warnings: nsfw, baking!!!, anniversary sex, established rls (married), wife!abby, top!abby, sub!reader, brat!reader, brat!tamer abby (? maybe if u squint idk), reader is fmab, fem!reader (described wearing lingerie + skimpy apron) fingering (r!receiving), abby grinding, clothed sex, NOT proofread i wrote ts at 4am
★ a/n: i did HELLA editing bc this was the original n i wasn't a fan, but i promised id finish it so here it is lmao.
MEN DNI
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"tastes so good, baby," abby praises as she swirled her tongue around two of her fingers. the sweet vanilla scent of frosting lingering on her breath.
the air in the kitchen is thick with the scent of macerating strawberries and the unspoken tension humming between the two of you. it's your three-year anniversary, and you can feel her gaze tracking every flex of your shoulders, but you don't give her the satisfaction of a glance. three years of marriage has taught you exactly which buttons to push, and right now, the baking is just a very distracting opening act.
the two of you had decided to spend the late morning baking anything and everything. you'd started with the most tedious dessert: a two-tiered, heart-shaped strawberry shortcake. you could feel abby's eyes glued to you, but you chose not to pay her any mind. this was your way of teasing her—with the little apron barely covering your ass and lacy pink lingerie to match, it was clear you had intentions other than just baking.
you reach for a handful of flour, letting the white powder sift slowly through your fingers.
"you’re awfully quiet, abby," you murmur, finally turning just enough to catch her expression.
you "accidentally" brush a streak of flour across your chest, right above the hem of the ridiculous apron. "usually, you’re the one telling me I’m doing the measurements wrong."
the only response is the soft, deliberate thud of the strawberry bowl hitting the counter behind you. then, you feel the heat of her before she even touches you.
abby steps up directly against your back, her front pressing flush against your spine. She doesn't say a word at first, just lets her hands slide slowly around your waist, her palms flat against your stomach as she pulls you back into her. her touch is possessive, her large, ridged, and blistered fingers digging into your hips with a feral grip.
she doesn't wait for you to turn. Instead, she pulls you even tighter against her as she finds the sensitive dip of your shoulder with her lips. the kisses are passionate and heavy, trailing a path of heat from your collarbone up to the hinge of your jaw. you can feel the sharp contrast of her cool, steady hands against your flour-warmed skin as they slide upward, tracing the lines of your ribs with a feral, possessive energy.
you lean back into her, your head falling onto her shoulder as you let out a shaky breath. your hands find hers on the marble counter, your fingers twitching with the need to touch her back, but she’s already a step ahead.
with a soft, smirky huff against your skin, abby begins to slide her own wedding ring off her finger. you watch through hooded eyes as the metal clicks softly against the stone when she sets it aside. she doesn't stop there; you feel the slight friction as she systematically removes the rest of her rings, the metal clicking softly as she clears her hands there is nothing but skin.
your breath hitches, caught in your throat, as she leans in from behind, her heat enveloping you before she even makes contact. you feel the jagged rhythm of her breathing against your shoulder just as she lets her hand slide down past your waist with a passionate haste.
abby's thick hands palm your clit, her touch firm and calloused against your skin. her fingers find your slit and instantly met your slick.
"i knew you wanted this, you're so predictable," abby scoffs cockily, circling your clit with an almost practiced rhythm. "playing innocent isn't your strong-suit, sweetheart. just tell me what you want, yeah?"
"i can't be that bad, i got you to fuck me, didn't i?-" you begin to taunt.
the words die in your throat as abby's girthy fingers ram inside of you. you press your front against the cold edge of the counter, using it for support against the sudden rush of pleasure. you can feel the frantic, heavy heat of abby's breath against your ear, her chest heaving against yours. she can feel the way your breath hitches, the way your body betrays your smug words, syncing up with her own frantic rhythm.
a low, shaky moan ripples out of you, vibrating against her neck as you lose the battle to stay smug. it's a soft, wrecked sound that gives everything away. abby catches the noise, her own breath hitching in response, and she presses even closer, her hands and hips accelerating in pace.
it hits both of you at once—a sudden, violent surge that makes your vision blur. you let out a wrecked, breathless cry against the cold counter as you peak, your body arching and trembling uncontrollably. at the same exact second, abby stifles a choked sound against your shoulder, her body tensing into yours as she shudders through her own release.
the silence in the kitchen is heavy, broken only by your ragged, syncing breaths. you're still slumped against the cold marble, but as your head clears, that familiar, bratty spark returns. you turn your head just enough to glance back at her, offering a weak but triumphant smirk against her shoulder.
with a slow, deliberate grace, she brings her fingers to her lips, licking them clean while her gaze stays locked on yours.
"like sugar on my tongue," she murmurs, her voice a low, dangerous vibration that buzzes through your chest.
you let out a shaky breath, leaning back into her. "you're so dramatic."
abby doesn’t argue. she just shifts, pressing herself flush against your back until there’s no space left between you and the cold counter. her arms wind around your waist, anchoring you as her breath finally levels out against your neck.
warnings: nsfw, slight fluff, abby anderson x fem reader, dom!abby, (idk if im gonna finish this i don't really like it but if u guys do i might pick it back up + sorry for inactivity hehe)
"tastes so good, baby," abby praises as she swirled her tongue around two of her fingers. the sweet vanilla scent of frosting lingering on her breath.
for your three-year-anniversary , you decided you didn't want much this year, and that spending quality time with your girlfriend would be more than enough. therefore, the two of you decided to spend the late morning baking anything and everything. you'd decided to start with the most tedious dessert, a two-tiered heart-shaped strawberry shortcake.
though it was supposed to be an activity for the two of you, you'd began to take over upon seeing abby using a liquid measuring cup for flour. abby didn't seem to care though, she found pleasure in eyeing you and every inch of your body in that cute lacy apron.
you could feel your girlfriends eyes glued to you, but you chose not to pay her any mind. this was your way of teasing her. with the little apron barely covering your ass with baby pink lingerie to match, it was clear you had intentions other than just baking with abby.
after mixing your cake batter together, you preheat the oven, your back to abby. you press the buttons, bending over slightly as you reach across the surface. suddenly, you feel a bulge against you. abby's cold hands softly but firmly grasping onto your waist. you turn your head slightly, looking behind you as if you weren't already familiar with the ridged and blisters of abby's rough and large hands.
