Your Co-worker!Ellie takes you home after a holiday party.
Ever since you started your job at your local news channel your supervisors, Ellie and Abby have caught your eye. They’re always making sure they talk to you whenever you all’s schedules align, calling you their “favorite employee”, helping out with any stories you need to write, and even making time to talk about their personal life with you.
They weren’t that much older than you, only about 1-2 years but it felt like much more with them being in a higher position.
There was a holiday party this weekend due to christmas and new years on the rise. You didn’t know how you were gonna get back home since your car is in the shop and you don’t feel safe taking the bus late at night.
Both of them jumped at the chance to take you home but eventually, after a long battle of Uno, Ellie won the battle while Abby just laughed and walked away, accepting her defeat.
The holiday party was fun with good food and vibes but you kept sneaking glimpses of them staring at you. There was no mistake, you did look good. You had on a small black dress that you had to you looking delicious. It wasn’t that short due to it being a work event but it was enough for them to keep taking glances at your thick thighs. You kept getting flustered from the stares but you couldn’t help it. They looked like they wanted to eat you up.
“You ready to go?” Ellie asked after seeing that you were beginning to look tired. You nodded your head and started to make your way towards the door. She hurried up and said her goodbyes to everyone then jogged out to catch up with you. As she closed in the gap, she put her hand on the small your back to lead you towards her car. That slight touch left shivers down your back.
Approaching the car she opened the door for you.“Ladies first.”
“Thank you” you said. Mumbling it with a small but appreciative voice as you slid into her car. It was a very nice black Honda Civic. It was very clean and well kept which you loved.
Hopping into the car she buckled up her seatbelt and started the car so it could finally start warming up. “Is there anything you want to listen to specifically?”
“Hm, I really like anything chill, like Steve Lacy.”
Ellie smiled softly at you. “ Of course you do.” Scoffing as she put on Dochano from his album The Lo-Fis.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked as you giggled at her reaction.
“Oh nothing, nothing. Can you put your address in my maps though?” She said holding her phone out.
You took her phone and put in the address to your apartment building. Taking the phone back she made a surprised face. “We only live 5 minutes away from each other, maybe this can happen more often.”
“Maybe..”
The drive lasted about 20 minutes and throughout that time you and Ellie got to know each other even better. You learned that she loved to game which was such a coincidence because you love to post makeup and GRWm content, she even loves to cook but isn’t the greatest at it. She usually ends up burning something and get take out instead.
The car ride was so nice with her and the conversations felt natural as always with her.
Pulling up to your building, you started to get sad. You didn’t want this moment to end and you didn’t know when the next time you would be scheduled with her would be.
“Can I-”
“Would you mind if-”
Laughing, you all both realized that you started talking at the same time. With a small smile to your lips you finally got your question out. “Would you mind walking me up to my building please?”
“I was just about to ask if you I could.” She replied with a giddy smile to her face. She got out the car to come to your side and open your door.
Walking up to your steps slowly there were many things going through your head. Does she even like me? What about Abby? Would our coworkers judge us if they us like this? You try and push away those negative thoughts and be in the moment.
“It was really nice of you to give me a ride. Thank you, I really appreciate it.”
“Of course, I can’t have you getting kidnapped. Then I wouldn’t be able to see your beautiful face again.”
Flirting. She was definitely flirting and there was no doubt about that. The only question now is, what do you do about that flirting?
There wasn’t much time to think about that as she was already making her move. All of a sudden you hear a smooch and realize that she’s kissed you in the cheek.
You can’t believe that she just did that. The butterflies in your stomach are going insane right now. Looking into her light green eyes you see the wonder in them.
“Have a good night Y/N.” She said as she walked back to her car, waving at you. You waved back, still in a kind of shock. You touched where her lips touched with your hand
“Boy am I in for some trouble.” You mumbled thinking about your life decisions that led you to this moment.
Little did you know, Ellie was driving back to her shared apartment with Abby. Ready to tell her all about what happened.
bsf ellie being a little handsy 🥴 standing behind you and gently grabbing your waist to move you to the side - a small “s’cuse me” or idly tracing little circles along your legs during a movie, oblivious (or is she?)
brina… r u TRYING to turn me on rn??? ???
she does it on purpose. you know she does, and so does she.
its happened twice already tonight, her hands gently caressing you, or her fingers lightly grazing against the sliver of skin between the top of your pjs, and the end of your top.
it sends a shiver down your spine each time, your neck byrns despite her lack of effort.
you had invited her over for a sleepover, something you hadnt been able to do lately due to your clashing schedules. you had class, she had work, it was hell. so whenever the chaos of life shifted into availability, you milked the fuck out of it.
you spent the earlier half of the night catching up, both bodies taking up the small surface of your double bed as you go back and fourth about the inner workings of your seperate lives. you laid on your back, ellie on her stomach. you remember the exact moment her hand moved from her own fingers, to the exposed skin of your waist.
she rubbed delicate cirlces into you as you kept talking. you watched her smirk and you look down at her hand, and watch her eyes shift as she continues on.
then it was during the movie. she beckoned you into the sofa with a nonchalant hand, the other resting behind her head as she awaits your arrival.
“you’re laying across the couch, where exactly am i supposed to sit?” you raise an eyebrow. you’re half joking, and half wondering if tonight is the night that you’ll be crossing a line.
“just—c’mere.” she gestures to her body, reaching out for you with both hands now. you quickly shake your head, fighting down the quick smile that appears on your face.
you quickly flopped onto her body, letting her wrap her arms around you as you hide your face in her neck. you hoped to god she couldnt feel the heat radiating from you.
as the movie played out, her hands made their way up your back, one resting just above the curve of your ass, as the other rubs up and down your back. you wish to fall into the comforting touch, but the hand thats closer to your most intimate area is all the more distracting than any loving gesture could be.
now it was a few hours later, and the two of you were occupying the small kitchen space of your apartment. a bowl of “dough” sots at the back of the counter, waiting patiently as you and ellie goof off rather than put together your toppings.
the space is too confined to keep you from touching as you shift, but was big enough for comfort. you’re at the counter, grating cheese for your homemade pizza night, and ellies making her way to the fridge to grab the store bought pepperonis that you were sure werent actually meat.
“excuse me. ‘sorry..” she chuckles as she walks behind you. her hands are on your waist, her breath is warm on your neck. that was the final straw.
you whip your head around just as her hands leave your skin. your eyebrows furtowed as you look her up and down.
“what? what’s wrong?” she asks, a rather large smile on her lips.
“what’re you doing?” you ask. bringing your hands to your hips.
ellie cocks her head to the side. “what do you mean? what am i doing?” and you should know that its a trap. but you fall right in.
“you know what you’re doing.” you whisper, peering into her green eyes. Theyre already looking at you, up and down uour figure before she steps forward.
“Do i?” her laugh is lower this time, teasing and all too cocky. its a sound you bavent heard before, reserved for people other than you.
her hands meet the counter on either side of you, her eyes searching for any sign of resistance.
“I do know. I’ve just been waiting for you to catch on.” she whispers, bringing a hand to the side of your face, brushing a piece of frazzled hair away from your skin.
“you’re insane.” you declare, fighting back from leaning forward and closing the already tiny gap between you.
“yeah?” she mutters, her lips inching towards your mouth. you dont reply, instead opting to nod as you let yourself feel her breath ghosting over your lips.
shes almost there, your lips just barely grazing eachother when—
Beep!
she pulls away, her lips still pulled up into a smirk. “oven’s ready.” she winks.
summary: she’ll do anything to make you hers, you just want to see some good fucking tennis
content warning: long ass oneshot, toxic yuri, nsfw, smut, switch!ellie, switch!reader, years of gay yearning, reader is mean af, i don’t know ANYTHING about tennis even after about 100 google searches and this is probably super unrealistic but honestly idc anymore
notes: inspired by this ask! this was supposed to be pure filth but i kept making it angsty… anyways this took forever because i kept rewriting it lmao I HOPE U LOVE IT <3 feedback is always appreciated, my ask is always open for a chat
word count: 9.5k ♡ find more of my writing here
The ocean waves crashed along the shore, drowning out the music from the party you escaped from. A whole party for you, thrown by the brands that sponsored you. You sat alone under the moonlight in the cold sand, still in your party dress. Your heels discarded and tossed aside. Funny how no one notices you’re missing when the whole night is supposedly about you.
A voice behind you makes you jump. “I— I watched you play today. You were like… insane out there.” Her tone is unsure and nervous.
You put a hand on your chest, startled. You turn around to a familiar sight that you’re quite pleased about, despite coming down to the beach for some alone time. “Jeez— you scared me.”
