perfect girl | ellie williams.
tlou2 ellie williams x fem!reader. college modern au universe. word count 6.8k. proofread barely. part two here
ellie is the most known dealer on campus, and reader is a stuck up, bitchy, sorority girl. somehow ending up near each other at every party, despite constant fighting. this party is no different, at first
this is smut, 18+ only. included use of pet names, mean!ellie, mean!reader, name calling.. fingering r!receiving.. etc. its a bit filthy. i wrote when high
Honestly, you hated frat parties. The loud music, the humid air and noisy college students that all reaked of jungle juice and sweat. None of it appealed to you— you always left feeling dirty and with a headache. But being in the university’s biggest sorority meant it was sort of a needed appearance.
Even now, when you were stressed beyond belief over the three different exams on monday morning. You had still been dragged out by your sorority sisters with the promise of a great party.
It never was great though. Never.
Usually you found yourself shoo-ing off shirtless frat boys advances, cup in your hand that had a bit too much cheap vodka and too little juice. If you had to deal with these things, you may as well be tipsy enough for it.
Though, the alcohol never made you any less in control of yourself. Control was what you valued most, being able to easily keep yourself in check. Making sure your well taken care of clothes never crinkled, ensuring no piece of hair was out of place. This in turn usually meant you took the role of watching over your sorority sisters. Eyeing any boys who got too touchy when they were drunk, snapping at frat guys when they didn’t take a hint. cleaning their face of tears or sweat, reapplying their mascara or lip gloss when they couldn’t. Holding their drinks with your perfectly manicured hands when they needed to pee.
You didn’t judge them for how they acted, you knew they were just having fun. Sometimes you wish you could let go like that too, join in on their dances.. giggle loudly and flirt with boys with drunken courage. But you never did. You probably wouldn’t tonight, even when your friend Dina had taken the role of sober one of the group so you could try and have fun. You still just stood straight up and watched on.
You were untouchable, everyone knew it. You saw the way boys looked at you— like they were falling over themselves just for a chance you might talk to them. Girls whispered about you, whether it be good or bad.. you didn’t exactly care. You had been called a prissy bitch one too many times to truly give a shit what other twenty somethings had to say about your attitude. You enjoyed being something no one could reach. It made you feel powerful. You rarely gave anyone that wasn’t your friends the time of day at these things, and god did it drive people crazy.
You always positioned yourself somewhere like the drink table at every party, watching on as if it was a live show for you to consume. In some ways it was.. you were always a watcher, never involved. So looking on was usually your only source of fun at these things.
Tonight was no different— eyes steady on the large group of people dancing, more so falling over each other, in the center of the room. It was grossly humid, and the flashing lights hurt your eyes. Everyone was pressed too close together— far too big of a crowd for this tiny off campus fraternity.
You found a more open place between the scratchy and old couch and the pop up plastic table. It held half empty bottles and a punch bowl full of some concoction that made you shake your head at girls when they tried to take a cup.
You stand stiffly against the wall— refusing to sit, let alone lean against the couch next to you. You didn't even want to imagine how disgusting it was.. swearing it was a lighter shade of grey last time you were here. This choice of station however was opening yourself up to a night of pure torture from a particular presence that seemed to haunt every. fucking. frat party.
Ellie Williams. Right on cue she walked over, ignoring you as she plopped down onto the couch with a few of the frat boys. She opens a little bag and turns in to face them. Of course. Obviously the stoners would choose the couch as their designated spot for the night.
Even if she had not acknowledged you, you already were burning with annoyance. The orange lighting currently overhead painted you the same color your insides felt. A growing flame, dull and orange in the pit of your stomach.
Ellie was a usual attendee at these parties. But not with a group of friends or some sorority like a normal person. No, Ellie was the chosen dealer for most fraternities of the university.. meaning she almost always showed up to smoke and give out to stingy college students.
