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*･｡ﾟ info, rules & about me. *･｡ﾟ
about me.
hi there, you can call me eve!
i’m 21. gray-ace. she/her. i’m also a huge fan of tlou — among other fandoms. kinda new to tumblr i guess ?? i’m still learning
info.
this blog is dedicated to ellie williams & therefore will only contain fics pertaining to her.
i’m always down to take requests but just keep that in mind. and some of my works aren’t sfw so when it comes to that, mdni. otherwise,, have fun!
personal favs.
heavy on fwb !!! also friends to lovers, mean!ellie, loser!ellie, and angst (to an extent.)
my rules.
do NOT copy or repost my works anywhere! i take the time and effort to make content for you guys to enjoy — please respect that so i can continue doing so.
i currently only write for ellie. i personally do not and will not write manipulation, cheating, or abuse/domestic violence !!
last but not least, be kind. i understand that my works won’t be for everyone. i will always have warnings up, so if you see something you dislike — just scroll. there’s tons of stuff out there that might better appease you!
(nsfw minors dni — warnings: being ellie’s friend w benefits !! kissing, groping, swapping saliva/food, aftercare)
fwb!ellie, who was always a flirt around you, but became increasingly aware of her chances of hooking up with you once you began to reciprocate.
fwb!ellie was caught off guard the first time you flirted back, and didn’t quite know what to say, so she just stood there like a fucking idiot instead.
surely you didn’t mean it, right? it wasn’t like you.
but fwb!ellie found out that you very much did mean it, and you were playing the game right along with her. safe to say… your friendship dynamic changed from that day forward.
fwb!ellie shares snacks with you like it’s nothing. swaps gum and candy between your mouths, as if it’s second nature. occasionally leads to sloppy make-out sessions.
fwb!ellie never gives good advice on what you should wear… she’s too busy imagining what you look like under your clothes.
on that note, fwb!ellie can’t keep her eyes off you. within the friend group, she’s always staring at you, a subtle nod to the mutual desire you shared. she makes it quite hard to act normal under her gaze.
fwb!ellie loves to sleepover. she also loves taking showers with you, bc she gets to feel up on you while claiming she’s just “soaping you up.”
sometimes it feels like when fwb!ellie flirts, it comes out of left field. she’ll come up behind you, pressing her crotch against your ass, whispering how badly she needs you.
“feels like forever since we’ve fucked, hm? know you want it, too.”
“c’mon… just 5 minutes, yeah? for me?”
fwb!ellie is dominant in bed. she initiates 99% of the time, and almost always ends up on top of you. super affectionate when it comes to you. will constantly tell you you’re her favorite fuck.
but fwb!ellie is still big on aftercare — before you were fuck buddies, you were friends first. no matter what, she’s always gonna make sure you’re taken care of.
ellie loves tribbing btw. skin to skin. she loves feeling ur wet, soft, burning flesh on hers. she craves it, she craves u
ur laid out on ur shared bed, ur legs spread as she’s rutting against u, her sticky fluffy bush tickling ur tummy
she’s so pretty above u <3 her auburnette hair messy, sticking to her flushed freckled face, she’s grunting as her clit kisses urs
she’s babbling on about how she needs u closer “c’mere” “m-more baby” but her voice gets all breathy when she looks down at ur blissed out face :( “ur s’ohh pret-tyhuhh”
when she grabs ur jaw to pull u up into a messy kiss, ur pulsing clit hits hers just right, “mm’uuhhh fuuuck” she groans, all long n drawn out. she’s moaning into ur mouth as ur tongues swirl together
u both cum at the same time (duh bc ur in love) and ellie just falls on top of u. ur hot, sweaty bodies melting together <3
cw: reader mentions she is an english lit major if u don’t like it imagine she said it was the major of your choice, reader doesn’t like boys, flirty friendship but no relationship, probs will be a part 2, a/n at the bottom
“Before you speak don’t move ‘cause i don’t wanna wakeup”
The bright light was making it hard to keep your eyes open, not a single cloud in sight. It was a beautiful place, there was no denying that. Spring had always been your favorite season: leafy trees, blooming flowers, green grass and sunny days. If spring was a place, this would be it.
You decided to explore it, feeling the soft breeze on your skin. There was a big meadow, with a beautiful forest next to it. The bushy green trees complimenting the flowery field. There was something about this place that was so peaceful. Like you were the only person in the world and everything worked for you, rather than against you.
It would be a shame to leave so soon, so you take a seat in between the flowers and take everything in. How could a place so beautiful exist?
Your tranquil state is quickly interrupted by the sound of the grass and dirt being step on. You turn your head to see who the culprit is: a freckley auburnette with big green eyes and, for lack of a better adjective, an angelic face. You were prepared to snap at whoever had taken the sweet blissful state away from you, but after seeing her there was no way.
She doesn’t say a word. She sits next to you. You’d usually not even consider just letting a random stranger make their way to you and sit next to you but this felt different. Saying that you had never met this girl before was an understatement, yet it felt like seeing an old friend. Her presence was warm and pleasant, you felt safe.
“If you are interrupting my moment shouldn’t i at least know your name?” you ask her with a playful grin.
“Fair enough. I’m Ellie.” She chuckles.
You tell her your name and she nods in acknowledgement.
“We haven’t met, have we?” you inquire.
“Not that I’m aware, but it-”
“It feels like it,” you complete her sentence before she can, earning a smile from her.
“Well, I’ve never seen you around here. Think I’d remember a pretty face like yours,” she says will a smirk on her face. You scoff in response, finding her antics amusing, your cheeks definitely a rosy color now.
“It’s my first time here,” you explain.
“Hmm, when you’d get here?”
“What?” You ask with a puzzled face. And suddenly you realize you can’t remember how long you’d been here, let alone how you got here.
Before she can even answer your question you wake up by the obnoxious sound of your alarm.
7:00am
The dream was uneventful, to say the least, but there’s something about it that makes you think about it over and over again throughout the day. It was one of those dreams that bring you unexplainable comfort, like a tender embrace, like feeling like a kid again, like feeling some sense of home in there.
And, well, of course there was Ellie. You kept trying to think if you’d seen her before. Her face plagued your thoughts the most. You’d never seen anyone like her, you’d never met anyone like her.
Something about her made you feel like you could spend hours and hours with her and still crave her company. It was ridiculous, you’d spend time how long with her? Fifteen minutes? And yet, you’d never felt that way with anyone before.
Alas, it was a dream. Just a dream. She was just a beautiful entity your psyche had created. Maybe your brain knew it’s what you craved and was cruel enough to give it to you in the dream realm, only to get it taken away.
You realized it was useless to dwell on your dreams, so you ended up putting the thought of Ellie aside and continuing your day.
That was, until nighttime.
The warm ambience surrounded you once again and before you could take it all in, you heard that raspy voice that had been echoing in your mind all day.
“You left yesterday,” she said.
“Had to go to school.” You giggle at her frowny face. She rolled her eyes at you.
“Yeah well, I didn’t get to ask anything about you.” And damn her flirty tone because it made you weak in the knees.
“What do you wanna know?”
“Just tell me about you.” She shrugged.
“Well, I’m 21, I’m in college, I like cats, reading, animals in general, I like the color green and…I’m pretty boring, don’t have much more to tell you.” You chuckle.
“I like green too.”
“Really? That’s your take on what i said?” You laugh.
“What was I supposed to say?” She protests with a laugh.
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes at her now. “What about you?”
“Well, I’m 22, I’m also in college, I like space, science, comics,” she tells you, not really sure what else to add on to the list.
“Space?”
“Yeah, like, planets and stars and Nasa and shit.”
“Nice, is that your major?” you inquire further.
“Yeah, astrophysics..”
“Just how smart are you?” You ask. Frankly, surprised by the girl.
“Shut up.” She laughs. “What about you?”
“English Lit.” You explain.
“Suits you.”
“Is that good?”
“Yeah, it’s good.” She responds with that cocky smile that you have grown to love in a couple minutes.
She had a sort of charm you hadn’t really seen elsewhere. It was quite boyish and youthful. She had you a little mesmerized. It was quite stupid, considering you barely knew her, but it was true.
“Do you-” and before she could finish her question, you were once again sucked out of your dream.
You groan in annoyance. Annoyed from being woken up, but mostly by the cold morning air reminding you once again that she wasn’t real.
Your brain was creative, you’d give it that. Astrophysics is something you didn’t even know you could come up with.
You do the whole thing again. Get up, brush your teeth, go to school, try to pay attention to school even when you all could think of were Ellie’s freckles and her peachy lips and her pretty dark lashes and the way she had a bun this time, rather than the half-up half-down hairstyle she had last time. Also, about the fact that she was going to ask you something. What was she going to ask you? You could only hope you’d be blessed tonight once more and be able to dream of her.
And so as the sun came down you prepared yourself to go to sleep.
“Please let me dream of her,” you thought to yourself. Pleading your subconscious.
You don’t know when you finally fell asleep, but you were once again in the forest you had began to grow fond of.
“You have a tendency of leaving mid conversation.”
There she was.
You turned to face her, “I don’t really control it, you know?” You laugh.
“Yeah yeah, whatever.”
“What were you going to ask me yesterday?” You ask as you softly kick her foot with yours, an affectionate gesture.
She looks down at your feet, pleased by it. Did the smirk ever leave her face or was it permanently there?
“I was asking if you have a boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? Ew no.”
She laughs at your frowned eyebrows and your disgusted face.
“So you like girls?”
“Why? Are you gonna ask me out?”
You’d later cringe at your own question once awake. How on earth was she supposed to take you out?
“Maybe.” She said nonchalantly.
“Right. Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Not to worry, all yours.” She winked at you.
“You are kind of cocky, do you know that?”
“Oh, come on, you like it.”
“Do I, now?” You ask with an incredulous chortle.
“I mean, you do blush every time, so I’d say so.” She shrugged.
You could immediately feel your cheeks heating up. How could a girl make you lose your composure so easily.
“You are so annoying,” you said, to which she just laughed.
-
Night became favorite time of the day from then on. All you did was repeat the cycle everyday: wakeup irritated, hope your day passed as quick as possible (not without reminiscing of your dream all day long), and go to sleep in hopes of dreaming of her again. And again. And again. Which, to your surprise, you did. Every single night you dreamt of her.
Somehow your dreams went from feeling like minutes with Ellie, to feeling like a hours. In which you talked about everything.
She was the most fascinating person you’d ever encountered. She was smart as hell, funny, kind and of course, had that little cockiness that never really left her side. Which -she was right- you did really like.
Your dreams had always been quite vivid, but you had never appreciated it until now. You were able to really examine her face, hear her voice clearly, see the detail on her tattoo. You’d feel her hand against yours when you walked around the place, or her hair on your fingers as you raked them through her hair when she’d lied on your lap. Nonetheless, it was always accompanied by that soft and warm glow that came with the dream. You could only imagine how much more you’d cherish it all in real life.
And that was the problem. You were completely and absolutely enamored by a girl in a dream. A girl that didn’t even exist. But how could you go on with your life knowing you’d never find anyone like her, knowing the perfect girl for you was nowhere to be found?
Life started seeming unappealing to you. Taking class, hanging out with friends, going out. None of it made sense. All you could think of all day long was the night. Every single hour you spend awake seemed like one more hour of you and Ellie being apart. It was eating you alive and you were allowing it.
-
As dusk arrived you went straight to bed and let yourself fall into a deep slumber.
Your favorite girl was there, waiting for you. You went to hug her. Ellie hugged you back, allowing herself to relax into your arms.
“Missed you,” you whispered.
“You say that everyday,” she chuckled.
“I miss you everyday,” you giggled in response.
She took your hand and the two of you began your stroll. Admiring the trees, the lustrous pond, the flowers. It never got old.
Today you were telling Ellie about school. You mentioned how you’d lost interest lately, not really bothering enough to commit to your studies as you used to.
“Why’s that?” She asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t really care about much lately. Not school, not my friends, not reading.” It mildly concerned Ellie, but she didn’t say anything.
“You must care about something,” she said as she nudged your shoulder.
“I care about being here with you.” You shrugged.
“Yeah, but, something else.” She insisted.
You shook your head. You didn’t want to lie to Ellie. She was the one person you could talk to. And the truth was that she was the only thing to seem worthy of your attention as of late. “I just wanna be here with you all the time.”
“It doesn’t work like that, doll,” she cooed as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
You felt a tear trail down your cheek, one that Ellie was quick to gently wipe off with her thumb.
She held you for the rest of your time together.
The next morning you slowly opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the change in lightening. You didn’t feel vexed like every other day. You had a tight knot on your chest that you couldn’t explain. A fast-growing affliction that wasn’t usually there.
After that night, you never dreamed of Ellie again.
-
It had been three months since you had last seen her. The first few weeks were pure agony.
There was a lot of crying and screaming involved. You were confused and angry and miserable. There was no way to fix it and you didn’t even know what you were feeling.
There was no one you could talk to either. What were you supposed to say? That you fell for someone in a dream and now you couldn’t deal with the fact that your brain wouldn’t let you dream of her anymore?
You kept going to sleep every night hopeful of seeing her again, but it was completely useless. You eventually gave up, realizing it wasn’t going to happen.
You were forced to resume your life. You focused yourself on studying, hanging out with your friends, going back to your beloved books. Everything was starting to go back to normal. And yet, there was not a single day where you didn’t think of her.
You were headed to your favorite café. Wanting to get some studying done and leaving your apartment for a little bit. As you finally arrived, you settled on your favorite table, put your headphones on and got to work.
Truthfully, your table was a mess. Your computer open, books everywhere and sticky notes all over the place. But it helped you get the work done and that’s what mattered most.
After a couple hours you decided to pack everything up and make your way back home, sleep finally sneaking its way up to you.
As you were walking out the door you heard steps hot on your trail.
“Hey, you left this.”
Your turned around to see who the familiar voice belonged to. She was handing you a notebook, one you must’ve missed in the midst of your mess.
As you moved your eyes up to thank the kind stranger, you were met with those two piercing eyes that hadn’t been able to leave your mind. The short haired girl with auburn hair, freckles and button nose was standing right in front of you, in the flesh.
It was Ellie.
-
a/n: i don’t know how to feel about this but i AM very proud of the concept <3 might make a part 2 depending on how this does and if i feel like it. 100% inspired by r.e.m. by ari. also video thingy 100% inspired by @ijtaime because she puts those on her fics and i think it’s adorable
dt #1 bff and r.e.m. stan @aloofdaughter (she put a gun to my head)🩷
tonguefucking raw in the barn, away from dina's eyes ౨ৎ
. part two 𝜗𝜚
❛you had cunt on your mind, 'n cum on your breath❜
PREVIOUS CHAPTER . NEXT CHAPTER >
.ᐟ ♡. summary; a chore so innocent and prosaic, far from featherbedding and near to plucking grain from your scalp– turns for the worst, or the best? i soundly connote, fornication ventured on two bends of eager knees, drinking you from beneath the hood 𐙚
.ᐟ ♡. cw; depictions of infidelity, homewrecking, semi-risky sex, jealousy, bit angsty, tension, guilt, pining, tears are shed, playing around, lusting, clit stim (r, fingers and oral), fingering (r), pussy eating (r), scant nipple stim (r), ass groping, ass slapping, breast groping, swallowing slick, pussy slapping, steamy make-out buildup, dirty talk, needy ellie, smug ellie as usual, dom!ellie, sub!reader (i swear sub!ellie is coming next chapter) domestic acts, bold text is flashback dialogue, petnames; babe, baby, good girl (lmk if i missed anything)
.ᐟ ♡. pairing; farm!ellie x farmhand!reader
.ᐟ ♡. a/n; ending feels a little lazy but it is what it is. hey i'll pull through on ss3 that's like the smut crux, if u get my jizzst..
✵ masterlist ✵ series masterlist ✵ got too lazy 2 proofread right away ✵ WC; 9.8k+
VOLUME TWO - The skin that flakes/ Under the hood
𝄞
Indulgences have the gall to peck at you.
Pecky and prickly as the oncoming hens do, handwriting–on–the–wall misgivings that throttle you off a steady minute by minute track. Small nuances under light of sun kept doing so this week, numerous things apropos of bawdy suggestions wisped by that reckless pink snake of hers– always mere footsteps from running into Dina, ‘I think it would be, really, reaaally hot if you didn’t wear your p-panties at the table, tonight..’ always brain–caked in a bit of alcohol, hiccuping. Or, even when a cold cuff cocoons the hind of your upper–thigh, an inch below the crease of your butt and done as she passes like a ghost behind you in the kitchen.
A plum bruise should have formed from how often you flicked that forehead of hers. But no, of course no. The only thing that formed each time was a cocky curl into her lips, corkscrewing those fine hazel freckles connate to a whirlpool in water.
Owing to the fact that she lacked sufficient care from you, has her pouting when you deny her. Denied her of that fiendish wish to lie beside each other– even if it be upon that packed sofa, or– of her vehement dreams, reposing within sniffing distance of an ambery lit fireplace, running her work–worn fingertips along your hill of chest, letting the beat beneath your breast verse in her hands a tale to beckon her own in accordance, toasting aflutter with love. She would push a kind pressure to said breast, emboss prints to squishy skin, mold it to her liking, and smirk when your nipple erects and bends under her hardy palm.
