
“I don’t get why you don’t just kill me,” Abby says when Ellie gets to her feet again.
“Because I need to talk to you first.”
Ellie plunks down a few feet in front of Abby and pulls her gun from her jeans to place it on the floor beside her. She’s sitting cross-legged again while Abby remains sitting on her knees, looking incredibly annoyed with her wrists tied behind her.
“I know why you killed Joel.”
A spasm of pain flashes across Abby’s face before she drops her gaze to the floor, and something sinks within Ellie as she takes in how vulnerable she suddenly looks. The dim lighting dances across her downturned face, and the shadows under her eyes shift as the boat rocks over the rougher waters. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and then Abby’s eyes snap up to meet hers.
“You’re still fucked up for – for doing what you did to him.”
“Can we just save the speech? I don’t know what it is that you want from me.”
“I want you to know that you took away everything from me!”
Ellie’s voice comes out higher than she planned, and it breaks painfully.
Abby flinches, but then her eyes flash with anger and she leans closer to her, fighting her restraints as her shoulders thrash.
“Don’t you get that he took everything from me, too? From humanity as a whole, even!”
Ellie refuses to back away from her and stays sitting even though Abby’s now only a few feet away, her eyes dark and dangerous.
“Joel was not some saint, Ellie. He stole any chance that we had at a cure.”
Hearing her name come from Abby’s mouth only makes her angrier, hotter, and she twists to get on her knees, to crawl closer to the woman she’s been thinking about everyday for a month.
“And I hate that he did that. I fucking told him as much, and then you killed him the next day!”
Ellie’s yelling – and crying, suddenly – and Abby’s just sitting on her knees, taking her in, barely flinching when Ellie’s hands flash to grip at the front of her shirt. Their faces are inches away, and Abby’s eyes are boring into hers.
“Fuck you, Abby,” she pants.
She’s hot to the touch through her shirt, and Ellie lets her hands linger there in balled-up fists, the wet fabric bunched up in her grasp. Like this, with Abby sitting on her knees and Ellie raised up on the height of hers, the tied woman has to tilt her head back to hold eye contact with Ellie, but she’s doing it and the heat that’s been twisting in the pit of Ellie’s stomach is bordering on being unbearable.
Under her hands, she can feel Abby’s chest rising and falling quickly.
“What are you going to do about it?”
The silkiness of Abby’s voice, and the way she is looking up at Ellie with her pouty lips parted, it’s all too much and Ellie grabs for the base of her long braid. She knots her fingers close to her scalp and pulls, making a breathy gasp burst out from Abby as she yanks her head backward.
Immediately, her face goes a flushed pink under Ellie’s rough touch, and she squirms to stay balanced on her knees as Ellie leans down closer to her.
“What do you want me to do about it?”
Ellie whispers it to the woman who effectively ruined her life, who she now aches to ruin, herself. Abby’s wide blue eyes flicker down to Ellie’s lips, and that’s what decides it.
Still holding her head back with her one hand, Ellie brings her other hand up to grip at Abby’s jaw and she curls her fingers around the curve of the bone. Her heart is racing, thrumming in her ears when she drags her nose teasingly across Abby’s flushed cheek all the way over to her ear.
“Hmm?”
Abby shivers again and leans into Ellie’s warm lips, shifting on her knees.
“Tell me what you want, Abby.”
“I want you to untie me,” she whimpers back.
The way she says it almost knocks Ellie off balance, her voice like taking a hit to the back of the head, and she grins against Abby’s sensitive cartilage even though a little prickle of fear blooms in her chest at the thought of those massive hands being free. She’s sure her neck is going to be bruised from one of them being wrapped around it just moments ago.
“Are you going to be good?”
Abby makes a choked moaning sound when Ellie scrapes her teeth lightly across her ear, and she squeezes at her jaw a little harder. She’s rocking forward on her knees, straining to get closer, and Ellie comes closer so that Abby can lean against the front of her body. With her hand cradling the back of her head, she holds Abby against her while she experimentally licks along the curve of her ear.
“I’ll treat you good if you behave yourself.”
Abby still isn’t forming any words and is just breathing loudly and whimpering when Ellie drops from her ear to her neck. She can taste the salt of her sweat and she fucking loves it, and she licks greedily at her exposed throat.
“Do you want me to treat you good?”
“Ellie.”
The way she moans her name settles it, and Ellie gets to her feet quickly, dropping Abby from her hold so suddenly that Abby nearly falls forward. Grabbing her knife from her back pocket, Ellie places it on the floor beside her as she kneels behind Abby, feeling about as wet as Abby’s clothes under her curious hands.
Slowly, she bends to breathe against the back of her neck, pushing her braid out of the way again to softly kiss at the space between the neckline of her tank top and where her hair starts. Abby’s leaning back against her, and Ellie’s hand slips around to the front of her hip, fingers spread greedily to touch as much of her as possible at once.
“Or do you want to be punished?”
Abby groans, and Ellie smirks.
“I want you, please, Ellie,” she whispers.
With some finality to it, Ellie grabs her knife and carefully works it between Abby’s tied wrists, the risk of Abby strangling her with one hand again long forgotten.
The loud sigh that comes from Abby when her wrists come free is just audible through the rain beating down on the boat’s deck and windows, and she whimpers when Ellie rubs her fingers gently along the angry red line encircling them.
“Sorry,” Ellie breathes before she can catch herself.