But god, you could not understand what made her the choice for these people. You found her utterly obnoxious. She was loud— had the mouth of a sailor, and was always making god awful jokes. She had no shame— outwardly talking to whoever she wanted however she wanted, flirting with girls no matter the situation. Because Ellie also referred to sit out on the side of the parties, it meant you unfortunately spent a lot of time around her. You heard every stupid joke, smelt every gross joint, watched every girl swoon over her atrocious flirting. It was miserable really.
And god did she love to annoy you. It was too easy. She had discovered that at the start of last spring semester, and since then, almost a year ago, had made it a fun game for her. It became routine — and you swore she did it on purpose. Found somewhere close to you, invaded your space, and made the party even worse. Ellie would never admit that though.
Tonight wasn’t different. You couldn’t avoid your eyes drifting to where she was collecting cash from a few frat guys, loudly laughing and making jokes about some Jurassic Park movie that a frat guy promised to put on the projector later.
“Nah, the second one is way better!” The frat boy, Josh from Sigma something-something (you didnt care to remember the names) argued.
Ellie quickly shook her head, and you noticed she was wearing that messy half up half down hairstyle you once told her looked dumb. “You fucking idiot, the first is way better! It's iconic and so are the dinosaurs in it!” she fights back, lightheartedly shoving Josh’s arm.
God, did she have to be so loud? It was already loud enough with the shitty music playing. You tuned out the rest of the conversation.. or attempted to. Ellie’s laugh made its way up and over the beat of the song playing. You looked over again, watching the way her head fell back. Even from here you could see the freckles on her face. The low colorful flashing lights of the room made them hard to see sometimes, though. Not that you cared.
Eventually, Josh and the three other boys got up and moved away from the couch— emptying the line of sight from you to Ellie. She caught your gaze before you could look away, and smiled that stupid cocky smile she always did.
“Need somethin’ princess?” Ellie questioned as she scooted to the seat closest to the edge you stood closest to. The name made you clench your fist tightly around the cup in your hands. She had adopted this nickname for you after commenting about 1200 times how you dressed and acted at these parties. ‘Stuck up princess’ she had called you after one particular comment. It stuck after that.
“Nope,” you popped the P, sipping at the vodka in your cup and refusing to meet her eyes again.
“You were staring.”
“Was not, you got my attention by being obnoxiously loud,” you bit back.
Ellie held her hands up in surrender, “Whatever you say.”
You scoffed, turning your nose up and looking at the center of the party again. Mentally you counted your friend group and where they all were in the crowd. One finger came to press a strand of hair back into your hairdo, and then press a hand to smooth your shirt. You just wanted to get through the next hour or two and get home to study.
You can hear the flick of a lighter next to you, and bite back a sigh. Ellie had been sitting here all of five minutes and had already resorted to smoking. Unsurprisingly.
When the smell soon invades the small space between you, and that flame of annoyance in your belly grows to a small blaze.
At first you ignore it, sniffing and rubbing your nose like it would make the smell disappear. You glance around the room, eyeing some particularly loud and annoying men who were whooping and hollering. Soon though, the smell became too much. You turned to face the couch.
“Ugh,” you make a noise of disgust, loud enough for Ellie to turn her head to you. You pair the sound with a (very dramatic) scrunched up nose. “You smell horrible.”
Ellie smiles in a lazy sort of way, legs spread comfortably on the couch and head leaned slightly to look at you. She makes it a point to blow the next puff from the joint straight at you— enjoying the way your hands come to swat away the smoke like it was poison. “S’ just weed princess.. can't hurt you.”
Your arms cross, and Ellie watches as they press against the pretty baby blue lace shirt you're wearing.. too clean, too soft for a party like this. “It can make me stink though, like I already pointed out. Some of us care about things like personal hygiene, Williams,” you argue, to which she whistles, adding a quiet, “damn, low blow..”
She sits up straighter, leaning forward to inspect you. Seeing the pretty skirt that falls to your mid thigh— Ellie doesn’t doubt even for a moment that the white fabric caught lingering stares of every horny drunk college boy in the room when you walked in with your group.
