DON'T STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE JUST BECAUSE THE STRIKE IS OVER! NOBODY WILL BE FREE UNTIL EVERYONE IS FREE!
Oblivious loser bsf! Ellie Williams x possessive popular bsf!fem reader
INDEX
n/a: IT IS MESSY, I barely proofread it but i really wanted to post. I miss writing even if it's bad and I want this fanfic to end ASAP, this is like fetus number one trying to become a fully baby, and I have some many WIP's, I am going to leave it in a cliffhanger again but promise smut coming next chapter. ENJOY AND LEAVE COMMENTS, I will use the last taglist, if you want to be added or remove, let me know.
Two days.
You had only two days with Ellie and you in the house, alone. Time to use the big guns.
“Ellie, do you mind if we sleep together these two nights? I mean, we have to either way, once my family gets here the house won’t be big enough” You said while changing clothes in the bathroom of your childhood holiday home, Ellie and you were going to stroll around after the long nap you two took.
The ride to the house had been kind of depressing, and you truly regretted letting Ellie touch the aux because all the sad songs possible in this earth were playing the whole 17h drive to here. Barely had any conversation, which frustrated you, you couldn’t seduce a depressed Ellie, she gets in her world, and it’s so difficult to take her out of it.
That’s why you cheered her with DoorDash from her favourite fast food place, some beer and a good series while running your fingers on her hair until she fell asleep with her head on your lap, and accidentally you did too. After waking up, you suggested going out for a walk around the beach and have dinner out.
“Uh, yeah, cool with me”
You nodded, putting your earring in and leaving the bathroom. The dress you were wearing was floral, long and slit down the middle, your legs were visible every time you walked and if you sat, it would fell to the sides, one wrong move and your lacy panties would be revealed. All part of your plan, what a slut.
Ellie couldn’t help but scan your body as you walked by her, you saw it through the large mirror in your wall, you smiled. Attention caught.
“How do I look?” You said, turning around looking at her, catching her in the act of observing you.
Ellie stuttered a little bit, “Stunning” she cleared her throat avoiding your eyes, “Are you trying to hook up with someone tonight? I thought it was a casual night out”
“And it is, that doesn’t mean I don’t want the attention on me” you smirked “And about hooking up with someone, I will let the night decide that, what about you?”
Ellie was wearing baggy blue jeans with a green hoodie and a light brown jacket, her hair was loose, half of it behind her ear. She looked pretty good, you bit your lip waiting for her answer as she shook her head.
“I don’t think so, you know I’m not the type to do that, we had to practice before going to the party, remember? Because of how rusty I was? Also, with the Dina thing-”
“Ugh, come on, Els” You rolled your eyes getting closer to her “I need you to be on your worst behaviour this break, that means being a party animal, not a depressed one, besides…”
Your hands went straight to her shoulders as you locked eyes with her, “If you need more practice, what kind of best friend I am to deny it? I will always be here to assist you in anything you need”
That sweet and sultry voice you used to say the last, made her blood rush to her cheeks, turning it red, her mouth feeling dry all of a sudden. You smiled, patting her shoulder as you winked at her before grabbing your bag and walking towards the main door. That’s it, leave her wanting more.
“Let’s go, Williams! The night is young, and I need a drink!”
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
The beach was packed, the night was lively and there was different music all around. Ellie and you were walking, searching for a cool bar with good food and good drinks.
“That one looks good, and the poster has massive burgers” Ellie pointed at one across the street with neon lights and sure it was filled “I want that burger, looks so good”
“Yeah, but that’s the picture, don’t get disappointed if you don’t get exactly that”
“Don’t get my hopes down, I am starving” She grabbed your hand to cross the street, it would feel amazing if it wasn’t a normal friends thing to do, still, you felt all giddy about it.
The bar had modern music on and a party ambiance, it was dark and lit up with more neon lights inside, regardless it was animated with chatter, sounds of glass clinking, laughs right and left, filled with scent of liquor and food. It had jungle and feline animals decorations, which made sense for the name of the bar, ‘Jaguar’.
Most of the people in seemed close to your age, and maybe here for the break as well. Some were at tables with full of glasses of half empty drinks, others with just food and others at the counters either ordering more drinks or flirting with the person siting besides them.
“Let’s find a place to sit” Ellie said, letting go of your hand, you frowned at that but quickly changed facial expression for a happy smile while nodding.
“You do that, I’ll order your burger and the drinks, too many people, and I am getting very hungry too”
Ellie said ‘okay’ before starting to look through the crowd, saying sorry to those who she bumped by mistake and finally finding a table with two chairs not too far from the counter, so she had a good view of you, she waved so you could see in which table she was. You waved at her too and went back to trying to catch the bartender’s attention.
Ding!
Ding!
Ellie took her phone out of her pocket to check the notifications, it was Dina.
Dina: Hey, can we talk? I really don’t want to go to sleep without talking things over.
Dina: Please.
It took five or six minutes for Ellie to type a good answer without deleting it for being too much or too passioned or too cold. The “fight” of her and Dina had been very fresh for her, but she didn’t want to lose what she had with Dina, still she needed to cool down first to maintain a mature conversation about it.
Ellie: Not right now, maybe tomorrow
“I hope I don’t sound too much like a jerk” she said to herself, staring at the text bubbles, three dots appearing and disappearing until she was just left on read. “Huh… okay, clearly not going to overthink that”
Her leg started moving up and down nervously, waiting for the bubbles to come back any minute now… any second now… nothing. “Fuck it”
She saved her phone back in her pocket and looked in your direction to distract herself ¿What was taking you so long? She needed that drink more than ever. You were in the same spot, but now with two drinks in hand that seemed like a mojito and a piña colada and also not alone any more, there was this black-haired girl by your side making you giggle, and you were letting her touch your shoulder as she pushed you close to whisper more things.
“So funny, you're sure you are okay with paying my bill? It’s not only mine, also my friend”
“Anything for a pretty lady, who’s your friend? If she’s cute, you both should join me and my friends later at our table”
You turned around to point at Ellie only to meet her cold eyes as her eyebrow rose up. “Uh… That girl right there, she must be a little annoyed right now, she has been waiting all this time for these drinks, let me go over there and we’ll join after”
“That’s not your girlfriend, right?” The girl inquired watching between you two.