On the other hand, woe of denial, she sought Dina in your figment. When she wasn't courting twisted fingers up your billowing skirt, she instead smelt her heart in twisting her from the inside out, which– even more woefully, gave Dina the impression that Ellie had come crawling back on starved knees. Woe is her, to misreckon and take what she thought was hers to safekeep.
Arteries, wrenched and awreck, you felt a toy in contrast to what really stood. Worry.
Worries are the hens, pecking at you.
Will Dina catch you two here? Over there? This night, or the inbound day? Tines of time aren't obligated to tell, ringing of peril whenever they yen a sign to sow.
Thoughts would only continue to foment come light of day.
A lemony sun has risen beyond the hill laden skyline, plucking rays for your wake. Muted orange tones mingle and caper into flaming reds on the crest of your sealed eyelids, caught just as you bid adieu to your cotton sogged dream. For dreams die, at every crossroad.
“Mhh..” the gentlest brush of breath hinders sun washed quietude split, and a set of toes curving down to a stretch. Achy aches ache, as there’s enough ache to go around for farm hands such as you, ugh right?
Disturbing be the sunlight drawing blinding rays on your bleary pupils, attempting to shade out familiar nooks of your room. Ah, there we go, hues of sable dark in unvisited corners and shyly crowding the light, fluid out of the clear glass pane. As the couch is situated opposite of this blaring window, it greets you quite rudely.
The moment colors begin to mature and petrify within your vision, you're already hiking up a foot and rocking your bottom off the quaint sofa, veering a peek to the indent left. Slept like a log, huh? Feet plant weight on plods carrying you towards the wardrobe, grantingly aside the wide pearl–border window, flitting a forearm up to block incoming light.
A huff bloats your cheeks and pouts ducky lips, then grumbling a burden off your shoulders, “Hhhmmmm..” no truer words were spoken.
You lodge fingers in oaken crevices and pull a sundry of drawers from their frame, rubbing cotton on wool as you dig without aim on what you may don, this or that, with which and what, where and when. Blah, yawn, bored, you avert your gaze on lucent glass and scrutinize a pine bough panorama– only for your eyes to spring and espy a sparkle.
A gleam of skin.
And a tuft of copper.
Ellie.
Her torso fit in a white ribbed tank, soaked in hues of gray at the dip cut collar, and handsomely clung to her perky breasts. An arm raises, a graceful length likeness of a canopy above her head, stretching freckled flesh over toned muscles, the grooves– shadowed in a whisper of brown, highlighted celestially, and exposing a small auburn bush beneath her pit. A seen groan escapes her slit gob, brows hefty– she crumples them dear into her eye sockets, ruching the thin skin. Exertion tapered her body akin to clay, and it was undeniably hot, scrunching her face up like that. Ellie then juts her hips forward and casts her head rearward as she stretches, releasing all tension in a swing of her arms down.
Seems like she's tending to the fore yards.
Dew gleams honey, sweat paints skin, and portrays your girls as a ruddy rose in dashing spring. Ruddy, yeah, that solar ball in the sky sure made her skin popping arid of paleness. Naturally, her freckles betone like pepper, bulging on her red face– which scrunches in her gripe of stress.
Her lips part, mouthing an obvious, ‘Fucking hell.’ and baring teeth after, slightly. Lashes interwoven, her eyes stayed squinted, only to widen and dart when a muffled shout rattles the walls.
Right, fuck, Dina needs me.
Just as the drizzly auburn–head jogs from a peeking view and presumably into the house, you reverse and capsize through stacks of cloth until you land your choice– a sundress. Hey, it's hot today, let your butt breathe for a change. You dangle it by the thin straps prior to pleating up the skirt and slinking it over your crown, yanking every seam in place. Ruffles hit a stonecast above your knee, a sensible length.
But one question stands unturned.
Bra, or no bra?
Hmm.
No bra.
A proper chest of cotton cradles your breasts come rain or shine, not like Dina would mind with brine, nor judge off the heart– just freeing the girls. No biggie. The woven material lollops to a fare–thee–well, cozy on the curve, ribbing as it falls in place. Now, you just need something on your feet. Striding forth, waxing a gale, bare steps soften on each oak board's scant gap, sylvan grain texture grazing your toes. Just a few feet ayond the couch is your shoe cubby, small box frames home to varied work boots and scuffed sneakers, and based on today, you choose boots, clasping the hardy backstays in a pinch. You crouch and gripe at the sore sting your knees gave, manning it through and sliding foot by foot plumb to the squishy sole of your boots, tying up the cordy laces.
Guh, these boots are near rugged.
Ignoring the plain–in–sight fray to your boots’ hemp laces, you grasp and wrench the icy knob ‘round till the door grinds a cry open. Stepping under the arch, you brisk thump by thump and cut where the hallway bends, advancing the dining table.
A dyad of ears harks your growing din of solid steps, calling, “There you are, did'ja sleep like a log?” mellifluous notes of Dina's cadence carries, veering your sight on the kitchen– where she be, perching an oaken honeycomb rack to forearm.
That I did.
“Yuup–” you pirouette, spanning the table's border and hiking that very ridge plane into your butt, sighing, “sun was there to greet me, obnoxiously.” leaning into the table, you grouse lightheardedly.
“Oh shit– sorry ‘bout that, swear I'll put up a–”
“Don't worry, it's the one thing that actually wakes me up these days,” you crack a quip, chuckling with an open mouth.
Dina caters a kind tug on her mauve lips prior to whisking her eyes returned, a glossy honey to be. Syrupy knuckles press and crinkle in the hilt of a honey fork, pruning waxy slices and welling gold bubbles, crafting a drippy stream that canals into a glass bowl. Through laden light it gains a gilded life, casting a tiny star on the moist blob– and there you witness, nectar of the gods.
Capricious minds might have swiped a dollop of that sweet, sweet delicacy by now.
Weighing the silence, you tempt thoughts racing around your skull. What chore am I assigned today? Where is the cacophony of babbles and gurgles that follow Dina like a haunting spirit? Where did Ellie go? Ellie, Ellie, Els.
God did she look breathtaking in that tight–
A rush of thuds divert your curious eyes to the creaking stairs, preluding the swell of said babbles and a husky voice, Ellie's voice.
“Dina?” hailed she, echoing halfway down the steps, “I changed his diaper!”
Dina cocks her head in heed, crowing back, “Okay! Just– give ‘im to her!” tone knocking against the hollowed walls, then, she sheers attention to you, “mind feeding him?”
You hum a keen, “Mhm.” void of second qualms and wait on that certain honey–head to appear, hearing the increments of footsteps draw lower and nearer.
The honeylike cowl, stria of fawn auburn drapes soft strands to laze with a purpose on her neck, fashioning that scruffy mullet eyes prize after. Honeykin defines the head that tags after gray, deadbeat converse hop the last few steps and plant still on the oaken floor. For a honey so sinful sought you, and buys a bite of time, to stare.
Her liven pasture eyes catch on you, just a moment, and skip away, reminded of what she intends, “Uh, here.” her forearms unfurl and slink to you, offering JJ up in thankful arms.
You rub in bare flesh to hers, scooping the gurgly baby in a shyer than thankful human cradle, foreheads feckly bumping into each other as you swap, a ghosting of heads. A whaff of her work–spent scent digs into your brain, and you had to admit, it was a tinge sort of lovely. She had the farmyard tang about her, blessed with sweat, a firming physique, a stare that caught you a corpus melting in her esse.
Fairer than the weeks before her touching of you, the bounty it procured was tame, fair is the present. Fairest days, faring a harvest more splendid than dreams carping yonder ebony skies and heavy heads. An unruffled weightlessness many souls find hopes fed in, you found aplenty of in the waking world. With Ellie, you drank laughs, fiddled about the haystacks, snuck apples in your fist– nicking dewey chunks down her gullet in shared kisses, or let her shamelessly tug some of your ass meat in horny hands. Oh, isn't infidelity just the niftiest drug.
Smitten as a kitten, you are.
Carpe diem.
“You’ sleep well?” asked Els in monotone, pitching a paw up to weave through her jumbled locks, splitting strands.
Heaving a breeze, you sigh, “Decent enough, you?” and counter the question, bobbing your stance on bending knees– pray that baby doesn't scream, as always.
“Like a baby,” she asserts, lush of a brag, dropping her hand and poking at the chubby–cheeked fella, who just got a free mention, “not so much this one, yeahh? Did you scream my ear off all night?” cooing.
“Mhm, heard that.” you add.
“Betcha did.”
“Hmm.”
Her eyes peek up, and goddess, it's that look again. Oh yes, the very gaze spilt upon the oaken table that hale spring day, a twinning star. These eyes, ladies and gentle–non–mens’, fondled a plight of husky play sat on the edge of her mucky mind, and it showed vividly in those flourishing pupils that thin her pine–lined eyes. Tilted smirk dotting dimples in her big appley cheeks, cuspid teeth goring a dint in chapped lips crying with dire need of moisture. Sexy– minus the lips maybe.
She knows what effect that look has.
What exactly sits vanward of that hormone tipsy mind, is an excerpt best served in the formula of two tongues tied– for even Ellie herself may strive to compose hunger incarnate at this fledgling hour of daybreak. And yet she cannot. The mere thought of your pussy clots her brain cells. So, how do we fix that?
Play pretend!
“Hey babe,” that auburnette already had her head whipped south towards Dina before you could flit a blink, feet sparking her a brisk carry yon the shabby oak floor. Creak, creak, clonk, foot by foot she departs a sliver of bitterness in your chest.
A demure bitter, a sense you can simply shake off. For now.
“There you are..” spoken so softly from Dina, who still had a rack of flaxen honeycomb in her hold, slanting to an angle, “what took ya so long?” voice curling.
“Wasn't that long,” she emphasized her vowels, “m'here now..”
“Good..”
She was far from there.
“Mhh,” hummed Ellie, pressing her lips into a thin stroke, puckering about to intone a curly, “ohhh, honey– can I have a lick?”
“Mh–mm, that's for the apples.”
“Aww.”
A meshing of lovers. Real love, virgin love, dying love, feigned love, it all wreathes together on the outside– for the sake of earthly vein, tender were those emotions long ago. Hasty do the doves encircle a budding entanglement, and bells chime where dust remains uncollected on wanton hearts. Uncanny, do the crows crawl in their grandeur of an affection died– sprawling sooty wings through tough gravel and mushy mud, rendering them unable to fly again. Unearth that shit, and you're seated for a whole fuckfest, indeed.
So consume what you see with a grain of shit–face nothingness.
Ellie slinks a glide upon Dina, pushing her harsher on the counter's nook and slumping arms to swaddle her torso. She cradled her in the natural bow of her body, projection of her bony hips plated dual plumb dimples in her ass, grinding with a purpose. Denim chafes on denim, bringing a light noise of fabricy licks. The cottony hem of her soiled tank begins to bunch with each rolled hump, proving the friction to be– lustful. Her hands wander her body, not yours, pausing and choking the fat plush of her thighs, losing sunny–ruddy pigment to wanting pressure, then releases, and traces back up.
Pupils of yours aimed so pinpoint on each sweep of her hand, yet, you bore an idle set of gestures. Cupping a waxy rubber bottle in your grasp, brimmed with milk opaque of lily–white and feinting a crisp chill to your fingertips, you park the nozzle to the baby's lips. Giving a squeeze with care, you feed him– idly, idly turned from the scene afore, except for your eyes.
Strain sets a pull on them as you stare.
A bitsy wince of, “Ellie..” dries moistness on her lips, shuddering to an ajar gasp.
“Mhm, like that?” husked with a bass that ripples, so, so deep in her diaphragm, you swore it nearly rattled your ears from where you poise.
A gasp died into, “We can't–”
“But we can..” a frugal answer, meant for one pair of ears only. Only, what a joke. An ill timed joke on Dina.
Had it truly been for one person only, Ellie would not be striking risk right in the butt. Nifty as she is, juggling those risks aimlessly, she stares at you. The crown of her head ruffles up messily on her scruff as it pivots, flushed nose pointed to you, pale lids of supple creases kin to a beach cove as they open, batting reeds of chestnut everlasting. They flap, waiting for you, in the delay of that week–past chance snuffed.
Intimidating, austere demeanor flowering in those buttony pupils– and she eyefucks you with them, even tugging a wink your way. A fucking wink. Her ploy of fondling Dina, so obscenely, clearly dirty, read in gold typeface as ‘Wish this was you.’ loud and proud. Much more so when her digits curl and dig dents in her waist, and her teeth carve marks as she bites her coral lip down, showing you.
She's showing you how she wants to play with you.
Being an unwelcome voyeur, you felt the tail–tug to glance away. And in that fleeting veer, a loud smack resounded and left you surprised on the tips of your boots.
“Uh!” a yelp ejects air from its jailed position in Dina's gullet, forwarding her body with a jounce.
A foul, “Hehe–” trebles a giggle from Ellie, shit–eating grin withal, “so sensitive.. again?” her hand rubbing circles to where she struck ass.
Fuck.
Fuck, because she has uttered those exact words to you before, wetly on the shell of your ear, yesterday. At dead noon eve, stark flat on your bedroom door, a makeout you'd rather not divulge. Though, did Dina hear that thumping racket?
You feel a throb, a throb that drops. It beats from your maddened heart to your aching hole, literally. A web of hot arousal dribbles over the ribbing of your walls, leaking into a sticky splotch on the plateau of your panties. Fern eyes of something unholier–than–the–moan–of–a–devil felt denser working than self–pleasure, it tickled just right.
But it doesn't belong to you, so don't pluck that apple. Ignore that tickle.
“Okay, baby–” Dina gruffs and shoots her shoulders up, nudging Els’ clingy head off, “seriously, I got shit to do.”
“Hmm, suit yourself.” Ellie gave up and wacked her hands up in defense, feigning offense.
You slither that milk–glossy tap gently from purling lips, cooing, “There you go.” as you set the bottle down with a placid thud, spurring a lone finger up to bat slowly upon the baby's nubby nose, how maternalistic of you.
A gait of striking steps softly approaches you. With your head huddled and stance shielded the opposing direction of the two, you couldn't see who that person was. Although, you deemed it safe to assume it may be Ellie, coming to poke at you again.
“Hey, could you help Ellie sweep the barn?” a honeyed voice entrances your focus instead, Dina, of course, “sheep dragged in a whole buncha’ shit, shouldn't take long though.” she notes, casually.
A long droning intervenes “Uhhh, I never volunteered to–”
“You did when you chose to live on this farm with me,” her voice strains, flowing into a breezy chuckle whilst gesturing for you to hand her JJ, “Right, babe?”
“Pshh–”
Bearing aloft, you slink that baby's bum right into her curviform arms, feeling the cottony onesie drag on your forearm as his weight lifts off, bending at the knees scantily.
“Fiiine, I'll muck the– smelly sheep shit for ya’,” her voice bores deeper in exaggeration, becoming a blurry blob moving behind Dina's poise as she slinks forth, “gunna’ need a mask, I think.” and quips, wrapping her lithe arms to a cinch on her waist.
Dina grunts, butting her arms loose before it gets tighter and coasting a few feet yonder, “Barn, please.” reiterated she, flatly.
Tapered as her jaw is, she clenches it further, taking that blow of a refusal to her touch peevingly, teeth to a grind. Jeez, she's quite handsy today.
“Hmmph,” a grunt deadlocks at the fore of her compressed lips, rolling at the neck and cocking aside a signal for you–”c'mon.” she mumbled, clicking her waggish tongue.”
A scoff jumps from you, “M'not a horse.” you squint and trot your feet along, heavy timber steps pittering towards the ajar backdoor, dash of light spilling through.
“What? Didn't say you were.” she headstarts and jerks the door chasmally open, banging against the oaken trim.
“Door!” shouted Dina, now muffled as you enter beneath true light of day.
“Sorry!”
You wince both muck–free feet into a macula of moist earth, feeling your weight sink and squeeze a taint of muddy blob as you hoick off and traipse forth. A kittenly, “I think the only horse here is you– smelling of sheep shit,” comeback lightens the air, giggling, “Peee–yuuu, somebody get me a mask.” and shooing an invisible stench from your nostrils.
“Puuh–lease, as if you don't smell like a hot pile of garbage after your chores,” thrummed out of her gob easily, just so she could smooth in, “Emphasis on the hot.”
“God, you amuse me.” you shake your head low and smile, bloating the inwards of your cheeks ‘till they hugged your nose, two blooming mushrooms.
Her body spirals in a swing of her leg, now walking completely backwards, “Wasn't trying to amuse, m'being serious. U're hot.” she brownnosed, even giving you the fucking eye–up–and–down.
This baser, coy weirdo. Can't go nary a breath without summoning a smile unto you.
Your wandering eyes travel up a stream of fading cumulus clouds, sheer stranding like a veil pierced with astral rays– and you mull mind over answers across those clouds, for how could you reply, origin of wit?
Then, so cross the dumbest, possibly weakest retort, transferring from sky–gaze to mouth.
“Andddddd u're not.” you skip ahead of her with a feign of sass, causing her to whip back around.
“Not what you said last night.”
Okay that's true, but..
You egg her on, splayed palm melding to cold, rusted iron grip of a shovel, “I said a great many things, remind me?” as you tease.