Her hands fly up in defense, like she just got caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. “God— I’m sorry. I’m just a really big fan and— my name’s Ellie. Ellie Williams. I played yesterday. Don’t know if you saw…” She puts a hand out to shake yours.
The handshake is awkward and uncomfortable. “I know who you are.” You say, smugly. The truth is, after recently watching her in the qualifiers, you couldn’t get her out of your head. Her pretty face caught your attention first. You remembered that face from Junior Nationals when you were both sixteen. The way she played now is what kept you interested. She was nothing like the girl you once knew. She was fiery, unpredictable, and sometimes messy, but her raw passion for the sport was attractive.
“You know who I am?” She says, not prepared for that response.
“Yeah. I’m—“
“I know.” She interrupts. Of course she knows your name, she’s been watching you on TV for years after you absolutely wrecked any chance she ever had at nationals. Ellie could never stay mad at you for beating her that day, her admiration took over completely. “You’re ranked number nine worldwide. At eighteen. You’re like… a fucking goddess. Can I sit?” She starts to sit beside you in the sand before you can even approve of it. “You smoked me at nationals two years ago. You served so fast I cried after that match. Real tears.” She laughs. “You didn’t even look at me when you walked off court. You were ruthless. It was kinda hot.” Those last words slip out before she can stop herself.
You let out a breathy laugh, surprised by her boldness. “Hot? That I made you cry?”
Ellie shrugs. “Perfect form, ice cold stare, destroyed me like it was nothing after I spent my whole life training.” She looks at you with a mischievous grin. “Plus, I’ve always had a thing for girls who could crush me.”
You can’t help but smirk. There was something intriguing about her. “What’s your rank, Ellie Williams?” You say her full name teasingly.
Ellie shifts, her demeanor is suddenly less playful. “Lower than yours.” She laughs awkwardly.
“Top one hundred?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.
She crosses her arms over her chest, her body language flaunting her insecurity. “Almost— but I qualified to be here which still feels pretty fucking sick. I know I’m not gonna win but give me a few more years and I’ll be up against you for the trophy one day.”
You laugh again, a real laugh. “Oh really? Are you gonna cry again?” You tease.
Ellie throws her head back with a scoff, looking up at the stars. “Next time we play you’re gonna be the one crying.” She jokes. She’s glad you can’t see how red her face has gotten in the moonlight at the sound of your laugh.
You look up at the stars as well, taking in the beautiful summer sky. “Well… I’m looking forward to that day.”
A slow, dorky grin creeps over her face. “Me too.”
You look back at her. “So why’d you follow me out here? What are your intentions? To flirt?” You ask boldly, knowing everyone always wants something from you. Advice, tips, money, promo, there’s always something.
Ellie feels caught. “I uhh— well first, I’ve been trying to work up the courage to talk to you for the past two hours so don’t think it was a careless decision.” She laughs, feeling the heat in her face again. “I kinda like… wanted to know if… if you wanted… a date? A date with me. I wanna get to know you underneath all the tennis shit. Fuck— not like underneath— that sounds bad—“ She panics.
Your eyebrows furrow as your head tilts in confusion. “A date?”
Ellie fiddles with her thumbs in her lap nervously. “Yeah. A date. Like… no tennis talk. Just dinner, or coffee, or ice cream, if you even eat ice cream… uhhh— just us pretending to be normal eighteen year old girls.” She looks down at her hands as she talks.
You sigh softly, not wanting to hurt her feelings. Normally this would piss you off to no end, but there’s something about her that you can’t quite shake. “I don’t date.” Is all you say.
Ellie nods. “I figured…”
You hesitate before the words slip out. “Why do you assume I date girls?” Keeping love out of your career was important to you.
She had never assumed anything, just desperately hoped. She knew there wasn’t a man on this earth that deserved a woman like you. “Do you? Like girls?” She asks, carefully.
“You didn’t answer my question.” You say, your voice shakes, making you seem human for once.
Ellie lets out a self deprecating laugh. “I didn’t assume. I just got so carried away with my crush on you that I guess I convinced myself that a girl as cool and badass as you wouldn’t date stupid, gross boys.” She rubs her sweaty palms on her jeans, nervously.
You laugh, a warm, comforting sound to break the awkward tension. “I don’t date guys at all. They smell bad. And I don’t like facial hair.”
Ellie’s expression is confused as she tries to figure you out. “So you don’t like anyone? You’ve never liked someone before? You’re just not human?” She teases, brushing your shoulder with hers playfully.
The confession slips out of you easily around her. “I don’t date anyone but I like to kiss girls. They’re soft. No facial hair.” You can’t understand why you’re opening up to her like this, but her presence makes it easy to.
A disbelieving grin spreads across Ellie’s face, a winning smile. “So, you’re saying I have a chance? Hypothetically? To kiss you one day?”
You giggle again, unable to stop yourself. “When and where are you playing again?”
“Tomorrow. Court three.” She says, too quickly. “Ten AM. Are you coming to watch?” She tries to sound nonchalant about it but fails.
You smirk at her, that teasing, soul crushing smirk. “If you play like an absolute beast out there— and win… then maybe, we could possibly hang out again.” You glance down to her lips and back up to her eyes. Super kissable. Ugh.
Ellie was suddenly really thankful for the loud ocean waves crashing, otherwise you’d probably be able to hear her heart beating. “I’m gonna win, I swear. I’m winning, and I want to see you tomorrow night.” She says, a little too eager.
You push yourself up off the sand, wiping your dress clean. You grab your heels and start to walk off. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ellie Williams.” You tease.
The sound of her full name coming from your mouth again, like you already have an inside joke, is all the motivation she needs to win any match
—
Ellie dominated the court the next morning, knowing you were watching. She smiled at you between every set, knowing she was killing it, knowing she was impressing you.
There was no room for mistakes, no room for hesitation. Her serves were faster than usual, her footwork was flawless. She was practically possessed, pure fire and adrenaline. She always wants to win but she’s never wanted it this badly. This wasn’t just about winning, this was about proving herself worthy of you. Every point was one step closer to the girl she’s been crushing on for years.
There’s murmurs in the crowd about her, how she’s not even ranked high but playing flawlessly, how it seems like she’s suddenly come out of nowhere as a new threat. You feel like you’re watching a fucking star in the making.
Ellie wins the match, making it look easy. The crowd roared for her but she couldn’t even acknowledge it. She tosses her racket down, wiping the sweat from her brows with the back of her arm. Her gaze finds yours immediately, giving you a shit eating grin. She knows she just won your affection.
Her confidence wavers when she walks off court and sees you standing there, arms crossed over your chest, waiting for her. She’s suddenly insecure about how sweaty she is. She slows her steps, not wanting to see too eager, but fuck, she’s eager.
“That’s what I wanted to see.” You say, your tone is prideful, like you got this confidence out of her.
Ellie approaches you close enough to whisper, “Told you I’d win.”
You lean in even closer. “Do you always keep your promises?” You whisper back in her ear.
Ellie lets out a shaky breath. “The ones that matter, yeah.”
Your lips get even closer to her ear. “Room 406. Nine o’clock. Don’t leave me waiting.” Your warm breath on her skin makes her shiver
—
Ellie has to remind herself to breathe as she enters your hotel room. This was your space that she fought to be alone with you in, and actually getting what she wants for once overwhelms her. She stood awkwardly by the entrance as you closed the door, unsure if she should sit, take her shoes off, or even speak.
“Hi, you.” You say, looking at her, admiring. Your tone is like a soft purr.
All hope Ellie had of keeping her cool girl composure was gone at the sound of your soft bedroom voice and the way you looked in that little tank top. Her throat is dry as she responds. “Hi…” To her horror, it comes out more like a squeak. She quickly cleared her throat trying to collect herself.
You gently take both of her hands in yours, they’re calloused from years of gripping her rackets. “Don’t be shy…” you tease, walking her closer to the bed. Ellie’s heart was beating so hard she could feel it in her ears.
She lets out a breathy laugh. “I’m not shy.” She whispered, lying horribly as her freckled cheeks blushed pink.
You drop her hands and step back, sitting on the edge of the bed. You lean back on your elbows, never breaking eye contact.
“Then show me how bad you want to touch me.”
Oh shit.
The energy in the room changed instantly, Ellie nearly forgets how to breathe. You didn’t even attempt any small talk to break the ice first. You’re lying there challenging her to touch you. The bold, flirty girl from the night before is suddenly gone, and she’s really fucking nervous.