But here you were, choosing to insult her instead of entertaining a single one of them.
“What's the reason for stick up your ass tonight?” She asks, making your eyes roll.
“Oh screw you, I’m acting perfectly reasonably.”
Ellie actually laughed at that, loudly enough to make you turn your head in embarrassment. “The way you act with me is never reasonable actually, but tonight is extra bad. You look stiffer and didn’t even attempt to be civil.”
It annoyed you even more that she noticed the stress radiating off of you so easily. She always could— it made her even better at pulling on the threads of you that made you most annoyed. She knew how to get a rise out of you.
“It's absolutely none of your business, Ellie,” you snap. Maybe it was a little harsh for such a simple question, but the auburn haired girl beside you got that out of you easily.
“God, would it kill you to be a little less bitchy for one night?” her green eyes narrowed in at you and she took another puff of the joint. Your eyes followed as she tilted her head up to the ceiling to blow out the smoke.
“Fuck you,” you mumble.
“Fuck you too, princess.”
There's a moment of heavy silence between the two of you, lights flashing now between a deep blue and green. The toe of your shoe tapped into the wood of the floor, the repeated motion serving as a distraction from the annoyance that Ellie caused. Your mind falls back to the exams you have to study for tonight.
The distraction quickly ends when the voice you had come to recognize anywhere popped up again. “Can you chill out? I can hear your shoe tapping from here.”
You huff, biting the inside of your cheek. “Can you shut the hell up? Go back to your joint and leave me alone.”
Ellie just scoffs, mumbling something about you needing the smoke more than her.
You ignore it, but can't deny how your mind wanders to the comment. What would it be like to smoke? Would it take the edge off like everyone said? You had only tried once or twice before.. both at a small get together where you ended up having to sober up quickly to care for your drunken friends.
“Seriously,” Ellie says a bit louder. “Come sit and have a smoke.”
“Excuse me?” you look at her like she had suggested the two of you take your clothes off mid party. Or she had suddenly grown two heads. It would offend her, the clear disgust— if she didn’t know you so well.
“There's a huge group of drunk guys walking over right now-“ she pointed with one of her fingers to where they were passing some game of beer pong. “If you stay there you’ll just get more pissed off and strung up when they bump into you and shit.”
You eye the group, slightly annoyed that Ellie was again right about how you would react. You glance then at the couch, at the weird dark stain and uncomfortable looking material. “I'm not smoking. But if you want me to sit? Take off your sweatshirt.”
Now it was Ellie’s turn to ask, “Excuse me?”
You make a face at her, pointing to the gross couch. “I’m not sitting on that nasty couch. If you want me to sit? take off your sweatshirt and let me use that.”
You know it's a bratty request, and neither you or Ellie look away from each other for a moment, not knowing who was going to make the first move. You almost regret it, and then Ellie reaches to the bottom of her sweatshirt.
It sends some sort of shockwave through you when she pulls the material over her head. You convince yourself it's because you feel like you have won, gotten your way over the girl you hated. Definitely not because her undershirt rode up for a moment, or that her sleeve tattoo was now on display.
“You’re such a fucking bitch,” she says in a exasperated tone, but still lays the sweatshirt across the seat on next to her on the couch.
You smile sarcastically, “Mhm, thanks,” you move to the front of the couch, holding your skirt down as you sit on top of her sweater and press forward, sitting straight up so the back of your shirt doesn't hit the couch. You felt Ellie’s eyes on you, on the very large gap between you. “I can't infect you with something you know?” the auburn haired girl says a bit slowly.
“Haven’t I said it a million times? You smell bad.”
Ellie’s lip quirk into a smile and she doesn’t reply, placing the joint between her lips again and lighting it for another drag.
Just like she described, the group of college boys clambered over to the drink table, invading the corner you were just standing in to shout loudly and put the bottles wildly into cups. You cringe, shifting in your seat. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were glad Ellie had asked you to sit now.