“Gladly.” a hotness more snug than the sun cupped your wrist, pricking your grasp open free of the shovel–hilt and spinning you like a ballerina– knocking shin to shin so you plaster flat on the splintered wood door of that barn. Els hovered close, horridly close, breath fervent to your mid–face, “where should I start, babe?”
You freeze, blizzard of a kindled burn, a smolder trenching roots through your reddening cheeks. That throb, returns. You just couldn't gauge which throbbed more severely– the banging of a mad heart, resounding echoed thwacks against caved ribs, or the chokehold of your beaded clit, squeezing up into your cunt and getting you to chafe moist arousal from your labia, wringing webs across your entrance.
No, not again, not here.
“You should start..” a gulp burdens the words back in your gut, re–rounding with a deflect, “by mucking the stable.” silkenly fallen to a wholly nether topic.
Dumbfounded was the look to darken her visage, bristly brows dropping like sawed trees and cleft of her lips bowing to a frown, unamused, “Seriously?”
“Mhm!” you swerve the shovel handle at her unprovoked, letting her catch it prior to crouching under her barred arms and strolling off towards the sheep stall.
And like a dog, she tailgates hot on your hind. Bark bark bark, yapping ditto to one too, “Why do I gotta shovel shit n’ not you? –Huh?” yet in the most unserious, sportive tone, ever. Dorky smirk lingering in her words, pounding a laser through the thickset back of your skull.
Man, if Ellie was a dog– she'd be a damn Siberian husky. Pining for unending attention and peskily playful, too playful, even.
Each crunch of hay behind you, every little sigh she put forth in bone–dry air, the sum of her laughy scoffs that no way in a verdant pasture heaven wouldn't be expelled without a toothsome smirk. She was the blight of you, your anathema, pockmarking inside your brain imagery of how she looked when you averted your gaze, meanwhile she beheld the rear of your head, cocksure of her annoyance. Oh, and goddess how it never falters to soar her heart high of a heavenly altitude, skirmishing every cloud with her melodious drum of life when even simply laying scrutiny to the hair awry with mess, shrouding your nape in the natural fall of it, bouncing on each step. A love of life that you could give.
That is all her mind bends to, pestering you, so help her goddess, she will enact anything, to make this abominable sin a grounded relationship.
Look upon me, won't you?
You tuck a finger around the tiny hook lock, opening the large sheep stall, “Because–” you pause, cutting past the rails and drawing an arm over to grasp a rickety rake, elevating it over the half–wall, “someone's gotta uncover the shit first.”
Her knee pooches out mildly as she recasts her weight on a wall, twiddling her thumb over every scuffed mark of the shovel, examining its ridges beneath her print. Yet, her eyes stayed absorbed in you, taking the waft of every leg stride, arching of your spine as you stoop down, extension of your hands grasping the rake's shaft– stabbing the crooked tines into a labyrinth of heaping hay, the screaming of metal scraping on concrete, causing her ears to tremble and tighten, alongside a squint. The noise muffles, then awakens as she relaxes her facial muscles, slacking her jaw to speak, “Y'really good at that, y'know..” mumbled, even.
“Mmht–” you smack your tongue moist, dithering your head in puzzled wags, “–I am literally just raking the ground,” humbled you, thinking of her dumbly so, “weirdo.”
“Pshh, yeah, but I bet you'll have this whole stall swept in like a minute tops.” she claims through a fried rasp, vailing her pale lids low as she stares– stares of yearn.
Further squashed upon hilarity, you whack a tuft of hay clean through air, then stake the rake upright to a wooden beam and lean, staring back rich with spite, “And I bet an hour for you, what– just standing there?”
“I don't see any shit yet, m'waitin’ on youu..” her vowel drawls long, smug–fuck expression curling those rosy lips.
“Oh really?” your thumb unlocks from the lot of your clutching digits, breaching the rake with a springy sound as it bludgeons against the oaken column. Ranging your foot forward, you brace the skimp distance from you to her, planting softened steps.
Maraschino cherry of her chubbed cheeks, a puckish smirk reads more and more intently as you approach. Each thwack of sole leather to hardy ground is a pump of excitement for her– reckoning your current passage as a rite of igniting something. Sway of your hips, stopping of your tracks in front of her, she wonders– or hopes, of what you'll do next.
You gave that freckled face a prompt pore–over, recognizing that flare of her brows jerking up slightly when you park optics onto her slit–open ones, inhaling, “Then let me do it.” and splaying your palm up to the ceiling, expecting the shovel plumb in–hand, easily.
“Hmm, nah.”
You furrow a lone brow, “Why not?”
“Cuz’ I got it.” spoken cockily, lips flubbed out and head swung like a whip, winding the crescent strands of burnished hair out of her eyesight.
So cavalier.
If Dina were here, the place’d be fuckin’ primely polished. Be for real.
“Sure,” you blunt your accent, nigh on sarcasm, “what's gotten into you?” pleating your fist to a ball, you slot it between the warm pocket of breast to bicep, crossing your arms.
You.
You– are what's gotten into her. Two horny adults unchaperoned, in the convenience of privacy, sub rosa, a smidgeon apart, lusting with their parts of lechery, staring down at sorely empty hands that could be full of each other's flesh, it doesn't fare well. Emptiness, a sphere of it, sleeping in palms where it is an unwelcome voyeur– snoring, vibrating. Dormant touch never falls short of pulsation, like a magnet, it reaches for her.
Stroking the shovel rod as she does, with those knobby fingers of hers, twining the length, was patently suggestive. Soft rings resonate with each tug of her clewed hand, rubbing up and down, slow and thorough, what the fuck.
And worst–best of all? Eyes. Her sooty, pebble blown pupils thinning the evergreen in her eyes, pierced yours. Forbidding ones.
God, wary of reality or not– admit this, it was definitely hot. Hot, how her ashen lids embrace the snow and veins, a human cadre of gossamery skin. Hot, because they read debaucherous– and could carbonize a bible to cinders with a single glance, sacrilege to poetry, ergo; ‘Fuck me’ eyes. And lastly, hot, as they sat a throne upon a wicked smile, exposing her front teeth lightly, spit line attached top to bottom. In short, breathing you in, made her high off lust.
Asudden, the bow indenting her mouth is backwashed in a swallow, and her eyes disappear beyond the hood of her brow bone, captivating her soul upon a sigh. A sigh she breaks contact for, a sigh she must take, in lieu of composure– when all she perceived of you was a temptation.
A bastion of forced air swells up her cheeks, lukewarm on the gums, pouty of the lips, “Fffffffuck–” mouthed she full of that exhale, shaking her head to a low duck.
“Fuuck, what?” a mimic of her quiet curse befell your lips, curving tone and brow in confusion.
That's when her head perked, an inch, a slanted inch, bedeviled eyes divided by the drop of a short russet strand, mouth pursing to vowel out, “You.” hoarsely.
“Like ‘Fuck you bitch’ or in a ‘I'm gonna fuck you’ typa’ way?” you undulate your head cartoonishly, heightening the emphasis of both those options, cause both appeared likely.
Fluff of her brows crooking weirdly, she gawks with an inlay of temptations, bought, “That is the dumbest fuckin’–” she chuckles dryly, nose facing heavenward as she spins the shovel, going clockwise ‘round you, “–question, I've ever heard.”
Step by step, on beat, you slowly spun with her encirclement, noticing now that you're inclined to back up into the wall as she kitty–corners you, idle mitt pressing finger wads to textured wood, laying spread.The scratch of it smooches your shoulder blades as you smush plane on the wall, calves ghosting wales of wood coarse enough to leave blushy marks, and yet you rely on it to camouflage from her intimidating gaze.
A heartbeat hastens, brimming your throat with a blockage capable of consuming the words before ears could, tethering a timid gasp out instead.
Ellie rasped deep, “Cat got your tongue, hmm? Don't back down ‘n me now..” the heat of her face hovers close, cocking her head laterally to fit perfectly in your headspace, air blown from every syllable fanning your sutured mouth.
The weight her stare threw upon you was, probing, and direful. Every attempted scape–glance was a gut instinct, a reflex when shagged to a set of human bars. Flesh of bone, bone in flesh, arm to arm, what a bloody mess.
You curl your shoulders inwards, pressing folded elbows skin–tight to your ribs, “Dumbest question?” a gulp cuts the sentence, “you didn't even answer.”
“Want me to?”
“Yeah,” in defense, you tested her, “I do.”
“Ohhaha– okay..” Els’ cadence rose to amused laughter, shifting on her feet slightly, “We can fuck.” but she spoke it like you requested of it, although, did you?
Fuck.
A bulbous mass pushed your legs clean apart, trampiling the dress to a tight pull around your thighs. Confounded, you drop sights, sinking your chin in towards your neck and realizing– it was her knee.
Rough denim rustles clemently, a whisper of two fabrics meeting, between your quads. A friction so faint, so hush, begins to purr more acutely when a– ahh, pressure. A carnal pressure is given, given with urge, urging on your barely confined clit.
It stings as she drives her knee in, getting you to clench your insides, to seize up.
A juxtaposition doomed to interblend skin.
You impel up on the wall, heel sloping to rest on the flat trim. It smashed your pussy lips, causing a chafe, ramming fabric inside the rim of your hole, a velvety draw of sleek depressing on the cotton tongue of your panties makes it stay there. Thereupon, her groin grinds a roll, nudging your pussy on top of her knee.
“Remember this, babe?” Ellie gives thrall to the dense steel in her vocals, ticking her head aside more to pass that breath firmly on your ear, “–‘member how good my knee felt? Mhm? ‘So fuckin’ good’, you said?”
A diabolical coo, she's trying to get under your skin figuratively– and literally further.
But it surfaced that memory like a buoy, erecting ayond the navy sea line with its eye–catching signal. In you, it materializes. Last night, came a blanket of umbra, yawning its penumbra in the horizon. Witching hour, obscene–eyed, gloaming your senses and eating away at deceit. Deceived? Yeah, that's how you felt, daylight by day bright, a misinterpreter.
All throughout the day, she would ghost right past you en route to Dina, much like earlier– and love up on her. Spread her taint of arousal between you, her, and you, then her again. Leading on last night, where she stowed her knee, just like now, affirming how mortally she may succumb to madness without your vulnerable phasing unto her, except, in a casual way, short of poetry. On top of that continuous grind she gave on your groin, she marked you with a claim so bold,
So freakish, so outré.
Dirty with her perverted thoughts.
You remember it, hard.
‘You love me just as much as your pussy does, face it.’
Hence, her knee felt as fucking liberating as it did that stone stark night. Your clit throbs with an ache, coiling your womb in moreish begs, more, moree.. please more.
“I remember.” uttered softly, throat shutting on the words as you choke up in sensation.
A cordial chuckle blows summery hot on your ear, “Hehe, good,” and is soaked deeper in with a puckered kiss, popping quietly, “Good girl.”
That made you shiver, in a growing delight. A heat seeping between your folds, has you bearing down on her knee, slopping that raw precum all over the ruined seams of your underwear. In bodily reaction, your cunt shriveled in on itself, squelching a drop on barely–there textile– glossing a wet patch on the knoll of her knee.
Ellie espied that moistness saturating through her jeans and spreading warm on flesh when it seeps, slinking her leg a wimp inch out to gauge the spot, a fucking masterpiece, smack dab on her knee, “Fuck,” she spews, pinning teeth to lip, “for me?” she questions, even with an obvious ass answer staring her in the eyes.
Forget Dina, this felt right– too right.
“For you.”
Her teeth bare vast in a smirk, doubling up her cheeks, “God, I love you.” because finally, fucking finally, she will have her cake and eat it too.
But first, eat the space before you.
And so she does, tucking the wad of her nose squashed in the crevice of your nostril and cheek, brushing of her mildly cracked lips greet yours to part, a balmy ask of entrance. Wagging against, the skin barely hugs with cushy compress, then she nips your bottom lip and wedges her own between, indulging the bump of your cupid's bow to cradle a whisker inside her suckled hold– her humid realm of fog. Buds connected, she felt like butter searing, softness melting, disintegration inside your clasp of a satiny hole, and she was pungent of farmland, muck sweat, everything you could have prest for. Ellie pushes passion in the form of little spit bubbles down your throat– ingesting your voice, your taste, your brain, essence in whole. Taking each other in your own two gullets, bolts of song, and long gaping moans– and even longer pants of make–out exhaustion.
“Mhhh,” she shoves another groan to rattle your teeth, hopping over cloud nine with each moan you reciprocated– like music in a fairytale, a ballad, or of a siren song, splendidly spellbinding, yes? “–fhhck yeshh–” She hums, forwarding a buck of her knee fiendishly.
You yelped, and she liked that, an impish grizzle pushing past the swollen smile and drags saliva across yours.
But.
Those hands once empty, cannot lie powerless to being so. Hers, fly from the wall behind your head and trace down your biceps, buckling unfurled over the bulge of your loose breasts and cup them tender, giving a squeeze that dimples flesh above the neckline of your dress. Not a complaint rose from you, you liked it, yearned hard of it– loved it.
She could tell by the mere movement of your back, arching into her grasp, getting her fingers to squish them even flatter, laughing the kiss to a pause, “Look at you–” she hinds back to look at you, taking your eager rush to follow her lips into regard, “fucking cutie.”
“Don't call me cutie.” you astern.
“Why noott–”
“No.”
A grin enlightens her anyways, “Got it,” and slides her lip back between yours, suckling the plump of your upper, “Mhmm..” hummed so gravelly, so good on your ears, yummy.
This girl will be the first suspect of your murder. Murder of love.. in spring.
Adjourning the freshly–sown kiss with a sloppy smack, you interrupt, “Y'know–” mhhp, a quick peck, “–think I love you too.”
“Think?” she knits her brows together dumb on your featherly melded foreheads, squishing the grooves that form in–between, “could already tell from last night,” her rasp makes it sound of a patent fact, chuckling like an asshole when you whine amid her tease, “hmm–hm, sorry babe.”
“God, you're such a dick,” you bind your head lower and ghost your barren lips over her chin, smiling amongst your dim shadow.
Index and thumb of her hand thaw ripely of your chin, exerting under the bone and beckoning you up with a kind pull, “Would a dick do this–” she twines you to the left, “Mmph,” pasting a kiss beneath one eye, “or this,” twines you to the right, pasting another peck, “or even this?” and lastly, twines you faceward.
Patent of her pattern, you expect a delicate pair of those blood swell, pouty lips to spare something planets away from porny lust– a promise, that none of this was bad. However, hopes are dashed like a racehorse when your chin rears free and a blur of her auburn head plunges out of sight, and under the hood.
“Els’, where are you–”
Oh.
A gale of air spills up the gap of your thighs, sought upon by the whipping of your sundress’ hem up crinkled in her dual grasps, pushed against your hip bones. Knees grind in shallow dust, planting just next to your parked feet with a soft rub between the four, the perfect position, an orgasmic view. Ellie lets a gasp free upon eyeing the fat blotch soaked thoroughly to a glisten, fabric eased in your labia, showing her the shape of it. God, ‘think she saw you clench just now.
She balls the fabric to one hand, dropping her other and husking dry, “There she is– fuck, missed me?” a waggy finger rises to your clit, toying it in meager flicks– almost as to pet it.
A wince cries from you, “Ahh–” and you perk on your toes, inching away from her fingertip now padded in your sodden arousal.
Yet that fucking finger follows, pressing a hiemal print to flatten your bloated clit, clothed labia hugging the willowy knuckle. Cocky chuckle– likeness of her unabashed assholery and spilt through grit teeth, she muses in your clamping pussy lips, “Hehe, yeah? Need my fuckin’ fingers, huh?” and those damned coos, that tender tune, gosh– you can't get enough of it.
But you've had your fill of plaguing rumination.
Dina's away, nay a breath of her lingers here, not a peep of her can disrupt you, disrupt what you feel– how Els’ makes you feel. It's not wrong, if you're not the one suggesting it. It's not immoral, if it was never held in the hands of your intention. It's not your fault, if you let it transpire. Nothing to rue, not your sin, not your wrongdoing.
So you pluck the apple.
An ease of your quads down pricks your clit with the poke of her finger, cushing the delicate flesh, “Mhm– yes, yess.” whined you, nigh on breathless.
“That's right,” thick is her voice– like a coddling of wood thicket, pushing past the devout lips that embed themselves in the chub pliancy of your belly, lain of a smooch to your womb, a quiet one, “thaat's fuckin’ right.” and jerking your clit measured with tease, idly rubbing.
The gentle marrow of that contact with your belly and your clit, sent you aquiver. Your abdomen, shaking lightly against her mouth with a breath in, lading your stomach with a rise, high–strung by that simple kiss. Too sweet, you thought, sweetly toxified of honey, unorthodox to how hoggish she usually strikes as– you expected her usual playfulness.
Softness can be addictive, and her version of soft, definitely was.
“Soo fuckin’ good t'me..” her lips detach only to press back in, multiple times, same exact spot. She wouldn't dare budge, not when it was deemed her duty to kiss you there by some unknown force, or her own accord. Ellie whispers, lugging those honey–drug lips over the pouch of your belly, “need that good fucking pussy n’ my mouth.”
A tilt, a modest slant of your hips projecting your crotch against her collarbone was your ask of entrance, and she gave her answer so fast.
“Hold this,” she cranes the clump of skirt to one of your paws, letting go when you meet fingers over fingers with her and hold your skirt to your ribs. She stops playing with your clit completely, tracing said finger up your groin and under your pantyline, pleating the band in on itself as she journeys it to your knees– letting it freefall from there.