Ellie slowly, carefully, steps between your legs, her hands grip your thighs, rubbing softly, staring down at you like you’re the most valuable work of art. She didn’t rush, didn’t dive right into this like she’s daydreamed about a thousand times, she needs to take her time and appreciate every moment.
One of her hands moves up from your thigh to trace your jawline, a soft, featherlight touch that somehow feels more intense than a desperate one. Her eyes follow her hand as it traces down the side of your neck, just feeling, and fuck, it feels good.
Both hands move down your chest now, over your breasts and onto your stomach. The room is quiet, just the hum of the air conditioner and your breathing.
Ellie hesitates. “You sure?” She asks. Being able to touch you like this without a date first feels wrong to her.
“Go ahead.” You murmur.
She gently grips the edge of your tank top, pushing the fabric up slowly. There’s no teasing smirk now, just quiet admiration. Her lips part like she’s about to say something, but she stops herself.
Ellie holds her breath as she pushes the fabric over your breasts, revealing your bare chest. She freezes, in awe of your beauty.
“Oh my God.” She mumbles, taking two handfuls, squeezing lightly.
You smile up at her teasingly as you tug on her hoodie. “Off.” You demand.
She does what she’s told, despite not wanting to take her hands off you. Her hoodie comes off and over her head in one quick pull, she kicks her sneakers off and watches as you fully remove your tank top, leaving you half undressed for her. Ellie discards her sweatpants while she’s at it, now just in a thin tank top and boxers.
You stand up from the bed to get your hands on her again. You meet her gaze as your fingers slide under her shirt, lifting slowly. “Can I?” You whisper, your face painfully close to hers.
She nods a little too fast, too eagerly, her arms come up above her head in a second. You pull her top off completely, tossing it aside. There’s nothing between your chests now, just skin touching skin.
Ellie’s body is like a trophy of her discipline. Her shoulders and biceps are strong, dusted with the same freckles as her face. Her skin is golden and sun-kissed from a whole summer of training. You take her chin between your fingers gently, tilting her head to meet your face.
Her breath hitches at your gentle touch. “What are you looking at?” She whispers, shyly.
You hesitate as your eyes continue to memorize her face. “You’re beautiful…” you whisper.
Ellie chokes— unable to find the right words. Beautiful. Her eyes lock onto yours, wide and green and full of emotion.
“I—“ She tries.
You cut her off with a kiss.
She freezes for a moment before kissing you back.
You hold her face as you kiss her fiercely, like you’ve been holding yourself back, because you have. You’ve been impatiently waiting for hours to get your hands on her. She grabs your waist as your fingers tangle in her hair.
Instead of matching your intensity, she slows the kiss, softening more with every press to your lips.
Ellie’s hands move down, grabbing you by the backside of your thighs, lifting you up, still not breaking the kiss. She lays you onto the bed gently, like you’re something fragile. There’s no tossing or roughness, just gentle hands guiding you down comfortably. She’s trying so hard to play it cool and not fuck this up.
Ellie pulls back from the kiss, breath ragged. Her heart is slamming in her chest, she tries to ignore it.
Her hands find the waistband of your shorts. “May I?” She asks, putting on a fake confident tone.
You nod, she tugs at them, pulling them down over your hips. She lets out a groan at the sight of your little lace thong. “You’re killing me.” She laughs, tossing the shorts to the floor. Her hands come up quickly to touch the lace. “Did you wear this for me?” She asks, placing a soft kiss to your hipbone.
You bite your lip, holding back a grin. “You played really good today. Turned me on.” You admit.
Ellie smiles against your skin, still placing soft kisses on your hips. “I got you all worked up?” She teases, finally finding her confidence.
You let out a breath. “Watching a pretty girl play like that is sexy. Especially when she’s doing it to impress me.” You blush.
Ellie’s fingers hook over the lace of your panties, pulling them down slowly. “The thought of this is what had me so focused out there.” She says, continuing to undress you. “Fuck, you’re so pretty. Can I keep these?” She jokes, holding your underwear up in her hand.
“No.” You laugh.
Ellie kisses the inside of your thighs, getting close to where you’ve been wanting her.
“Why not? I’ll keep them in my bag for every game. It’ll remind me who I’m playing for.” She jokes, kissing higher up your thigh.
“Because—“ You’re cut off by her tongue pressing down firmly, right where you needed it. “Fuck—“
Ellie hums, the vibration of it sends a shiver through you. The curse rolling off your tongue fueled her, she pulls you in even closer by your thighs, devouring you like she’s starved for it.
There’s no more shy, gentle touches. It’s full-on hunger. Her tongue speeds up, then slows down every time she feels you start to shake. She’ll stay here all night with her face between your thighs, right where she belongs.
“Tastes so fuckin’ good.” She mumbles. She switches to slow, teasing circles against your clit.
“Ellie—“ You moan.
She’s still shocked you even remember her name, moaning it in bed is something she can’t even begin to comprehend.
“Yeah, baby?” She asks, her voice muffled.
“Need more.” You whine.
Ellie didn’t need to be told twice. She takes your most sensitive spot between her lips and sucks gently. Your body jolts underneath her.
“Oh, is that what you like?” She teases, doing it again with more pressure.
Your hands grab at her hair, not pushing or pulling her, just keeping her there.
“Fucckkkkk.” You moan, your hands grip her hair even tighter. Your legs tremble around her head.
She wants to sweet talk you into reaching your orgasm but she’s too focused on the task at hand to even speak.
Her hands push your legs open wider, her mouth finds a steady rhythm that makes you start to squirm in her grip.
Her tongue slows down as she pushes a careful, steady finger into you. She looks up, watching for a reaction. Your head relaxes back into the pillows with a quiet moan. That was the exact response she needed.
She adds a second finger, feeling you stretch around her.
“Just like that.“ You moan. Your pleasure and praise send a thrill through her.
You lift yourself up on your elbows to look down and watch her. “I wanna cum.” You whine, as if asking for her permission.
Ellie’s eyes are dark with desire as they lock onto yours. She didn’t speak, didn’t stop, didn’t tease you, she kept her face in the heat of you, doing everything she can to bring you over the edge.
The sight of her face between your legs, so eager to please, is making your head spin.
Your body heats up at the edge of your release. Your thighs squeeze her head as you start to lift off the bed. She holds you down with her free hand as her fingers speed up, matching the rhythm of her tongue. You push her face into you, chasing more friction before the comedown. The sound that comes out of you is sinful as she pushes you over the edge. Soft whimpers and breathy moans, her name repeating on your lips. Just for a moment, you forget about everything. The pressure, the competition, the fans, the press, the cameras. Right now, it’s only pleasure.
“Oh my— fucking— God.” You choke out, chest heaving. Ellie’s movements slow down, her touch is gentle and soft as she works you through it.
Ellie’s breath is ragged as she finally pulls back for air. A string of spit connects her bottom lip to you. Her face is wet and glistening from your release. The sight makes the heat pool in your stomach all over again.
For once she wasn’t trying to play it cool, she was in a daze from the taste of you and the intensity of it all. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, crawling back up over you.
“You okay?” She asks, still breathless, her hair is messy and falling over her eyes. Her voice is so sweet and tender that it almost hurts.
You reach up and brush your fingers through her hair, fixing it. “Amazing, yeah.” You whisper. The moment feels way too intimate to be a casual hookup. Ellie’s chest is warm with the accomplishment of pleasing you.
She presses her body against yours, leaning in to kiss you softly. No hunger this time, no tongue, no intensity, just a quiet worship. “That makes me happy.” She mumbles against your lips.
“Are you still my number one fan after that?” You tease.
Ellie lets out a breathy laugh, running her fingers through your hair. “Yeah. Even more now. Don’t even care if it makes me look pathetic.” She smiles.
You press a quick kiss to her lips. “What can I do for you now? What do you like?” You ask, sliding a hand down her stomach, reaching for the waistband of her boxers.
Ellie blinked at you in confusion before shaking her head. “Nothing.” She says, confident in her decision. This wasn’t about taking turns, she was satisfied enough just seeing you feel good. Plus, she’s way too nervous to even get off.
“Nothing?” You ask, looking at her like she’s crazy.
Ellie hesitates before speaking. “How about next time? If you’ll let me have the honor again.” She jokes.
You let out a laugh of disbelief. “If you keep playing how you played today, I’ll consider it.” You say, pressing a kiss to her neck.
The way you were continuing to challenge her turned her on more than she would like to admit. “Ohhh, that’s how this is, huh?” She teases. “I gotta keep earning it? I haven’t won you over yet?” She asks, tilting her head so you can get more access.