The two of you didn’t talk, for a moment you watch Ellie’s freckled cheeks suck in slightly as she takes a drag, and watch her lips part to blow it out. Unable to tear your eyes away until a new voice comes from in front of you.
“Hey, Y/N right?” Ellie glances up for a split second before going back to looking uninterested in the boy trying to start conversation with you.
“Yep,” you answer plainly as you look at him. You recognized him in a blurry sort of way. His name started with an L… Lucas.. Leo.. La-
“Im Liam, from the last party,” he explains before you finish your train of thought. “Right, Liam.”
Liam bounces a bit on his heels, which embarrasses you. You fight the urge to curl your lip at the sight. “I was wondering if you wanted to go chill with a few of my friends and girls from your sorority upstairs? We’re gonna smoke and play games like seven minutes in heaven.”
Beside you it feels like someone has stiffened, but you ignore it. You let your face drop to look even more uninterested. “Seven minutes in heaven? Really? What are we? Fifteen?”
Liam flushes, clearing his throat to talk again. You just shake your head to stop him. “I don't smoke either so no thank you, Liam. Im good.”
The boy slumps a little. “Right. Maybe next time,” and then he turns on his heel and walks off.. looking like a dog with its tail between their legs.
Ellie chuckles, making that fire come back to your belly. You turn quickly— eyeing her. “What's funny, Williams?”
“He totally wanted to fuck you,” Ellie shrugs, watching until Liam disappears up the stairs.
You try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, picking at your painted nails to keep the blush from reaching your cheeks. “Fuck off.”
“Trust me, I know these guys. Every party one of them tries to get in your pants, and you turn them down every single time.”
Ellie looks smug as she says it— and you want to wipe the look off her fucking face. Acting like she knew something, like she could tell you more about what was happening than you could.
“You don’t know shit Ellie,” you argue, unable to bite back the slightly misplaced anger anymore, leaning forward. “Why do you even care? Are you obsessed with me or something? Not everyone wants to fuck everything that walks.”
The words have a bite to them, bitter on your tongue. Your chest’s rise and fall is speeding up as you finish speaking. You watch as Ellie’s eyes get darker in the light, the flashing lights stop into a solid red as some song with the color name begins.
“And why do you care who I fuck? hm? Maybe you do need to get laid by one of those guy’s falling all over you. Might make you a little less of a strung up bitch,” Ellie’s voice is harder now, aiming to displease you more so than before.
It works, the flame in you spilling over to a whole fucking house fire at the comment. Your hand instinctively grips your cup, reaches forward and dumps it all over Ellie’s chest.
Silence follows, and you immediately regret it.. knowing you took it too far. This quiet is uncomfortable enough to make you squirm, pressing further away from the wet patch growing on the cushion. Ellie looks at her shirt, very slowly raising her head to look dead at you.
“Get up.” It's not a question when she says it, harsher tone than she had ever used with you.
For once, you don’t immediately bite back. “Wha-“
“Get up. You just fucking dumped your drink on me, you can help me fix it,” Ellie demands again. She puts out the joint on the table nearby, messy enough to make you cringe.
You can't tell how red her face is because of the lights.. but you are sure she is fuming. The way she is stiff and slow with her movements to stand a clue enough.
That’s why you don't fight to scramble to your feet after her when she starts walking. Your fingers grip at the sweatshirt under you, holding it in your hand as she pushes past people to get to a room nearby. You follow quickly behind— watching curious eyes follow you chasing after the other. The red lights hide the growing blush on your cheeks, the music pounding in tandem with your heart.
When she pushes open a door, you squeeze in quickly after her.
Ellie’s tattooed arm reaches to the side of you where the doorknob is, and her fingers move to lock it. You swallow at the proximity, ducking away quickly.
She doesn’t speak as she peels the now wet shirt from her frame— throwing it on the floor near the bed. Your eyes don't look away as she does so. In fact, you can’t tear them away.