“No! Just my best friend, she’s going through a breakup, but I swear she’s fun, just need some fuel, It is all paid, yeah?” You asked which she nodded, and you instantly kissed her cheek, “Thank you! Like I said, we’ll join later”
You winked at your conquest and left her side to go to your table. If Ellie’s stare was cold before, now it was making your whole body shiver. You smiled, placing the mojito in front of her.
“What took you so long?”
“Relax, a girl needs to work her charm into free things” You said flipping your hair as you sat down “the drinks and food were free, all paid with my smile and pretty face, the least you could say is ‘thank you’ and not be mad at me”
“I was going to pay, like always, no need to get someone to do that for you”
You rolled your eyes, “Ellie, it is paid already, just drink and - Oh! The burgers are here, thank you! Wow, they look the same as the picture”
But Ellie did not care about the burger right now, she cared about how easy it was for you to flirt and get anybody to do anything for you. She observed you taking a picture of the food, her fingers tapping slowly in the table.
So easy for a pretty girl like you to get anyone fluttered around you, fooling around was kinda your thing, and you had a master in teasing. That’s why she couldn’t take you seriously whenever you made a move on her, because she didn’t believe it was real, she would just say ‘That’s her personality, Ellie, she does not mean it, not that way with you’
Maybe if you knew that, you would be more reserved to others, but it was kind of mission impossible. You were coquette, and you loved the effect it had on people, having people whipped around your finger waiting to see if they had any chance with you. Ellie doubted that you could stop, it was in your nature.
Of course, she wasn’t resistant to your appeal, but there was the whole ‘childhood best friends’ implication that had helped her to bury any blossoming feeling or thought about you two getting together, and there was the Abby thing too…
She hadn’t recovered fully from that. Spending time with Dina had helped, but every time you two hanged out like before the whole storm and had the same proximity, she couldn’t help but feel that pang of hurt inside her.
You had already confessed. She had your words in the back of her head, occasionally she would get flashbacks of that night and remember every word you said.
[“Shut up. Let me finish, I did it because of you, Ellie, I’ve been in love with you since god knows when and I tried so hard just to be your best friend, but I couldn’t”]
She got the confirmation, even so, she wasn’t confident in that, and you were still on probation to get her trust back. “I think I lost my appetite, Do you know how much was everything?”
You shook your head, biting into your now half burger, “Why? I told you, it is paid already”
Ellie shrugged, taking a fifty-dollar bill out of her wallet, “Come on”
She stood up and grabbed your arm and your bag, making you stand up too, “W-what- But I have not finished eating, Ellie!”
Some people nearby stared at you two, but quickly minded their own business. You protested as she dragged you to the table of the black-haired girl you were “flirting” with, you were confused ¿What was going? ¿What was she going to do?
“Hey! I was getting worried you forgot about me, let me introduced you to my frie-”
“No need” Ellie cut her off mid-words, “Look, I just wanted to give you your money back, we’re leaving”
She tossed the fifties to the girl and dragged you again as you waved ‘bye’ and muttered ‘sorry’ feeling so embarrassed at the moment.
“What the fuck was that?” Someone at the table asked, the girl grabbed the fifties and shrugged.
“The fuck would I know? Lots of crazy bitches nowadays, but hey, one round on me”
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
After what felt like an eternity, you two got to the house. Pure silence.
You had yelled at her, How could you not? You felt fucking ashamed at her little scene at the bar, but she didn’t even flinch, just let you yelled at her like crazy while she kept walking in front of you.
“Fucking embarrassing” you mumble, throwing the keys on the table. That is not how the night should’ve gone.
It was supposed to be a calm night, you two were supposed to have a great time, drink a lot, dance until your feet hurts and then see the sunrise at the beach… maybe share a kiss in between and make Ellie forget about Dina, but instead it ended in you two mad at each other. Worst part, you had no idea what you did wrong, because -oh, it was always your fault.
“Can you at least explain to me what was that for?”
You followed Ellie down the hall to the bedroom you two were supposed to sleep in together, hard to tell now if that was going to happen, but you were convinced that if you went to sleep without answers from her, you would not be able to get rid of this nasty feeling that was clinging your stomach.
She had you there, leaning into the door frame as she sighed, taking her jacket off. “I need you to talk, Ellie. You were so rude to the poor girls in front of her friends, and you yanked me out, what was that for?”
She kept her silence as she sat on the bed, taking her shoes off, meanwhile your anger was increasing. “I am talking to you! Don’t you fucking ignore me”
“It is better if you sleep in the other room tonight” Ellie broke her silence. Then she locked herself in the bathroom, no turn for you to argue more.
“Huh” a husky breath left your mouth, “Suit yourself”
You closed the door harshly, it resonated throughout the empty house. If she wanted you to sleep in the other room, well, you were going to do so, but you were angry, and as you showered, you became furious. You didn’t realise the moment you started crying until you got out and caught yourself in the mirror.
You were so frustrated, so irked and so disappointed, what a fucking rollercoaster today had been. You had it all planned out, so why was this the outcome? Where did you fuck up? Only Ellie knew, and she did not want to talk to you.
“And all my clothes are in that bedroom, Jesus”
Breathing exercises to calm yourself were not helping a lot, but somehow you managed to stop the tears from coming out, you roamed through the bedroom thinking of how awkward it would be having to go there for your clothes, your stomach wouldn’t survive that, you would throw up right there.
“You don’t fucking care, You don’t fucking care” You whispered to yourself while walking slowly to Ellie’s bedroom in just a towel and still a little bit wet. “You just need to get your clothes and leave, pajamas and gone, dip, au revoir”
No knocking on the door, just straight up opening with no warning. You found Ellie with her phone, already tucked in, the eye contact was intense for those few seconds it lasted before you walked to your suitcase, opening it loudly and rambling through it as if you hadn’t passed your pajamas like two times by then.
All in order to annoy her, “What are you doing?”
“Getting my pajama, duh” Your irritated and childish tone didn’t surprise her at all.
Ellie watched you, finally deciding to enter her bathroom to change there. She rolled her eyes, getting up from bed and waiting for you to come out, when you did with your towel in hand and totally changed, you walked over to the door, but she blocked your way out.
“Wait”
“What now?” You looked at her as she closed the door behind her, your arms crossed, waiting for her to talk.
She sighed, “I was wrong for acting that way back at the bar, I am sorry for that, you were right-”
“When I am not?” You interrupted her, sucking your tongue against your teeth, letting out a sharp ‘tsk’
She stared down at you. “I’m trying here”
“Keep going” Her eyes intimidated you a little bit, making you change from crossing your arms, to let them by your sides, to cross them again, acting all confident as if it had no effect on you.