You continue placing slow, gentle kisses down her neck. “Absolutely not. You have to get your rank up. And work on that backhand. It’s weak.” You tease, feeling up her biceps as you kiss down to her collarbones.
Ellie scoffs playfully. She wants to argue but you’re completely correct. “So I have to be a top ranked player before you’ll kiss me again?”
You pull back, looking down at her. The eye contact feels heavy as your tone gets serious. “Get your rank up. Get yourself into another Grand Slam. Cut the negative ‘I know I’m not gonna win’ bullshit that you said to me last night. Act like a fucking winner and maybe you’ll start to be one.”
Ellie freezes at your harsh words. The playful mood disappears from the air in a second. She felt like a puppy being scolded. There’s no sugarcoating with you, just cold, hard truth. She almost wants to defend herself but she knows you have no patience for pity or excuses.
Ellie nods, eyes wide and exhausted. Her jaw tightens before she speaks. “Okay. Okay. You’re right. And I’ll see you next year, then…” She says, her disappointment showing through in her tone. She kisses you one last time before getting up from the bed, knowing if she stays any longer it’ll seem too desperate.
There’s an awkward silence as you both get up to dress. You already miss the teasing and laughter.
“Here.” You say, tossing your lace panties at Ellie. She catches them quick, with ease, like the athlete that she is.
“For me?” She smiles, shoving them in the pocket of her sweatpants.
“Keep ‘em. I’ll see you next year.”
—
Year Two
You sat on a velvet stool, nursing a glass of wine at your hotel bar in Paris. You swirled the red liquid in the glass, lost in thought. You know you look pathetic sitting alone, and you know you shouldn’t be drinking, but the pre-competition nerves are getting the best of you.
A familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “Look who it is.”
You turn to her, with your eyebrows raised. “Ellie Williams? Is that you?” You joke.
You already knew she’d be here. You’ve been silently watching her for the last year. You watched all her matches, stalked her Instagram weekly, watched her climb the rankings relentlessly.
“The one and only.” She says, shrugging off her coat and sitting on the stool next to you. She looks older, more defined, more confident. Even more attractive than last year.
She orders her drink and settles into the seat. There’s an awkward silence considering you just ghosted her for almost an entire year.
“You look great.” You admit.
Ellie smiles, she knows she’s grinded, gotten stronger and more confident. She knows you’ve noticed, too. “Thanks. You too. Congratulations about Australia by the way. I watched you on TV that night.” She sips her wine, sheepishly. She DM’d you that night to say congrats, you never answered.
You blush. “You’re the one who went up forty spots in singles. Automatically qualified to be here. You’ve been working hard.” You squeeze her arm affectionately.
Hearing that from you was the ultimate trophy to her.
She gives a small, humble nod. “Worked my ass off.”
Your hand stays on her bicep, feeling her muscles over the thin fabric of her button up shirt. “I can tell.” You tease.
There’s a pause before she speaks, nervous to test the waters. Her voice drops deeper, quieter. “Do I get my reward?”
The reward you promised: to get you alone again.
You laugh softly. “Do I look like I’d give in that easily?” Your hand drops from her arm because you do look desperate for her right now, and to be completely honest, you are.
Ellie straightens her posture. “I did everything you asked.” Her voice is sultry and smooth. She leans in painfully close. “Don’t I deserve something?”
God, you want to kiss her right here, right now. “What do you have in mind?”
“Dinner. We’re in Paris, c’mon. I’ll take you anywhere you want. You can order the most expensive things on the menu and I won’t even roll my eyes.” She smiles flirtatiously, her foot nudges yours underneath the bar.
You shake your head. “I already told you I don’t go on dates. Career first.”
Ellie pulls back. “It doesn’t have to be a date. It can just be food. With me. You have to eat dinner regardless.” She’s frustrated, but riling her up is part of the fun for you.
“No.” You start, pausing to sip from your glass. “Sounds exactly like a date.”
Ellie’s voice softens. She wants to be mad, but she understands how devoted you are to your career. “Fine. No dinner… How about a walk? We can go right now…” Her gaze darts to the window to see if it’s still raining.
You sigh. “Fine.”
Once your glasses are empty and the tab is paid, by Ellie, of course, she doesn’t hesitate to grab your jacket from the back of your stool and help you into it like a gentleman. She adjusts the collar for a second too long, her hands lingering on your shoulders. She throws her own jacket on with much less care and attention. “Ready?”
The air outside is cool, but not cold. The pavement is still wet from the rain earlier. The streetlights reflect off of it, casting a golden glow. It’s Ellie’s first time in Paris and she can feel the romance in the air.
You walk in tandem, awkwardly, silently. Your arms are crossed over your chest, she just wants to hold your hand.
You break the silence first. “I saw your little meltdown on ESPN.” You look over at her, smirking.
Ellie lets out a choked sound. “Oh God—“
She was all over the sports news a few months prior after screaming at the umpire for calling one of her shots out when it was clearly in. Getting a warning only made her angrier. She threw insults at him, yelling ‘til security had to run and grab her. She was disqualified immediately.
The headlines were everywhere.
Up And Coming Tennis Star Loses Her Cool At The Miami Open
Ellie Williams Puts Her Career On The Line With An Emotional Meltdown
Williams Disqualified From Miami Open Over Verbal Assault
You watched the clip over and over. Her raw fury, her face red with rage as security held her back. It was the closest you ever got to breaking and answering that DM you’d been ignoring.
“I loved it. It was sexy.” You tease.
Ellie’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Sexy? You thought my career ruining televised breakdown was sexy?”
Your body finally starts to relax as you laugh. “Do you have a PR team now? You must be a nightmare to work with.”
Ellie’s eyes crinkle as she laughs, the embarrassment starts to fade. “I do. They were so pissed at me. Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“That was genuinely the best tennis I’ve watched all year. I love the way you play. You’re so unpredictable. So much fire and passion. So yeah… Sexy.” Your shoulder bumps hers as you walk. You both feel the sparks.
Ellie hesitates, trying to process your words. She’s been relentlessly scolded by her team for that. Her fans defended her, but no one praised her for it besides you. “So… You like when I lose my cool?”
You laugh at how ridiculous that sounds. “Yeah. Guess I do. We should get into an argument sometime.” You nudge her shoulder again, on purpose this time.
Ellie laughs, enough for the wrinkles around her eyes to show. She couldn’t help how intrigued she was by you. “We are never having a normal first date.” She giggles.
Your tone is suddenly less playful. “It’s not a date.” You remind her.
“Right. Can we argue about that? I’ll even yell.” She teases. “Personally, I think we’d be great together. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.” She says, no real venom in her voice, just frustration from how bad she wants you.
“Yeah? Why?” You push.
She doesn’t hesitate for even a second. “Because you understand me. We both devoted our entire lives to a sport before we even graduated high school. We didn’t grow up normal.”
She continues before you can speak. “You actually get me. Everyone tells me I’m too much. Do you know what they call me? Intense, unreliable, not worth betting on, emotional, embarrassing, competitive to a fault. You like when I’m too much. You actually see me.” Her head is down as she walks, the truth spilling out of her.
You feel a pang in your chest, you push it down. “And what do you have to offer me?” You ask.
“Well first—“ Ellie clears her throat. “I’m still your number one fan.” She actually looks up at you now, giving you a playful wink.
“Second, when I want something, I fight hard for it.”
She takes a breath.
“Third, I genuinely would do anything you asked me to. I don’t think I could ever say no to you.” She admits, her face heats up as she says it.
You try so hard not to smile. “Do you think you’re the only person who wants me like this?”
Ellie shakes her head with a breathy laugh. “No. Of course not… But I promise you, I want it more than anyone else.”
Her words and the romance of Paris get to your head. You want to grab her right there and kiss her, but you keep yourself composed. Before you can even think of a response, a welcome distraction shows up. A perfect view of The Eiffel Tower sparkling as you turn a street corner. You both stop walking.
Ellie’s eyes went wide in amazement, it was prettier than she ever imagined, and for some reason it made her want to cry. You don’t say a word, just letting her take in the moment. You’ve seen Paris a handful of times already, it felt special again looking at it through her eyes. Your head slowly, hesitantly rests against her shoulder. Your hand slides down her arm until your fingers are intertwined. Neither of you move, or speak, just sitting there in a quiet moment of intimacy.
After a minute or two, Ellie’s free hand lifts your chin to look at her. Her lips are on yours before you can even react. You practically hiss, turning your face away from hers. “No, Ellie.” You mumble, despite how much you really wanted that kiss.
Ellie froze, not angry or upset, but genuinely hurt. Her hand squeezes yours one last time before she lets go.