Her body is toned, more so than you would have expected. Not that you thought of her shirtless before or anything. Her fingers ghost gently over her own skin, wiping any extra wetness. Your pupils follow the way the digits move.
What doesn’t surprise you however, is the sports bra that lays beneath the shirt. It's snug against her skin, and you watch as she tugs it back into the right place. You watch her breathe, heavy and unsteady, a clear sign she is not exactly calm at the moment.
“You are such a fucking brat, you know that?” Her blazing eyes meet your own— and you almost shrink. This Ellie.. She was different. You are no longer burning with the anger her face usually ignites in you. No, this fire is all different.
“Oh cat got your tongue now, princess? for once you don't have a stuck up comment to make hm?” She steps closer to you, looking down to where her sweatshirt hangs from your fingertips.
“Put my sweatshirt back on me.”
The words make your mouth go slack, finally mustering up the courage to speak. “Fuck off, Ellie.”
“Im serious,” her hair is more messy now, strands falling in front of her face as she stares at you. “You made me take it off for you, so now you can put it back on me. Fair is fair, princess.”
“You can’t be serious,” you scoff, shaking your head at the suggestion.
“You do it or I go out there, tell the frat hosting that you’re a crazy bitch who spilt her drink on me. You and your sorority sisters would get blacklisted from every party before those pretty eyelashes could even blink.”
It's a threat. A threat to your power, the social standing within your group and the general university. A threat to your ego as a whole, the thought you would be the cause of something like that. It also was a quick reminder that no matter what you said to her at these parties, she was the one with the power. You could insult and poke at her all you wanted.. but Ellie was the one with half of the people out in that room down the hallway wrapped around her finger. Her.. business determined that.
You purse your lips, meeting the green eyes staring at you again. It's another fight for power. Seeing who will crack under the tension first. You find yourself noticing the freckles that dust her face again, and a small red mark on her cheek you had not really paid attention to before. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, and you look away in defeat.
Ellie knows she won, stepping even closer to you, enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of her. It does something to you that you wouldn’t like to admit, your knees going ever so slightly weak. She pushes a fallen strand of auburn hair back behind her ear while waiting for your next move.
It comes a second later, shuffling the sweatshirt in your hand to the right position, leaning forward to push the hoodie part over Ellie’s head, fingers shaking when they brush against her bare shoulder. You can't admit to yourself that it isn’t because of some annoyance that you were reacting like this. She helps a bit when you drag the sweatshirt down her chest by pushing her arms through the sleeves.
When it's finished, you both linger for a moment, your nails still near her waistline. It only ends when she steps back, gaze still set on you.
“You gonna say sorry?” she asks, eyebrow raising expectantly.
You shake your head. “Fuck. Off.”
Ellie tsks, watching your every movement. She didn’t ignore how your eyes had been all over her tonight, how you couldn’t look away when her shirt was off. And god, what would be a better way to win whatever this was than taking what she wanted from you.
“Cmon, you know I was right about what I said,” she steps around you and then forward, smiling as you continue to back away everytime she gets closer. when the back of your leg hits the bed, you stop. “You do need to get fucked, might make you a little less miserable to be around.”
Her voice has fallen more quiet, a little something new to the way she spoke.
“But you don’t want one of those dicks outside to do it, do you?” it's accusatory when it's said, enough to make you realize where this conversation was going.
God, you would never admit it out loud. not even to yourself. Everytime you avoided a guy’s advance to instead bicker with Ellie all night. The times you insulted her about something because it made you warm all over, like a certain hairstyle or shirt. You blamed her a lot for annoying you, for those jokes she makes— for how she bothers you. But in honesty, you just hated that you couldn’t look away. Not from her face, her hands, the way she smokes, or spreads her legs open when she sits. It’s absolutely infuriating how much you think of her. But you had always kept it deep enough to not think about it until she brought it up herself.