Ellie nodded slowly, your eyes diverted to her pajamas, a black wife pleaser and blue, green and red patterned pajamas pants that hanged low on her hips, showing the band of her Tommy Hilfiger’s boxers which you gifted her months ago. She took two steps in your direction, hesitated two times before talking again, and licked her lips once.
She wanted to apologise, at the same time she didn’t know how to, what was she going to say? That she got jealous? What right did she had? Especially with Dina in the picture. Yet, she didn’t want you two to go to sleep mad at each other. She didn’t want to ruin your beauty sleep overthinking all night on something she couldn’t explain, she was not ready to do so, she was insecure.
If what her heart and head were telling her were true, then she belonged to you…
just found out scrolling through tumblr wouldn’t make me closer to finishing my wips and if I wanted to make some progress on my fic, I’d have to write. shocking
I need Abby weak and begging strapping me thrusting her hips over and over again gripping the sheets murmuring “I’m sorry I’m rough baby I’m sorry” while I vibe her pussy idk
If there was one thing Ellie promised to herself before starting college, it was that she would never fall in love with someone like you. She had no problem with you being a femme, far from that, but it was just everything about what you stood for.
She had dealt with her fair share of sorority and fraternity members in her 2 years on campus, frequently invited to their parties to sell overpriced weed to drunk frat dudes and avoiding the poorly hidden judgemental stares of the picture perfect future leaders of society. She had heard what they whispered in passing, what they did behind closed doors and in the dark hallways of those grand houses, and she swore she'd never be back inside them unless it was necessary.
And then, as cliche as it was, she finally met you. It was almost like fate had kept you from her until this moment, meeting eyes for the first time while you were attending a speed recruiting table for your sorority. For some reason, you looked at her, dressed in a pair of old sweatpants and her 'only walking around the house or a quick run to the store' SpongeBob and Patrick Crocs, and decided she was a fantastic potential candidate.
You call her over, and with your eyes watching her and your smile wide as she slowly walks over, how on Earth could she say no? Every second she's noticing something new about you thats bound to get her in trouble - your soft pink sweatsuit, the small glint of an initial necklace resting on your chest, the jingling of the charm bracelet on your wrist. And when she steps up to the edge of the table she catches a brief whiff of the yummiest perfume she's ever smelled in her life.
You're talking to her, ignoring the polite yet incredulous looks of your sorority sisters as you hand her an information packet about your chapter and then offer her a damn bowl of candy. She's on auto pilot as she takes out a wrapped candy, ignoring how her heart skips a beat when you remark that you have the same favorite, and briefly reads over the pastel pink pastel pamphlet with your sorority's name printed across the top.
'Alpha Omega Kappa', literally spelling out A -OK. She could almost snort at the stupidity, but judging by the slight pout on your lips she realizes she did so out loud. Woops. If your sorority sisters were hiding their dirty looks earlier they certainly weren't now.
"What is it? Is the shade of pink weird? I wanted to go with a rosier pink for readability but my sister Tiffany thought blush would be prettier-"
"No, no, it's not that," Ellie stammers, managing to get over the small moment of embarrassment over stuttering when she notices the slight relief wash over your features. "Its...nice. Pretty font."
"Aww, thank you! Y'know you should come to our house party later on this week, I think youd enjoy it!"
Ellie is remembering that promise she made to herself years ago that she wouldn't be caught up in a situation that could jeopardize her money, her heart, and potentially her sanity. But when she tells you that she'll think about your offer before walking away you throw a little wave at her as she leaves, and for a second she swears that it's bordering on flirtatious, that your eyes look her up and down, SpongeBob cross and all, and smile at what you see.
dear lord, please take all life problems and responsibilities away from fanfic writers but also make them financially stable and happy with nothing to worry about so they can happily focus on writing and posting fanfiction. amen
As Ellie goes down on you leaving a trail of wet kisses that make your stomach’s butterflies revolting inside you. She bite the inside of your tights making your breath hitch, the first bite it’s not hard but the next ones were clearly to mark you as hers.
Her hot breath gets closer to your cunt and your whole body shivers, you hide your face, embarrassed of how horny you are, ¿What is this woman doing to you? She laughs.
“You need to keep your eyes on me, otherwise I won’t continue” She says, and you have to obey because, gosh, you need her to continue. Slowly, you take your hands off your face and look at her, positioning yourself better so you could have a good view. “Attagirl”
You are so weak for her, so so weak that with just one lick you felt like touching the sky. As she continued, you couldn’t help yourself but moan trying to not be loud, but how could you not when she was gripping your hips so good? How could you not when she had her eyes fixed on you and your every reaction? How could you not when her muffed moans vibrated so good in your cunt? No wonder your back arched instantly.
Her skilled tongue flicked your clit like it was made for it and– oh, the sucking- the way she suctioned it making slurp noises just made your eyes roll so badly, you didn’t want it to end, so when the familiar feeling in your stomach started forming you tried to hold it but you weren’t able to last too long, so disappointing.
But Ellie didn’t stop there “That was just the ‘how’ part, now the ‘proud’ one”
The night was going to be so looooong.
——————————————————————
LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS IF YALL LIKE IT, pleaaaaase🤍
I am a virgin, so sorry😭😭 But I can’t sleep so I was rumbling, I MISS WRITING AAAAAAAAH I know this is ass but buuuuut trust that I will get better at writing this type of scenes one day🤍
“you're always so fucking mean to me—” you blurt out, voice cracking as you lie pinned beneath ellie her strap buried deep inside you, hips rocking steady as she rolls her eyes, a sharp scoff escaping her lips.
“you act like you hate me—mph—” your whimper cuts through as she thrusts deeper, the strap stretching you tight, sending a jolt of pleasure pain up your spine.
“because i do.” ellie grunts, snapping her hips roughly the strap hitting deep enough to make you gasp. “you think just ‘cause i fuck you, that means i don’t hate you?” she lets out a chuckle, leaning closer, her breath hot on your neck.
“i can fuck you all day and still hate every inch of you.” your smile drops, brows furrowing as her words sting
“fuck you, ellie.” you mutter voice shaky, trying to push against her, to move, but her hands clamp down on your hips, holding you firm.
