ʚɞSame girlʚɞ— Ellabs x reader
ʚɞwarnings: weed smoking, pussy eating, reader is lowkey a sex addict, "cheating", strap use, pet names, boobie sucking, fingering, subtop!ellie, whiny!ellie, spit, supplier!reader, dealer!ellie, top!abby, readers kinda bitchy but you're hot so it doesn't matter, love rivalry, powerbottom!reader, reader has nipple piercings, college au, gymrat!abby, medstudent!abby, jealous!ellabs, possessive sex, public sex, guest appearance from vi, toxic lesbians, masc!ellabs, fem!reader, vocal!abby, slight stalking, some angst.
ᯓ★pluto's pieceˎˊ˗ i knew this one would win...yall are a bunch of sluts(me too lol) writing part two as we speak, there's also like songs hidden throughout the story if you wanna listen to those! comments, likes, reblogs, are all appreciated ily! not proofread btw :P
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Dina w/ the good dih>:)—Isn't this that girl you're dating?
Dina w/ the good dih >:)— *photo attachment*
The text message traveled through the ether, zooming through the networks of cell service all the way until it pings against the side of the Ellie's thigh. She's on the clock, head leaning against the cool metal of your doorframe, waiting for you, her supplier, to open up.
You hear the doorbell, and then the knock, and then the second ring-knock combo that pushes for you to move faster, stuffing unsightly items in random places so your apartment looks presentable. You pull the door open, standing in the doorway as if you were a goddess and she was a devotee that came to worship you.
You're controlled in every effortless movement, you've practiced this a million times, but Ellie can't tell. To her the way your hips sway is in fact effortless, the way your neck cocks to the side while staring at her with bedroom eyes is how you look normally—you're just that perfect.
You stand before her, holding the door open with one hand as she drinks you in, the black tank top and matching short shorts that show the underside of your ass cheeks, the deep green robe decorated with lace trimmings on the sleeves and embroidered flowers (that she adores on you) hanging loosely off your shoulders.
Your hair is messy, left to it's own devices to do whatever the fuck it wanted. And your scent, earthy and green, yet somehow contrasted heavily by the smokey incense that wafts from your apartment.
Green eyes stares at you with that look of admiration and pure childish glee, like you were her favorite toy that she had gotten gifted for christmas.
"Hey Ellie Wellie." You give her the most seductive smile you can muster, the smile showing a bit of your teeth—it makes her yearn to lick them. Is that weird? Maybe, but Ellie cannot stop the thoughts of you that race through her head. You're her favorite supplier, giving her the products that get the highest reviews and the ones that generate the best sales. You were good for Ellie's business yet so bad for her health.
"Hey! Um—I-I'm running low, thought I would stop by." She leans forward as if trying to —awkwardly—force her way into your home. Your middle finger pushes against the middle of her forehead almost cartoonishly keeping the slightly taller woman in her place, "You're not being honest~" You chuckle, as Ellie pouts looking up at you through her lashes.
"No honesty, no entrance." You shrug as she recovers, head tilting to the side while she thinks of something to say that won't embarrass her. Sometimes Ellie can be mean, she gets into her own head and psyches herself out, she does it especially when you're around.
"You know I want to see you, but I realllyy need to reup. I have rounds to make today." Ellie stands tall, straightening her back as her gaze darts to your apartment, she has no idea what she's looking for, yet she still searches.
Ellie has liked you since she first met you, having heard about your business from her old plug before he moved halfway across the country. She remembers the first time you both locked eyes, when you were living out of your van and loved it that way. The way your bracelets jiggled with each flick of your wrist still sounds in her pierced ears, the mix of metals and beads knocking against each other in harmony. If she focuses really hard she can still smell the earthy and musky scent of your old van, body odor mixing with the scent of your ever moving product.
Ellie misses it, even if she refuses to acknowledge the ache in her heart for the old you, the one that was her own little secret that she kept hidden from the world. Now, it seems that she's your hidden gem. You both have never had the conversation on if you would be exclusive or not—in truth she's too afraid of your answer.
A large part of Ellie knows that she's not emotionally stable enough to handle knowing if you have multiple partners, and that same part of her doubts that she would stop the arrangement you both have if she did find out.