She looks you dead in the eye as she speaks. “You know, I really wish you weren’t pretending this wasn’t something special.”
Her words make you feel sick.
—
Ellie threw it all away later that week, losing a match in round two of the tournament. All her hard work leading up to this no longer mattered. She was fuming as she stormed into the locker room, her face red, eyebrows narrowed. She yanked off her jersey aggressively, throwing it, before sitting down on a bench with her head in her hands, moments away from falling apart.
You followed behind her quietly after watching from the stands. You entered the locker room, not rushing in, but waiting for Ellie’s reaction, like a ticking time bomb.
She looks up at you, exhausted and shattered, but doesn’t say a word.
“Hey.” You start.
Ellie lets out an angry sigh. “You here to remind me how much of a failure I am?” She snaps.
“How’d you know?” You ask, sarcastically.
She sits up straighter, defensively. “How’d I know?!” She repeats. “Because that’s all you ever do.” She says, harshly.
You want to defend yourself, but it’s useless. “What happened out there? Tell me.” You say.
Ellie’s head drops again. “I choked. Happy?”
You scoff. “Of course I’m not fucking happy.”
She closes her eyes, wishing she could disappear. “I got nervous by the third set. I couldn’t get my serve right. Something I’ve been practicing my entire goddamn life… Still fucked it up.” All the anger drains from her voice, replaced by embarrassment and shame.
“Do you actually want this? Do you even want to be a tennis player?” You ask. Your words cut deep, but you know she needs to hear them.
Ellie stands from the bench, her body language is tense and almost frightening. “What?!” She raises her voice at you. “You think I don’t want this?! I trained my ass off for MONTHS! Do you know how much of my life I’ve sacrificed for this?! Do you think I’d be here letting you insult me if I didn’t want this?!” She shouts, pointing a finger at you.
You stay calm and composed. “Do you want me?” You ask quietly.
Your question makes the anger drain out of her immediately, and she realizes how insane she looks yelling at you, pointing fingers like any of this is your fault. Her face softens, her arms drop to her side. “Yeah.” She sighs.
You take another step closer to her. “Say it like you mean it.”
Her voice is low, but firm. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.” She admits.
“Then prove it.”
Ellie almost wants to yell again, until it clicks in her brain that you truly have no ill intentions, and you’re pushing her to greatness, even if it hurts.
“Okay.” She says, nodding. “I will.”
“Will I see you at Wimbledon?” You ask, in a no-bullshit tone.
Ellie hesitates, knowing that will be the most difficult tournament of her career, if she even gets the chance to compete. “Yes.” She nods. “I won’t let you down.”
A satisfied smirk creeps up on your face, knowing you have her right where you want her. “Come here.” You demand, calling her over like a dog.
Ellie steps forward with no hesitation, waiting for whatever you’ll say next.
You put a gentle hand on her cheek. A comforting touch after her exhausting day. Her eyes close, she melts into it. Your lips meet hers, gently at first. She can feel the fireworks exploding in her stomach at the familiar taste of you. The kiss is risky, anyone could walk into the locker room, but the risk makes it even more exciting.
She pours a year of pent up emotions into that kiss. Her hands grab your waist, pulling your body flush against hers. She holds you tightly, steady, not wanting to let you out of her grasp. She’d keep you here all night if she could.
You pull back from the kiss, knowing this needs to stop before it turns into more. Her lips chase yours, like she can’t bring herself to let go.
“We can’t.” You whisper into her mouth. She knows it’s not personal, kissing in a public space is a terrible idea. Her fingers flex on your waist before she loosens her grip and pulls back.
“I’ll— I’ll see you in London.” You say, turning your back to leave before she can even properly say goodbye to you.
—
The first week at Wimbledon was ruthless. Every match was intense, absolutely no room for error. Ellie trained for this every single day after Paris. she fought hard on that court, making it to the third round, surprising herself with her endurance.
Not even you were immune to the chaos. This tournament is the best of the best, and you felt threatened by the skill of your competitors. Your doubt was already starting to creep in.
The day of the third round, you’re buzzing with anxiety. Or maybe it’s excitement, you can’t tell. You and Ellie were finally up against each other after years of anticipation. The cameras on you felt heavier than usual, the summer sun was suddenly too hot and suffocating. You knew no matter what, you couldn’t let her distract you. You had to win this.
There’s no friendly banter as you both walk out to the court, just loud silence and your heads down, ignoring each other. You keep yourself calm and focused, Ellie has a natural scowl on her face, one that’s always there when she’s ready to prove herself. The crowd is already murmuring, knowing there was something brewing between you both.
The match starts fast, aggressively. Ellie serves first, 120mph and coming at you so fast you almost freeze. You send it back to her with force, matching her intensity. There was no holding back now.
Each shot on that court was personal, everyone could tell, the fans, your coaches, the other players watching. This wasn’t even tennis anymore, this was a year of pent up frustration, feelings you can’t admit and two girls who really want this win for different reasons.
Your stomach twisted every time you made eye contact across the net. The playful, warm, flirty girl you knew was replaced by someone threatening, starting you down like a predator. Ellie always had a smirk on her face when she scored, this time it was an ice cold stare, sizing you up with every point. A look that proved to you she wasn’t here to mess around, she was here to win.
The tension thickened with every set. You won the first, she won the second, and this third set meant everything. Ellie’s first serve in the third set was weak. She’s known for this, letting her nerves get to her when it matters most. You send the ball back so fast she doesn’t even run for it, letting it fly past her.
“FOCUS!” You shout across the court. Half encouraging, half commanding, it felt like an insult to her, but if getting her angry is what it takes, you’ll do it.
Ellie rolls her eyes at you, despite secretly appreciating the push. The umpire gives you a code violation warning for shouting at her. You don’t regret it. She’s refocused and ready to play properly again.
The next few serves are merciless. She returned all of yours like she wanted to crush your confidence, because in that moment, she truly did. Every glance between you both was filled with pure venom. You have the crowd on the edge of their seats as you’re tied, next point takes it all. There was no telling who they were cheering for anymore, just two very loved pros giving it all they had. Neither of you had a grip on the match anymore, there was no telling who could win it.
You were both playing at your peak, but there was no gracefulness. You both look, and feel, completely wrecked. Sweat drips down your faces, breath ragged, like rivals going all out. There was no friendship anymore, no mercy, no smiles, no teasing smirks, just two girls exhausted.
Match point.
You practically blacked out as it happened. Ellie served, clean, fast, precise. You returned it with every ounce of strength in your body. The ball blazed across the court, perfectly angled to the corner, further than she could run for it in time.
Point. Game. Match.
There’s a moment of silence before the crowd erupts in applause for you. You barely react, just standing there, stunned.
Reality hits you hard: you just advanced in the biggest tournament in the world, but you took that chance away from Ellie. And fuck, it hurts.
You jogged across the court, reaching your arms out to her, practically crushing her in a hug. Ellie’s body stiffens in shock, because this wasn’t what she imagined after a month of silence and that ruthless game you just played. It takes a moment for her to relax and wrap her arms around you, pressing her face into your shoulder. There’s cameras flashing everywhere, thousands of people cheering, but in that moment it’s just you and her.
“I’m so sorry.” You say, just loud enough for her to hear. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” You repeat, before she can respond.
Her arms wrap around you tighter. All of Ellie’s anger and resentment melted, you could feel it under your fingertips. “Don’t be sorry. You’re amazing.” She mumbles into your skin.
You pull back enough for your eyes to meet. That pretty green stare disarms you every time. “That was brutal.” You say, smiling, still filled with adrenaline.
Her tired eyes crinkled in the corners as she met your gaze. “You’re telling me.” She laughs, softly.
—
Later that night, you’re showered and settled into bed, still giddy from the day. You’re hopelessly trying to catch some extra sleep, but you’re still feeling that adrenaline from your match with Ellie. Texting her has always felt off limits to you. You don’t even have her number after everything. You open Instagram, your notifications are flooded, but instead of checking them you search Ellie’s profile. You still don’t follow her, which you truthfully think is hilarious after all this time. You scroll through her photos, catching yourself smiling at your phone. Embarrassing. You quickly type out and send her a DM before you can talk yourself out of it.
Hey
Send.
Ellie replies faster than you anticipated.
I’ve been waiting for u to follow me back for like 3 years sooooo… when’s that gonna happen
You smile at her message.
Probably never
I rented a house and it’s pretty big and lonely
You coming? I’ll call you an uber
She replies before you can even swipe away from your messages.
Of course baby
The nickname made your heart skip a beat.