“you’re such a—shit!” another thrust cuts you off, her strap dragging against your walls, making your moan betray you, loud and needy.
“such a what?” she taunts, smirking now, all smug as she grinds into you, slow then hard, watching your face twist with pleasure. “go on, say it. call me a jerk.” her hands slide to your thighs, spreading them wider, giving her better control as she picks up the pace, each thrust a little meaner.
“you’re a jerk,” you spit, but it’s weak your voice breaking into a whimper as she hits that spot that makes your back arch. “you—fuck—you don’t have to be so cruel about it.”
“cruel?” ellie laughs. “you’re moaning like you love it, sweetheart, don’t act like you’re not into this.” she thrusts harder, the bed creaking, and you cry out, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity. “what’s that? you gonna cry now? thought you could handle me.”
“i can.” you snap, defiant despite the way your body’s trembling, your pussy clenching around her strap. “but you don’t have to—fuck—talk like you hate me.” you try to squirm away again, but her grip tightens, one hand pinning your wrist above your head, the other guiding her strap with precision.
“oh, but i do,” she says. “hate how you’re always in my face, always pushin’ my buttons, and yet—” she thrusts deep, holding it there, making you moan loud enough to echo. “you’re takin’ my strap like you’re made for it, kinda fucks with my head, y’know?”
“then stop,” you challenge, voice wavering, but your hips buck up, chasing the friction, betraying your words. “if you hate me so much, just—fuck—just leave.”
“leave?” ellie scoffs, her hand sliding to your jaw, forcing you to meet her gaze. “and miss this? nah, im good right here.”
she thrusts again, slower and easing, watching your face contort. “besides, you’re so wet and your pussy’s gripping me, baby.” her hand slides between you, fingers brushing your clit, and you scream, the sound raw and desperate. “yeah, that’s what i wanna hear, keep it loud for me.”
“ellie, please,” you beg, not even sure what you’re asking for, your body’s shaking,every thrust pushing you closer to the edge, her fingers circling your clit with just enough pressure to make you lose it.
“please what?” she teases, her voice all mock sweetness. “please fuck you harder? please make you cum? ‘cause im already doin’ that, atta girl.” she thrusts deeper holding it, her fingers speeding up, and your moans turn to sobs. “go on, tell me what you really want.”
“i—fuck—i want you to—” your words choke off as she hits that spot again, your orgasm so close you can taste it. “just—make me cum, ellie, please!” she smirks, leaning down, her lips grazing yours but not quite kissing.
“that’s more like it,” she murmurs. “but you gotta earn it, tell me you’re mine.” you hesitate, pride warring with need, but another thrust breaks you.
“im—im yours,” you gasp, voice raw, and she groans, her own arousal clear in the way her eyes darken. “good girl,” she says, and that’s it—she’s relentless, thrusting hard and fast, her fingers working your clit until you’re gone.
your orgasm crashes through you, a loud, broken wail tearing from your throat as you cum, your pussy pulsing around her strap, legs trembling, ellie doesn’t stop, working you through it with slow, deep thrusts, her fingers easing off your clit.
when you finally go limp, panting, she pulls out, quick and efficient, already grabbing her shirt from the floor. “there you go,” she says, voice back to that cold, detached tone. “don’t say i never gave you nothin’.” you’re still catching your breath, sprawled on the bed, when you mutter.
“you’re such a fucking jerk.” she smirks, tugging her shirt on, already halfway to the door. “takes one to know one,” she shoots back, and she’s gone, leaving you there, fucked out and fuming, her strap’s absence as sharp as her words.
"i'm tired of smut, we need more fluff!!" "someone needs to write more angst" "we need more longer fics"
yeah okay that's all fun and games until someone writes smut and y'all go sprinting like it's a fucking dog whistle. "we need more longer fics" rightt but when someone writes them you suddenly evaporate into thin air?? you don't need longer fics, you need a longer attention span and it shows.
fuck-fuck-fuck not being able to kiss your super hot drummer girlfriend properly ‘cause of that damn tongue piercing.
cw # 18+, public sex, oral sex, bandmates!au, guitarist!reader, slight dumbification, vi’s hot as fuck i wont elaborate, 2.2k words of pure filth, pls take care of your fresh piercing and DONT eat your girl if its a tongue one thanks,,, art bellow by — robin-vb.
"you sure you don't want to try it out with the groupies out there?" it's a compromised position to even try to be a brat when her arm pushes you against the small space in between the piled transportation boxes behind the scenario, when her lips find yours and you cannot think of a response that's clever enough as her mouth trails an invisible path down to your jaw and you can feel the first traces of it, the metal that drags against your skin in a new, foreign sensation — "i mean, they are screaming your name, don’t you hear it?"
vi’s sure she can, but cannot bring herself to care when she lacks of decency like this. decency she should have as her hands got stuck beneath your shirt, stroking the skin that shivers beneath her touch like a chemical reaction. the concert has just ended, the fans keep screaming and demanding for more so there's no one around to make her think its a bad idea, not when you look so inviting in her arms, when your sweaty skin now feels warm in the drummer's own and it’s exactly what she needs to celebrate another successful night.
"you're not wearing a bra?" there's noise around, but vi remains unfocused, the rest comes to a second plane: of course you're not wearing a bra — "cheeky guitarist. why do you want a fan, huh? somebody else to watch? maybe she likes my piercing better than you do."
there's no real discussion at all, not when you miss her too much to even try to fight any witty comment she tosses at you when the drummer decided to get a tongue piercing out of nowhere a month ago, against your will at first cause she's unable to kiss you for the entire healing process, eat you out properly.
"fuck off, violet."
"nu-uh. nobody gets to see you this fucked but me," a problem. everything with her tends to be a problem when you first meet her years ago. "the view is reserved for my eyes only, sweetheart. let them get in line."
you knew it from before, when she knocked on your door months ago, claiming she had nowhere to go, soaking wet cause it's raining heavily and she cannot crash at the studio anymore when things get complicated with rent. treating your sofa like its heaven on earth, only an excuse to have you closer — push you against her half-asleep, wrap her arms around you in the minimal space of the squared cushions that work as an improvised mattress, you're the only one that's able to keep her alive in a cold night.
your rockstar girlfriend is an adrenaline junkie, cause she doesn't care about who could, or cannot see what she's doing behind the scenario with the promise it wont take more than ten minutes.