"abby.." you whisper out, "the cake.."
"fuck the cake, baby. plus, it's just preheating, haven't even put it in yet." abby's hands start trailing along your body, moving up from your waist to your breast.
"don't start something you can't finish. it only takes like 15 minutes to heat up."
"you think i can't make you cum in 15 minutes?"
you open your mouth to answer, lips parting softly, but then cut off by abby's hand grasping your throat. she pulls you back onto her, putting just the right amount of pressure on all the right places.
𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: boredom is a cautionary tale that follows those most unsatisfied. you can’t deal with the lowscale shoots and the naggy directors, and ellie cant stand to capture anyone but you—maybe those are your fatal flaws, or maybe it helps your parallels blur into one bright click. a camera, a computer and two desperate lovers.
𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: model!you x aspiringphotographer!e, 3k wc, no use of y/n in this part, reader has hair long enough to slick back, slight mention of insecurity and financial issues, dual pov, Ellie and reader are locked in and synced up, pet names (babe, baby), Ellie lowkey has undiagnosed adhd, part one of two. Short n sweet <3 Smut in part two!
this is my formal apology for the very sexy but also very taxxing emotional rollercoaster i put you guys on last night .. much love!! it was such an honour to write with nini for this collab :p go check her out if you havent already!! shes the goat!!
READ PART TWO HERE .
Fluorescent white flashes that follow periodic clicks bore you to the earth's end.
The room is dull and cold, an industrial sized studio in the downtown area of Boston, you should’ve grown comfortable by now, but the light rigs and backdrops that surround you make it hard for you to settle all the way in.
The photographer's face is perpetually gray; soaked in boredom and an expression you can't quite read. There’s a few other people surrounding you, you aren't exactly sure what their roles are, besides a makeup artist waiting to spray you with faux sweat and re-curl your lashes between takes, and the other two models who await their next cue.
You’re shooting for a popular athletics brand, which usually wouldn't be a problem. In fact, it's quite the opposite, it's impeccable for your brand and even better for your wallet, but the vibe was entirely not yours.
Currently, you are the epitome of clean girl. Decked out in lululemon that doesn't quite fit with your hair slicked back so tightly that your head could probably double as a mirror. Your lips are lined with a sharp dark pink, and your eyebrows are gelled to perfection. It was excruciatingly vapid.
“Down just a little bit!” The photographer calls out, waving his hand down a little as you glance over your shoulder. You follow his instructions flawlessly, squatting deeper without complaint.
“Pop the back just a bit..” he trails off. You listen, once again. Your arms rest in front of you, and your feet sting at the weight of your body. Their current objective was to capture the detailed back of the sports bra you were wearing, with the band of your sweats just barely peaking into the frame.
“Sorry I'm just gonna—” the makeup artist, Diane, barely warns you before spritzing your back in more water. You flinch as it lands on the nape of your neck, sending an awkward chill down your spine. There’s another click, and another flash that you cannot see.
You arch your back farther, and swear you hear a crack when you do so. The director whispers a quote “perfect, stay just like that” into his camera before snapping a few more photos.
Click!
You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut as you await your next direction. Being here, soaked with cold water and a massive migraine from the stupid tight ponytail they pulled your hair into, well, it gave you no fulfillment. The creative direction, if any, was about as good as any other modern campaign.
Bland, minimalist, and for some reason very, very cold.
Ellie’s legs rest awkwardly in her chair, pulled up to her chest as she tries to fabricate comfortability. The light projecting from her monitor paints her face a burnished blue. It stings her eyes, but the blue-light spectacles you had purchased for her a few weeks ago lay untouched in your shared night table.
Her screen is filled with the complicated Adobe Lightroom, a gorgeous model filling the space where you, unfortunately, weren’t. The pictures are from a few days ago, a shoot she had booked for some store in the mall. She didn't yet have the luxury of turning down clients, so she just hummed and acted like this was portent to her. A few extra pictures in her portfolio would never hurt.
She clicked around the application with practiced boredom, selecting different lighting editors that made the girl less washed out, and hides her pores behind the amazing smoothing effect. She sighs, and rests her head on her hand.
She does a fine job making the girls look plump without complaint, but her true passion lies in the next tab over. A passion project the two of you started working on a few weeks ago overshadowed by the need for money. She sighs, clicking back into her original tab and continuing her work on this other girls arm hair.
Unfortunately for her, however, her focus remains limited. Her mind is elsewhere as she sends the first photo to her files and begins tweaking the second one. Usually, Ellie is the hard definition of a perfectionist, she approaches her work with great care, no matter how tedious the task may be. But right now, she couldn’t turn work mode on, she couldn’t even rip her mind away from you, nevermind turn on work mode.
The cursor slowly approaches the bar along the top of her screen, betraying her completely as it clicks down on the next tab. You fill her screen once again and she nearly melts. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the urban planet equivalent in the next tab, in fact, she was quite good, but you, you were far better. Maybe she was biased, or maybe she was just looking from a professional standpoint.
She smiles as she clicks around the photo, zooming in on certain points of you that needed editing, but not fixing. The black around your eyes reminds her of the time they had you in a grungier setting, something a little closer to home. You had snapped a picture of yourself and shot it directly to Ellie’s phone, with the text I look like cocaine Kate. And Ellie had replied with, A rockstar trapped in a supermodels body.