Despite the milk–warm weather lambent to your forehead when settled under the sun, meant zilch to the cooler world inside the barn. Not wintry, but a tangible change sensed in your bare pussy. That's why you fastened your quads to a clench, nearly sucking in your cunt– oh, and the fact that two olive fern eyes are bluntly viewing it. Stage fright, much?
A fried gasp of, “Ohh, shit–” chills it further with exhalation upon discovering the raw truth to your aroused pussy, engorged in size and pinkish in sex irritation. Ellie was drunken in that eyeshot of serumy precum wetting a film between your slit, drawing gluey webs over your hole, barely open for full study. She needs you open, she longs to see, gulping a horny thought audibly before speaking, “spread them pretty legs for me, hmm? C'mon, it's just me–” she assures, donning that calming placidity whilst palming the round of your knees apart to guide you, “–there we go, uh'huh, fuck..” departed of her voice, husky as she studied the open spread of your filthy hole, dripping for her like it fucking knew she was looking at it.
All you could engage was a tunneled stare down of your protruding crotch and her reddish–brown dusted crown, the slump your knees took clung on the flank of her biceps– plowing with an indent in her bare sun–baked skin. Els’ face so sanguine compared to the paler pigment of her fingers, which now push your thighs uncomfortably agape to the extent of bulging fat between her knuckles. Eyes bark, luring under lids so heavy and lashes like a vignette– they bark and say, ‘Keep your fucking legs open.’
Say no less.
Taken in awe, “She's so fucking pretty–” she curses with meaning, a means to make it known, licking up a river between your folds upon seeing that exhilarating view, cupping a glob of slick in her pink muscle.
“Shit..”
Withdrawing her tongue, she swallows the creamy delight, “Prettiest pussy ever, ‘uh'huh, that's right.” Ellie being Ellie, she slaps it, eyeballing the spongy skin recoiling.
“Ah!”
“Yeah..”
Your nude cunt was honeydew heaven in her eyes, gleaming wet like grapefruit, that's why her tongue was already slipping out on open air. Head inching to intimacy, the button of her nose dovetails seamlessly between the tippity top of your folds, and your clit, kissed with a hot spell. That bud, it fit perfectly in the wrapping of her lips, straightaway suctioned further into the gummy pucker of her mouth.
An ache zaps that little bouquet of nerves and coerces you to nearly swoon over it, yelp hitching, “Ha– aah,” and shudder teething, “Ellie..” with a hump of your glutes butting her head back, only stirring that hungry mouth of hers to pop off and swaddle it back in, tongue flicking.
Her nostrils sunk deeper in, airflow turning muffled in your crotch– yet her moans remained, abounding, vibrating on your sensitive pearl, “Mhhhh, mhmm.” rumbling deep under the soft squelching her moving jaw brought to fruition.
Ellie, you fucking god, giving those plumate licks that are barely there, but scarily paired with deftness, getting you to squirm and squeal, “Yess– baby, yess..” That pink muscle snagging under the hood sometimes, smacking that pretty tiny clit of yours around with foams of flavor whisking onto her taste buds, humming in the notes of sex.
“Mhhh, fhhck.” her lips sever an inch, mumbling into your clit, “fuck you and your pretty little hole, god, fuck you.” she curses, cause how dare you let her impulses conquer, returning a trio of digits along your legs and swiftly finding your pussyhole, dilating the lips apart and shoving all three inside. How dare you, engross her ears in your moans echoing akin of a cathedral in her skull, ushering her to fuck you unholy.
“Ellie!” you wail, hoisting on your toes a second and clutching her in those slobbering walls– which only gushed a leak of arousal on her digits, and blocked her from further thrusting slightly, taken aback by the sudden stretch.
Her lips pop off again, slurping up the wet laces strung to her pout from your fattened labia, “Schlp– jesus, you are fucking tight,” the deepness rippled in her voice, groggy from the moist caking her gob, “let me in, don't push me out.. c'mon..” she coos gently, eyeballing the swallow her fingers took past your soaked lips, knuckles disappearing.
“O–ohh,” you tried to mouth ‘okay’, but the word just didn't fit the part.
“Just like that..” Ellie cools a fresh sigh, praising with a proud curl on her face, “Good fuckin’ pussy..”
Letting go, your gut loosens and heightens the sensation of her skinny fingers bottoming soundly inside your vagina, feeling the callouses rub as they curl and tickle your angelsent spot, airing lips find purchase behind her fingers– and a pointy nose bumps your clit pervaded with purpose.
Spry is the moan, moaning over ‘spilled milk’, “Oh my g– uhnn..” woe is you, clawing phantomly at the spring that coils inside your womb, unknowingly providing Ellie's eager mouth with your precum.
The physical reality around you, suddenly only consisted of you, her, the barrier that stills your back, and a void inside you– being filled.
Literally.
And figuratively? Cause jeez, you must give sanctuary to a sin–eating, fleshoid beast inside your bone prison of a body, coming back here for seconds like that.
Might you be the dirty.. dirty dog instead?
Rivers of filth, she pumps those glossy droplets out of you, leathery scars caressing your ribbed canal with each pleasuring undo of your senses, she steals them like they are impartial to your bliss– bliss is all she needed you to feel for her. Fuck the worry, trash the heartache, yank the anxiety out, and soften into a pretty blob atop her fingers.
Her sultry blessing sitting upon those fingers, that's how she deems you– you do well to remember that. Her, willing frame of hips thrusting back down on the friction she gives, burrowing her nose a scent so naturally seducing, a pheromone, fucking elates her own throbbing pussy. Nothing sugary, nothing stomach–churning, just the taint of you. The threading of her jean's crotch was enough of a brute, bullying her egged clit by driving a split in it, flattening the fleshy hood everytime she shifted weight from knee to abdomen, poor her.
“Huhnn– shit,” heaved grizzlier in her carp of stimulation decay, lack thereof rubbing one out herself and watching your delicate skin expand and crease. How could you blame her– her hand looked so right plugging your hole.
You suck your belly in, drawing tense on that thickset motion playing with your g–spot, whimpering, “Els’, please.. I can't..” a well floods in your waterline, searing with tears of crystalline iodine.
You really can't.
That scruffy mullet hides most of her big cranium, but, it was so fucking hot seeing the nominal stroke of her face, blushing strawberries betwixt your butter–spread legs. Her nose bobs north and south, dragging the bulb of cartilage over that nippy rosebud she happily exhales onto, pushing you over the earthly edge born of paltry touching. Ellie cognizes the slick–clear gospel that you were pending climax, manifesting as your needy bear downs into her slopping mouth practically lactating your pussy juices deep in the pit of her stomach, and the swelling of your wooed clit led on by her tongue, growing big and reddish on her nose to where it clasps the tip in a pillowy fashion, dabbing a glob of creamy sap.
A mouthquake splutters wetness mixed with her spit across your inner–thighs abd vibrates your folds, betrothal of her voice waking back up, sourly muted, “She's– suh good.. mhphh– to me..”
“Ellie..” you falter on breath, leavening in pitch.
“Phh–” a frothy sound garbled in your pussy lips, pushing her spit bubbles inside your gaping hole and traveling deeper with her fingering you, “makin’ this pushhy’ mine..” flubbed she, lapping up her cupid's bow of smeared sleek.
Your hole clamps her in as the pang begins to tick its patchy count of time, wearing the glass knot of your womb to a cracking, and troubling the base of her digits.
“Fuck, you wanna’ make this harder?” she sterned to the velvety rim of you locking on her triple shafts, porking webs of your pre–finish to teardrop down your walls as her palm splashes against your loch–sodden slit and mashes your g–spot repeatedly, plush of your labia bouncing in ripples. The noises were abundant, and pornographic, mushy as she fixes so much of your arousal on the pads of her fingers, hormones spiking at the lewd noises, “you hear that baby, ooh, fuck.” foxily ‘ooed’ that foxy–maned girl, beguiled in how your pussy spurts for her.
It wept in slaps, eliciting a palping squelch to bang, bang– bang– pound, brandishing a chilly tempest through and through your bloating labia, quivering as it readies to release. The stuffing was intimate– like a punch inside your spirit, coaxing the fragile glass to a rend, ergo, pushing out every lash of pure lucid squirt.
On the beat of your hole gushing, yelps batting you shut in the plain intensity such an orgasm brought forth, tore Ellie from simply just watching– to drinking every drop. Her voice, dusky in the backdrop of your wails sounded, “Yes– yess, babe fuckk that's it.. mhm, all over my fuckin–” her words wane as her lips clock in, a sudden rush of void fleets with her fingers sheathing out, drawing a long lubricous bunch of webbing only to be nourished in the warmth of her mouth– pursing into your labia and shaking about as you squirt.
Ellie has no shame in getting soiled of you, even the devil himself blushed at the linkness of her mid–face pancaking your lissom skin apart, spewing you wide.
“Ah! Nuh– nonono, t'much, too– uhhnn..” your throat fails you, clumping wads of words that wanted to breach, but her mouth was too good, and it's fucking obvious that she wouldn't stop, not when she can have you like this, bucking onto her flat tongue. Sinfully good, disgusting in the rawest fashion, making your crotch burn with ecstasy more than it already did.
Water upon the push of her mouth, blowing in and slopping noisily at the meat of your pussy lost it's carry to your ears. A biome of shadow, veils your vision and a pressure rains less than tender between your eyes, blurring everything before you, ebbing the grasp of your skirt to an impossible job, hands ashake. All you could gauge above the hood was fiery sweat, hot, steaming– taunting sweat, licking at your forehead.
Her nose headbutts into your vagina, slinking languidly as her head finally smacks off your numb folds, laughing, “Holy fuck– y'taste so good,” the air windy to your soaked entrance, convulsing in front of her barren eye, “shoulda’ let me lick you sooner.”
Huff, and puff, until the binds of your chest blow down, sprouting with an entire current of air, panting more than dramatic as you dwindle down like a bird's plume, “Too.. huh– haah, bad.”
A new kiss is savored to your clit, absorbing the snift her snort gave, “Haha– yeah yeah, n'you liked it, don't lie.”
No lie was home to call. You’ve a truthful virtuality.
You truly did like it, love it, cave obsession over that moment– for now it passes, and not a peck of guilt ran prickly on your arm hairs, saving your gullet free of a stony gulp. No crows died in the revelation of your scandal, only doves, encirclement in a trance chirping nuptials to be had.
I really do love you, Ellie.
Is that so bad?
“I can’t catch my– oof,” you grab sudden air with your fructifying lungs, “–can’t catch my fuckin’ breath.” and the struggle was visible, muscles like puppet strings to your fingers losing proper grasp and billowing the skirt plop on her head.
The rotund shape of it wiggles from the draping hem, continuing to laugh when her wet–handed fingertips poked thin on your ankle, bulging on both sides as she drew your panties back up all the way, slithering under your skirt’s canopy and stretching the band to a snap on your hips, skin tiding, jerking you off warning, which for sure winded the breath back in ya.
“Sheesh, no care for my panties at all?” remarked you of fun wit, gliding your thumb apart to rub the bend of your hip crest.
“You literally ruined them before–”
“And whose fault is that?” you winched from the barn wall and met pupil–to–pupil with her rising figure, revealing how slick–fucked her face really is, glossing with evidence of your cunt.
“Mine..” proudly, guilt was basal to her tone, nonexistent, inching closer to you with a slight wobble swaying on her heels.
You hark the crunch of gravel below, but keep your gaze airborne, Ellie–borne, “Exactly.”
“Cause m'hot?”
“No,” you rock your head, evil smirk deepening the corners of your lips to your gums, “that's a dumb question.”
Her arms begin to slink at fore, elbows chafing her flank, “Wow, stole my line.”
“Still dumb.” you pinch the neckline of her tank, straining it up to wipe her mouth clean.
“Coulda’ just used my hand.” she still does, the dork, purging any excess to the hill of her bent wrist.
You scrunch your nose fakely, “Uck,” and express, mumbling, “Bring a rag next time.”
Her hands then drop, creeping towards your sides, “Didn't think we were gonna–”
“Liar.”
Those strapping hands bend with wrinkles in her knuckles as they plant pleasantly on your hips, fingernails curling with lustier keys, tugging you plane on her body, “You're so fucking cute,” is all she could say, because there was no stem of denial baying for a different answer,
Doing this was always lingering a tail on her thoughts.
“And such a bitch, fuuck– want you so bad,” complained she, pushing the last of her grizzled groans past her blood–swell lips, which now dive in the sweaty nook of your swan neck– bespattering the sensitivity, “–need y’so bad..”
You comb a paw of fingers through her honey–cresten mane, dividing strands apart and giving a fond press to her scalp, whispering upon her pale–rosen ear, “Then have me–”
“I can’t,” her crumbled lips fail to cling, dragging dry beneath your ear, “I fucking can’t.” wearily said, wearing her voice to nothing.
Infidelity.
Wasn't nice at all, on both sidewalks.
A purer bid of tears wet her cheek, drenching into the flesh of your neck as she pushes into you, holding you dear, vast afar from intentions to let go.
“I know..” was a rare comfort, and wasn't one to you right now– for plucking that apple, ripped you of innocence. A blind eye you turn when sensuality is awake. Enrapture chokes your senses, sweeps you in the moment, clouds your memory of those ugly, nasty etceteras– those facets that deplore it. Even now, when Ellie collapses weight onto her ankles, pressing you into that same wall you saw heaven on, touching heartbeats incandescent for each other's total consumption, weeping wet on your bare shoulder– it hurts, aches you to say, “But I don't want to know.”
Clutch of your neckline, she bruises her knuckles tight in it, spiteful almost– gagging on tears that roll the wrong road, “Guh– fucking hell, don't say that..”
“Ellie, it's–”
“Don't.”
“Not your fault.” you flap your fingers up, palm still glued, patting her head.
She doesn't belong to you.
Yet you act like she does.
Pity.
A sniffle is the intake of air you feel before her nose skims off, craning her neck to an angle where she can gaze adjacent to your cheek, for beholding may prove a demise. But she can't forgo this one ask, this dream perched upon her brain, “Babe..” she purrs, dead of cadence.
“Hmm?” a whirl invites your nose to her cheekbone, offering you the picture of her side–profile. Oh, those lashes so dashing, they curl, darken her snow of eye, and trap tears.
Why, it's as if a rainbow overcasts those auburn reeds.
Ellie's capsized tune finds its stream back to that scratchy rasp, silkenly intoning on your earlobe, “Can you sleep with me tonight?” her buds ghost the rim, popping on the syllables.
Is that even possible?
You debate with the figments in your mind, casting doubt over your facial muscles, knitting, “Ellie, you know–”
“I don't.”
“Els.”
Long forked strokes of her fingers run up your jaw, scrolling you to then focus on her face cocooning your entire sight, and a husk enlaces you, “Forget about Dina,” a glimmer summons her lips to curl once again, “just tonight, fucking please?”
Fucking please.
A silence rots in the cordial space sparsely separating you, wrenching her brows with a ravine indenting between them– the serious look you love. And her hold of hands appear to deepen in your cheeks, claiming your skin as one, melting into her prints, squeezing a reply from you.
hi guys. really sorry for the delay in finishing up my works… grieving my best friend has gotten harder & i’m honestly just not in the right headspace. especially now with the holidays
the drafts are still there, just trying my best to get around to finishing all of them
thank you to everyone who has been so sweet to me the past few months… it means a lot
godd i loved ur pretty on camera fic literally can't stop thinking abt it TO THIS DAY n I can't wait for squeaky clean 🌊🌊🌊🤤 slip n slide into this pussy ellie puhhlease!!! love you baefy 🤍 jizzheart
HI BAE sorry i just saw this but thank youuuu omfg. your writing is literally god tier so this is such a compliment coming from you… i love u
cw: oral (both receiving), slight angst, alcohol use if you squint, dry humping, troubles with sexuality, cheating, tribbing, choking if you squint, time jump, slight slow burn.
MINORS DNI
read part one of ‘touch me’
summary: its been years since that day. you took it upon yourself that maybe it was just a mistake, leaving ellie out to wonder why. lying to yourself just to safe face, hiding your own identity of being a lesbian just to live the life society says you should but it’s all broken down once you meet with her once again. all those memories you once shared piling high as you felt the lust, the love you tried to bury all this time.
a/n: i didn’t proof read this and i don’t feel too confident that this will be any good, but i do hope you end up enjoying this.
you couldn’t forget it.
the nerves you felt, how excited it all made you feel. it was like the world had stopped that very moment just for you two. never in a million years did you think that you’d have that one moment with ellie fucking williams… but you did.
and you just couldn’t forget about it.
sooner or later it was time to go back to university. you knew this. she did too. prioritizing your time and creating more of these ‘moments’ with her was something that you wished that you had done, but you didn’t and you felt so fucking stupid. your nerves caused you to distance yourself— all that confidence that had in those few moments was gone once you faced your parents… her parents. shame and guilt riddled and wrapped you around your neck like a noose. the question is why though? you felt so free. that moment felt like it had been destined to happen that you and her were supposed to have had that kiss, that want, that lust.
she was the first girl and only girl you touched and you promised that she’d be the last.
it wasn’t like ellie hadn’t tried contacting you during the limited time you both had when you both were back in your home town. occasionally texts were sent, casually asking how your day went and if you wanted to meet up. that’s how they started anyway. ellie worried about you. nothing that came to mind gave her a sense of ease considering that nothing but white noise was given back to her — silence. day after day she waited beside her phone like a fucking idiot, hoping that one of the messages would’ve been yours.
the anticipation ran high and deep, it made her sick. a ‘hi’ wouldve been enough but you didn’t even give her that, you just read it. it’s not like you didn’t want to reply, you just couldn’t. the dim screen laminated your face as you huddled yourself in your comforter, fingers inching towards the keyboard of a response that you never sent. each attempt gave you more of a reason to let everything be.
that should be and will be the only time a moment like that will happen, you promised yourself that.
why though? you were already out to yourself. touching ellie made her know that you were into women too, so what’s the real reason why you couldn’t reply. what’s the real reason why you’re ghosting her? you couldn’t even reply to a hello text or say, ‘see you later’ when you both went back to your universities. you left her hanging.