"what's the worst that can happen in ten minutes?"
so this whole secretive thing is getting out of hand when she's unbuckling your pants, when her saliva's visible in the flesh and vi only takes what she needs, even when it goes too far, even when her hands slide under the rough fabric of your jeans and her fingertips burn against your body. its like taking care of a thirst that she's been carrying all this time, not aware of the consequences cause she's too busy worried about your fun, your desires.
there's no way to point out she's undressing you in public, that it would take only one of the assistants to go and search for a storage box or just cross the scenario from one side to another behind the curtains to see what's happening; there's no use in hiding the need that drags you closer to her, that permission in the air when her finger circles around your clit tight and trapped in your jeans and you part your legs further apart to give her more space, more of you.
a lot can happen in ten minutes. you become aware of it now when she's all over you, unable to walk you to her dressing room when vi's too hungry to try to resist that magnetism that pulls you closer to her, insane and tangible. something explodes after all that playful games in front of the public, the damn band when you seated in her lap whispering how good she's hitting every note, how good she looks as her muscles do the effort to catch up every quick note, when her leg muscles hold enough force to make you jump each time she pushes the pedal on her right foot: hot, it’s fucking hot.
teasing her the entire concert — you really think she was going to be patient enough to wait for privacy? violet's bragging the entire day on how her appointment with her piercer went so good to the point she can now do all those things she once was forbidden with; did you really believe she wasn’t going to use it on you the first moment she gets you alone?
maybe that's why she's kneeling in front of you, why you moan as her tongue soaks down the fabric of your tee and the piercing slides against your hardened nipple making you thank on your choices of not wearing a bra, gasp cause it's much easier without underwear, safer if someone catches the filthy atrocities an impatient drummer rockstar cannot wait to do.
silver metal, you can feel it when she's placing kisses in your belly, marks that will last for the entire week when she takes their time with it — your girlfriend wants you to fall in love with it like she does, love the damn piercing like a treat she's patiently waiting to show you.
"be silent," it's a warning, but really, why for? is there a point when your moans blend with the screams outside? when the electricity is still palpable in the air and you can feel vi's mouth similar to the most delicious sin to ever exist? it's warm when her tongue traces the bones in your hips, as her lips suction the skin right over the waistband of your underwear to leave a mark she'll be able to look at every time she wants to, unbuckled pants already, you’re so pliant in her touch, reactive — "been fucking with me in the scenario all night but you can't shut up for a while? make a damn effort."
she's never mean. she's rough but she's always tender, holds you close to hear the sound of your heartbeat in her ear like a movie soundtrack, relishes on how your pulse flutters against her hand as she whispers the most filthy sentences against your ear, unspeakable lust, like the way your girlfriend looks on her knees.
it would be an utter embarrassment to fold this easily for you in any other circumstance, wear the redness on her knees like a new tattoo vi wants to get done the minute she walks away from the stadium. the grid on the floor pushes against her skin to leave new marks like the ones in your stomach, and the pain is deliciously good— she's been there before, tugging your pants down to your ankles and running her short nails against the skin of your thighs to leave a red path behind: she's been there before, enjoying you.
"vi-- someone will come in, we can go to my dressing room," the words come out choked of your throat and you understand at the same time that it's not the common adrenaline what turns you on in the first place, the subtle desire of being discovered, pry upon, but instead, the way your girlfriend whispers against your skin something about how you can take it, how you already let her go that far only to undress you this quickly hidden by some amplifiers.
you’re so good: let her keep going.
"cum on my tongue and all resentment is forgotten, i promise" what fucking resentment? what is she on? you chuckle, shit. will she bother to undress you properly? take off your already soaked panties or keep the insane behavior going? vi's smile widens at the sight of the slick underwear bare to her sight, something your girlfriend wants to hold in her memory as something dear: the darker hue that she can almost not discern in the dark but its there, filling the air in the backstage with your intoxicating scent — "be quick and no one will notice, do we have a deal?"
she could convince you to sign a contract with the devil itself, a demon sent to hold you accountable of every whispered promise you made swearing to higher forces of the universe without knowing she was listening. you're nodding, she got the most handsome cocky grin in history and you are greeted instead, by the most recent addition in her mouth.
cold, gentle and constant drag of the metal bar making their way against her your soaked underwear, and you don't even notice when she's using her hands to spread you further apart, the fabric clinging into your folds and leaving behind easy access to delve deeper, sink her face in between your legs until you're all she can breathe and taste is your fresh arousal leaking and sticking to the cotton.
"cat got your tongue?" funny. so fucking funny when her thumb find your clit already marked in your clingy underwear, stroking it with a practiced ease: she knows the rhythm you like, your own maddening course she has learned to the heart — "use that pretty mouth and answer me. you're good at that."
your rockstar girlfriend aims to please. that's why she got the tongue piercing done in the first place, cause she wants you to enjoy every second of it. a secret reward for vi herself, cause the love she feels on her stomach when your head falls backwards and she can hear the moans you're fighting to hold? should be damn studied, used as a reference for the increasing desire that manifest sticking to vi's underwear.
you understand now. the sounds outside become silent now when you distinguish the lewd, slurping sound she makes cause despite being in clear public, your girlfriend cant help but be a messy eater, dripping saliva against her chin, smearing against her face as your hips roll forward in almost an automatic proof of your need.
holding you in place, the sight of your knees shaking makes vi smile; damn right you cannot speak, damn right you move cause you're always so greedy, greedy little guitarist who's always asking for more.
swollen clit, it aches under her touch, the sensitive bundles of nerves responding to her — no need for fingers, no need to anything else more than a sinful tongue to get you there, your own hand covering your mouth to somehow stiff the moans as the other grips vi's cherry strands to hold her close to your cunt.
your bandmate satisfies your needs like no one else does, communicates with your body without having to talk with you first cause her hands now force you to move against her mouth, ground your hips against her mouth to get the perfect friction. the metal drags against your underwear, rubs between your folds and stimulates your already swollen g-point in a devastating bundle: there it fucking is.
vi can feel it too after a while, when your grip turns almost painful as you try to draw her closer: travels down your spine like a current of electricity waiting to strike. you're on the tantalizing edge of a delicious orgasm and vi's never felt more holy than in that very moment when you're biting your hand to hold in the moans of her name that threatens to be loud as hell, repeating like a prayer over and over again.
it's such an intoxicating feeling, to be wanted without an ounce of restraint.
your body convulses, and your girlfriend has to fight against the gravity to keep you standing, feasting on the white-ish discharge that now coats your underwear and she wishes to get on her tongue instead.
fucking greedy.
so how was it? everything's a problem with your bandmate/girlfriend. everything's a problem and it's so intense with her. the first make-out high on weed, the tattoo's she gave you at 3am after you both received the first paycheck, high on love, high on life, high on the devastating sound of the music.