She snickers at the memory, falling back into her seat. She lets her eyes fall over every part of you. Again and again. Over and over.
Her peace is rudely interrupted by a text from…someone. Someone whose name and occupation she can't remember. They're inquiring on how far Ellie is from finished. She replied with a half true almost, and pulls her chair back in.
A snap back to reality or a wall in the way of true passion, whatever it was, Ellie wasn't particularly an enjoyer of any of it.
“Legs, give us legs!” The photographer yells, throwing his hands in the air. You turn to the side, popping your thighs out to create the image of more muscle than you actually had. You flash the camera a picture perfect smile, you’re sure they’ll edit your teeth once you're through.
You've been pulled out of your sweat suit and pushed into a pair of black leggings. Your grey sports bra was replaced with a similar one in a different colour. The leggings are skin tight, hugging your ass semi-perfectly and wrapping around every muscle like it was their job, well...it was.
You shift your body, pulling your legs back in. You raise your arms over your head, crossing your hands together to feign a stretch. You smile again, a camera click follows.
You usually weren't the type to reach for a pair of leggings in the morning, but money is money, and you were in no shape or form deep enough into your career to be picky with jobs.
Click after click after click, you switch from pose to pose effortlessly, and fake emotion like it’s second nature. Because truly, it is. Modeling has always been less than hard, a few photographers you’ve worked for called it pure talent. You weren't sure you could agree. Even Ellie had made passive comments on how it was definitely your thing, and how you did it like no other could. You smile.
“Tone it down, love. That smile makes your eyes crinkle.” He shouts. You scoff, but do as he says.
“Yup, just like that.”
“Flex your butt more!”
“Suck in!”
“Perfect!”
Every word is a contradiction of the last, at least through your ears it is. You sigh, and drop down into your next pose. Part of you, no, all of you wishes you were doing something more meaningful. Something more creative, with someone less pushy. You think back to the photoshoot with Ellie from a couple of days ago. The one that had meaning and sparked interest within you, the one that made you excited to get up and go to work.
Frustration builds beneath the surface, travelling through your body with less effort than it takes for you to change your pose again. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, and suddenly you don't like it.
“Just one more—”
“Actually—can I get a bathroom break, please?” You interrupt. You bend your knees and balance your arms on them in hopes of maybe releasing your back of the large knot in the middle of it.
“Yeah, she needs a touch up.” Your makeup artist persists, leaning in to pull you out of the spotlight.
You can tell the photographer, Matt, is deeply annoyed, but he allows for it anyway. “Alright, fine. Callie, Jackie—up here.” He directs the two other girls.
You sigh, jogging out of the way.
“You okay?” Diane asks, beating a bit of extra blush into your face. She spreads in the zone above your eyes brows and over the bridge of your nose to mimic the look of intense exercise. Part of you thinks maybe you should just go for a run in between shoots, to get some fresh air while also using these clothes for their intended purpose.
“Just peachy.” You snicker, playing with your fingers in your lap.
“This isn't it for you, babe. ” she says, pulling the brush away from your face. You slide your phone from the bag at your side. You’re behind the scenes now, it’s barely warmer.
You ignore the goosebumps that appear on your arms and back as you open your device up to Ellie’s contact.
You: miss u babe. This shit sucks without you :(
Ellie: you got it baby. I love you.
She shuts her phone off before you can reply, she knew you were probably sending quick updates between shoots, and didn't have the time to reply to her again, so there was no reason for her to keep interrupting her flow in order to wait for a reply.
Except, there wasn't really a flow.
She had struggled to complete the first picture of the other model, barely struggling through the very repetitive and downright easy process simply because her brain couldn’t do it. She debates popping a vyvanse for dramatic effect, but that’s a last resort type of thing.
Her uninterest is definitely holding her back from something great. It's been almost two hours since she finished the first picture and she has zero motivation to embark upon the second. She’s also got about eight more to tinker with before she can even justify taking a break. Hell, she practically has to force herself to even look up at the screen.
She clicks around for a few more minutes, playing with the lighting and the skin texture of the girl on screen. She fiddles with the colour of her lipgloss and the shadows that are a tad too dark. But, she's never fully satisfied.
Truthfully, she's pathologically uninterested in what this job has to offer, and would much rather be on the next tab over, playing with the gorgeous photo of you that she’d taken just a few days ago.
She groans, running a clamp hand down the soft skin of her face. One more time, she mutters under her breath, before moving the cursor into the top corner of the screen.
Her spirits are immediately lifted when the photo of you graces her screen. She's sure you do magic, or have hired someone who is capable of doing so to put some kind of hex on her. Or maybe, she just loves you.
Your hair was wrapped up into those scratchy hair rollers one would find in their grandmother's drawer, ones that you two hunted for at four different dollar stores. The process of installing them was about as convoluted as it could get, the both of you weren't exactly pros at cheap hair curlers, and when you put two idiots together it doesn't end well. She remembers bringing this up to you in the form of a joke, the blind leading the blind, she had chuckled. Two negatives make a positive. You retorted.
Your face was caked in over dramatic makeup. There was blue pigment covering the lids of your eyes, and a dark wing flying out to the temple of your face. Loud black eyelashes rest over your own natural ones and dark pencil liner that cannot be good for you lines your waterline. Your lips are lined and glossed with a reddish brown shade that Ellie does not know the name of and your cheeks are pinked and rosy with the help of some compact Ellie saw in the drawer. Ellie never had the hand for makeup, so she watched in awe as you explained every step and its purpose. She kissed you supportively whenever it was most inconvenient.
The background of the photo is by far the least interesting piece to her. You're laying across the floor, clothes strewn all over the carpet around you, while your fingers toy with the cord of an older phone the two of you found for six bucks at the thrift. The cashier laughed and reminded you that it didn't work, you told her that part didn’t matter, Ellie paid.
She chuckles, a rosy pink blush appearing on the apples of her cheeks. Similarly to yours in the photo only hers was less manufactured.