‘you used me.’ ellie thought.
seeing you clutch onto your suitcase, entering your father’s car with the biggest smile on your face as you say your goodbyes to your family. it angered her. eyes that once was full of lust and love were dead and cold just like that gloomy day that granted them warmth and comfort. she stared at you. you looked at her. jaw clenching as she sighed a heavy sigh, waiting for a word, just one to be said to her before you go, but you just looked at her. your eyebrows fixing themselves into a solum stare disappearing in the car door.
go back and say goodbye.
just tell her goodbye.
she deserves a goodbye at least.
•••
some time has passed, days. weeks. months. a year then two, then three. you had finally graduated and found an occupation that lined up with your interests and surprisingly paid well. with your parents help and friend you met during your first year of college added in to help get you an apartment that was still in the same home two you grew up in— your friend being your roommate.
it was safe to say that you had almost completely forgot about ellie. seeing the thick clouds that danced along the skyline that you and her would admire, identifying its shapes that would form into birds, a crocodile or a bear, the memories… those precious fond memories were nearly gone. the past was being remembered by another you, in another life.
even though you came to terms with yourself, no one knew but her. you couldn’t tell your religious parents, that’s not ‘gods way’ and you couldn’t tell your friend… what would she think? that void was thickening itself and it drew you in. you wanted to be set free. you wanted to be yourself. you wanted to not care what people though. you wanted so much. you wanted to be truthful… at least to yourself yet you couldn’t.
you found a boyfriend, celebrating your one year anniversary with him gathering a bouquet of roses, a box of chocolates and what he thought was good sex. he was good looking by societal standards— well groomed, tall, occupying a good paying job. he was everything your parents wanted him to be. making them proud was one of your objectives in life… so the day he asked you to be yours, you said yes but you knew you didn’t want to.
that year of being with him couldn’t compare to that day you had would ellie.
ellie?
you had forgotten.
did you you really forget?
“hey.” your friend chirped as she lined crimson red lipstick on her lips. you watched as her lips tugged while she puts on the product so delicately. “you ready?”
“yeah, ive been ready.” you laugh, already dressed and prepared to go out to a club that had just opened. you weren’t necessarily a club goer, you never even went to college parties or drank like the other students did, there was no interest in doing so but your friend wanted to go, she wanted to find a one night stand. it was amusing how she went on and on about how she would forever be alone simultaneously fake crying just to convince you that going to this club wasn’t going to be as stupid as thought it would be.
she turned from the mirror, a nice black dress hugging her frame, with the deep red on her lips being the only thing that popped opposed to the lack of color anything else she wore… or didn’t. that dress was fucking short. your eyes couldn’t help but stare— dragging them along her legs that sat so nicely down and out from her dress and those heals that clacked on the floor. “do i look good?”
“you look… hot.” that she did.
“why thank you, now let’s go.”
it has now been a good few hours at this club and you were overwhelmed, clutching onto the small thick glass cup that had the most shittiest tasting liquor you’d ever tasted. your friend was in luck, grinding and dancing against a man you had never seen before. eyes locked onto her lifting dress, seeing the panties peak through that she didn’t even care to match it’s color with anything other than her lipstick. the way her breast were being hugged so tightly and her cleavage poked through, moving each time she’d bounce. the man’s hand sliding against her dress that now rippled at her sides from being lifted— you couldn’t look away. the expression in her face looked so good, biting down on her lip, hips rolling against the other’s frontside, molding herself to the sound of the thick music that boomed from every speaker that surround the entire place. she looked so good. she looked too fucking good. she looked sexy—
what were you doing? stop.
you downed the rancid drink, asking for another just to let this tense feeling subside itself and pay attention to something else that your friend. maybe you should be having fun too. dance, live a little. all you ever did was overthink and worried, this was your chance to live in the moment.
after your second drink, that’s what you did. or tried to do. went out on the dance floor and let the music flow into your body, the bass rumbling through your chest and the liquor burn and warm you up. that is until you saw her and she saw you.
a pair of green eyes sizing you up like you were a statue on display— a cold yet intrigued stare that was infectious. you tried to act as if you didn’t see her, turning your body swiftly, continuing to dance. she wasn’t going to let that happen.
minutes pass and you thought she had gone somewhere or maybe she was still staring, you couldn’t check to see. you wanted to, but you didn’t.
you should.
no you don’t.
yes you do.
no you don’t.
turning around, there she stood. the auburn girl, freckles painting her face like the art piece you had forgotten but remembered just when she was in front of your view.
“ellie..”
she looked different, more mature, less oblivious than she had before. the way her eyes held more intent than the softness they had as she doodles in that sketch pad you remember she always used. her hair was short, not longer that the center of the back of her neck with an outfit that seemed a little too underdone composted to everyone else that surrounded them here but in all, she looked so good.
“when did you come back? how long have you been back?” she asked as she leaned down. even her voice changed. it fluctuated with the sound of the bumping music and for some reason, just from the first word she spoke, it felt electrifying, running its course all throughout your body, knees weakening. “didnt care to say hello?” she laughed, standing upright, running her tongue against the bottom of her lip, cocking an eyebrow.
you looked around, thinking that everyone around you knew what happened between you both. full of worry, they roam, they follow, each face staring down at you, them all being disgusted, some laughing, some booing. that’s what you made up in your head. no one was looking at you. no one besides her.
“hey.” ellie called, her hand pressing down on your shoulder, looking at you with care. why did you overthink like that? you looked around again to see that no one was staring. no one was laughing. no one paid attention. your eyes came back in meet with hers, breathing out heavily as a slow tug met up with the sides of her lips. “can i talk to you?”
you nodded.
she grabbed your wrist and you looked, noticing a tattoo that was now on the fore or her arm. of course she’d get something like that, she was so art driven, it made so much sense. bumping through the sea of people, you squeezed through each body while being tugged by the harsh grip of ellie’s hand, not knowing where she was taking you but allowing her to lead. she took you outside, the music now muted. your ears ringing from the absence of the loud noise you once were surrounded with— the cold night sky sticking to your skin and the lights of the city blooming against the cement and buildings.
she made sure that you both stood in an area that had less people, that was more quiet, somewhat secluded, standing in front of you and letting your wrist go, sliding them into her pants pockets.
“didn’t think you’d be here-“
“why did you ignore me?”
the question stung you like an arrow piercing through your heart. nothing could’ve prepared you from that question even though it was expected to be asked.
“i… i don’t know…” you sighed, eyes drifting away just how they did when you both sat on your dark blue comforter, the sounds of her pencil scribbling against the rough pages of her sketchbook.
“don’t. don’t fucking lie to me.” she was angry and she every right to be. you were her first to kiss. you were her first fuck, you opened a door of lust she had never thought to partake in. ever since that day, she feasted on the feeling you gave her, rolling her fingers against herself, touching her body, trying to mirror your actions. she’s been with other women, learning new things like how to use her mouth, her fingers, her words. just from those years apart, ellie was experienced but it felt flat. yeah the sex was okay but none of them were you. she wanted to feel that again. whatever that feeling way, whatever the effect you had on her she wanted it.
“look ellie im sorry.” you sighed.
“sorry?” she was baffled, scoffing at the lack of explanation. maybe there was a reason for you completely signaling her out of your life. she hoped that it was something worth it, something convincing, she’d even take a lie if you gave it well but all you said was sorry. inhaling the crips air felt like chemical fumes, dropping her head down seeing the rubble scatter on the sidewalk.
“i… don’t think i have much of a reason. i just did… it.” you admitted. hearing yourself out loud for the first time made you feel like all that time you spent ignoring ellie, forgetting her, building yourself in life was all crowded into a lie, a irrational lie. the life you could’ve had, the things you and her could’ve done, what could’ve happened was robbed by your own stupidity. “i guess… i guess it’s because i just couldn’t face you after what we did.”
ellie stared, watching your body as you shrivel up in shame, eyes looking front left to right not even daring to look at her.
“you mean, after we had sex?” her words coming out like a reality check. “i thought… i thought you wanted to… do… it.” she could feel her insides rot, remembering that one day. that one rainy day… that you both shared and thought it was mutual. she thought that started a new connection between you both, for you to have conjoined into one, into a place that no one on this earth was able to build but you and her. was she just overthinking this too? was this always one sided? was she just an experiment?
“i did!” you exclaimed, the words flaring out louder than you intended to, catching yourself, clearing your throat. “i did… i just. i was ashamed. not from you! just… i thought that being with a woman after was wrong… maybe i had been lying to myself when i thought i liked women. maybe i am straight. maybe-“
“bullshit.” ellie interrupted. “i remembered the way you looked at me. you wanted that just as much as i did. i could feel it and you could feel it too. you still do… don’t you? you can’t even look at me because you know it. you’re into women and you can’t even be kind enough to yourself to let that fact be so you lie instead. you run away and had me thinking that something was fucking wrong with me like i did something!”
you didn’t want to hear this. it was like your inner monologue screaming at you. all the bricks that you piled on top of it had escaped free, your true feelings in the voice of ellie’s. it was something you needed to hear. you didn’t want a boyfriend. you wanted ellie. those years of coming out to yourself in your youth wasnt all for nothing, it was purposeful. it had reason. why’d you let all that go after that one day.
you couldn’t forget. not anymore.
“i was scared.”
“of what?”
“i don’t know.” you finally look at her, your voice breaking after each word you spoke.
ellie’s chest heaved as she took a deep breath. she was confused but she could tell you were broken. she didn’t know what you were thinking and why something like this was so hard for you. ellie’s sexuality was never difficult for her to understand. she knew from the moment she was born she’d joke to herself. it was natural. her parents still loved her for it, her friends never judged her for it. of course, there were people who’d spat bitter words and baseless threats but something about ellie is that everything that made her as a person, she never let it hide in the dark.
looking at you, so uneasy and fragile like you could shatter at any second made her heart hurt. “tell me, do you regret it?”
“no.”
“don’t lie to me.”
your eyes feeling the need to water. you hated yourself at this moment. you hated that just from those few words ellie spoke that you made her feel that way. the way that you had dreamed about this woman, to all throw it away so abruptly just because all of a sudden, you’re ‘straight’. after coming to terms that you were lesbian years ago that that wasn’t the person you are today. why did you let yourself think that? why did you allow yourself to be tortured in that way.
“i would never lie to you.” you breathed.
“but you left me.”
if you could rewind time, you would. if you could come to your senses and just think logically for one second, you’d realize that running from your problems, your issues, your mind… your heart, would only cause you more pain than hiding in your own shadows.
silence filled the space between you with the distant chatter of people passing by and cars honking in the distance. she looked at you and you looked at her. you could feel the coldness of your bedroom and remember how the grey sky colored her skin with it’s light. you remember the sweater she wore, the color boxer briefs that hugged her hips and the way her hair loosely feathered against the sides of her face. the images of that day were bright as you looked into her eyes. her eyes of hurt.
you just couldn’t fucking forget.
“i wish i didn’t.” you confessed, almost like you were talking to yourself. like you were telling those negative thoughts to shut up and leave you alone.
your heart pounded so heavily against your chest. you swore that you could hear ellie’s too. each beat in sync with one another as the feelings you always felt were resurfacing again. you forgot about your boyfriend and this stupid club your friend invited you to.
“stay…”
“okay.”
•••
the unfamiliar walls of ellie’s apartment surrounded you. pictures of art placed against the creme colored walls, plant pots on end tables and the smell scented candles tickling your nose. your back was against her front door, her hands placed on the sides of your hips as she kissed you hungrily. the time spend apart built the rush of need— her lips open, tongue slipping through the entrance of your teeth while sucking on your own. her mouth was hot and her spit was sweet, feeling the suction of her lips wrap around your tongue.
a sigh escaped your airflow, humming out a sweet melody that gave ellie the okay to continue. this time, she didn’t seem unsure, locked up or stiff. she took the lead— however her lips moved you followed, wherever her fingers touched, you sunk into. it was these past three years, ellie learned how to touch.
her hands were strong, they griped your waist and if she did it any harder, it’d bruise you, thumbs digging into the skin of your slightly lifted shirt. she directed them up your body, grabbing onto your jaw, tilting it to the side, pressing her wet lips against your neck. with each kiss there was a deep inhale and a moaning exhale. your fingers gripped her shirt, pulling her body closer to yours which made you bump roughly against the door, her knee in between your legs.
“ride it.” she whispered into your neck, her tongue running alongside it before latching her lips and sucking onto it’s flesh. her teeth gliding gently it, causing you to wince in pleasure, “ride my knee.”
your hands interlocked with her hair, holding tightly between each finger, as you rocked your hips by her demand. her knee bumped firmly against your clothes clit, eliciting a moan to feather through your swollen lips.
“good girl.”
her voice held deep, and that tiny bit of praise was enough to make you want to leave everything behind. all that shame you thought was necessary was out the window, grinding down to grasp as much friction it’d allow you to have. to feel.
lifting her head with it inches away from yours, she watched you, eyes trailing down to your hips then your eyes. she watched how you reacted, your lips with how they sung her name in quiet breaths. her hands roamed your body, stopping at your breasts, squeezing them through your shirt, watching it bunch up and your stomach expose itself. she bit her bottom lip, humming a blissful hum, nodding her head.
“does this feel good?”
you hum in reply.
“no…” she breathed, “use… use your words. i… i want to hear you. does this feel good?” ellie repeated.
you suck a lump of air, swallowing it harshly, leaning your head back against the door. answering her question held so much weight. you hadn’t even felt this good since you fingered her and she wasn’t even touching you. dizzy and driven by her eyes and her voice. it filtered through your eardrums, burned through your chest, tingling all over and directing it straight to your clit.
“it feels… it feels so good.” your eyebrows furrow, your moans coming out more desperate than you ever imagine you’d let it. “it feels so good ellie. it feels so good. it feels so good.” letting her take you whole— the pleasure continuously rising with the movement of your hips turning rapid and irregular.
she continued to nod each time you told her it felt good, her grip tightening while fondling with your breast, moving her body so your knee was now in contact with her clothed clit through her jeans. your bodies were stuck to each others, swaying in repeated ruts while your eyes locked on each other’s, feeding of the pleasure you gave. you didn’t have to worry about being too loud, or being interrupted, you could let yourself go, you could be all ellie’s for the night and she could be all yours.
her fingers grabbed the end of your shirt, slipping it off your body as you did the same to her, seeing it blank opposed to when you marked it on that memorable day. her movements were frantic like at any second you wouldn’t be here, wanting to do everything and endure every second of your existence. she pressed her lips against your lips once again, kissing you down your body until she rested on her knees and her lips stopped at the band of your jeans. popping your button undone, she yanked them down, letting it fall down to your feet and you stepping out of them. her hands hold your waist, snaking it around until they held your ass, pressing needing kisses along your panty line.
“fuck you smell so good.” she groaned, inhaling after each kiss. the scent your body exuding, your arousal was tempting. her eyes look up, this expression far from how you’ve ever seen her look at you. you swore the paleness of her eyes darkened as lust overtook her. kneading your skin with her rough hands, pulling you closer to her face.
her teeth clasp at your panties elastic, pulling them down your thighs slowly, seeing the wet slick string down from your pussy to its cloth. no time was wasted before she ran her tongue flatly against your clit, finally able to indulge what you tasted like. your mouth hung open but no sound came out, you were in so much shock—holding your breath— you felt like if you made a sound, somehow you’d miss whatever she did next.
her dared not to stop, mouth hovering your pussy as she ate you like her life depended on it. you felt her lap your folds, flicking it against the bud of your exposed clit. her head moved up and down, jaw locked, concentrated on the muscle of her tone— nose bumping your clit, a mess painting her nose, mouth and chin. you couldn’t believe how good this felt, your stomach sunk in, each time you held your breath and when you couldn’t anymore, you let out a loud moaning cry— legs trembling at the sensation she gave you.
“take your bra off, play with your tits for me. make yourself feel good. i know you know how to do that.”
and that you did. you remembered when you touched hers, sucked them, pinched her nipple. what you did to her, you did to yourself after undoing the hook of your bra. the softness of your breasts molding against your fingers. nipples erect and the cold air of her apartment making them even harder, rolling them in between your fingers as you tug them, making your body jolt. your whole body burned. her fucking mouth was nothing you had ever felt before— mindlessly grinding onto it, fucking her face and feeling her tongue slip into your entrance bobbing her head in and out as she tightened her muscle.