And it's not like there aren't rumors, silent whispers about someone else holding your attention. You hide your phone from her when you both hangout sometimes, shielding your messages from her prying olive colored eyes. She always tries her best to ignore it because whoever it is isn't important enough for you to leave her, and that is all that matters.
"Mhm." You look at her as if you don't believe a word she's saying—which you don't, "I wish you would just say you miss fucking me instead of bringing business into it." Your puffy bottom lip juts out as you feign heartbreak, still you push the door open wider for her. "You're the one that decided to mix business with pleasure." She reminds you as she saunters in, her head still swiveling.
The apartment looks the same as she left it, bong on the coffee table in the small living room, some crappy show that you can barely see because of the alarming amounts of sunlight filling your apartment, and the plants (that she can never remember all the names of) sit swaying in the warmth of the summer breeze. Nothing is out of place enough to suggest a live in girlfriend.
Good.
"How do you not have pests?" She muses as she plops down onto the kind of uncomfortable couch, her legs spreading open as her arms hang loosely behind her on the back of the furniture. "Well, I have you." You watch over her move with such hunger, licking through every freckle, every dimple, every imperfection she wished you wouldn't stare at.
You try your hardest to shake off the depraved thoughts of her that come to your mind as you watch her fingers flex against the upholstery, or the way she subtly bounces her leg in eagerness at being in your space again.
Between Abby and Ellie, you had to admit that Ellie had to be the best at eating you out. She always devoured your cunt as if she were dying of dehydration and that alone made talking about anything else feel extremely trivial.
"Ha ha, you're not funny." Ellie makes room for you on the couch, closing her legs slightly. You pull a large ziploc bag of weed out from the underside of the coffee table before plopping down next to her. "You smell like sweat." An observation that shouldn't embarrass her, but you pointing it out with a playful crinkle of your nose makes her arms fall to her side as she adjusts herself to be smaller.
Another difference between the two, Ellie isn't the most secure.
"So-sorry, I had practice right before I came." Her cheeks are almost crimson as she averts her gaze to the table, staring straight at the bag. "W-hats this?" A freckled and painted finger shooting out to point at plastic filled to the near brim of weed. You scoot closer to her, resting your hand on her thigh as you lean in closer. "It's this new strain I got, it's called "wedding cake", wanna try it?"
You're so close to Ellie that she can feel the fan of your breath on her face, so close she can smell the bowl of lucky charms you had for lunch. "Yeah, I mean, if-if you're off-offering." With the way she reacts you would think this is her first time ever being around you, not like you both had been fucking around for almost six months now.
"You know I can't just give it to you for free." Your head ducks into the crook of her neck, peppering her skin with warm kisses. A small moan leaves her lips as she tries to scooch away from you, not because she's uncomfortable—this is routine for the both of you—but because she's afraid that she will cum hands free in a few seconds if you don't stop.
"I-I-I, fuck—how-how much?" She pants in your ear as you crawl on top of her, your fingers plunging into the hem of her sweatpants and then the front of her boxers. You thank the gods everyday that Ellie buys the boxers meant for men, the ones that have that opening just so you can play with her clit while she's fully clothed. Fuck, it's such a turn on.
Your index finger rubs sloppy circles on her clit as it slowly hardens under your touch, her body arching into your hand just the way you like it. Another finger finds it's way to Ellie's clit, her body lurching forward as the pressure becomes too overwhelming. "Make me cum, Wellie, and it's all free."
She has the cutest pout on her face as she nods almost desperately, biting her lip as her cunt starts to contract around nothing. You speed up, eyes focused on the auburn headed girl in front of you, her head falling backwards. And just as she's about to cum, paint the inside of her boxers a milky white, you pull away a devilish smirk on your pretty lips.
Her head snaps back to position, her eyes wide and her pupils completely blown by lust. She watches with pure disbelief as you suck off your fingers and rub the saliva on your thigh.
"Joint or blunt, or maybe you would prefer the bong?" You push off her as you walk to the tv stand, grabbing the matcha green rolling tray that houses a grinder and a few papers, carefully you place the tray in her lap while opening the ziploc of "wedding cake".
Silently, Ellie starts the ritual of rolling the weed into a smokable joint. She does her best work, pearling the joint as she runs the lighter against the end, lighting and taking a hit of it before passing it to you.