"you think someone saw?"
"no," vi reassures you when you're using your thumb to clean the traces of you in the corners of her mouth — "what i'm really curious about, is what the tabloids will say about your flirting tonight."
"my flirting?" you question, fixing your outfit.
"do we think sitting in my lap and whisper filthy things to my ear will go unnoticed?" she chuckles likes its obvious, cause after all, it is obvious.. "i mean, even good guitarists have their limits, people can tell when you're looking at me with those eyes."
"what eyes?"
"you know what eyes. those fuck me eyes."
it's raw and unfiltered. when you kiss her vi's sweaty and it's clumsy and perfect, full of saliva, your own taste, metal and something that's uniquely your girlfriend.
ah. it was never fucking casual. you should have known from the start.
maybe it is time to tell the band, you can't really tell when vi's making you dumb on her kisses again: your girl's always playing dirty.
(fwb! ellie x reader): you and ellie help end each other's dry spells.
wc: 4.3k | cw: top!ellie, bottom!reader, kinda dom!ellie, friends with benefits, sorta fluffy, oral sex (r!recieveing), fingering (r!recieving), strap-on usage, established friendship, MINORS DNI.
note: in honor of my first tumblr fic, it's gotta be my sweet angel ellie <3
"I mean...we could always fuck?" Ellie says it casually, shrugging one shoulder as she ashes the joint in her little Martian ashtray—the one shaped like a tiny green guy with his mouth wide open. It’s such a stupid ashtray, really, but she's so proud of it.
Her tone is flat, nonchalant, like she’s suggesting grabbing takeout or seeing a movie. Nothing about her delivery suggests the weight of what she’s just said.
You level your gaze at her, waiting for the twitch of a smirk, the inevitable laugh that will let you off the hook, but nothing comes. She just looks back at you, entirely unbothered. Steady. Oh. Oh, she’s dead fucking serious.
"Ellie, what the fuck are you talking about?" You sit up a little, tension tightening your shoulders.
"I'm just saying! You're pent up, I'm pent up..." She lets the words hang in the air, like they’re perfectly reasonable. Like that explains everything. As if desire is a simple math problem that can be solved by proximity and a mutual dry spell.
This whole conversation started because you told her—emphatically—that she should not call her ex for a late-night, emotionally reckless hookup. A basic rule. A golden rule. Exes are off-limits, especially the one who cheated twice and still somehow calls Ellie every few months like they’re on some time loop. But Ellie, ever the disaster romantic, whined that she hasn’t had sex in months, as if celibacy were a terminal illness and she was hours from death.
You, being the absolute fool that you are, admitted that it’s been a while for you too. Not that you elaborated. God, no. If Ellie knew exactly how long it’s been, she’d never let it go. She’d turn it into some running joke—years later, she'd still bring it up in a bar with a grin and a dig to your ribs. So you kept it vague. Unfortunately, that seems to have sparked something in her. Something impulsive and chaotic and very, very Ellie.
She’d propped herself up on her elbows like the thought had just dropped into her brain fully formed and was too juicy not to share. Looked down at you from the bed with that infuriating half-smile she gets when she knows she’s about to say something dumb and provocative.
She’d passed you the joint like it was a peace offering. “Y’know, that’s got me thinking,” she said, voice dipped in a conspiratorial lilt.
You snorted. “That’s never a good sign.”
“Fuck you,” she shot back without heat, grinning.
And now here you are, locked in this weird, stupid moment that feels like it’s teetering on the edge of something you can’t quite name. You roll your eyes, desperate to push things back into normal territory, but she’s not budging. "You cannot be serious," you say, your voice somewhere between amused and alarmed. “You’re on a roll with the shitty ideas today.”
"Dude, give me one good reason why we shouldn't," she says, and there’s something dangerous about the way she says it now—bolder, almost daring. She’s testing something. Maybe testing you.
You could give her a hundred reasons, probably more. She’s your best friend. You’ve known her for years. It would ruin everything. It’s a terrible, world-ending, heart-splintering idea. But the way she’s looking at you right now—eyes steady, mouth just slightly parted like she’s already imagining what it would feel like—it makes your brain go kind of static.
“Ellie, please,” you mumble, forcing your gaze away, handing the joint back after dragging too hard, letting it burn the back of your throat like that’ll ground you. It doesn’t.
“I’m not hearing a reason,” she says, calm, insistent.
“You’re such a slut.” You try to laugh it off, to toss it away with a joke, but it comes out quieter than you meant it to, rougher around the edges. Like you’re not really joking at all.
She tilts her head just slightly, like she’s getting ready to pounce or maybe just waiting to see if you’ll crack. She doesn’t seem content to leave well enough alone.
Ellie watches you for a moment longer, her gaze sharp despite the haze from the joint. She flicks the roach into the Martian’s gaping mouth again, then gestures loosely toward the bed. “C’mere.”
It’s not said with urgency, but you know what she means. And she knows you know. That two-syllable invitation is the hinge the whole night turns on.
You don’t move at first. You just lie there on the floor, staring up at the ceiling like it might offer an answer. Every cell in your body is vibrating with something like warning. This is probably a bad idea.
But she’s still looking at you, waiting to see what you’ll do. And even though your brain is screaming no, your body—traitorous and heavy with want—starts to move before you've fully decided anything. You push yourself up off the floor, knees stiff, mouth dry, heart pounding too fast for something that isn't technically even happening yet.
You crawl up onto the bed slow and unsure. It’s quiet in the room except for the rustle of sheets and the distant hum of traffic outside her window. And then Ellie reaches for you, hands landing on your hips like they’ve always belonged there—steady, sure, warm through the thin fabric of your pants.
She guides you forward, not forceful but intent, until you’re straddling her lap, your knees bracketing her thighs, your hands hovering like you don’t know what to do with them. Which, you don’t.
“See?” she says, tilting her head, smirking just a little. “World’s not ending.”
You exhale something that might be a laugh, except it’s breathless and frayed. You want to tell her that it feels like it might be. Like something irreversible just clicked into place. Like your whole reality is shifting on its axis.