—
The second the front door clicked shut behind her, your lips were on Ellie’s. The kiss was hard and hungry, like all of that tension on court was saved for this one moment.
To your surprise, and hers, Ellie puts a hand on your chest, gently pushing you back, stopping the kiss. Not pushing you away, just… pausing.
“I haven’t even put my bag down.” She laughs, her tone is warm and soft and the complete opposite of the girl who wanted to crush your spirit a few hours prior.
You let out a shy laugh, embarrassed by her subtle rejection. “Sorry.” You whisper. Ellie could have melted on the spot at your sweet shyness. The same girl who was yelling at her across the net was suddenly shy and blushing in her hands.
Ellie drops her bag to the floor and kicks off her shoes. Her hands come up to your neck gently. She kisses your forehead, your cheek, your other cheek, your nose and then a soft press to your lips again, just a peck. “We don’t have to rush.” She whispers.
Your hands slide down her arms, before intertwining your fingers with hers. The touch shocks her, you’ve experienced so much intensity together, but never something as innocent as hand holding.
“Are you here to torture me?” You joke, squeezing her hands.
Ellie laughs, breathless and exasperated. “No. God, no.” She says, lifting your knuckles to her lips to kiss them. She knows her slow pace probably is torture for someone who likes things fast, but she’s waited too long to be alone with you again to rush through it.
You feel yourself start to melt at her gentle kisses on your knuckles. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me after today.” You whisper.
Ellie freezes. Her hands squeeze yours even tighter. You’re actually being vulnerable in front of her, worried about the aftermath of how intense that match was. Her kisses on your hands are even more tender now. “I could never hate you… Maybe I did for like… five seconds.” She laughs. “But honestly, I just missed you. I think I was so mad today because I missed you.”
You want to tell her that you missed her too, but the words won’t come out. “You played beautifully.” You say.
Ellie blushes, because your compliments are the highest form of praise. “I did it for you.” She whispers, leaning back in for another slow kiss. “For this.” She mumbles against your lips.
“Ellie.” You say, sternly, stopping the kiss.
“Hm?” She hums, her forehead pressed against yours.
You pause before speaking. “If you aren’t naked in my bed in the next thirty seconds I’m gonna get really pissed off.” You joke.
Ellie steps back, laughing, really laughing. “Oh yeah?” She teases, already pulling her hoodie over her head. “The girl who made me wait over a year to touch her again is suddenly pressed about thirty seconds?” She laughs, tossing her hoodie, reaching for yours next.
“Please.” You beg, letting her pull your sweatshirt over your head.
Ellie’s expression softens, she takes your hand in hers again. “Lead the way.”
She’s laid out on your bed, resting against the pillows, one knee bent, waiting. You crawl over her, kissing your way up her legs.
Ellie’s heart pounded as she watched you crawl up the bed, leaving soft kisses on her skin. Your patient worship felt like whiplash compared to how cold you’ve been towards her since Paris.
When your kisses trail up to her hips, you slowly pull down her shorts. She lifts her hips to help you. You push up her tank top up to kiss her toned stomach.
“What do you like?” You ask between kisses.
Ellie’s cheeks flushed, embarrassed to answer a question like that. No one has ever even asked her that before. “Uhh— slow. I like… being kissed and… hands.” She chokes out.
You look up at her red face with a smirk. “I can do that.” You say confidently. You kneel between her legs, grabbing at the hem of her tank top, lifting it over her head. She felt the need to cover up, but stopped herself.
You bring your lips back down to her chest, trailing soft kisses. Your lips ghost over one of her nipples, before taking it into your mouth. A small gasp escapes her. The sensation is warm and wet and feels way too good. Your tongue swirled slowly, applying just the right amount of pressure. You can feel her body start to shift under your touch. You lift a hand to trace soft, teasing circles on her other nipple, feeling it harden under your touch.
Ellie lets out an involuntary whimper, the feeling was somehow blissful and complete torture at the same time.
Her chest rose and fell faster now, her face still red, not from embarrassment but from arousal. Your teasing touch turns into a pinch, taking her sensitive nipple between your thumb and pointer finger, gently squeezing. Ellie inhales sharply at the touch, biting down on her lip to keep herself quiet.
You lift your mouth to speak. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear you.” You whisper. Your tone is calm and seductive. You weren’t just allowing it, you were encouraging it, and that drove her crazy in the best way.
You switch sides, bringing your lips onto her other nipple. She didn’t stifle her moan this time, she let it out, loud and clear, the sound was heaven to your ears.
“That’s it.” You praise. Your lips move lower, latching onto the skin of her breast, leaving a dark hickey, marking her. Ellie looks down at you, eyes half lidded and needy. She touches the wet mark with her fingertip, like she’s never seen anything like it before.
“Is that okay?” You whisper.
“So okay.” She responds, her voice a little dazed from all her pleasure.
Ellie reaches up and grabs you by the hair, pulling gently, but not enough to hurt. She brings your lips back up to hers in a possessive kiss.
This kiss is nothing like how she kissed you at the door. Her lips are eager as they move against yours, her tongue slips into your mouth, teeth biting at your lower lip, completely claiming you.
Your hand slides lower, lower, lower, under the waistband of her boxers. The second your fingers brush over the heat between her legs, she gasps, twitching under your touch.
“Shit, Ellie.” You mumble into the kiss. You don’t even have to say it. She’s soaked for you and you both know it. Your tone isn’t judgemental or teasing, you’re just in awe of how much your touch affected her, like her body has been begging for this.
“Don’t tease me.” She mumbles against your lips, embarrassed.
You smile before kissing her again. Your fingers move slowly through her folds, just feeling. “I’m not, I love it. I love this.” You say.
Ellie lets out a whimper and she doesn’t even know if it was from your words or your touch. Another choked sound comes out as your fingers graze over her clit. Ellie’s breath speeds up, she grabs onto your waist to ground herself.
Your lips move down to her neck as your fingers find her sweet spot, rubbing small, gentle circles.
With that one simple touch, all of her stress faded away. Paris, the time you rejected her kiss, the way she yelled at you in the locker room, every time she’s embarrassed herself on TV just trying to be a better player, the unspoken tension between you, the intensity of the match earlier that day, all gone.
“Oh God.” She moans, her head back on the pillows, eyes closed, body finally relaxed.
Her hips arch up into your touch, chasing more pressure. You know you’ve teased her long enough, your fingers press down a little bit harder, faster too.
“*Fuuuuckkk.” She whines, her hands grip your waist tighter.
“You like that?” You ask, still pressing soft kisses into her neck.
Ellie nods fast, breathlessly, having to force her words out. “Yes— please—“
You smirk at the sight of her falling apart in your hands. “Please what?” You tease.
“More.” She whines, her hips pressing up into your hand again.
“So needy.” You mumble into her skin, sliding your hand lower into her boxers. Without warning, you slowly push two fingers into her. Ellie groans with pleasure. “How is that?” You ask.
There was no resistance as your fingers started to slide in and out slowly.
“Fuck—“ Ellie cries out.
You pepper soft, feather-light kisses along her jaw, up to her cheek, her temples, over her ear. It’s a gentle contrast to how deep your fingers are curling inside her.
Your thumb presses down on her clit as your fingers continue to work. Ellie lets out a sob, her fingers flex on your waist. She’s feeling so much, you can’t even read her face anymore.
“Tell me how it feels.” You whisper in her ear, your hot breath adding another sensation.
Ellie’s eyes were shut tightly. “I— I can’t— good— it’s so good—“ She manages, her voice trembling.
You silence her whimpers by capturing her lips in a kiss again. She kisses you back messily, unable to keep up. Her body starts to tremble, you know she’s getting close.
You move your hand deeper, faster, knowing it’ll push her over the edge.
The tension in her body finally snaps.
Ellie cries out, a loud, shameless moan. Overwhelming pleasure crashes through her body. She squeezes her eyes shut tight as she trembles, her back lifting off the mattress.
You slow your hand down, kissing her just under her ear, letting her ride it out. A layer of sweat covers her body, her breath comes out in small pants, she collapses back down into the mattress.
Your hand slides out of her boxers, you place a shaky kiss on her cheek. “You okay?” You ask, softly.
Ellie’s eyes flutter open softly, she smiles sweetly. “Soooo good.”
You smile back and peck her lips with a quick kiss. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” You say. Ellie immediately feels cold and exposed at the loss of your warmth.
You return with clean hands and a warm washcloth. You stand at the edge of the bed, gently pulling down her boxers. Your lips part at the sight of her fully undressed for you.
“You’re staring.” She says, blushing.
Your eyes rake over her again. “You’re so pretty. Can’t believe I left these on the whole time.” You laugh, taking her underwear and throwing them across the room like it was personal.