“No, that's why you always turn them down.. why you always look at me after you do. God, you don't even realize it do you?” A shocked sort of chuckle escaped her lips, like she couldn’t believe this realization either. Her finger moves to a strand of your hair that must have fallen while you chased after her.
“You want me. You want me to fuck you, don’t you princess? That's why you are always such a little priss, isn't it. Get you so hot and bothered you just can't help but be mean?”
When you don't answer, Ellie reaches forward quickly to grab your wrist, gaining your attention. “Answer me.”
“No- I don’t fucking want you Ellie,” you choke it out, like it burned your throat to say. It was worse than a shot of whatever they had outside this door.
“If you don’t want me, then walk away right now. But this is your only chance. No more after this. You can't get one of those asshole frat guys instead. No more entertaining the little arguments you start. No more ignoring when you stare at m-“
You can't even let her finish her words before you crash forward, meeting her lips in an immediately messy kiss. She swears against your lips before dropping your wrist, arms instead moving to your hips, pressing you flush against her body. You want to pull away, regain the control you so desperately cling to— want to run off and out of the party.
But once the kiss deepens, once her tongue swipes against your lips.. you’re a goner.
You whimper when she bites your bottom lip harshly, and she swallows the sound with another burning kiss. You pull her to fall back onto the bed with you, and she immediately manhandles you further onto the bed, taking position over you and not apologizing when your head slams roughly into the headboard.
“Asshole,” you whine, she digs her fingers into your hip to shut you up as her teeth drag down to your neck, wet kisses and small bites pressing there until she finds the spot that makes you shiver, hand slapping against her arm, pretty nails pressing into the skin.
She bites harder, pulling a louder yell from you. She then sucks over the spot, soothing it with another swipe of her tongue. The throbbing feeling will no doubt result in a mark— and Ellie seems to know exactly that.
“Everyone’s gonna know,” she mumbles against your skin as she sucks another spot, controlling your hips with one hand when they try to buck up.
“All those other girls are gonna know when you wake up with these littered all over your neck tomorrow-“ another bite. “Gonna know what happened, what the perfect little sorority girl did with me.”
The comment draws another noise from you, and the heat pools between your legs, embarrassingly turned on by the thought of that humiliation sure to follow walking out of this room later. You can feel your panties going damp when she doesn’t let up the assault on your neck and collarbone.
You can smell the weed on her when her head dips closer to you again, and for once you don’t mind it. You meet her lips, shaky hand still gripping at the inked skin of her arm.
She's so controlled in her movements, enjoying how you are already a squirmy mess, enjoying how she has control. It's nothing like the Ellie she was in public, loud and joking. No, she was completely serious and calculated with every single swipe of her finger, every movement of her lips. One hand roughly goes to your chest, pushing up your shirt above your breasts, not bothering to even do the kindness of taking it off all the way.
“Mm, no bra?” Ellie questions mockingly, pulling back from your wet lips— acting like she hadn’t noticed the lack of one the moment you turned to face her at this damn party.
You shake your head, reduced to little words.
Ellie watches you carefully, at your puffy lips, at the way your perfect hair is now falling in chunks against the pillow. God, what a sight. You, untouchable and pristine.. reduced to being fucked on a stranger’s bed in a frat house. By her.
“Want me to touch you here?” she questions, fingers ghosting over your nipples.. smiling when they pebble at the softest touch. Your back arches, searching for more skin to skin as you nod quickly.
“Nuh Uh- words, princess, need you to say it.”
You glance at her, one side of you fighting against this feeling of submission you can feel yourself falling into. In an act of defiance, your hand comes up and over her larger one, pressing it down against the skin of your breast, breathing out a moan instead of answering her question.
This however was a bad idea, and she immediately pulls completely back, quick to grab your face harshly between her palm. “You fucking brat,” Ellie seeths, your lips pressing open just slightly at how hard she is pressing her hand. The roughness only makes you wetter, and you attempt to squeeze your thighs together for some sort of friction.. but Ellie is faster, slotting a knee in between your legs as she looks down at you, free arm holding herself up.