Her fingers click around the keyboard, and suddenly the photo is the smallest bit brighter. Then, she adds a grainy noise effect to make it look less like an ad for the newest iPhone and more like an excerpt from an older magazine. She gets rid of any loose hairs and perfects the pink on your cheeks.
This was her passion, not some random girl thrown at her like bait. You are her passion.
The last outfit change occurred just a few minutes prior. Now, you're arguably showing more skin than ever, you were the coldest you’ve ever been.
Now, your legs are wrapped in nothing but black mini shirts, and your nipples fight to poke through the navy blue tank top that “covers” your chest. Your hair has been taken down, washed and squashed beneath a pair of headphones. You're again coated in fake sweat and pretending to stretch.
It's ritualistic. The room is awkwardly silent while you fake physical activity and breathe a little too hard. Diane has brushed something red on your chest to once again manipulate the audience into thinking you’re deep into your everyday routine, and beads of cold water drip down your face and chest.
You thank god that your face isn't too bad in terms of makeup, and pray that you're almost finished.
“Okay! One last pose for me darling!” Matt yells, his British accent dripping with support. You know he’s a good guy, he's just—passionate. “Lift your leg behind you—yeah, like that—and then grab it.” He demonstrates the exact stretch he wants you to conjure, and you obey.
Click!
You shift your expression to a basic smile.
Click!
You turn your face to the camera, but move your eyes beside it. You make awkward eye contact with Jackie and try not to laugh.
Click!
“Okay! That’s perfect! That’s a wrap!” He yells, you waste no time running off the backdrop. He waves his hand around at the other girls and explains something you can't quite comprehend with the amount of urgency in your steps.
“Using those clothes for their intended purpose, huh?” Callie laughs, following behind you. You chuckle, holding the door open as the three of you shuffle into the makeup room.
Fortunately for you, your hair had already been taken down and your face scrubbed of most of its chemicals between your last shoot and the one before. You quickly strip yourself of the shorts and tank top, folding them and neatly placing them onto the clothes rack adjacent the makeup tables.
Callie and Jackie, who you’re pretty sure are dating on the down low strike up conversation immediately. They throw playful insults back and and forth for a while, there's underlying tension that has you speeding up your movements.
You're slipping your earbuds in and pulling your bag over your shoulder when one of them calls your name.
You turn quickly, eyes wide with confusion.
“You okay?” Jackie—the ginger with the longest lashes you’ve ever seen, inquires. The other one turns her head, nodding as her peer approaches you. The duo are comically sweet, with the kind of inviting energy you only see strippers or couples looking for a third. You stifle a laugh at your own joke.
“Uhh—yes, I'm good. Just extremely tired…and missing my girl.” You soft launch the idea, peering in between them as the word girlfriend drips from your tongue like bait. The two of them nod, that knowing nod.
“We shouldn’t stop you then.” Callie adds, pulling her socks over her feet. Her tattooed fingers moving to grab her things and the hand of the bashful ginger. They made a good couple. Powercouple, you thought.
“Well, I wont keep you guys either..” you chuckle, and Callie winks.
You bid them a gentle goodbye, and a false promise to keep in touch before quietly slipping out the door of the studio. Don't see Matt a final time before you leave and it almost convinces you to believe in luck.
You pull your phone out at the bus stop, sending Ellie one final text.
You: On my way! home
Ellie's already over it when you text her, Ellie’s been over it for a long while yet. The photos of her last model are long discarded, her screen now filled with the final picture of you taken. She had managed to edit and upload every picture taken of you in the time she couldn’t even do one of this other girl.
Ellie: see you soon baby
She sighs, falling back into her chair. It creaks when her back collides with the leather. She can practically feel her eye bags appearing beneath her eyes, and the wrinkles settling into her forehead.
She's about to roll out of the chair and shove herself into bed when the lightbulb above her head flickers on. She has an idea.
She quickly leans forward, closing all her tabs, not including the one of you, and clicking her monitor off. She waits for the screen to turn black before she stands. She stretches her arms above her head before stepping out from the space between the chair and the desk, she hasn’t stood up in way too long.
She smirks to herself as she grabs her camera from its place on her desk, strips, and turns off the light.
warnings: nsfw, mentions of weed, top!ellie, mentions of weed, reader is fmab, fem!reader (nicknames like princess, angel, baby, prob more?) eating out + fingering (r!receiving), praise kink, not proofread (lowk wrote this geeked)
MEN DNI
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imagining dealer!ellie offering an extra discount for you, though you're still short on cash. and you are each time you buy from her. ellie may have brain fog with a side of dead brain cells, but she wasn't dumb. this had been your third time meeting her, and each time you didn't have enough to pay her. and ellie's prices stayed the same. in fact, she adjusted them for you.
"it'll be $20 this time, sweetheart." ellie breathes, exhaling a thick fog of smoke from her blunt.
you look down, fiddling nervously and avoiding eye contact. the same old routine. the next step is to look up slowly with your big doe eyes and softly say, "oh.. i'm a little short this time. sorry, is that okay? i'm missing $10."
normally, ellie cave and say, "that's more than okay, just this once, though." however, tonight, ellie decided she wasn't gonna let it slide. "actually, angel, i'm going to need you to come up with a way to pay up," she leans in, lowering her voice and hardening her usual soft expression.
as ellie approached you, you take a step back, feeling a cold brick wall stoic behind you. "but, i already told you.. $10 is all i have."
ellie grabs your chin and forces your eyes to lock with hers. "hmm.. that's too bad," she teases sarcastically, "but has anyone ever told you money isn't the only way to pay?" her eyes have now began trailing down your body, your shorts and thin sweater leaving little to the imagination.
you nod nervously, as if this isn't what you'd planned for from the beginning.
"don't shy away from me now. especially not when you wanted this."