“don’t stop ellie, please… keep fucking… me with your tongue.. please.” you struggled to whine. your words slurring and some being unable to understand but ellie had no business to stop. she wasn’t going to. she was going to fuck you and make forget about that silly little worry of yours. you weren’t straight, far from it. you needed to be touched by a woman who knew how to please you, how to fuck you. all she needed was her mouth and your own hands to prove that point.
you were close, your high inching closer as it closed in at your center. gasping sporadically, your chest rushed with a gust of wind, heaving up and down, stopping your hands from touching your breast and to the back of her head, pushing her closer — as if for a second, there was a slither of space between her face and your pussy. she hummed against you, the vibration shooting through you adding more pleasure you didn’t think you could have, your hips fucking her face as her tongue fucked you, her nose rubbing your clit.
“ellie im gonna… im cumming.” you announced, eyes squinting shut, your body leaning forward and your legs closing, pushing her away from you. she didn’t let that happen, she held you still, fingers digging into your thighs as she kept them apart, slurping and swallowing your cum as the flesh of your pussy continued to be inhaled by her mouth. your legs violently trembled, knees weakening, giving out as you started to slide down the door. your moans were loud, erratic but music to ellie’s ears. she knew you needed this. she definitely did, letting you ride your orgasm as long as you needed to.
she pressed peppering kisses against your wet, swollen clit, each one earning a flinch from you, trailing them off to your inner thighs—with a soft bite in between— running them up your stomach, then your chest and then your lips again. fingers wrapping around your neck, holding you still, making you taste the cum that lingered on her lips and tongue.
“you taste so good.” she whined, out of breath but content.
your lips didn’t stop moving, desperate for air, wrestling hers as you sucked them into your mouth before catch your breath in between. somehow, you made it from the door to her couch, your back planted on the cushion with her hovering over you. she looked too damn good in this angle. her exposed arms, holding more muscle that before, the ruggedness of her face that also looked so soft.
“ellie…” you called out, admiring her beauty that you missed so much you could cry.
“yes..?”
“i want to make you feel good too.”
a smirk resided on her lips, eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes and your body. god, how were you so goddamn perfect, it made her mad. you didn’t understand the affect you had on her. you didn’t understand the simple actions you made would turn her on. despite all the grief she held onto, she couldn’t stay mad at you, her body wouldn’t let it.
“yeah?” she replied, almost in a cocky manner. sitting up on her knees, she undid her jeans pulling them off one leg, too lazy and eager to take it off the other, “lick me.” she demanded, her body crawling to hover your face, sliding her underwear to the side just to see how wet she really was. it came as a surprise, you hadn’t been as wet as ellie had been, up until now and the time you first touched her. the mark on her underwear wasn’t just a spot, it was big and her clit poked through the fabric before she exposed it.
her hips leveled themselves over your face, fingers curling at the side of her underwear before allowing you to meet your lips with her clit. your hands met with her thighs, pulling her down closer as you finally got to taste her— her sweet slick that was better than anything in the world. an immediate moan swelled in her living room, grunting out as she sucked in air that made her abdomen flex.
you sucked her clit, with a part of the cloth from her underwear— that she tried desperately to move to its side— roughly rubbed against your lips. hallowing your cheeks, the flesh of her clit was sucked like a pulse.
“fuck your mouth. i love your fucking mouth.” she praised, her hips rolling against your face, using her other hand to lift your head from the couch, smothering you in between her legs. you could feel her clit twitch, her body jutting forward, letting out staggered moans. “god, i love fucking that pretty face of yours… such a good girl, suck my clit… come on, suck it.”
you enjoyed how vocal she was. she made sure you knew exactly what she wanted, what she like and how you made her feel. embarrassment burned your ears but in a way that made you feel pride. your thighs squeezing together as you thrust up into nothing. she started slow then increasingly it grew faster and faster. she used your face, her pussy grinding against your nose down to your chin— the outline creating pressure that massaged her, granting more praise.
“just like that… yeah.” looking down at you, she saw half your face disappear each upward thrust, the light showing the glistening slick as she thrusted back. “look at you… you missed this, didn’t you? missed my pussy? missed how it tasted?” you nodded underneath her. no hesitation. no shame. just the truth.
abruptly, she removed herself, standing up to finally take the other pant leg off and her underwear. she positioned herself at your thighs, raising one leg while draping her own over your other one. she looked down at your pussy, gathering spit, letting it string down, hitting your clit.
what was she about to do? your face followed everything.
hovering herself over your pussy, she pressed hers down on yours, clits touching. she pushed herself down, the weight of her sinking you down into the couch.
“fuck that’s hot ellie..” you gasped, sitting yourself up by your elbows, in awe at the scenery. moving her hips, she began to grind herself using you, your clits massaging each others as she ruts herself roughly, taking control of the speed.
“you like that?”
“i love it so fucking much.”
her hands holding onto your thigh to steady herself, the sound of both your slicks to bounce against the walls as she continued to fuck herself against you. each movement made your breast dance, colliding with each other. the feeling of her clit on top of yours made your eyes roll back, throwing your head as you felt your body tense up, arching your back. the room felt like it was on fire, both your body heat swelling in the room. she pressed her lips against your calf, her hips rotating with her started to pound herself against you.
“just… like that ellie.” each word breaking at each pound. you let yourself go slack, you leg flopping, letting yourself go for her, the pleasure of her being be the only thing you allowed to take control of you. grunting out, she couldn’t keep her eyes off you. every move you made, twitch you made, moan you sung, she took in, drank it, drowned in it.
moving herself, she opened your legs a bit more, squatting herself over you, placing her hand near her lips before spitting once again the rubbing it against her pussy. “hold you legs.” and you did.
pressing down once again, she placed both arms beside your hand, her core in meet with yours, slamming herself against you. this position made you feel more— you could feel how wet she was, how her clit twitched and slid against your slit. it drove you insane. the sound of your skin roared rhythmically each time you collided.
her face hovered yours, with you only in her sight, moaning with you. the pleasure of it all enveloped you both, your minds being fucked out as you gasp for each other’s attention, her merciless speed, feeling the collision and friction of her being you closer to your high. “don’t you fucking leave me again.” she grunted, leaning down just enough so your lips hungrily interlocked with each other. you held her face, pulling her closer, kissing her like you loved her… like you were in love with her.
yet again, her fingers wrap around your throat, removing her lips, pressing her forehead against yours.
“you’re mine.”
tears welted in your eyes. you so overwhelmed. she made you feel so good. she made you feel so pretty. you felt deserving of her touch even if you had made no attempt to talk to her. the connection between you two was always there. the lust that you held in your heart never disappeared. as much as you tried to let go, you swam right back to her and you never wanted to leave.
“im yours.” you moaned in reply.
she stopped her bounced and started to grind, the friction bringing you over the edge— she was so pretty, she was so mesmerizing. your eyes looked all over her face, the familiar need to cum washing over you as your body arched vigorously. the same feeling arose in ellie, her hips aching from the pace she went— arms snaking around her body as you hugged her close to your body, your face burying itself into her neck.
there, you both came together. each thrust followed with a shiver in her hips, feeling the wetness pool between you. the scent of sex, her cologne and your perfume was all that you came smell as you deeply inhaled while trying to catch your breath. as her hips stop, you both stayed there, holding each other, healing the wounds of your separation. her chests on top of yours, hearts beating in sync as if you were one.
“you okay..?” she asked her body rising as her hand cupped your cheek, her thumb stroking the dampness of your skin.
“more than okay.”
only thing is… how were you going to tell your boyfriend?
ellie with a gf who bites. randomly just gets the urge to chomp and just does it on ellie’s arm when you’re laying together or her shoulder when your face is pressed there. and she yelps like a damn cartoon character every time and acts like she was just fatally injured, pouting and yelling as if it’s the worst she’s ever felt. butttttt she never makes it stop
hii i hope you’re doing good and i love your writing sm!!!
i was wondering if you could write smth where reader has an attitude and ellie isnt having it so r mumbles smth like “then get rid of it” and ellie fucks the attitude out of reader w her strap🙈
hi love, tysm!! and ofc i can. enjoy!
warnings: mdni dirty talk, rough sex, hair pulling, daddy kink, ellie’s a brat tamer… hmmmm yea
—
You had been having an attitude all week. Truthfully, you were frustrated with… well, everything. But whenever Ellie would pester you about it, it just annoyed you even more.
“It’s nothing.” You’d grumble. But Ellie knew that it was obviously not nothing, because she knows her girl like the back of her hand.
Today, while you were sitting on the couch, Ellie came up and changed the channel — much to your disapproval.
“I was watching that,” You whine, narrowing your eyes at her. The brunette merely shrugs.
“Our show is coming on. It’s five.” She says. You throw your hands up.
“Seriously? You couldn’t ask me first?” You comment, rolling your eyes.
“What’s your problem? I mean, really.” She says. “You’ve had an attitude this entire week.”
“I have not had an attitude.”
“Jesus,” She mutters, tossing the remote to the side. “Fine, sure. Whatever.”
You stare at her as she gets up from the couch, presumably heading towards the bedroom.
“I haven’t!”
“You literally fucking have!” She exclaims. As she turns around, she hears your lowly voice.
“Then fucking get rid of it.”
At first, she halts, then turns on her heels. She cocks her head to the side.
“What’d you just say?” She asks.
You look off to the side, refusing to make eye contact with Ellie.
“I said get rid of it.”
—
Everything from earlier was a blur. You had no recollection of the way her stare hardened, the way her voice dropped an octave as she beckoned you to the room with nothing more then a “In. Now.”
Under her, you couldn’t even remember what you were mad about. It was like the thoughts in your head meddled together and disappeared with every stroke of her toy cock, with every thrust she made into your tight cunt.
“Fuck,” She groaned, messily pumping herself into you as she watched you cry out and arch underneath her.
You were babbling endlessly about how it was “too much,” to which Ellie clamps her hand over your mouth.
“Shut,” She grunts. Another thrust. “Up.”
The noises she was pulling out of you were insane — dirty, and so, so raw. And she relished in every second of it.
“You’re such a goddamn brat, y’know that?” She says through clenched teeth. “Huh?”
“Ellie—“ You whined, fingernails coming down on her arms, digging down into the flesh of her wrists.
“Answer me.” She hisses, thrusting so far into you that you jump. But her hold on you is strong; she was making sure that you weren’t going anywhere.
“Y-Yes!” You squealed. “Fuck— yes!”
Her hand balls up in your hair, pulling you back against the pillow so she could get the perfect view of your face.
“So fuckin’ slutty,” She mutters. “You gonna apologize for being a fuckin’ brat?”
“Y-Yeah—“
“Do it,” She grunts. “Tell me how sorry you are, and maybe I won’t fuck you into next week.”
A taunting chuckle escapes from her lips, green eyes flicking down to the way your mouth hung open in pleasure.
“Or maybe that’s what you want, huh?” She groans. “Want daddy to fuck you ‘til you can’t walk straight?”
You gasped, merely nodding your head. Your orgasm was close, and your mind was going foggy.
“Fucking say it,” Ellie grunts. “C’mon.”
“Yes, daddy,” You mewl, pussy clenching down hard as your eyes squeezed shut. “Pleasepleaseplease—“
“Fuuuck,” She drawls, pressing her face into your neck as she finds herself having to use more and more force to fully fuck herself past your grip. “Atta girl... so fucking good.”
౨ৎ ⋆ . dina doesn't know about you and ellies affair 𔘓
. part one ౨ৎ
❛ her tongue down your throat, her hands up your skirt.❜
♡. summary; binary minds are deficient when it comes to handling the rearing of a newborn child and the inbound spring, so, dina hired you. she trusts you with the surplus work, the garden, the barn, everything. unfortunately for her, lovers mate in spring, and with ellie slowly straying from her relationship– an illicit affair heeded by the eyes of every cracked wall in this farmhouse is begotten. don't get caught with ellies' fingers stuffed in your cunt, love. ୨♡୧
♡. cw; depictions of infidelity, homewrecking, risky sex, relationship issues, alcohol used to relieve sorrows, bit angsty, arguing, longing, guilt, tension (sexual + of irk), obsession, nearly caught in the act, clit stim(r, by fingers and oral-ish), cunnilingus(dina), fingering(dina), groping, ass grabbing, neck kisses, hair tugging, dom!ellie, painslut-ish!ellie, sub!reader, mentions of 'repulsion to food', needy ellie, smug ellie, ellies' a bit coercive, bold text is flashback dialogue, petnames; babe, baby, dirty girl (lmk if i missed anything)
♡. pairing; farm!ellie x farmhand!reader / adulterer!ellie x homewrecker!reader
♡.a/n; hope y'all like this introductory chapter to this very random series!! its only gonna get dirtier from here on tho..
✵ masterlist ✵ thank you 2 @inf3ct3dd 4 proofreading once again! ✵ WC; 6k
VOLUME ONE – The apple that tempts
Infidelity.
You had a firm idea of what to foretell working on your friend's farm. Grueling hours spent roasting beneath the light of nature, check. Hearing the squelch and squeeze of mud– and sheep shit– blob out from under your rain boots' rigid sole, check. Pat the back of a baby shrilling out the utmost eldritch screams to ever grace your ears because someone other than his mama is cradling him to their scruff, check.
That's all your mind bends to, is fixated on, the mundane. In contrary fashion, you may just be within your right to enact somnolence, supined in the family room so graciously lent to you. Shut–eye in a room sunbathed in the astral hues of lemon and amber, shining off your skin like a reflective boundary.
From winterscape to springside, you worked. For most hours until vesper dawned, every waking day. That barren barrows' handle came to know every bullet of sweat offered by your roughened glands, before it had only known one flavor.
Ellie's hands.
The hands of an auburnette who is a bit agitated by her wifes' irksome expectations and complaints as of late. Late being, the entirety of the new years' youth, January to April. Beginning of your stay to now.
All because of one evening, a sundown in December that set off their relationship– Apologies, set aflame. A slow burn that would only fully consummate the marriage when you plonked two feet on their bay oaken floor later on. That evening, the mental scars of Seattle would ache too hard and too loud– they clanged, a blaring knell. Smack dab right in the middle of lugging a load of hay in, the pent up bitterness just washed over her. A despair she could only wash back– with alcohol. Bitter versus bitter.
That scotch poured down her gullet easier than any attempts to hydrate herself during the day, much like the repulsion of food she suffers– via stress, and worse. Drowning her sorrows, she winched her butt up on one of those haystacks' just outside the barns' cracked doors. With the horizon void of sunlight, she assumed Dina was fast asleep. Assumed.
Ellie hadn't only done this once.
"Seriously Ellie, again?"
"It's just one drink–"
"You were supposed to get JJ ready for bed by–"
"Dina–"
"Are you gonna disappear into the woods like last–"
"No.." weakly said, weakly.
"Then tell me, why?"
"..."
"Speak to me Ellie, speak.."
Since she was too stubborn to speak then, Dina knew she'd need assistance. Psychologically and physically.
That's where you come in, joining Ellie on the vast flaxen corn acres.
'Until Ellie gets better,' promised Dina, broken voice hollowing through the janky radio intercom, 'you'll probably leave by summer.'
Oncomes a clement, thawed time of transition into springtime.
Ellie's practiced feet partner up in the field, tending to her own orders– shovel in hand, pungent muck burrowed in her nasal cavity. Nostrils cringe, she flipped her head the polar direction of such a stench, groaning. That's when she saw you in action, for the first time.
Pomegranate pupils sifted the length of your upright body, diving your arms up to the elbows into a basin of must and murk, hardly eclipsed by the hung laundry set to dry that morning. A view her eyes caught and held, placing her thumb on the edge of her lower lip. Lips then turned cloven, and a lukewarm breeze blew past. A sigh taken in your beauty, but a step taken towards her interest in you. The grip on her shovel subsides, a pluck to her heartstrings she felt, bruised toes that stung as she meandered through grassy pots and wolds on her way to you. Not much was spoken when you first began in the late–aged winter– snow pulped to a melt– only the utters of small talk and niceties guided by Dinas' conversations with you. So this, this strain of words you remember so clearly, was her true first impression that virgin spring day.
Wisped with a husky fry, "Dina makin' you do all the dirty work now?" was a quip, a pure quip.
You replied, "No– thought I'd just stick my hands in the laundry bucket for fun." with a matching jest.
An involuntary toothy smirk tugged to one side of her face, fluting her cheek into nasal wrinkles and sepia freckles nearly bursting from her skin. A smirk so jubilant– and far from platonic.
For a future affair was born.
An unexpected tryst. No where on your chore list was infidelity defined.
Oh, but how it made her cunt throb knowing she embarks a sin for you, with you?
And this sin– this sin in particular, is undeniably delectable.
Delectable is the crisp, nectary core you set your teeth into. Eggshell pearls sunk in a brittle apple, frangible to your jaw, the honey–esque notes melt on your taste buds and remind you of sweeter melodies. For sweetness will croak the moment adulteration coddles in the sodden crotch of your cotton panties.
The murder of love in April.
"So, how would you rate these apples?" asked Dina, stressing an emphasis in her pitch.
An unfurled cloth of cardinal red apples sit still upon the timbered dining table, splashed with a tint of gold nearing the stubby brown stems. Dina just brought them in from the backwoods orchard, a harvesting you specifically volunteered to carry out yourself– 'No, it's fine,' replied her, 'Just watch JJ for me, you've been working your ass off all day!' like the concerned mother she has become.