“No, you don’t get anything from me, no relief for that throbbing feeling you have im sure,” she says it so cockily that you think you may melt into the sheets beneath you. “Not till you admit you want me. Admit you want me to touch you.”
Your face burns a bright red, angry and embarrassed at the same time. You tried to avoid this admittance, ready to die on the hill to protect your already bruised ego.
But then Ellie moves her knee slightly, a shock goes straight through your core. Even the smallest movement had you trying to push down against her needily. She squeezes your face harder. “Just say it, I can make you feel so much better if you just admit it.”
The line your dignity was tiptoeing on is fraying, taken over by the bowling ball amount of weight from the desire in your stomach. The second her knee moves again, the string breaks.
“Please,” you beg, watching as Ellie’s eyes light up at the words, “Ellie I want you to touch me.”
Ellie smiles, reveling in how embarrassed you look. “Where baby?”
You suck in a breath, too far gone to keep fighting, “my pussy, please, please Ellie.. need you to.”
You’re squirming all over now, whining and feeling your throat tighten. Your lip gloss is all over your (and Ellie’s for that matter) chin, and your shirt is still just pushed over your chest. It makes Ellie shake her head. “God, you look pathetic. What happened to you hm? Where’s that put together girl you love to brag about being?”
Any words to snap back die in your throat, her mean tone is making your mind too foggy. The way you are totally at the mercy of her body, of the way she talks to you.. It’s addicting. The feeling of letting go of that control and power you hold so tightly onto.. It's almost as good as the sensation of her knee starting to move more regularly against your center.
“You look like a whore,” she laughed meanly. You are sure it’s true, your skirt is falling down, your hair has snapped out of its tie. Her hand lets go of your chin, and you move your mouth slightly at the soreness. The freedom is short- lived however, and two fingers are tapping your cheek soon after.
“Open,” Ellie says, smiling when you do so immediately. “See, it's not hard to be a good girl.”
She sinks the two fingers into your waiting mouth, one quick demand to, “Suck,” is all you need to close your mouth around them.
You aren’t careful about it, drool seeping out the corner of your mouth when she starts thrusting the fingers in and out slightly, watching in amusement as she curls her long fingers slightly, making you gag. “So fucking messy,” she mumbles.
Her pupils are just as blown out as yours when she speaks again, pulling her fingers out after deeming they were wet enough. A line of spit follows, connecting to your lips.
She wipes the excess across your face, furthering that deep embarrassment that builds in you. “‘m gonna fuck you now, princess.”
She says it as she makes you sit up with her on the bed, arm pulling to set you up how she wanted, knees tucked under your thighs on each side of her lap. You let her push and tug you around— fully dumbed out for her at this point. Desperate for some relief.
her fingers play with your skirt for a moment, and you both watch intently as they disappear under it. You push into her, earning a quick look. “Be good,” the girl demands.
You stop your movements, mumbling something Ellie can't understand. The pad of her finger slides over your clothed slit— humming at the wet feeling.
“You’re fucking soaked,” she shook her head, “All from what? Cause I was mean to you? Just from my knee, baby? How pathetic.”
Another whine rips from your throat, head falling to her shoulder. She shrugs it to force your head up again. “Want ya to look at me while I do this,” she explains— green eyes now mostly black as they meet your own. You nod, trying to please her enough for the next move.
“Atta girl..” she praises.
Your panties are pushed to the side as she sinks a singular finger into you— both of you moaning at the feeling. You’re so warm and tight around her that she gets dizzy, a warmth pooling in between her own legs. But tonight, It was about you. It was about proving who had the control here.. who could make you feel so good.
“Fuck,” you blubber, not getting a chance to savor the feeling before shes moving it in and out quickly, and then she is adding another finger.. and a minute after that, another. It's stretching you so well, so perfectly that you swear you could come right there. But you don’t, eyes set on her own— a hard look on her face as she watches your reactions. She leans closer, wanting to hear every little breath, every whimper.