Ellie reaches up, one hand tracing the hem of your shirt absently, thumb brushing just under the fabric at your side. Her eyes are half-lidded, lips parted and soft. “Wanna make out?” she asks, voice low but clear.
You freeze. Not because you don’t want to, but because you do. So badly. And there’s something terrifying in the want, in how deep it goes. Your eyes flick down to her mouth—those pretty, pink lips, slightly chapped.
Then up, across the slope of her cheek and the soft constellation of freckles dusted there like stars arranged by some careful hand. But it’s her eyes that stop you. Shining green, rimmed red from the smoke, glassy and warm, looking at you like you're something worth waiting for.
You nod once, a small, shaky thing.
Ellie waits patiently for you to bring your lips to hers. Her mouth moves against yours with a confidence that makes your head spin, all warmth and friction and the faint taste of weed and the cherry candy she had earlier.
Her hands are still firm on your hips, pulling you down just a little harder into her lap, and you can feel her now—every solid inch of her body beneath you, the heat of her chest rising with each breath, the flex of her thighs between yours.
She moans into the kiss, soft but needy, like the sound is pulled from somewhere deep in her chest. It shoots straight through you, lights something molten in your belly. The sound of her, the sound of Ellie, makes your hands curl uselessly at your sides for a second, overwhelmed by the sheer fact of her—real and warm and under your fingertips.
You gasp into her mouth, the sharpness of it involuntary, like your body forgot how to hold onto air. She responds immediately, like that breath cracked something open, like it gave her all the permission she needed to take more.
Her tongue slips against yours, teasing and just a little greedy, and it makes your whole body tremble. You're already so far gone, drowning in the feel of her and the heat pooling low in your stomach.
Her hands slide up your sides, under your shirt, rough fingertips dragging across your skin. The touch is firm, exploratory—like she's trying to map you by feel alone. One of her hands cups the back of your neck, the other still guiding your hips, keeping you pressed down against her like she doesn’t want to leave a single inch of space between your bodies.
And then, in one smooth movement, she shifts her weight and flips you so that your back hits the mattress and she’s hovering over you, bracing herself on one elbow.
Her knee nudges between your thighs, spreading you just enough to make your breath hitch. Her eyes flick up to your face, checking in, but her hands don’t pause.
They find the hem of your shirt, and with a smooth tug, she pulls it over your head. The fabric lands somewhere on the floor, forgotten. Ellie stares at your bare chest for a long, beat-heavy moment, a little awestruck.
“Your tits are awesome,” she says, dazed and in awe like they're the first tits she's ever seen.
You blink, momentarily stunned by the absurdity of it all: Ellie Williams, hands all over you, mouth seconds away from following. And that's the shit that comes out of her mouth.
“Ellie, you’re such a loser,” you groan, throwing your head back against the pillows. “This isn’t gonna work if you keep saying stupid shit—”
Your voice cuts off in a strangled gasp as her thigh presses flush against your pussy and her mouth closes around your nipple. Heat blooms sharp and sudden in your core. You glance down and see her immediately lost in it: lips wrapped around you, one hand groping your other breast with no finesse, just greedy, desperate need.
The fabric of your shorts offers barely any barrier. The friction is heady and immediate, each grind of your hips sending sparks through your spine. You bite down on a moan, hips moving on instinct, chasing pressure and the promise of release.
Ellie doesn’t seem to care whether you’re loud or quiet; she’s too busy sucking, nipping, groaning low in her throat like it’s turning her on just as much. Maybe it is. You feel yourself clench around nothing, pulse fluttering as you grind harder against the muscle of her thigh.
Eventually, she pulls back from your chest, lips flushed and wet, face shining faintly with spit. Her pupils are huge.
“I wanna eat you out,” she says, voice wrecked and breathless. “That cool?”
You nod, lifting your hips before the words even settle in the air. Ellie’s already pawing at your waistband, hands feverish and eager. She yanks your shorts off like they’re in her way (they are) and flings them to join your shirt on the floor.
Then she slides down the bed, smooth and certain, hooking your legs over her shoulders like they're also in her way. She presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh and mutters, almost to herself, “Can’t believe you were gonna act like you didn’t want this.”
Her thumb glides over the damp patch on your panties. She groans, loud and entirely unashamed.
“You’re fucking soaked.”
She hooks her fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulls them down slower than your shorts because she’s too busy staring at what’s underneath. Her breath hits your skin before her mouth does, warm and unsteady.
“Fuck,” she whispers, like she didn’t expect you to be this wet. Like she’s never seen anything better in her life.
And then she’s on you.
No preamble. No teasing licks or featherlight touches. She dives in like she’s starving, mouth hot and open, tongue slipping between your lips, nose pressed flush against your clit. Her hands grip your thighs tight, fingers digging in like she’s anchoring herself, like she’ll drown if she lets go.
She groans as she eats you out, loud and unashamed, the sound vibrating through you. Her tongue moves in messy, desperate circles, lapping at everything, dragging slow and then fast over your clit. She buries her tongue as deep as she can get it like she’s trying to memorize you with her mouth, get drunk off how you taste.
You can’t help it. Your hips buck, thighs twitch, fingers curling in the sheets. You try to keep quiet, but a strangled moan slips past your lips anyway.
Ellie hums, pleased, and doubles down. She tongue fucks you like she’s got a point to prove, like she won’t stop until she’s wrung every last bit of pleasure out of you.
Her spit’s everywhere, dripping down her chin, smeared across your inner thighs. She doesn’t care. She keeps going, licking and sucking and moaning into you.
Your thighs start to shake. The pressure builds fast enough to feel a little embarrassing, and your voice cracks as you gasp, “Ellie. Fuuuck. If you don't slow down—”
She doesn’t. If anything, she moans louder, presses closer, and drags her tongue flat and hard over your clit until your whole body tenses. You twist the sheets in your fists, cry out, hips lifting off the bed.
Your orgasm slams into you hard and inevitable, your muscles locking up, thighs trembling around her head. You try to push her away, fingers weak as they tangle in her hair.
“Ellie, Jesus, okay, okay—” you gasp, trying to catch your breath.
But she just groans again, deep in her throat, and licks you slower now, gentler, but still relentless, like she’s chasing every last aftershock. It’s too much. Your body twitches, your legs clamp around her ears on reflex, and you whimper as you try again to shove her away.