"You're such a bitch." She mumbles as the smoke falls from her lips, a dejected look on her face. "What? Have you never worked for anything before?" You chuckle, taking the joint from her fingers as you place the tip to your lips. Ellie's gaze is so sharp as she follows your every move, the way your lips wrap around the same area she had just smoked from.
A puff, "They say this strain makes you horny." You twirl the joint in between your thumb and your index finger, Ellie's hazel-green eyes staring so intently at your actions, mouth hanging open slightly. Her core aches and her mouth waters. What she wouldn't give for just a taste of you.
"Is that why you stopped? Wanna see if your strain is worth the fucking money?" Her voice trembles with need even though she tries to sound angry, her bushy brows knitted together as she watches your lips suck more smoke into your lungs. "Wellie, baby, y'know I don't like when you're bratty." Your soft hands grip the sides of her face, pulling her in as you blow a cloud into her face.
"I'm sorry, I just—I need you." She whines, her words airy and light as she tries to gain control of an already crumbling situation. "Oh? How badly do you need me ?" You ask as your lips ghost hers, the joint burning in your other hand, "I wanna taste you," You plant another deep kiss to her lips, the feeling of her chapped ones against your own plush pair creating the perfect contrast. "I wanna make you feel good," A kiss, harder, more loving, "I wanna hear you make those pretty noises for me."
Ellie's hunger takes over her, cupping your face in her ringed hands as she pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. Her tongue darts out of it's cave, exploring your mouth like uncharted territory, her muscle licking your teeth just like she wanted.
You taste like her arousal and weed mixing on your tongue and becoming something that throws her off before she gets used to it, sucking on your tongue to get more of the flavor.
An arm wraps around her neck, snaking into her hair as you pant and pull her impossibly closer. Ellie grinds the material of her clothed cunt into your own, you're quickly soaking though your underwear with every thrust of her hips.
The kiss is messy, a dance of clashing teeth and spit covering your mouths as you try not to fall too deep into the other.
Her left hand drags your left boob out from the protective material of your tank top, gripping it and playing with it as you moan into her mouth. The heated makeout session is cut short as Ellie takes your nipple into her mouth, sucking on the skin as her tongue runs along the bar of your piercing.
Ellie kisses down your stomach, licking where she sees fit, her tongue darting into your belly button, it gets a reaction out of you—a giggle as your body jumps a bit. Your short shorts are the next to go, in one swift action they're off, discarded somewhere in your living room. "I love that you never wear panties, makes this whole thing much easier." She dives in, licking a ring around the entrance of your pussy as if trying to make her presence known.
"Oh yeah?" You moan, breathy and somehow exhausted. Ellie's not done with you though, she nods as she spreads your lips open, revealing your fleshy pearl.
A kiss to it first, her signature move, then she attacks, drawing your clit into her lips while she sucks on it harshly. The tip of her tongue glides against the underside of the hood, a move that drives you wild, your instincts telling you to run away from the feeling of her tongue invading your senses. It's hard though, her strong hands keeping you in place as you squirm beneath her.
She pins you down when you buck up into her tongue that has now taken to probing your entrance, darting in and out as her nose applies delicious pressure to your clit. Her hips thrust into the couch at the heady taste of your arousal.
You're so close, the way she pants between you thighs as if she's getting off simply by giving you head, the smell of your sex that fills the room, everything is making you want to explode.
There's a slight heat on your fingers, the one that's not holding Ellie in place as she continues to devour you whole, licking away your frustrations. Its no wonder everything else feels so contrived when a girl like Ellie exists, an eater who derives too much pleasure from breaking you beneath her.
You remember the burning joint in your hand and take a few puffs as Ellie's head raises, her emerald colored orbs stalking you. You puff as she uses two fingers to enter you, working their way into your heart.
You never believed in love before, but the feeling of her slender yet magical freckled fingers plunging into you, drawing themselves back before hungrily thrusting back inside you, you might have to reconsider.
You take another puff and she's in front of you, her face oh so close to your own. Your mouth is agape as she fingers you, her thumb pressing against your button, your face twisted with pleasure as she stares at you with a mirrored expression. Ellie's hand works harder, bullying their way deeper into your cunt until they touch the spongy part of your hole.