"how.. how'd you know?"
"i'm smarter than i look, baby," ellie leaned in, the faint smell of weed on her breath.
holding eye contact with you ellie takes a long drag from her blunt, only to close her eyes when she leans in to give you a shotgun kiss. the smoke transfers from her mouth to yours in a sloppy, yet slow and controlled kiss. once you pull away, you exhale softly, heart pounding a mile a minute.
"so.. there's your sample. are you buying from me or not?" ellie teases with a shit-eating grin on her face, knowing she means more than just the bud sample.
you quickly answer her question by leaning in once more to deepen the kiss. ellie wastes no time, ditching the blunt and sliding her hands down to the rim of your shorts. pulling them down in a swift motion, she brings herself with them and gets on her knees against the cold concrete.
your breath hitches as she maintains eye contact with you, dragging her tongue along your entrance. "shit.. you're already soaking," ellie chuckles softly but still cocky, causing you to whimper slightly and attempt to close your legs like a puppy with your tail between your legs. "hey." ellie grunts sternly. "what'd i say about getting shy on me, princess, hm?" you open them back up, granting the auburn haired girl easy access once more.
ellie reaches her hand up and shoves two fingers into your mouth. "suck." as she pushes them in and further back, you sloppily gag on them, making a mess all around her hand and your mouth. when she finally takes them out with a "pop!" sound escaping, she praises, "good girl." being fond of her approval, a small wet drop glides down your leg.
taking this as her sign that you're nice and ready for her, ellie pushes two digits in, her eyes locked on your cunt. you moan softly and your chest begins to pick up the pace, breathing faster.
as she pushes deeper and deeper inside of you, her tongue meets your clit, giving both you and ellie twice the pleasure and she groans into the wet slick she's created.
"holy f- fuck.." you breathe out.
"y'like that, baby?" ellie muffles out, tongue twisting around your ball of pleasure.
it all becomes too much. the dark alleyway anyone could walk down. ellie on her knees fucking you with both her fingers and tongue. the lingering smell of weed. the pleasure. the praise. you lean your head back against the cold brick wall, shutting your eyes and grabbing her chestnut hair and riding her to your climax.
as you grind against her faster and faster, ellie, too, picks up the pace. your mouth gapes open making lewd sounds, no longer caring who sees or hears. for all you care about is this moment. all it takes is one breathy, nasty, muffled "cum for me" from ellie before you completely lose yourself and all control.
her fingers and tongue continue moving but slow down in pace to help you ride out your high. before coming up from her knees, ellie helps you pull your clothes back up, and then plants a long kiss on your lips.
"don't worry about bringing any cash from now on, baby."
make sure to comment on my pinned post to be on my ellie taglist! <33
tags: dealer!ellie x reader, angsty, sfw, obv mentions of weed, fem reader, nicknames like princess, babe, etc
a/n: this is NOTTT finished and not proofread but i've been MIA so long n i wanted to give u guys something so i hope u enjoy for now!
MEN DNI
the air was cold and heavy as you waited in the unfamiliar shadows of the alley. you were shaking—though not from the cold. your heart slammed against your ribs while your eyes darted frantically from corner to corner, palms slick with sweat inside your thick wool gloves.
you glance down at your watch, the faint glow of the face burning into your eyes. five minutes late. your stomach twists, and your jaw tightens as you shift your weight, breath fogging in the cold air. maybe this was a mistake.
“you always check the time when you’re nervous?”
the voice comes from just behind you. you gasp, spinning around too fast, pulse spiking—
she steps out of the shadows like she’s been there the whole time. auburn hair tucked messily behind her ears, eyes sharp and knowing, that familiar crooked grin already pulling at her lips. ellie.
“jesus,” you breathe. “you’re late.”
she shrugs, hands slipping into her jacket pockets, smile widening as her gaze drags over you. “yeah,” she says easily. “but look at you. kinda worth it.”
you roll your eyes, forcing yourself to breathe. “ugh—whatever. can we hurry up?” you mutter, glancing back toward the empty mouth of the alley. “do you have the stuff or not?”
ellie lets out a quiet laugh, soft and amused, like this is all way funnier to her than it should be. “damn,” she says, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “chill. you’re wound tight.”
she steps closer—close enough that you catch the faint smell of weed clinging to her jacket, sharp with the cold night air. her head tilts, that familiar crooked grin settling in.
“what,” she murmurs, eyes flicking up to meet yours, “this your first time, sweetheart?”
for a moment, your focus slips. the way she’s standing too close, the lazy confidence in her smile—it throws you off more than you want to admit.
ellie catches it instantly. of course she does
then you straighten, expression hardening. “don’t start.”
she clicks her tongue, clearly disappointed. “aw,” ellie says, pouting just a little. “you’re no fun when you pretend you’re not interested.”
“fuck off, ellie.”
she laughs under her breath, hands lifting in surrender. “alright, alright,” she says, still smiling. “relax, sweetheart.”
she reaches into her jacket and presses something into your palm, fingers lingering just long enough to be annoying. her eyes flick up to yours, smirk firmly in place.
“there,” she adds. “your stuff.”
then, like an afterthought, she leans in just enough to be annoying.
“on the house, babe.”
“thanks,” you say, already backing up half a step. “but i don’t do favors. don’t like owing people.”
ellie hums, clearly unbothered. she rocks back on her heels, hands tucked into her jacket like she’s got all the time in the world.
“suit yourself, princess,” she says lightly. “forty-five, then.”
you freeze. “shit—what? i thought it’d be, like… twenty. tops.”
that crooked smile spreads across her face, equal parts smug and entertained. “yeah,” ellie says, laughing under her breath. “you’re definitely new.”
you lift your chin, unimpressed. “so?”
she steps a little closer, voice dropping just enough to feel deliberate. “so,” she says, eyes flicking over you, “you gotta pay somehow, love.”
ellie holds your gaze a second longer than necessary, like she’s waiting to see if you’ll push back again. when you don’t, her smile softens into something quieter. more deliberate.