She slowly rotates an apple between her spindling digits, grazing her thumb over the dry flesh of it, "I wanna dip these in honey, like my sister used to. It's so fuckin' good, trust me." she states.
"Mhh," you bolt a pulp of apple down your gullet, "I believe you~"
A babble of vocals purls from under the brawn oak surface, engaging a rocking motion from her arm so disposed to soothe JJ, or else he might actually start banshee screeching.
"So, are these apples worthy of that–" she gestures the crispy delicacy in your direction, "–or are they sheep shit?"
"Whys' it up to my expertise?"
"Well," Dina smacks her tongue, tossing her head lightly, "you've got good taste, yeah?"
"And Ellie?"
"That girl can't even tell the difference between salted and unsalted," she quips, bearing a snarky grin, "and.. she's busy, mucking sheep shit."
An airy chuckle brushes off your lips, a breath tepid of those sweetly acidic globes. Yeah, these are pretty worthy.
"They're good."
An eased sigh enlightens her lungs, "Good, cause I'm not going another season with sub–par quality a–"
You jump at the impromptu creak of a door opening, veering your eyes to the backdoor. A certain auburn tuft cocks from the doors' rustic edge, next a set of fern eyes unveil and surge with the rest of her body, side–stepping out of the shutting doors' sway.
A face that discreetly made your heart pass a beat.
"Oh, Els, u're done already?" whisked Dina, speaking with breath softer than a petal.
"Yeah, 'ts not that hard." her leathered steps draw close as she whips around the table, sidiling onto the wooden chair adjacent to yours. The spokes grind as her weight slumps upon it, thighs splayed in a manspread.
"You got the outside too? Not just the–"
"Yes, Dina."
"And the stall–"
"Yes." she reiterates, tone bitter in grit.
"Okay." mumbled her flatly, setting the apple down with a gentle thud.
Rough.
A streak of elusory tension makes itself known after that thud, an awkward, stiff tint in the air. It's been this way for a week now. Dina would pressure Ellie to do this, do that, 'did you do it right?', which only made her standoff–ish and irked the oncoming hour. When the crescent moon hits the midnight sky, and you're held fondly by a woolen blanket– that's when Ellie would skulk from her shared room, plod down the rickety staircase and lurk near your door. Knock knock, her fist would patter against the door, call your name, and then await your answer.
In essence, this happens every night. Dusk to dawn. She plants her restless bottom on the opposite side of the sofa– a reasonable handful of inches from you, pops the cork off a whisky bottle, and peruses her emotions in the art form of sentiments, in hopes that you may pamper her up. Color her the martyr.
"Did you see the way she ran outside to make sure I actually herded all the sheep? It's like she doesn't fuckin' believe me anymore."
"Was she.. always like this?"
"No, ever since she caught me slacking off that one time with a drink, she– ugh."
"..."
"I just.. needed something to hold off the thoughts. It's been hard, y'know?"
"I get it."
"Don't want you to think m'not trying my best, I–"
"You're good, don't sweat it."
And at every florescent aurora, when moonlight dies ayont the horizon, a meek hour before Dina could awaken, she would leave. Naivety would strike you at the ends of these overnight rendezvous', for Ellie wanted to kiss you, so dearly– to engulf you with her tongue of starvation, so dismally– her heart would throb. A throb of debauchery, it drums, but remains swallowed deep in the cavity of her stomach. And you never knew.
She didn't even understand why these feelings had won over her heart– had won over Dina, her mind too frazzled to even comprehend. A lust not even discernable by science. 'There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'
Your kindness was her weakness.
"Anyways," Ellie clears her throat, raucous in the ugly quietude, "what're all these apples for?"
"For honey–dipping. Tommy and Jesse's parents are visiting for the weekend, remember?" her tone curls, inflicting the 'obviousness' to her words.
"Right, right– stupid of me to ask." she rasps sarcastically, rucking her brow line in offense.
"It's not– mmht," Dinas' lips smack wetly, a small grunt fumbling her protest, "you're good, just– we need to prepare, yeah?"
Ellie nods, "Yeah," and a nasally gust of air flakes from her open mouth– a timid reply, "d'you want me to clean up the house today?"
"It's fine."
"Are you s–"
"Babe, it's fine."
A nod jounces that rufescent mullet once more, aflame in a spilling sea of light– fluidal in the hyaline pane windows. It is patent that she was trying her best to leave no stone unturned, to appear inclined. She still loved Dina, right? Or was this just a covert way to paint the scene far from suspicious– to have you.
The desire to engulf you with her kiss of blue hot delirium.
Despite that fact– that nagging fact, right now, it manifests as something entirely smutty in comparison.
In your peripherals, a knobby comb of sun–baked digits snake atop your thighs, dull fingernails prod the plush of them, plentiful near to your crotch. Her hands, a mere fingerbreadth under the leg opening of your denim shorts.
Dina couldn't even espy this action, being that your chairs were already planted hugger–mugger side by side to begin with. No need to fret. A width so insignificant, Ellie only had to pivot her forearm in a circle to grope your thigh, not a nudge perked her shoulder.
Then her eyes give you that fucking look. That fucking side–glance.
The glance she forfeits bits of her dignity for.
She's been staring at you all day, everyday. In the garden, a set of eyes scrutinized. No, not some kind of stare that feels like lasers piercing your flesh– rather, a warm tingle. A stare that makes you feel achy in the hips. But, then again, maybe that's' just cause you have a thing for Ellie. Fuck. You can't help it. Not when she blatantly flirts with you on the job, whilst you're covered in actual shit or something. Smitten, she is. Tailgating you like a lost pup whenever Dina isn't around. She plays a bit, pokes at you, then flakes off. The usual.
Those lids, husking akin to pale first quarter moons surrounding her irises of juniper fauna. Those lashes, a semblance of caramel hazel striae swelling out of her puffy waterlines.
A sin so beautiful.
Underneath a gaze so soft was an appetite, a mean craving. Ellie would have you spread out like a whore if she could, dam up your hole with the same cock she fucks Dina with, squeeze out every rope of cum and let it taint her freshly mopped floors. Froth her spit into your cunt and suckle every sweet drop of your finish, wag her head like a madman so your folds would part and smear her cheeks nectareously. To have you deepthroat her dick coated in your slick and–
But alas, that's only a dream.
Her fingers squeeze with tender pressure, digging bulged trenches in your skin and calligraphing dented crescents, stung with fervor. Gnarled callouses, they scrape. Fuck number two.
"Hey, could you wash the dishes?" Dina snaps your fixation over, neutralizing that second of sexual tension, barely, "I'm gonna go wash JJ up, he really needs it." she hoists out of her seat with said baby in her arms, feigning grimace trailed by a giggle.
"M–Mhm–" a hum hitches awkwardly in your tense throat, peeling your leg away from her gripe, which traces cold, hiemal veins as her finger–pads drag off, dreadful to her.
It lingered like a phantom. Even when you trot away to the sink, fruit in–hand, the ghostly grip dwells– icy to your tepid quad. A pulsing mark you can't carve out.
Why do you still feel it?
The fore of your pelvis presses arrantly against the flat oak rim of the counter, dimpling the pockets of your denim overalls. You hear one hefty step after the other, thump– thump– thump.. up the stairwell, seating your mind on the confirmation that Dina was gone. And Ellie was with you, alone.
Knowing that, has you faint in the bones and pounding with vigor in the heart. Gulp it down, exhale, screw your eyes shut, keep it steady, ignore the hairs standing on your nape as two pupils lock on you, ignore the padded footsteps drawing in.
A scratchy linen rag is scrunched in your meek grip, soaked in the sudded water kept in the sinks' steel basin. You cruise the cloth in annular motions, taking gentle time to diminish each food–ridden blemish. It distracts you enough, just enough, to forget she was there. Waters of Lethe, draining your sense of 'person–permanence', so you might catch up with your breath. Or catch the breath that looms over your scruff.
"You see how deflective Dinas' being?" Ellie's husky cadence thrums near to your ear, jerking you to the core.
"F– mm, u'huh." you flub over syllables, fabric squeezing as you clench your grip.
She pays a hawk–eye to your trembled chest swelling in a jittery manner, tenderizing her tone, "Sorry if I spooked ya', I just– you know."
The porcelian plate in your pinned grasp shakes, tapping on the sinks' metal edge. You gulp once more, "Mhm– yeah.. I get it.." mumbled weakly– browbeaten, even more so with her body now mooching behind you.
"Don't even worry 'bout the dishes, c'mon–" she lightly glides her fingers under yours, deposing the plate from your loose hold.
Your skin freezes up, even when her toasty breath fans over your neck. A stifled hiss to pair, a seize of your limbs, frozen. You slip out just when her opposing arm slinks back– and slinks forward, planting on the small of your spine.
"Is this.. okay?" shuddered she, pawing her digits on the bend of your upper–hip.
You swore the amount of foamy spit you kept nervously scarfing would have your gut fermenting sickness at this point.
"Ellie.." you wince quietly, whirling around to face her, "– we can't just.."
"Why not?"
"Dina–"
"–s'not.. here," your words flow into hers, spurning whatever you had to say. She nudges you firmly in place, poised vis–à–vis, cupping your waist in her palms, "D'you want me to stop?"
Your heart screams no.
But remorse is a blight to the lining of your stomach, and it hails your attention.
Angel on your right, Devil on your left.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"No, Ellie.."
"Then can I kiss you?" Her facade quickly molts to a smug grin, those stupid dimples popping– god, those dimples. How can you resist those dimples.
A scoff trills from your throat, "Ah, I mean– I would love–"
On spur of moment, her hands skid the hillock of your rump, pulling and rutting the front of your hipbones into hers, shamelessly kneading your ass cheeks. Explains the pure cold bulbs shanking the chub meat, causing you to clench them tight.
"..that.."
"So.. yes?" She stumbles her face an inch from yours, tongue sleeking out to wetten her lips, "c'mon.." she croons.
As tempting as her lips were, the angel wins. Too risky.
"Mh–mm," you decline with a shake of your head, prying her grubby grips off your butt, "not here, not now."
Ellie just becks and downturns those bushy brows, spanning her arms out for you like a zombie, "Don't be a tease.."
"Seriously, Ellie– we cant.." you rewarn in a chimed whisper, shooing her away, "don't you have other shit to do?" You attempt to gauze up her needy behaviour, mousing back over to resume cleaning.
"Hmm, no.. otherwise I'd be doing it.." she evades your shoos and shirks up on your behind again, this time pressing her clammy hot body plumb into you and hoarding the crook of your neck as a seat for her chin, all with that dorky giggle.
This girl..
Water seeps under your nailbed, drowning in the stockpile of dishes filthily in need of washing– but, your brain just couldn't muster a flinch to your stagnant fingers, instead focusing on the damp opening that smacks at where your ear and neck meld, peppering velvety kisses there.
"Mhh–" another smooch rolls from her pucker, "we'll hear her coming– mmph–" the words vibrate densely on your scruff, pattened with a second kiss, "just wash those dishes, hm?"
The heap of slobber left by her slithering tongue peaking out to play chills on your skin, creeping your shoulder up to nuzzle her off, "God, do you get a kick out of distracting me?" scorned you.
"Mhm," despite your shoulder butting her, she cranes over the angular bend of it and sutures surplus kisses to your mid–jaw, crooning, "saw you in th' garden earlier," and gusting to your cheek.
"I'm well aware." you reply with a smidge of wit curling your lips, picking up one of the dishes.
"Mhmm, n' you know how pretty you are?"
"Yes– you like to remind me everyday when you get the chance, don't you?" Your act turns a bit smartass–ish, in reality, you're just trying to keep it cool. Highlight trying.
"Fuck," purred Ellie, foxily twisting her tongue in a tango on your cheekbone, and levys a tighter squeeze to your waist, "she's getting smart with me, oohh~"
Bitter mistake. Ellie fucking loves that.
Your fingers drudge along– bartering your time on each plate, four circles to the left, three vertical strokes on the rim, pivot the nozzle and rinse, set to dry. Like a cog in a machine, you carry on, blissfully unaware of whatever mischief has Ellie fleeing from your cheek– and meeting eye to eye with your ass.
Then, a balmy kiss sticks to your inner–thigh, dreadfully close to the rise of your crotch.
Startled, your optics dart down to descry the subtle movement of her rugged hands taking second rounds on your lower thigh– to cosset the malleable flesh, casting dim shadows where the chub bulged.
"What the f– Els!" you twine your leg, which proves ineffectual in her taut grasp.
"Callin' me Els out here? Fuck babe.."
"M' not– ugh!" you growl beneath your full tone, dramatically flapping your head in case Dina was magically there.
Her crouched knees embrace your calves genially, dragging the rough ridge of her jeans' seams on your skin. Tenderness, the tender care she holds you down with, kills you. It aches with that guilt of unmentionable cuckoldry, but in natural human nature, it also aches with a mushrooming arousal. Lips that burn a spot in your skin, toxifying your veins with lust– it streams, it grows, reaching your heart with a foretold appetency towards this flavor of sin. The throes of passion.
Forget the dishes.
"Hmph– mm, mmm." she whirs satisfaction in each nip planted, skulking closer and closer to your clothed cunt.
A hefty sigh displaces your words of complaint that wanted to retaliate, that wanted to repel her consumption of your body– but, at this point, the angel on your shoulder, has died. The plate tumbles from your grasp and splashes in the sink water, leaving you to bend rosy knuckles into the metallic frame.
Convinced, you were.
A blasphemous confession then scorches your ears, spreading to your cheeks.
"I w'nna eat ur' pussy, y–you'll let– fuck, lemme' eat your pussy? I'll be quick." a rushed splutter of a plead flicks specks of spit off her pouty peached lips, nearing a hungry demand, "Babe, please– m'wanna taste you." she paws at your hips, wringing up the denim.
Babe. Babe. Does she ever call Dina that anymore?
"Ellie–" you shiver, beads crawl up your spine and make you feel, vulnerable– but bothered by heat, "..be quick."
Green light given, her brain sparks, the stupidest grin of excitement flattening out that pout. A husky, "Good girl.." blows through the faint opening of your pantleg, brushing over the slight exposure of your labia– no thanks to thin–width panties.
A gasp holds in your chest, goosebumps raise and thighs stiffen with this swipe of air catching you off guard, a reeled, "Good.. girl?" hoves reluctantly from you.
"Yeah, my girl." oraled with an austere covet to her tone, cold and keen– the latter words emphasized.
You bat a clench to your quads in phase with a ticklish head of hair lodging between your thighs, smushing the plump of her cheeks with the friction created. Her lips pucker out and catch on your crotch, incisors hooking on a folded seam directly under your clit. If only– if only, she could tear your bottoms off conveniently. Wrong day to wear overalls.
"Oh'm god.. ghnn–" your folds stiffen up prompt to her hot mouth baking your bud, a pressure– she pushes and yanks, tugging on your clit. You can feel the sleek pooling right about now.
The world is then encompassed in fast motion once she slinks under the arch of your legs and settles her head between the cupboard and your groin, detaching her lips with a wet ring to mark it. Confident in her claim of 'being quick' her hands make easy work of your loose pantholes, shoving her hulky hand fully through the crotch cover, scissoring your sappy pussy lips apart and warping that beady little bud in lovable circles.
With your touch–starved cunt rutting back into her digits, she giggles, entertained by your sudden flux of pleasure relish, "Look at that, tellin' me you didn't want this all along? Haha–" her adams apple bops gently, "ur' funny."
A gasp hitches, "Ahh– u're annoying.."
"Bite me."
Her sense of sound asphyxiates in the muffled squelching of your folds, lathering the first quarter of her digits in a film of lubricant– globby as aloe gel. Faster, and faster, her veins pop. A labyrinth of blue rivers, prominent in each gyrate of her lithe wrist.
"Fuck you, Williams– ghh, fuck, 'need you now.." moaned with sotto voce, scratchy in your contempt grunt of her coercive fingers clasping your clit, lulling you to arousal. Your hand sinks down and rakes through those glossy chestnut locks, curling your hand into a lesser than gentle grip.
Ellie chokes up a grumble when you yank on her head, garnering a flinch up to glare at you. Not a flinch of pain, nor vexation, rather– getting turned on. A husky glare. That tug alone had her hormones swelling, rushing to her own inflamed pussy begging to be played with. Her hips buckle slightly, riding her engorged pussy against the rugged inseam that stood as the only source of stimulation– and it felt like the fucking seventh heaven.
"Ghhm–" she compresses her lips together, grousing in dulcet pain, "ouch~" and whined fakely to your grip, ditching her brows low as she canvasses the brain–fucked face you made while doing so.
You glimpse at her visage, dizzy noggin and soot–spotted vision egging the assumption that you'd done harm, "Shit– m'sorry–" babbled you.
"–Shh.." She mutters hoarsely, "go on, keep tuggin'." and manhandles your slippery clit with sloppy strokes, fingers fuzzy in the visuals.
"Oohh– my god," and so you tug, raising her scalp aloft harshly enough to jack her head back.
"Fuck, that's right," she grizzles, upper lip tugging, "hurts just right."
In return, her digits halt and begin to flick that bud with the motion of her whole hand adding on– only slightly constrained by your shorts. That girls' got strong hands.