"I-'m gonna—oh Ellie, please, please let me cum baby." Your head thrown back as you let the joint fall from your fingers.
"Yeah, you want to cum pretty girl? Huh? You gonna cum for me?" Ellie stares at you with such awe, completely ready to catch the downfall of your release. "You look so good." She smiles as you inch closer and closer to your release.
You nod at her as you feel the hot warmth of your orgasm engulf you. Your body shivers as Ellie continues to fuck into you with her fingers, humming to herself as you make a quick mess of her hands.
She pulls her hand away from your cunt, admiring her handy work while you catch what's left of your breath. The room feels too small and you are way too high—both on her great finger work and the weed that you're trying to sell. At some point your body gets over it's feelings of overstimulation, and Ellie is giving you a look that says 'I'm ready if you are' and you are, your head swimming with the image of her fucking you dizzy with the lavender strap that hides in your dresser.
"Wellie, you wanna fuck me?" You ask, hand crawling along your body straight to your tits, a gently squeeze to them as you lick the thumb of your non dominant hand. "Hell yeah." She's up in seconds tugging off her sweatpants as she stumbles to your room, "Second drawer right?" She calls but as she enters—and finally pulls off the gray material hanging sloppily off her ankles—a call comes through on her work phone.
"Fuck!" Frustrated and now sexually so, she fishes around for it as she grumbles out curses for her clients. "Ugh, let them wait." You groan as you spread your legs seductively, you hold her gaze as you dip your fingers to your still semi-sensitive clit.
"I wish, pretty big order though." Still her eyes never leave your body as you continue to work yourself over. "You're really gonna leave me all high and dry, Williams?" A half chuckle leaves your lips as you stare at her in disbelief, but Ellie's already dressed and she has made a strict promise to herself to never let this—whatever it is—come between her and her business.
" 'm sorry pretty girl, don't worry, I'll swing by tomorrow!" Ellie plants a kiss to your temple before running out of the door, the heavy metal slamming behind her.
Your body still buzzes from your long forgotten orgasm, and yet, you need more. It wasn't as satisfying as it would have been if she would had filled your cunt with plastic, and that makes it hard for you to stop yourself from doing what you do next.
You— hii cutie ;)
You— miss you so much <3
You— wanna go out tn?
cutie abs <3— wanna go for drinks?
You text back "yes" almost immediately, your legs stretched outwards as you wiggle around in pure glee. A smart girl always has a back up plan, and this time you'll make certain that you're satisfied.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Abby sits at the bar, the loud club music blaring in her ears as she nurses a whiskey sour, it's not what she wanted—in truth she was craving one of those expensive in house made margaritas, but she chickened out once the bartender asked for her order. Abby's predictable, straight laced and set in her routines, her resolve is absolutely unbreakable—in short, she's as stubborn as a mule.
But that's what you like about her, her passion and dedication in contrast to the carefree way you live your life entice you. She's your complete opposite, yet you blend together magically.
The downside, because of course there's one, is how hard it is to get a hold of her. She's a busy girl, gym then studying, then whenever she gets a break she volunteers at her fathers clinic. She never has time for you, and that just makes you want her more.
There's too many people in this club tonight, honestly she doesn't know what she should have expected, it's a Friday and this is the most popular club in the small town you take residence in.
Still, she tries to ignore the pounding of the music and the sweaty bodies that dance behind her, she goes through her to-do list over and over again in her mind, she combs over the probably missing chemistry homework, the problem sets that she has to do in order in to study for her next three tests, there's also that laundry that sits in the corner of her dorm that she had been avoiding for the past three days.
The music switches and so do the lights, instead of their former reddish hue they've now switched to a deep blue as the music shifts to something more sensual. It's then that Abby notices the way the crowds energy changes as well, the air is heavier now, filled with something that she cant really place.
A once lively rowdy establishment has now died down into bodies blending against each other to the beat of the music, heads turn towards the doorway, others grab their dance partners to find a quieter spot. It causes her pause for just a mere moment, her body prickling with a familiar feeling as she tries to subtly look for what changed.
Her head snaps towards the door, her blue eyes now fixed on the door where you enter. You look impossible, no human should be allowed to capture the room the way you do. You glide through the crowd as it parts like a sea in the wave of your confidence, you command the crowd, everyone's heads turning if they weren't too self absorbed.