“c’mon,” she says, already turning away. “we don’t gotta stand out here.”
you hesitate, then follow as she leads you deeper down the block, away from the streetlights. the night seems to close in around you, footsteps echoing off brick and asphalt. somewhere ahead, a car unlocks with a soft click.
ellie stops beside it, resting a hand on the roof, glancing back at you through the dark. her eyes flick over your face, unreadable now—less teasing, more intent.
“money’s not the only way people settle things,” she says calmly. “especially when they come up short.”
the implication lands between you, thick and unmistakable.
she opens the door, a sliver of light cutting through the dark.
“get in,” ellie adds softly. “we’ll work it out.”
ellie slides into the back seat with effortless ease, pulling a small pouch from her jacket pocket. her fingers move slowly, deliberately breaking apart the green as the earthy scent fills the confined space. she rolls the joint with practiced precision, but there’s a softness to her movements tonight—like she’s savoring the moment.
“ever tried this before?” she asks, her voice low, eyes catching yours in the dim light.
you hesitate, voice barely above a whisper. “only with friends… never like this.”
she smirks, lighting the joint with a slow drag, the tip glowing warmly in the dark. then she leans back, offering it to you. the smoke curls around your fingers, the warmth unfamiliar but somehow comforting.
the air feels thick between you, heavy with unspoken words and quiet glances that linger just a second too long. neither of you rushes to fill the silence—it stretches, slow and deliberate.
you take another drag, the smoke swirling around you both, and ellie’s gaze never wavers, steady and electric.
“figured you’d be nervous,” she murmurs, voice low and teasing.
you shake your head slightly, voice low. “not nervous. just… figuring things out.”
she smiles, that crooked grin tugging at her lips. “yeah? well, take your time.”
the smoke drifts between you, thick and slow, carrying everything unsaid.
you lean in, slow and deliberate, letting the moment stretch out between you. her eyes flick to yours, and without a word, she meets you halfway. the space between you disappears gently, the kiss soft and lingering—every second full of quiet heat, like time itself has slowed just for this.
★ summary: you're the one starting the game, pushing your quiet tutor past her limits. As the party fades and the drinks take hold, things get real—more than just studying or teasing. It’s a moment neither of you expected, and neither wants to end. (nsfw)
★ tags: party!girl reader x losernerd!ellie, college au, mutual pining, nsfw, sub!reader x dom!ellie, fingering, clit play, cocky!ellie, eye contact, post-party sex
★ a/n: slightly adjusted the theme to my posts. prob will fix the other ones later but im too lazy to rn. first time writing smut also !
men dni
the quiet settles in slowly, like it’s testing us.
the room still feels full, even with most of the people gone. leftover warmth clings to the walls, to the sheets, to the air itself. the music’s off, but the buzz hasn’t disappeared. it lingers. thick. heavy.
ellie’s still here.
she looks different now—subtly so. not drunk. not unsteady. just softened around the edges. her eyes sit heavier in their sockets, darker somehow, fixed on me in a way they hadn’t been before. there’s something steadier there, something braver.
i catch her looking at me and this time, she doesn’t look away.
she stands closer than she had earlier, close enough that i can feel the heat off her, the faint smell of whatever she drank mixing with the room. her posture’s still careful, still ellie, but there’s a new kind of intent in it. like she’s finally letting herself take up space.
“you okay?” she asks, voice low. not nervous. just quiet.
i nod. “yeah.”
her gaze doesn’t waver. it lingers, slow and deliberate, tracing my face like she’s memorizing it. the silence stretches between us, but she doesn’t rush to fill it. doesn’t fidget. doesn’t retreat.
the party might be over, but whatever this is hasn’t thinned out at all.
it hangs between us, dense and unspoken, daring one of us to move first.
i'm backed against the wall when ellie takes another step closer to me. my breath hitches, and i can feel the fire beneath her skin radiate against mine.
her eyes stay on mine—low-lidded, dark in a way i don’t recognize right away. not glassy. not unfocused. just… bolder. like the drinks stripped away the hesitation without touching the intent behind it. she’s quieter like this, but there’s weight to her gaze now, something deliberate in the way she holds it.
i should say something. tease her. tip the balance back where i like it.
instead, i let my head tilt slightly, studying her, pretending this is still my game to play. i know how to get reactions out of her. i always have. a look, a word, the right tone—she usually folds so easily.
but she doesn’t this time.
she doesn’t look away. doesn’t fidget. just watches me, eyes dipping briefly to my mouth before lifting again, slower. intentional. like she knows exactly what she’s doing, even if she’s never done it before.
it’s… unsettling. in a way that makes my pulse jump.
the air between us feels thick, charged, stretched tight. i can tell she’s tipsy—not enough to blur the moment, just enough to give her courage she doesn’t usually let herself keep. it shows in the way she stands her ground, in the way her breathing is a little heavier but steady.
i stop pressing back. not because i have to—because i choose to.
ellie notices immediately. her eyes flick up, dark and intent, like she’s surprised i’ve given her the opening. she takes the space i leave, one step, then another.
“you’re letting me,” she says quietly.
i tilt my head. “maybe i want to see what you’ll do.”
something shifts in her. the nerves are still there, but steadier now, sharpened by the quiet and the way i’m not pulling away.
“you always think you’re in control,” she murmurs.
i smile. “and you always prove me wrong.”
she’s close enough now that there’s no pretending. her gaze drops to my mouth, then lifts again, heavy. i lean in first—not enough to close the distance. just enough to invite her to.
ellie doesn’t hesitate. she meets me there, bolder than i expected.
and i let it happen, just to see how far she’ll go.
nsfw below the cut
what i didn't expect to see was how eager ellie was. before i knew it her hands were riding up my shirt and quickly fumbling around the back of my bra to unclip it.