What the fuck has gotten into her? Gotten into the two of them?
Abby hums in response, and she slumps forward on her forearms, breathing hard. Ellie gives her a few second to feel the relief of not having her broad shoulders pinched back together, but then her hands are on Abby’s waist and she’s urging her to flip onto her back.
Abby knows what she wants immediately, and she rolls onto her back, her head tiredly dropped straight onto the wood floor, and Ellie climbs on top of her. Those huge hands grip at her hips as Ellie straddles her waist, bends forward to kiss at her neck again, and bites into the salt that lingers there. She smells so intensely like humidity and rain and pine and mint, and Ellie’s head swims with it.
She places her forearm on the floor just outside of Abby’s muscled shoulder and winds her fingers into the back of her wet hair. The overwhelming urge to kiss Abby’s pouty lips surges through the front of her brain, and when she pulls away just enough to look down at her, she lets her eyes linger on her mouth.
How is it even possible to go from wanting to kill Abby with her bare hands just moments ago, to now, wanting to slip her tongue into Abby’s mouth?
Abby’s insistent hands grabbing at her ass through her jeans makes the question dissolve, and she sighs into the small space between their faces, watches how Abby’s pupils somehow blow even wider.
Keeping her eyes on hers, Ellie slips her free hand between them, slides it down the smooth expanse of Abby’s clothed stomach and then stops at the button of her cargo pants. Before she can say anything, Abby’s nodding up at her wordlessly, pushing her hips up needily while her hands, hot and rough, slip up the back of Ellie’s shirt.
Leaning closer to her, Ellie brushes her nose against Abby’s and then works open her button and zipper, and feels how Abby squirms below her, spreading her legs open in an invitation. They both moan when Ellie slides her hand over top of her underwear, and she immediately feels how wet she is through them.
“Oh, fuck,” Ellie hisses.
It feels like her brain is on fire within her skull, like her skin is smouldering everywhere that she’s touching Abby – their torsos pressed together, the inside of her thighs on either side of Abby’s waist. The broad hands that come up to grip at her sides, the thick, long fingers spanning across her back.
Everything about Abby makes Ellie feel like she’s drunk, and she presses her nose down into her cheek, soaking in how Abby turns toward her, wanting to be closer to her. Their mouths brush again, and a zap of electricity seems to flow between the two of them right as Ellie’s slipping under her boy shorts to easily find her clit.
Abby’s sensitive and loud, crying out against her cheek and digging her fingers into Ellie’s thighs as she stays up on her knees, on either side of Abby’s waist. She’s turning her face into the arm Ellie has resting on the floor, balancing on, and the way Abby opens her mouth to run her tongue along the inside of her flexed bicep makes her groan.
Another lightning strike lights up the cabin right as Ellie’s sliding her fingers lower to push inside of Abby, and she gasps, all her features so spectacularly illuminated below her.
The fullness of her lips, parted to moan, and how her long, blonde eyelashes cast shadows on the height of her cheeks. The way that her eyebrows pull together when Ellie rocks her fingers upward, and how her eyes fly open when she starts to thrust into her hard – Ellie is consumed by it all as the boat falls back into the dim, warm lighting of only the lantern.
“Oh, my fucking god!” Abby hisses.
Refusing to think about it, Ellie bends to kiss her, loving how Abby’s hardly able to kiss her back because of how busy she is moaning and panting and cursing. Her lips are so soft and wet, and she opens her mouth to let Ellie inside, to taste her tongue and breathe each other in as Ellie slips a second finger into Abby’s wet cunt.
The boat is rocking and so is Ellie, thrusting her own hips in time with her hand as she moans into Abby’s cheek, the tip of her nose pressing into her temple. And Abby’s letting her knees fall apart, pushing her hips up in time to meet Ellie’s long fingers halfway.
She’s desperate, and Ellie knows it.
“You’re fucking close, aren’t you?”
She breathes the question close to Abby’s ear, a smirk playing on her lips. Abby nods desperately, turning her face to catch Ellie’s lips again, and she kisses her with an open mouth. When Ellie pulls away, she sees the string of shared spit break off between them.
“You don’t last long, huh?”
Before she can answer, Abby’s crying out at the third finger that Ellie pushes into her. The heel of Ellie’s hand is soaked as she rubs it over Abby’s clit, thrusting into her deeply, in the way that makes her gasp and squeeze around her fingers.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Ellie imagines it was supposed to sound like a bark, but it’s breathy and high and the look in her eyes doesn’t align with the words. She smirks down at Abby, moans against her parted lips as she can feel Abby start to shake underneath her.
“Don’t fucking stop, oh my god, please don’t stop,” she cries.
Ellie wants to promise her that she won’t, but she can’t find the words as she watches Abby’s face so closely, so intimately, trying to memorize what she looks like as she’s balancing on the edge of an orgasm. Instead, she just keeps fucking her, keeps breathing in her moans and cries, keeps her hand taut in the back of her braid. She hardly feels the forearm she’s balancing on burning with fatigue.
“You better fucking come, Abby.”
And with a howling scream, Abby does, nearly throwing Ellie off her when she bucks her hips so hard that it knocks her forward, and Ellie has to fight to stay inside of her, to feel her fluttering and clenching hard around her fingers.
And as Abby’s coming down from it, Ellie moves to kiss her, hard enough to bruise.
She kisses Abby like she hates her.
She kisses her like she wishes things were different.
She kisses her like, if this were another world, she could love her.