Abby takes in your outfit, the lacey material showing off every curve of your body—it's damn near see through but you look good in it, the black lace matching bra and panty set that covers your intimates from the view of the public. Your makeup is smokier than usual,your lips glossed and your hair is curled and wild.
You're dressed in black yet bathed in blue, completely gorgeous, absolutely stunning.
Abby nearly chokes, the whiskey sour going down harsh and heavy and getting stuck in her throat. A cough trickles from her lips as you sit next to her, the smell of your perfume washing over her. It's drunken and pheromone-like, musky and sexual, intoxicating and hidden by cherries. You're a boozey dream that sends shock waves to her core, enough for her to nearly forget herself.
Nearly.
"Abigail—I've missed you." You smile at her, your grin dripping with not so hidden intentions. She looks buffer, her biceps glowing in the LED lights. Her blonde hair—left alone for once and not stuck in a ponytail or a braid— takes to the lightening perfectly, each color changing her locks to match. "Missed you too, honey." She downs the rest of her drink, using two lazily raised fingers to call over the bartender ready to order herself something stronger.
You watch her cheeks flush in real time, the slow gradual reddening almost making you giggle, but you contain yourself.
All of this had a purpose, the outfit you picked, the perfume you bathed yourself in, your lipgloss shade, even the specific way you curled your hair—it all leads up to the moment you finally break Abby.
She's good at hiding her emotions, leaving things unsaid and letting the bitterness consume her until you both have amazing makeup sex. But, you're not craving her forgiveness, you crave her anger, her jealousy, her possessiveness.
The bartender finally appears as she orders two shots of tequila, she shoots you a look—a flash of annoyance on her face as she notices that the bartender has taken to not looking you in your eyes but instead at the bounce of your tits as you hum out a very girly "Can I get a lemon drop please?"
"Whatever you want princess—same tab?" The dyed pink haired bartender drops all sweetness that once laced her voice when she looks back at Abby, Abby giving her a tight lipped smile and a nod, pulling at your stool to get you a bit closer.
"What a bitch." The blonde mumbles under the vibration of the bass and the loud chatter of the club, "Stop, she was so nice—cute too." You defend, resting your head in your palm as you look at her through your lashes. She wants to kill you, in fact she imagines burning the club down while the bartender melts into a puddle of flirtatious magenta colored goo.
Her jaw tightens at your words, "If she's so cute, why don't you fuck her?" Her head snaps towards yours, your faces close so you both can hear over the loud atmosphere. "I just might. You're always so mean to me, maybe I want someone nicer." You shrug, rolling your tongue along your teeth.
"Terrible game you're playing, sweetheart." Abby plants a kiss to your cheek, a ploy to get you to shut up, but tonight's all about pushing her buttons, forcing her out of her own control—even if it's just for the night. "What? You don't think she'll be into me?" You giggle against her skin as her large hand goes to take ownership of your waist.
Abby knows you. She knows how manipulative you can be, how you're able to twist her nerves just right to get the perfect reaction. It took her too long to realize what you were doing to her, but when she did she promised not to let you do it again.
And now here she is, falling back into your trap—head first with her heart on her sleeve.
The magenta haired bartender comes back, placing Abby's shots in front of her and resting your lemon drop carefully in front of you. You decide now is the time to up the ante, jokes were fun but you're a woman of action. "I looove your face tat! Six, right?" You lean forward slightly, leaving Abby's arm to falter back to its designated position back at her side.
You're being so obvious and the bartender catches it, smiling brightly for you as she throws out a "Vi, but you can call me whatever you want." For a brief second Vi's eyes dart over to a fuming Abby, who is heavily bouncing her leg to contain her anger. "Nice to meet you Vi." You wink at her before returning to Abby who looks as if she's three seconds from dragging you out of this bar moaning and sweating, kicking and screaming.
"Real classy." Abby is furious, her cheeks are hot and her stupid leg won't stop bouncing, so you go in for the kill. "Abby...are you—jealous?" Abby goes dangerously quiet, her hands gripping the small glass shot glass. She throws it back, slamming the empty shot hard onto the table.
"Shut up." She growls, using two fingers to rub at her temples. You don't allow her to self soothe, instead you place a hand on her thigh. Your fingers find their way closer to the crotch of her pants, your hands rubs over the plastic that hides just beneath it.