You coil your hips back, the cord in your pelvis tightening with a bliss none of your on–hand, literally, fingers could ever provide. A whitecap moan sounds from you, "Uahhh–" and you chant, "keep goin'– keep.. k–keep, oh my god–"
She pipes her voice low and druggy, frying her chords, "Fuuckk," then her voice silkens, a high coo, "like when I play with ur' pussy, yeah?"
"Yes yes– huhh.."
"She get all wet f'me? Hmm? This, all for me?" her opposing hand inclines and feathers up your leg, fingers prodding the two valleys' around your labia and squeezing– all that nectar out.
"Mhm–" you nod briskly, "all for– y– ohh.."
"Good, baby.. good.."
The sin so beautiful. This was her leaping chance to lade her hungry tongue of your taste. Her lips wrinkle and purse, gulping the foamy spit that pools for you. To swap the placement of her tongue and fingers, is what she yearns for– right now. Can't you see how fucking bad she needs you? How she needs to make you hers.
The only annoyance to cross her on Gaia's green earth, was those shorts– creasing the hardy fabric with intention. The intention to seriously rip them off.
"Take ur' clothes off, c'mon– can't lick that pussy like this." she chuckles at her own quip, ushering you.
"Okay.. okay."
Amidst a haze of sensations slowly ebbing your ability to stand upright, you draw up a hand from her tousled locks and thumb at the zinc pin that fastened your overalls up. The bumpy underside of that button made to pop off easily– was not. That haze indeed made you hazy. How the fuck her fingers can make your pussy throb in pulses of rapture in a span of seconds, failed to spark musing.
Your fingers flip, shaking the strap around, "Els– El, Ellie.. it's not–"
Her free hand cranes up, humming a question, "Hmm? Want me to–"
Steady thumps resound in the walls behind you.
Dina.
"Fuck– god dammit," she pleats your panties flat in place and scrambles up from her squat, toiling her ankles in a scurried drag.
Two of your hands skip and gingerly clasp her jostling shoulders, guiding her up by a whisker– hovering your palms over, if anything. A stuttered, "Get up– get, shit, now!" wisps out in a hush.
Bonk!
The crown of her head clocks on the counters' edge and sends waves of pain like fluid, clogging her ears. Ellie scowls, "Shit! Fuckin' counter!" shutting her eyes and cringing in pain, freezing her teeth in a hiss.
"Ellie!" you scowl back, wrapping your arm under hers and hocking her up fully.
A wince further attests her pain, "Tss– hey– hey, my head! Shit.." She stumbles over flimsy feet and her palms topple flush to your collarbone, shifting her bumbling weight on you.
A whorl of footsteps strike the rounded corner, nosing out a certain sable–haired Dina from the rustic trim. Her earthy eyes scan and unearth the situation before her. Concern crafts amongst her faint freckles– nicks creased in her forehead, "Jeez, you two good?" a light chuckle fades off her words.
"Yeah, Ellie just– took a tumble," you vaguely explain, inching away from her hands timidly, which hesitantly drop to her sides.
Her verdant eyes droop and look– disappointed, briefly, before her mind catches on the facet of acting natural, because nothing totally just took place. Zilch.
Ellie withdraws and parks her bottom on the counters' edge, crossing her arms void of composure and swamps the floor with her sight of starkness. A reply, nor a peep, widened past her larynx.
"Well um, think y'could take a break from the sink and herd the sheep in? Last thing of the day, I swear," a chuckle ruffles from her rosy mauve lips, awkward grin hewed, "apologies for– makin' you do all–"
"Eh, it's fine," you parry her retorts, speaking kindly, "–that's what'chu brought me on for, isn't it?" a cock of your head, and she's smiling, less than awkwardly.
"Yeah, yeah.."
You steady up your feet and brush the invisible dust off your shoulders, antsing away from Ellie– who stood still in solitude, still– with a light tapping of your shoes striding you onwards to the back porch.
"Say good night to them for us, yeah?" shouted Dina with pep, who began to back away from the kitchen as well.
"Will do!"
The netted backdoor screeches, then clacks with a rackety warble, the colors painting your figure slowly amalgamating as you stroll further and further.
Ellie tuts her eyes fleetingly, poring over an ambling Dina. She stutters, coming absentminded out of her daydream– in specifics, about the whorrish event of minutes foregoing, "H–hey, wheres' JJ?" she wonders, digits fidgeting.
She slows her steps a shade, leaning weight onto her left foot sowed behind the right, "In his crib, why?" she kinks her voice in curiosity, body slanting into the dining rooms' evanescent illumination.
Ellie mumbles, chin to her plender gap, "Nothing, just– wondered."
And airy was the, "Okay." that gusted from her, staler than forgotten bread in the sun.
Chained thumps of padded steps recede around that corner once more, bearing an empty room for Ellie to marinate her ear–reddening thoughts in. A neutral quietude unknowing to the lewd leech that sticks to her brain. The cloth, the hem of her shirt she rolls between the pads of her thumb and index, the soft woven material– has her grasp feeling mislaid. That soft material one might deem soothing enough to weary bones, was far from the silkiness of your cunt. Her fingers grow pale as she presses, revolving a clumped bit of her hem in circles, how she did with your clit. A stifled sigh abandons her chest, caught in the mystery that is her obsession with that motion. Motion of pleasure. Just an inch away, a minute longer, and her fingers would have met that sappy, inviting, hottish hole that clenched for her.
Just a hairbreadth longer, and she would have tasted you.
It wasn't until the death of eve, floating passage into a darkly blanketed evenfall– that her tongue would enjoy the taste of somebody. Other than you.
"Wow, mmh– you haven't shown me this much passion in a while, Els." A moan so thick carries humidity to her ears, wetting Ellie up.
Her tongue has settled for Dina, escorted by loath.
Longing can drive someone to the strangest alleyways. The backdoor options for satiating a rumbling hunger only the essence of true desire can fulfill. Ellie, in perusal of that malnutrition so curtly birthed by the stolen opportunity of afternoon light, ends up projecting those filthy desires upon Dina, her 'true lover'.
"Fuckin' moan m'name.. mhhph–" her pursed lips muffle in the sleek velvet of her pussy, foliated in her precum.
She derived pleasure from playing with your pussy, so much.. that the touch of anything sodden and soft– or the spread of another cunt, evokes images of yours. Rather, it inspires the idea to pretend it is yours, not 'hers'.
A soiled up flannel clung to her perspired torso, the hem of it narrowly dangling over the curve of her bare ass, collar clumping up in crinkles as her body sticks flank to the bed. Her pores, weeping in the heat produced between open legs, pledges her skin that vividness. A vivid flare much like the sun. Her wrists, they flex. One pair of fingers dipped and spread Dinas' glossy folds with ease, tapping the gummy bump of her g–spot till it had her squirming. The other dyad of digits, curled and jammed in the valley her own pussy lips, rubbing with a sticky sound roundabout her clit. 'Your clit' she thinks, 'not hers' she asserts.
"Shit– Ellie.. m'gonna cum– agai– fuck!"
Her passion for you, led to a tumultuous amount of orgasms for Dina.
A guttural growl to her cunt bubbles up all the slick gathered at her cupids' bow, vibrating upon her beaten clit popped like a cherry in her mouth, "Fhmm–" her lips separate, a weave of slobber pulling, "all over my fingers, god– dirty girl."
"Uh' huh.. yes yes yes– shhhh–!"
Ellie dims her sight of the world around her, eyelids closing like two curtains. Lashes flit on her crotch as she dives her tongue back in, mildly wagging her head with the savored ministrations to her clit. Then, when Dina spurts her last surviving bit of energy into her mouth, coating that coral worm in 'your' cum, Ellie forgoes her own orgasm, thinking of you.
A gush of lush slick trickles from her quivering pussy lips, oiling the sheets with a buckle of her hips smashing into them. Fingers mix in the stream of her release and slap her happy clit down repeatedly, pushing grunts into Dina, "Mhh– hmhmm.. fhck!"
Her tongue– and her pussy, enjoys the taste of 'you'.
Dramatic respire shuts both of their bodies down– Dinas' arched legs more than satisfied to plop down on that bed, transferring muck sweat to cloth. Ellie oscillates her head, planting a tomato red cushion on the deflated life of her weary legs.
"Jeez–" a croupy chuckle erupts, Dina smacking her lips, "where did this Ellie go?"
"Hmph–" her chest bops in a hiccupy jerk, snorting at what's been voiced upon the space above– steeping within a lie.
Her paw laxes upon the greasy tuft of auburnette, gracing the mist–fucked cranium with a much deserved caressing, "Was this just t'get me sleepy– yaawnn.. cause it worked."
"Totally." she rasped.
"Well then–" Dina whips her leg over the body averse to scrambling off, letting her cheek drop to the sheets.
"Hey!"
"M'gonna sleep.."
"Pshh.." Ellie wrenches an offended visage, pasting her cheek off the sheets and army–crawling her slinky way up to Dinas' side, arm hooking a home on her waist. She foxily grumbles, "Can I kiss you?"
She veers her neck in a creepy turn, giving Ellie that 'really?' expression, "Uh, duh."
"Just askin',"
The kiss you refused to give her earlier.
Their lips connect in a skimpy peck, initiated by Dina no less, otherwise the kiss would have been.. doggish.
"There." and she rolls back, having nothing else to offer.
Ouch.
A somber pout blows those glossy puppy lips, vision tunneling on the bare nape that now faces her– with a tinge of hurt.
Unmet needs, they plague this girl. You, you you you. Her brain falls to you, and dies with the thought of your lips– both lips, as she coasts into the dream world. Won't you feed her hunger, solely rumbling for you? To quell her wants, with your easy love?
Guess they'll be quenched tomorrow. ౨ৎ
(pls lmk if u wanna be added to the perm list or series list, some mentions didnt work!)
taglist; @whore4abby @aouiaa @ellieslittlewhore @baumbii @tlougrl @mina-281 @beabeebrie @fleshunger @lurk1n9 @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @nicolicht @cosmikoo @xinyaya @sawaagyapong @reinersbigolboobies @brunettedolls-blog @syrenada @fairyysoiree @sakiigami @ilovaffles @Ellies-tatoo @iove-bbb @p4ison1vy @nil-eena @hi2647 @disaster-bi-suki @rarestdoll @narieater @hrtmal @eudaemoniaaaa @ellie-07063 @luvfaeri @carleenaelaine @kissyslut @ellieswh0r3 @beemillss @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @maleelee
a/n: no mentions of medic stuff this time bc i wanted reader to enjoy life outside of that. also i’m sorry for putting this off, i just wasn’t sure how i felt ab it </3 but here’s the final part !!
“Wow… you really do have the whole collection.” You murmur, lightly grazing your fingertips over the spines of Ellie’s comics.
It was the first time you had been to her house. Well… garage. She wasn’t exactly proud of it either, but it was homely.
“Pretty cool, huh?” She says, watching you. “I’ve probably read it about a dozen times already.”
You smiled, turning and looking at her over your shoulder. She shifts on her bed.
“Didn’t know you were a geek.”
“A- A geek?” She stutters, raising her eyebrows. “Wow, okay. Ouch.”
You both laughed, and you bit down on your lip. “It’s not a bad thing. Geeks are cute.”
You turned to look back at her bookshelf as Ellie’s face flushes. She knew you were flirting with her — it was obvious you were flirting with her — but she didn’t know what to do next.
“Mind if I read the second one while I’m here?” You ask, pulling the sandwiched comic out of its spot.
“Go for it,” She says, pulling her converse off her feet. “You can come sit over here. I mean — if, if you want.”
You grinned, spinning on your heel before plopping yourself on her bed. It was soft, and surprisingly comfy.
“Hey, this isn’t fair.”
“What?” She says, eyes widening.
“Your bed. It’s so nice,” You comment, looking up at her. “How do you just casually have the best bed, like, ever?”
The redhead laughs. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
“I’m not even kidding,” You sigh. “God. I could sleep here forever.”
As you turn the page and begin reading, Ellie can’t help but look over at you. You were inches away from her, on her bed, in her bedroom. And you said you wanted to sleep next to her. It felt surreal.
She swears she could probably die happy right about now.
About ten minutes pass, and Ellie clears her throat. “So, uh, how are you liking it so far?”
“It’s really good,” You say, still holding the book up. “I think I could get into this series… if you’ll let me, of course.”
“Y-Yeah,” She says quickly. “Yeah, of course. Uh, whenever you want.”
You smiled gently before looking over at her.
“Hey, Ellie?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask. “Or… boyfriend? Sorry. Should’ve asked.”
Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. “G-Girlfriend. And uh, no, not currently.”
“So you’re seeing someone?” You question.
“No— No, sorry. I meant… that I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh.” You say simply, before returning to the comic. Her head swarms as she tries to figure out your intentions.
Was that was your way of telling her you liked her? Shit, or were you just being friendly? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t wanna read into it wrong.
A few more minutes pass as she looks down at you. “Um… and you?”
“Huh?” You say, looking up from the book. “Me?”
“Y-Yeah. Do… you have someone?”
“No,” You say. “I’d be surprised if anyone even liked me. I mean… I’m not all that. But you? You get to go on patrol and look all badass and stuff.”
Ellie blushes, looking down at the ground. “You— you look good, too. Better. I meant… better.”
She wants to kick herself. Why does she sound so stupid when she wants to flirt back?
Nonetheless, you took the compliment with a smile. “Thanks, Ellie.”
Ellie gives a thin-lipped smile, desperately hoping she was better at putting her thoughts into words. And that she wasn’t a total dork.
The two of you had spent the next few hours in her room. The sun slowly began to lower in the sky, painting her window blinds a pale shade of gray. You had gone through two comics at most, as you had spent half of your time speaking to her instead of actually reading.
“Alright,” You nudged her knee. “It’s your turn to tell me a story.”
“Alright, alright.” She pauses. “I have a good one. It’s about my friend Jesse.”
“Okay. Shoot,” You reply, looking up at her.
You realized that you enjoyed watching her. More than anyone you had ever met.
There was a sparkle she got in her eyes when she was excited about something, and her nose would scrunch whenever she described something she didn’t like. It was cute and adorable and god, you wanted more of her.
“…And so while me and Dina were sledding, he slips and absolutely busts his ass.” At this point, Ellie’s smiling, making grand hand gestures as she explains.
“I’m talkin’ full on, face first into the fucking snow! It was hilarious, and—“
She notices your staring, and immediately clears her throat. “Uh... are— are you okay?”
“Yeah,” You say, pushing yourself up from the position you were laying in. You scoot closer, so you’re hovering over her face.
“Can I kiss you?” You ask, looking into her eyes. When you’re met with silence, you close your eyes, mentally scolding yourself.
“Sorry… was that awkward?” You cover your face with your hands. “That was awkward, wasn’t it? N-Nevermind. I swear I was listening—“
For a moment, you were worried that maybe you had come on too strong. That just as you began to make a new friend, you had pushed her away, in a rather embarrassing manner. But your fears dissipate when you feel the warmth of her hands on yours.
She peels your hands away from your face, holding them gently. Her fingers were nimble, and rather coarse, but her touch is near electrifying.
“Please,” She whispers, barely audible. And before you have the chance to lean in, her lips have already hit yours.
Ellie’s kiss is desperate; it was something she had been wanting to do since she had first met you. And inside, she’s ecstatic, because she never thought you’d ask her to.
Her lips are warm, and encompassing, and her breath is shallow against your face. She goes slowly as to burn this memory into her brain.
When the two of you pull away, it’s quiet. You were worried if maybe you had changed the dynamic too quickly, but then she speaks.
“I… I really wanted that.” She says softly. You smile, nodding.
“Yeah. Me too.”
You turn your head away in an attempt to ease the fluttering in your chest. Ellie’s eyes are still on you, and she reaches out to brush a stray piece of hair away from your neck.
Your eyes land on the comic cover, and you laugh halfheartedly.
“I, um, barely finished it.” You utter. “The book.”
“Oh,” She says, raising her brows. “You… you can take some more with you, if you want. So you can read them.”
You shrug, looking back over at her.
“Or maybe I can just come back over here.” You add. “So I can read them with you?”
Ellie’s heart skips a beat, and she quickly nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s— great.”
You got up from her bed, putting the comics back. When you turn around, you press your lips together, looking off to the side.
“One condition, though.”
“Hm?” She says, looking back over at you.
“I come over as your girlfriend… not your friend.” You say shyly. “It’s my only rule.”
Ellie grins, standing up from the bed as well. She approaches you slowly.
“Well… you’re leaving as my girlfriend… aren’t you?”
“Am I?” You smile coyly, putting your arms around her neck. “This your way of asking me out?”
Ellie nods, face flushed. She thought it was cute, and a little funny, that you had casually assumed she went around kissing people she wasn’t into. She considered herself way too much of a loser to accomplish something like that.
You giggle a bit.
“Okay, then. Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”
Her girlfriend. Her girl. Ellie can’t help but feel fuzzy at the thought of it.
It sounded good — it sounded right, rolling off of your tongue. She truly couldn’t wait to have you around her arm, walking with you around town.
Ellie doesn’t say anything else, merely smiles bashfully as you lean in to kiss her again.
And even though she couldn’t be sure of the future, she’s sure that in this moment, she wouldn’t wanna be with anyone else besides you.
jacobvanloon
stormborns
snowghoul
theartofmadeline
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