"fuck.." ellie breathed out, "i've dreamt about this before.. but it wasn't nearly as perfect as this.."
ellie gently guides me to my bed as the party lights flicker, casting swirling colors that melt the edges of the room around us. she presses herself on top of me, and i can't help but look into her eyes, the rest of the world a blur.
ellie tilts her head up just enough to nestle it in the crook of my neck, pressing soft, gentle kisses that soon turn breathy, her lips teasing with little sucking motions—clearly aiming to leave her mark.
"..ellie," i whimper, signaling my surrender of control.
she brings her fingertips to my waistband, pausing, "is this okay?"
i giggle, the sound light and teasing. “yeah, you’re doing more than enough to ask, but don’t stop now.” my voice drops just a little, encouraging her without saying it outright.
she gives me a look telling me i'm going to regret my sass.
ellie begins rubbing slow, soft, intentional circles on my clit. every so often to she takes a moment to briefly enter the tips of her fingers into my entrance, teasing the already slick hole.
just as my eyes begin to lower she tilts my chin up with her other hand, locking my gaze with hers.
"look at me, baby. don't be the shy one now, cmon," ellie whispers before embracing me in a soft peck.
i look up into her eyes, half-lidded and dark, when she abruptly pushes two fingers into me. maintaining eye contact, she curls her fingers slowly, reaching a spot i can't touch on my own.
my eyes roll back, and begin to close.
ellie curls her digits slightly harder and pulls herself to my ear. "what'd i say about looking at me? hm..?" not expecting a response she adds, "look away and i'll stop."
i began to speak, but i struggled to make out an "okay," and i choked on my words, ending in a sloppy moan. my thoughts blurred, heart slowed, and i couldn’t look away even if i wanted to. time folded in around her presence, and all i could do was lean in, caught in a quiet surrender. drunk on alcohol and the way she looked at me, the world spun softer and slow.
it all began to feel like too much. the alcohol, the eye contact, the pleasure. my stomach had begun to coil.
"ellie.. it's too much.. i'm going to.. m- make a mess."
for some reason, unbeknownst to me, she chuckled at that. "go on pretty girl. make a mess for me. i want you to finish."
looking into her eyes for as long as i can, my eyes well up with tears. sobbing as i reach my high, i ride the come down out on her fingers, coating ellie's fingers with a slimy slick.
she leaned in close, eyes glinting with mischief, slowly licking her fingers as that sly smile curled at the corner of her lips. “guess who’s in control now,” she whispered.
Warnings: mentions and use of dr*gs (weed), masturbation, lots of teasing, exhibitionism, orgasm control, edging, praise, dacryphilia, fingering (r!receiving), degradation, squirting, overstimulation. + aftercare!
Reblogs help a bunch and would be appreciated <3
<<< Day 17
Day 19 >>>
Ellie had been real busy the past week, people were stocking up for the holidays- being a weed dealer had it's pros and cons. Being busy meant more money, but being busy meant less time with her girl. Pros and cons right?
"30 minutes baby, give me 30 minutes. I've got 2 more drops to do, but they're on the way home. Just wait for me okay?" Ellie sighed softly into her phone. You had called her to ask where the hell she was, if she was safe. Being gone for 4 hours was not normal- even when she was busy. "30 minutes. Then I'm going home."
You say sternly down the phone. Ellie knew you were waiting for her at her apartment. What she didn't know was that you were laid there in a sexy Ms Claus lingerie set waiting for her. "Yes ma'am." She teases your fake stern voice.
You didn't want to laugh but you couldn't hold back the small snort you let out. "God you're irritating. Come home baby..." there's silence from Ellie's end of the phone, and the microphone muffles a little bit. "Ellie?"
After a few more second the line stops muffling and she replies. "Sorry baby, was just putting my headphones in." You let out a small sigh of relief, thanking god she okay. "I'll be home soon. I love you."
You return the 'I love you' before Ellie abruptly hangs up. You know she doesn't mean it, it's a habit she picked up from having to speak to 'clients' on the phone constantly. Now all you had to do was wait...
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After another 36 minutes exactly in Ellie's apartment alone, you realise it's extremely boring without Ellie here. Though your boredom is quickly replaced by excitement when you hear the front door open. "Baby I'm home! I'm so fucking sorry I'm late!" She rambles as she kicks off her converse, searching the apartment for any sight of you. "My last client was already high and chatting my ear off about Christmas and I- holy fuck."
You heard her voice getting closer, and then she opened the door. Seeing you dressed in next to nothing, wrapped up pretty like a present just for her. "Welcome home baby..." you smirk and crawl to the edge of the bed on all fours. "Best day of my life... for sure." She mumbles as she shrugs her jacket off, each step bringing her closer.
She tilts your chin up as she reaches the edge of the bed, looking down at you, her eyes dark and filled with lust. "I thought I'd give you an early Christmas present..." you smile as she runs her thumb over your bottom lip. Ellie groans when you take her thumb into your mouth, seductively sucking on the digit, in an almost identical way to her strap. "Merry fucking Christmas to me."
You swirl your tongue around her thumb, taking the whole digit between your lips before letting go of it with a loud 'pop'. "Get comfy baby, I rolled you a joint and everything..." Ellie's brows furrow slightly. The last thing she wanted to do right now was lay down and smoke. She wanted- no needed to be touching you. "But I just got ho-"
You clamp a hand over her mouth, giggling at her as she licks you palm. "I have this whole thing planned. Please just go with it?" She bites your palm, how your not sure because the angle is awkward, but you don't overthink it. Your hand jerks away from her mouth, revealing her smirk. "Fine. But only because I want to see what it is, but I will be getting my hands on you."