You put a hand on her knee, opening her legs. You wipe between her thighs with the warm cloth, wanting to keep her clean and well taken care of. Ellie feels blissfully relaxed, surrounded by white sheets and fluffy pillows, lucky enough to be pampered by you.
“You’re still dressed.” She pouts, bottom lip jutting out. “Your turn now?” She offers.
You laugh. “I’m okay, really.” You say, shaking your head.
“Not fair.” She complains. “Your turn.”
Your smile gets even bigger as you turn around and rummage through your suitcase, tossing some clean clothes at her. “Can I be honest?” You ask.
Ellie nods. The energy in the room shifts as soon as you say it. She prepares herself for the worst.
You climb in bed beside her. “I’m really fucking tired and sore after trying to destroy your confidence on that court earlier.” You joke. “So… how about… in the morning?” You ask.
Ellie’s eyes light up, despite your dark joke. “I can stay?” She asks excitedly, pulling on the clothes you gave her to borrow.
You climb in bed and pull her in close, pressing your chest against her back, wrapping an arm around her. “Yeah. But don’t get used to it.” You say, kissing her shoulder through the t-shirt.
Ellie scoffs playfully. “You’re the worst… God, let me do something for you for once. Let me take you out, make you feel good, anything.”
“Where would you take me?” You ask, playfully.
Ellie doesn’t even hesitate. “Italy. Let’s go to Italy.”
“Italy?” You question.
She turns to face you in the bed. “Italy. I’ll rent us a villa in the countryside. We won’t talk about tennis. No phones either.” She smiles at the thought.
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh really?” You ask, digging for more information on this daydream.
“Our villa will have a big kitchen and a pool. You’ll wear the smallest bikinis you own for me. I’ll cook for you everyday. You’ll be my little Italian princess.” She says.
Your cheeks start to hurt from smiling. “You have this whole thing planned out, huh?”
Ellie continues. “We’ll take day trips into town, eat at little restaurants with those cute tables on the sidewalks. I’ll feed you pasta and kiss you in public every five minutes. We can go shopping, I’ll get you a new designer bag, maybe some shoes.” She has a ridiculous smile on her face to match yours.
“Will we drink wine?” You ask.
“So much of it. I’ll carry you to bed at night if you drink too much. And we’ll sleep in instead of getting up for 5AM drills. So what do you say?”
You exhale slowly, thinking. “It’s tempting.”
“Let’s go next week, after you win this tournament, because I know you will. We both deserve a break.” She pleads.
“Ellie— that’s crazy—“
“Crazy?” She repeats. “You know when I want something, I’ll do anything to get it.” She smiles, brushing your hair behind your ear gently.
You hold your breath for a moment, hesitating. “If I win this tournament we can go to Italy.”
Ellie’s mouth falls open. “If?!” She asks, shocked. “When.” She says, confident in your skills. “When you win next week, I’m booking us the first flight out to celebrate.”
You lean in to kiss her softly. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do it.”
Does anyone else have an obsession with streamer!Character x Reader fics? I know I do omg they are my guilty pleasure. I usually read Ellie ones or Kenma ones and it’s literally my favorite trope ever. The mysterious tension of the stream not knowing who the reading is but seeing their body and and asking for a face reveal. Whew 😭
Im in college right now and its nothing like the fanfics 💔. I haven’t found a hot nerdy blonde that wants to tutor me(Armin) or a masc lesbian that works on a project with me together and we slowly fall in love(Ellie). Hopefully it gets better with time 😫.
. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁˖ . ݁ 18+ | roommates!stsg jerking off to the thought of you (more roommates!stsg here)
“god, i'm so fucking horny,” satoru groans softly, manspreading on the sofa with his head tipped back, elbows leaning on the same edge.
suguru’s sitting next to him, scrolling on his phone before he shortly pauses, making sure he heard satoru correctly. he then looks up at his best friend, a somewhat disturbed look on his face.
“why are you telling me? go get laid or something.”
satoru lifts his head to look at suguru, too, almost incredulously. “i haven't touched any other girls since our cute roommate… it's a shame she went back to visit her family,” he sighs heavily, feeling a stir in his cock simply from the thought of you.
“are you in love with her now?” suguru asks teasingly, lifting a single brow in satoru's direction.
“what? no. fuck, i don't know, i'm too horny to think about it right now,” satoru huffs. “besides, don't think i didn't hear you in the shower earlier, moaning her name and shit. god, that's making me hard too,” he groans again, beginning to palm himself through his sweats, letting his eyes drift shut and picturing you.
imagining your hand wrapped around his cock, just as eager as him, stroking him at the perfect pace that he showed you he liked. imagining the way you'd spit on the tip and let it dribble down, easing the glide of your hand.
“fuck…” he whispers, so caught up in his fantasy, stroking his length through the thick fabric of his sweats.
but suguru's voice cuts through, snapping him out of his thoughts. “get a room, satoru,” he scowls. “you're a fucking freak, you know that?”
“yeah, yeah, tell me something new.”
satoru opens his eyes and looks over at suguru, his gaze skirting down to see the growing bulge in suguru's own pants. he smirks, blue eyes flicking back up to meet purple.
“i'm not the only freak here, huh?”
suguru rolls his eyes, making no move to relieve himself and trying to focus back on his phone. key word: trying.
neither of them has fucked you yet, but the hold you have on them is strong. their pretty roommate who’s as perverted as they are, fooling around together and going back to normal the next day. sharing heated looks, hungry eyes raking over each other’s bodies.
but, to their dismay, you went back home to see your family for the weekend. it’s barely been two days and they both already itch to be able to touch you again.
“at least i have the decency to jerk off in private.”
“unfortunately for me, that's true,” satoru sighs playfully. then, he laughs when suguru gives him another questioning look. “what? god forbid a guy appreciates a good view.”
and, oh, what a view it truly is.
while satoru was frantic and desperate as he fisted his cock, pulling ragged pants and deep moans from his chest, suguru took his time.
slowly pumping his thick cock, pulsing his palm around it gently, teasing his tip with his thumb where precum beads out. eliciting a shuddering breath out of him when he drags his thumb across the wet slit. the same way you’d run your tongue over it.
he focuses on the flustered head, tugging and squeezing, imagining the way you lather your tongue all over it and hollow your cheeks out. solely to ruin him.
“fuck, that's good,” he groans, voice hushed as if he's praising you while you’re right in front of him.
satoru's heady gaze keeps drifting over to suguru, watching suguru's pretty fingers wrapped tightly around himself. precum dribbling over his knuckles, the pretty vein on the underside throbbing with need, and of course, the ladder piercings that draw husky groans from suguru.
satoru spits onto his cock, using the glide of his hand to make it slick with his own saliva. a lewd, wet sound bounces off the walls of the living room, complementing each stroke of his fist over his aching cock.
“she has us fucking whipped,” satoru says, and a breathless laugh tumbles out. his head tips back against the sofa, frosty hair scattering.
he knows that what they’re doing is completely depraved. jerking off to their roommate who isn’t even there. but he can also guess that you probably miss them as much as they do - if there was anything that you all had in common, it was the perverse tendencies.
“haven’t even felt that sweet pussy-- oh, shit, shit… haven’t felt it wrapped around me and she still drives me insane,” satoru murmurs, voice strained with pleasure.
his abs tense as he feels himself getting closer, his dick twitching in his grip at the thought of your pussy clenching around him. he bucks his hips into his fist, desperate, fucking his own hand to the thought of you, wishing it could be yours. a moan slips out, uninhibited and needy.
suguru speeds up his strokes slightly, his breathing growing heavier. “it’s only been just over a day and this is the second time i’m jerking off because of her. fucking pathetic.”
satoru laughs again before a choked moan cuts him off, his hand almost a blur as he moves it up and down. his hips jerk violently, cock twitching eagerly like it wants to cum inside you. to make a mess of you, rather than his own palm.
with a few more furious strokes and moans that sound too similar to whimpers, satoru cums all over his stomach and hand. his body goes completely lax against the sofa, his stomach contracting with each pulse and rope of cum that his cock shoots out. he keeps his hand going until he’s finished and spent, left panting beside suguru.
he glances over to his best friend, noticing the angry red of suguru’s tip as he continues to jerk off, not having cum yet. suguru’s eyes are half-lidded, heavy with desire. he’s biting down on his lower lip, muffling the little sounds that are eager to make themselves heard.
satoru grins, sitting back up. “hey,” he says, “wanna cum in my mouth?”
suguru gives him a side glance. “you really are a freak.”