“What would they think, hm?” Ellie huffs, pressing further into you. “All those frat boys who eye you up at every party,” she adds with a particularly hard thrust. “What do you think they would say if they found out it was me you got up that pretty little skirt first?” She whispers against your ear. Each word is emphasized with a press of her fingers, each rougher.. deeper, than the last.
You can feel your cheeks burning, and you blink away the tears welling in your eyes. You can't help the reaction— it's too much. She’s too much. The feeling is stealing all coherent words and thoughts from your mind— making you a teary and whining mess.
It made a fire flick in Ellie’s lower stomach— knowing she was the cause of pristine, pretty, perfect you— looking so messy. So fucked out. All from just her fingers. From her words.
“Too dumb to answer?” she teases, “too drunk on my fingers to even say anything?”
You shake your head like it isn’t true, and she slows her hand. You shake, trying to thrust yourself down onto them.
“Tell me then princess, tell me none of them could fuck you like this. No one could get you this fucking pathetic other than me.”
Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks now, lip quivering as you search for more friction. “Please, please el,” you cry, “No one else no one else, just you-“
All of your words slur together, and your nails dig into Ellie’s shoulder enough to make her hiss. The answer seems good enough, and she resumes her quick and harsh movements, fingers curling to hit that spot that made your mouth fall open, tears dripping past your lips.
“Fuck yea, only me,” she groans, your words pushing her to make you come even more now, thumb rubbing against your clit. It coaxes downright pornographic noises from you. Ones that someone had to have heard. You don’t give a fuck though, not right now.
“M’ gonna come,” you whine, face falling to Ellie’s shoulder again, pressing your nose into the crook of her neck. This time Ellie allows it— too focused on the wet sounds of her fingers moving in and out of you under the now ruined skirt.
“Alright baby, you can come,” Ellie coos— finally showing a bit of kindness to you as you clench around her fingers. “Come for me, princess.”
The cord in your stomach snaps, and you have to bite at Ellie’s neck to stop from screaming. The orgasm hits you like a fucking train, shaking harshly.
Ellie works you through it, mumbling compliments against you. “So pretty, so messy and perfect for me,” she hums. When she is sure you have calmed down enough, she slowly pulls her fingers out, and then lays you back against the bed. You sink into the mattress, cheeks red and wet with tears. She admires you, messy fingers pressing to her own lips to get a taste. The flavor of you, god Ellie thinks she may be addicted. She sucks her fingers clean and for a moment debates ringing another orgasm out of you with her tongue. But the look on your face, how tired you look.. she decides to save it for another time.
For now she stands, searching around until she finds the attached bathroom, disappearing into it.
Your eyes search for her, feeling needy. “El-“ you whimper.
“I'm just getting a rag to clean you up baby,” she explains from the open door— and you relax when she walks back out with a warm small rag.
She joined you back on the bed, coaxing your legs open as she very carefully cleans you off. The friction makes more tears drop from your eyes.
“Aw princess,” she pouts— wiping with her other hand to get the tears off of your cheek and drool off your chin. “So pathetic looking.. so pretty.”
The switch between praise and degradation makes you dizzy again, eyes closing for a second.
When shes done cleaning you up, you grab her wrist when she tries to stand. “ w’nna make you feel good el,” you beg. It takes Ellie a moment to match your whiny voice to that of the girl she knew outside of this bedroom, but when she comes back to reality— she shakes her head.
“Later baby, promise. You’re too tired, wanna get you back to your place.”
The promise to not just abandon after this makes your heart twist in your chest, that cold front that Ellie put on while fucking you straying away now.
You nod, letting Ellie help you sit up.
“Ready to walk through that door?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow.
A tired laugh bubbles in your throat just at the thought, cheeks red all over again.
“Yea. Yea, I’ll just say we got into a fist fight.”
“Fucking brat.”