You recoil, your eyes blown wide as you look Abby in her color changing baby blues, your face holds a look of shock, but Abby says nothing—slowly twirling the drink in her fingers. "Why'd you bring that?" You're breathless as you ask, yet she doesn't look directly at you. Abby gives you a side eye before throwing back her shot once more.
"I know you." Another two shots ordered as you sip your lemon drop, the bartender keeps giving you eyes, and you pretend not to notice, her part is done and it's all you now.
One more last ditch effort to get Abby to fuck you in this club, something she usually would object to but tonight feels different, like she has something to prove. "Do you wanna dance with me?" You ask, head tilted to the side as if it were a challenge, you know she wont say yes, this isn't her scene at all, and with the way she eyes the dancefloor you know her answer already.
You slide off the stool as she continues to watch over the dancing bodies, the pop music makes her head hurt and the thought of sweaty strangers rubbing up against her makes her stomach hurt. "I'm good here." She's definitive as she downs her fourth shot.
"You should slow down." You offer, but she ignores your good faith, waving you off as she orders another drink. So, you fuck off at her command, yet you stay close by, directly in her eye line. It's not long before you're adopted by a group of very drunk girls who have no problem of letting their hands roam your body, shouted praises falling from their lips as you grind into nothing.
Every now and again you can feel Abby's piercing eyes on you, but you present yourself as completely oblivious.
It takes all of five minutes before she's up, walking towards you with the confidence of six tequila shots and a whiskey sour and the gracefulness of a baby deer. Abby's behind you now, her large hands finding their way back to your waist. Even with your eyes closed you know it's her, you can smell her woody and bergamot leaning perfume and hear the way she grunts a little at the sway of your hips.
"Thought you didn't dance to this kind of music." You say teasingly in her ear, your ass applying more pressure to her strap and uncoincidentally—her clit. "Shut up." Her attempts to silence you do nothing but spur you on more. "Make me."
The final nail in your coffin, the one that seals your fate has been hammered and it's enough to have Abby dragging you to the back of the club towards the bathrooms. Beautifully, there's no line as she sticks the forgotten "out of order" sign on the door while pushing you into the small club washroom.
You're on her in seconds with the eagerness of a virgin whose decided to lose their virginity, a spitty and very horny makeout session and a few misplaced moans and Abby has shoved your face against the cool metal of the door.
"Oh my gorgeous girl," Abby lands a smack to your ass as she pulls your dress up to lay just above your hips. She pulls down and pockets your panties, pushing them deep into the pockets of her black mens jeans. Her hand comes to your mouth as you moan at the coldness of the room hitting your soaked cunt, "Spit." She commands and you do as told, eyes straining to watch her rub your saliva over the sparkly blue plastic.
Her thick fingers shoved deep into your entrance, curling upwards as she preps you for her cock, "Is this why you've been so desperate for my attention?" Her fingers continue to work , your moans flowing from your lips like a prayer.
"I-I missed you~" You cry as she pulls her fingers from your aching hole, adding your juices to the medley that drips from the base of her strap. "So that gives you a right to flirt with some pink haired bartender? God, you're such a slut." Abby bullys the tip of her strap into your tight pussy, her pace slow and accommodating as she listens to the symphony that is your whimpers and mewls.
Her pace—to you—is tortuously slow, not at all what you expected from a hot night out with the buff girl and it's driving you slightly insane. You push your hips against her to match her thrusts, which in turn, earns your a tug on your hair, a warning yet you continue.
"You're so greedy." She comments, dragging the dick away from you, you gasp and turn to look at her. "Abby!" You whine, kiss plump lips in a firm pout as she adjusts herself, the only sound being her humming along to the song outside and the jingling of her belt buckle.
She acts as if you aren't even there, like this is routine for her and you aren't damp and ready for her to fuck you crazy. How does she have such self control as if she's not even drunk, like she didn't down about 7 different drinks mere minutes before.
But, Abby has always been calculated, it's one of the reasons you fell for her, so it shouldn't surprise you.
"Be a good girl for me, yeah?" She has your face in her hands now, a soft squeeze as she shuffles you over to the double sink before hoisting you up onto the marble. "Wanna see you take it all," The plastic is inside of you again, her pace bruising and harsh. Abby's stuffed you full, the silicone balls of the dick are the only thing that isn't inside of you.