Ellie then undressed, stripping to her sports bra and boxers before sitting down in the middle of the bed, her back up against the headboard. "I plan on it..." you mumble as you crawl towards her, grabbing the ash tray from the beside table and placing it in her lap. You also grab the lighter and joint, lighting it up you take one long drag, leaving a bright red lipstick stain on it before you pass it to Ellie. "Jesus fuck..."
You move down the bed to sit at the foot of the bed. Flipping up the skirt of your Ms Claus outfit, you spread your legs, revealing your bare pussy, glistening and ready. "It's pretty lingerie, isn't it els?" Ellie couldn't tear her eyes away, the joint hung between her lips, her fingers digging into her thighs.
"It's real pretty baby... fuck it's.. yeah." Ellie shifts her own cunt already weeping, and you hadn't even done anything yet. You run your fingers through your folds, dipping the tips of your fore finger and middle finger intp your sopping hole, dragging your wetness up and over your clit, moaning softly as you do. "I was waitin' for you els... needed you so badly... look-"
You pull your fingers away and show her the wetness glistening on them, only to bring them to your mouth, holding eye contact as you suck them clean. Ellie was sure she had died and gone to heaven, because there was no way this was real. "Go on Ms claus. Put on a show for me..." she takes a long drag of the joint, she'd need it. She had to do something to stop herself from ravaging you right there.
⊹˚₊‧•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
Ellie was convinced she was too high, or you were too fucking perfect. Sat there with your fingers stuffed deep in your pretty little cunt, moaning her name as you fucked yourself silly. "Keep goin' baby... I told you, you're not cumming until I've smoked this joint."
Her fingers were twitching on her own thigh, the other ashing her joint as she watched you squirm, whining about how it's unfair. No what was unfair, was that you were her teasing the absolute shit out of her, and she had to gain control over you before you manged to turn her into a desperate mess. "Ellie pleaseee I needa' cum.. please please..."
Your hips buck and squirm, trying to get away from your own fingers, which were curing up into your g-spot with each pump of your hand. It was self torture. "I'm nearly done... be a good girl f' me yeah?" God her raspy voice when she was high was enough to get you off. The coil in your lower tummy tightens even more, you slow you hand to keep from squirting everywhere. "Not fairrr... please.. els please!" You start to cry, overwhelmed and so fucking needy it hurt.
Yeah. Ellie was sadistic. The sight of your tears staining your perfect, smooth cheeks, your mascara running with them... her pussy clenched. "A little more... just a little more baby, you can do it." She takes another long drag, watching the joint dwindle down, getting closer and closer the the roach each time.
You choke on your tears as another pathetic moan rips its way from your lips. "I- I can't... I can't els I'm gonna- oh goddd..." you whine, humping your own hand as you try to hold off your impending orgasm. You hadn't been watching Ellie, too focused on not cumming to realise she'd finished her joint, ashed it out and placed the ash tray on the bedside table- but she wasn't going to tell you that. Why would she when she can watch you cry so prettily?
"Bein' such a good girl f' me baby... keep goin' that's it..." Ellie talks you through it as she slips her own hand into her boxers, dipping her long, slim fingers into her own cunt, hearing it squelch at the intrusion. "My god..." she groans quietly, giving herself a few pumps of the hand before she pulls her hand away, sucking her fingers clean.
She grabs your ankle, grabbing your attention. "Come here baby.. lemme look at you." You whimper and sniffle as you clumsily crawl over to Ellie, her hands helping your settle on her lap, your thighs spread over hers. "You... you finished your smoke!" You whine when you realise you could've came. She chuckles and wipes the tears from your cheeks, smearing the mascara leaving black smudges all over your face. Perfect.
"I did, and now babygirl, I'm gonna make you cum so hard you forget all about why you're mad at me right now..." and before you can protest, her hand is between your legs, two long, slim fingers running through your folds easily before she sinks them into your hole, earning her a loud moan. "Mmph f-fuck ellie..."
Your hands find her shoulders, nails digging into her skin as your hips buck, bouncing yourself up and down on her fingers, meeting her thrusts. "There we go... there's my slutty girl, using me to get this greedy little pussy off..." she whispers as her teeth sink into the sensitive skin of your neck.
The feeling of her teeth dragging along your skin before she bites down, claiming and marking what was hers had you tightening around her digits. "Els please... please wanna cum so b-bad please..." Ellie can't help it, your pretty little whimpers and whines were making her damn near feral. She stuffs a third finger into your sopping hole, pumping them harder and faster, listening to your whines get louder.
"Then cum for me babygirl, show me how pretty this slutty little cunt is soaking my hand." Ellie practically growls, her thumb moving back and fourth on your clit. With the added stimulation, along with her degrading words you let go. "Ellie! Oh my f-fucking god!-"
Your tits press firmly against hers as your back arches, thighs squeezing on either side of hers. She groans as you soak her hand and thighs, your pussy gushing and squirting everywhere, making one hell of a mess. "Good fucking girl, makin' a big mess f' me..." her voice was low and raspy from the smoke, only adding to your orgasm.
"E-els... o-okay too much.. t-too much..." you whine and squirm, trying to get away from her fingers as your orgasm subsides. She slows her fingers before pulling them out, letting another gush of squirt leak from your greedy, dripping wet pussy. "Made quite a mess there babygirl..." you watch as she sucks her fingers clean, humming happily at the taste.
You drag your hands up her shoulders yo cup her face. "Was supposed to be your Christmas present..." you mumble against her lips as you kiss her lazily. Ellie returns the kiss, her arms wrapping around your waist, helping to keep you upright. "And it was. Best present I could've asked for, my girl satisfied and fucked out."
You let Ellie lay you down, half watching her as she leaves to go turn the shower on. You hear the water running for a while before she returns to the bedroom, now naked and holding her hand out to you. "Come on baby, let's get you cleaned up hm?"
You nod and let her help your tired body to the bathroom. You were so fucking lucky to have Ellie, and you would never, ever take her for granted. Maybe you could help her out in the shower...