“well, i don’t hear you saying no, sugu. i know you love fucking our roomie’s mouth, makes me kinda jealous.”
“jealous of me, or her?” suguru already knows the answer; considering how his best friend is, he can guess which one it is.
satoru grins again, moving closer to suguru and ducking his head to take the head of his cock into his mouth. as soon as his lips close around it, suguru groans softly, eyes fluttering shut when satoru’s tongue flicks over his tip, tasting the saltiness of his precum before he takes his length deeper.
he sucks hard, eager to make him unravel. his tongue laps at suguru’s dick, dragging along a prominent vein as he takes it even further until it hits the back of his throat.
another beautiful groan falls from suguru’s mouth when he feels satoru’s throat constrict around his cock. “fucking-- i’m gonna cum, satoru,” he warns through rough, heaving breaths.
your snowy-haired roommate hums, a blissful vibration that triggers suguru’s orgasm. his tensing fingers thread through satoru’s hair, holding the back of his head as he releases strings of ivory into his eager mouth. his hips shoot up once involuntarily, making satoru choke but he keeps it there, swallowing every drop of cum that doesn’t leak out.
“fuck, i hate how good that felt,” suguru mutters, coming down from his high.
it’s only when his dick begins to soften that satoru pulls off, beaming like he just got one of his favourite sweets. suguru reaches out to swipe his thumb over satoru’s chin, cleaning his cum off it and he presses it against satoru’s lips which automatically open to lick it up.
“don’t lie, we’ve done worse and you love it.”
a smirk tugs at suguru’s lips. they have done worse and you have no clue. it’s cute watching you get flustered and turned on simply watching them kiss. he wonders how you’d react if they did anything more in front of you.
a/n: the ending definitely isn’t hinting at the next fic i have in mind hehehe
𝜗𝜚 he really, really likes your hips… and it goes both ways.
a/n: credit for this idea goes to @lipstainedgemini , because her boyslut Megumi posts have CONSUMED my feed lately and I needed to write something where he’s a littleeeee bit sluttier than usual
more like this
ೃ࿔*:･
Boyfriend!Megumi, who would never admit it to anybody, but gosh does he love your hips.
Boyfriend!Megumi, who loves the way he can grip them in any position, fingers digging into the skin and leaving purple marks he’ll kiss over later; he adores the way they roll when you’re on top and buck when you’re below, the way they jitter into his waiting hands.
Boyfriend!Megumi, who harbours a secret desire for watching the way his cum pools on your stomach and dribbles down onto your hipbones, who’ll clean you up with his mouth afterwards, moaning into your skin even without any stimulation to his cock.
Boyfriend!Megumi, who has to leave the room and breathe slowly just to regain control of himself everytime you wear something that sits low on your waist, who has to stop himself from getting flustered at the thought of holding onto you as you ride him into oblivion.
Boyfriend!Megumi, who sees you walk past in low-rise sweatpants and a skimpy tank top one day, then has to physically excuse himself to take a cold shower and moan oh so sluttily into the back of his hand as he cums.
You, who’d never admit it to anybody, but gosh do you love his hips, too.
You, who takes particular pleasure in holding down his pelvis with your own, grinning into his throat as he jerks up into your soft cunt; the sounds are saccharine, but nothing compared to the whines clawing their way out of his body, wrapping around your eardrums and thrumming.
You, who has to clench your thighs together when he fucks your fist, hips bucking pathetically with soft schlicking noises into your hand as whimpers slip their way past his pursed lips. He’ll breathe out your name between voice cracks, responding to the way you coo out a soft “Megs…” when he moans.
You, who dotes on seeing the way his happy trail soaks with your glistening slick, post-orgasm afterglow in dim lighting revealing streaks of dew that line the skin on his pelvis.
You, who could moan at just the sight of him- stretching above his head, hoodie riding up justtttttt enough to reveal a sliver of hair, nestled right between his hips.
Boyfriend!Megumi, who knows you have a thing for his hips, and lets you indulge anyway because- let’s face it- he’s a total slut for you.
Why did I just see this post on tik tok.. Did we watch the same show where he had “anxiety about loosing el” in season three the whole season is just about them breaking up and being a toxic couple. Where was the anxiety when she said " I dump your a**" and he didn't run after her but ran after his "best friend". Hmmmm
♥︎ ݁ 𓏲 eating sushi off of nanami's yummy and super duper buff bicep ─ inspired by this tiktok
you really weren’t trying to be a menace. you were just hungry. and a little tipsy. and nanami was sitting across from you on the living room floor—legs stretched out, gray sweats hanging low, sleeves pushed up over his elbows as he peeled back the lid from a mountain of sushi like he was about to give a lecture on it. the overhead lights were low. a candle burned faintly on the table, flickering warm across the slope of his neck and jaw.
he’d just come back from the gym, showered, soft, golden. smelled like cedarwood and clean skin. and his biceps looked insane. like coiled steel under baby soft skin, the muscle bulging a little even when he moved casually—reaching for soy sauce, shaking his wrist out, using chopsticks with the same kind of precision he applied to every goddamn thing he touched.
it wasn’t your fault your eyes kept drifting. you tried to play it off at first. maybe he wouldn’t notice. maybe you weren’t that obvious.
“you’re staring,” he said flatly.
“i’m not.”
his brow arched. he didn’t look up from the salmon roll he was slicing with his chopsticks.
“what,” you said, half laughing, “i’m not allowed to admire your post-pump vascularity in peace?”
he huffed—quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “you’re lucky i like you.”
“oh, i know.”
he reached for the ginger. and that’s when you blurted it out.
“i wanna eat sushi off your arm.”
he paused. looked up. blinked once. “what?”
“just like, one piece,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “it’s for science.”
“it’s for insanity.”
you shrugged, smirking. “same difference.”
there was a beat of silence. then, to your surprise, he shifted—shoulders squaring back, one arm bending so his bicep swelled high and hard. he turned slightly toward you, sleeve bunching at his shoulder. golden skin, curved muscle, veins sharp beneath the surface.
“you have thirty seconds,” he muttered.
you nearly squealed, carefully, you plucked a spider roll from the tray and placed it right in the dip of the muscle, where his bicep crested into the valley of his inner arm. he stared straight ahead, jaw tight, chest rising once.
and then you leaned in. your lips brushed his skin as you took the roll with your mouth, warm rice and soy-slick fish pressed against his body, and when your tongue accidentally grazed him, just a little, he shifted under you, legs spreading slightly on instinct. you sat back on your heels, chewing slowly, gaze locked on his.
“you done?” he asked, voice lower now.
“maybe,” you said. “depends if you’re offering refills.”
he didn’t answer at first. just watched you, heat simmering in his expression, chest rising with every breath. then he reached for another roll, but instead of handing it to you, or placing it on his arm, he set it lower. directly on the flat plane of his lower stomach, right above the waistband of his sweats—dead center and met your eyes.
Husband!Armin attempting to do no nut november after you told him that he wouldn’t last a day.
Husband!Armin who starts noticing how you are changing the way that you dress around the house with only his overly large hoodies and your underwear that he bought you that matches his bright blue eye color.
Husband!Armin who tries to hold himself back when you purposely bend over for him to see how your thick folds are just barely being kept in the underwear.
Husband!Armin who rants to Eren on the phone and keeps talking about how he doesn’t know how much longer he can last with all your teasing.
Husband!Armin that almost fucks you in the car when he sees you come out the house with your cute micro skirt and a white sweater. He can’t take it anymore and puts his hand in between your thick thighs while driving. His fingers keeps skimming the top of your underwear.
Husband!Armin who could feel when you got nervous. Your thighs started clenching around his hand while your breathing got heavier. You put your hand in front of your face to hide your giddy smile.
Husband!Armin who is so ready for this month to just be over so he can cream inside of you and lick it up like the good boy he is.
Megumi was a thigh man, he’d never admit it but he was.
God when you wore those soft grey yoga pants with the slight flare at the end, he’d go crazy. Hands on your waist trailing down to your ass before holding onto your hips, mouth to your neck, and whispers to your ears.
“You’re so beautiful.” You smile and shake him off you a bit, “Megumi get off we have to get going before we’re late.”
“Let’s be late then, brunch can wait but I can’t.” He grumbled his fingers drawing circles on your hips while his hips dig into your ass feeling him slightly turned on. “God your needy today.” You laugh. “What happend to my little nonchalant man.”
“You ruined it nevermind, let’s go.”
You burst into louder giggle as you clutched your purse, “cmon I was just kidding.”
“Nope let’s go.” He said grabbing your keys from your hand and holding open the door for you.
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