It's such a delicious feeling, being so full after being left high and dry by Ellie. Ellie's a great eater but Abby know's just the right spots to hit to have your mind swirling.
Every sentence that escapes you comes out in fucked out babbles as she continues to plunge deep inside of you, the back of your head hitting the mirror, not for long though, as Abby has taken to protecting your head with her hand.
"That's my good girl." She praises, pulling your body flush against her own, your legs spread further until you're in a spread eagle, groans and pleas for her finding their way into the ether. "Fu-Fuckkk, ohmygawd." Your hands have no valid hold on anything, so you've resorted to digging your nails into your palms.
"You sound so good, baby, been missing this." As if on cue, she starts to fuck into you faster, harsher, her brows knitted together as she focuses all her energy on making you cum faster than...
Your body begins to quiver, shaking slowly as your high approaches. Abby's hand dips, touching your engorged clit, you hiss at the sudden attention, your eyes big and doe. "P-please—I-I don't think I can...I can't take it." Her hips never slow, even as they stutter and the strap slips out of you, she forces it back in as her fingers start their assault, rubbing away as she continues to drive into you.
"Ohmyg—" Your lips get trapped between your teeth for a millisecond before your mouth falls open as you cum all over Abby's dick. Even though you came, and you're still extremely sensitive, she doesn't stop. It's like she's in a trance as she continues to hammer into you, her hand clamping over your mouth when you get too loud. Your pussy grips onto the silicone with a vice, but she still continues to dagger into you.
Another shiver and you're cumming again, your eyes rolling to the back of your head while Abby pulls out of you. You look dumb and fucked out, completely tired as she snaps a picture of you. There's a smile on her face, soft yet knowing, but you're way too tired to call her out on it.
"Let's get you home pretty girl." Your brows furrow at the familiar nickname, something Abby has never called you. "What'dyou call me?" You ask as she carries you bridal style out of the bathroom. She doesn't answer, instead she gently places you back onto your feet, one hand holding her phone while the other is slunk lazily around your shoulders.
"I've got an early morning tomorrow—uh I guess today, but don't worry I got you an uber." She smiles down at you, but her eyes are cloudy and far away. There's something bothering her, but Abby isn't one for sharing her feelings, other times she's barely around long enough for you to ask about school or her internship. This whole show isn't what's odd, it's her body language, like she's trying her best not to say something that eats away at her.
Abby knows you, but you know Abby and trying to ask her any questions that she has not deemed as "safe" result in her clamming up. So you say nothing as her jaw clenches, her eyes spot something—someone— that you haven't noticed, too busy fighting with yourself on whether or not you pushed her too far tonight.
Your ride arrives and she helps you get in with no problem, smiling to herself once the car starts to drive off. You place your head on the cool glass of the window, the one that faces to the opposite of the street from where Abby once stood.
A flash of familiar auburn hair catches your eye. It startles you. Your body lurches forward as you spin your head to see if it was Ellie, but the crowd has moved and swallowed up the only evidence you had. It's like she was a phantom and your head starts to race with what if scenarios that cause your heart rate to increase.
You write it off for your own mental health, telling yourself that it was just the sleep playing tricks on you. Because there is no possible way that Ellie Williams was at that club, and if she was you would've seen her at some point during the night. Unless, that is, Ellie is really good at hiding, her eyes always on you while you flirted with the bartender, watching you dance with Abby on the dancefloor, and finally stared in horror as Abby carried you out of the bathroom.
But that's impossible. Right?
Abby "Big Dawg" Anderson—Hope you enjoyed the show ;)
The dm comes through to Ellie's instagram near instantly, her mind clouded with anger, yet it's completely silent. Has she gone numb? No, she just hates to lose—a trait she has begrudgingly learned she shares with the asshole blonde that taunts her.
Ellie Wellie :P—kys.
*Abby "Big Dawg" Anderson reacted "😂" to your message.*
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⤷ permataglist゛ @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @cup1dssworld, @jejjdjdk, @keliamks, @imdrowningindispair, @ylxiruˎˊ˗
let me know if you want to be added to my permatags or if i missed you! part two coming soon!