This time she lets you, dragging her mouth off you with one last slow lick, chin soaked, lips shiny. She looks up from between your legs, hair a mess, pupils blown wide.
You’re still trying to remember how to breathe when Ellie crawls up beside you, grinning like the cat that got the cream. She reaches for her water bottle on the nightstand, unscrews the cap, and offers it to you.
“Drink,” she says. “You’re gonna need it.”
You take a few sips, pulse still thudding in your ears, and shoot her a wary look. “Ominous,” you say, taking a long drink of water. It rejuvenates you almost instantly.
Ellie shrugs, impossibly smug. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn't give you the strapping of a lifetime?”
She doesn’t even try to hide the challenge in her voice.
You raise an eyebrow, mouth curving as you sit up and set the bottle aside. “Psh. As if, Williams.”
That grin spreads, crooked and wolfish. “You asked for it.”
She stands, tugging her shirt off with one hand, exposing toned arms and abs. Her jeans hit the floor next, leaving her in just a black sports bra and matching briefs. She leaves the bra on but pauses at her dresser, rooting around with purpose.
You watch her with a raised brow until she pulls out a harness and a thick, dark purple silicone dildo—definitely above average in girth. Your eyes widen slightly despite yourself.
“You used that thing on all your hook-ups?” you ask, nose wrinkling just enough to tease.
Ellie snorts and flips you off without looking back. “No, dumbass. Bought it for myself. Broke it in solo.”
You hum, eyeing the thing again. “Okay, size queen.”
Ellie chuckles under her breath, buckling the harness with practiced ease. “Maybe. If you're good, I'll let you see just how true that is next time.”
You try not to let your face give you away, but something flickers there. A next time. You pretend not to care, to play it cool, but your throat’s a little dry again.
She notices. Of course she does.
The strap sits snug on her hips now, the silicone cock jutting forward obscenely. You’re still staring when she catches your eye.
“What?” she says, all faux-innocence.
“You’re such a slut,” you murmur, but there’s no heat behind it.
Ellie laughs, genuine and delighted. “Takes one to know one.”
You open your mouth to volley something back, but she’s already climbing onto the bed, hands sliding up your thighs again.
“C’mon,” she murmurs, voice lower now, more serious. “Turn around for me.”
Your heart stutters. You hesitate just long enough for her smile to turn predatory.
“On all fours.”
Your breath catches, arousal blooming hot and fast again as you shift forward, hands planting in the sheets.
You don’t look back, but you hear the pleased sound she makes. This is exactly how she wanted you. Her hands skate over your ass, squeezing once before settling on your hips.
“I’ll go slow,” she promises, a little too sweetly. “At first.”
You shift onto all fours, breath shallow, anticipation curling low in your stomach. You feel the mattress dip behind you as Ellie settles in, and then there's warm hands on your hips, smoothing up your back, tracing the dip of your spine.
“You're so fucking hot,” she murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “M'gonna fucking pass out.”
You barely have time to respond before her fingers are parting you again, two of them sliding between your folds, gathering the slick already pooling there. She groans under her breath.
“All this just from my mouth, huh? You liked it that much?”
Then she’s easing two fingers into you without resistance, and you have to bite your lip to swallow down the pathetic noise that threatens to spill from your lips.
“God...Els—”
“Mhm. I know, baby.” Her fingers curl just right, dragging against that perfect spot with infuriating precision. “You feel fucking incredible.”
She moves slow, deliberate, pumping her fingers in and out with growing confidence. The heel of her palm brushes your clit every now and then, just enough to make you twitch.
She adds a third finger, stretching you open with aching patience. It burns, just a little, but her other hand slides up to rub your back in slow, grounding circles.
“That’s it. Take it for me. Fuck, you’re taking it so well.”
You drop your forehead to the mattress with a whimper, hips starting to rock back against her hand. Your body sings with the pressure, the stretch, the rhythm she’s coaxing from you. And just as you start to fall into it, just as your thighs begin to tremble and your mouth opens to plead—
She pulls her fingers out.
You make a broken sound, high and desperate, hips rutting in the air for more. “Ellie, what the fuck.”
“Shhh, I got you,” she coos, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Just wanna give you the good stuff. You ready for me?”
You nod furiously, still trembling from the sudden loss.
She shifts behind you, taking her time, and then you feel the blunt head of the strap-on nudging at your entrance. Your whole body goes still.
“Breathe,” she says, low and steady, one hand bracing your hip while the other rests warm and reassuring on your lower back. “I’ll go slow. Just let me in.”
She starts to press in, inch by careful inch. The stretch is intense, not painful, but undeniably full, and your hands fist the sheets as your body fights the instinct to clench down. But you trust her. You stay open.
“That’s it,” Ellie breathes. “You look so pretty right now. Wanted this for so long. Fuck.”
You whimper, arching back toward her instinctively. She groans, grip tightening. When she bottoms out, the strap pressed snug to your ass and her hips flush with yours, she stills. Just breathes. You both do.
“Fuck,” she says again, like it’s all she knows. “You’re unreal.”
Your body twitches. You start to move. Tiny, needy little grinds, and Ellie’s breath catches behind you. "More," you mumble, cheeks burning with the shame of just how eager you are.
“Oh, that’s how it is?” she murmurs, her tone darkening with delight. “You want it that bad?”
You don’t answer. Can’t. You just keep rocking back into her, silently begging.
Her first few thrusts are slow, deep, dragging that thick length out almost entirely before easing back in. One hand stays anchored to your hip, the other presses firm between your shoulder blades, keeping your back perfectly arched.
“There you go,” she says, rhythm building steadily. “God, I couldn't have imagined it would be this fucking good.”
You moan beneath her, hips rolling in time with her slow strokes. It’s almost too much. Not in speed, but in depth, in heat, in the weight of her body and voice behind it all. Ellie’s hand never leaves your spine, firm and grounding, guiding the curve of you with every thrust.
“I could fuck you like this for hours,” she groans. “Just keep you here, dripping and begging.”
You shiver hard, the words sending a fresh wave of arousal burning through you.
You can scarcely believe this is your friend Ellie speaking right now. Ellie who you've heard say the dumbest shit you've ever heard is saying shit like that. It's almost impossible to reconcile.
Ellie’s pace stays steady for a while, deep and deliberate. At least, until she realizes your moans are being muffled by the sheets. “Fuck,” she mutters, pulling out of you suddenly.
You whine at the loss, already aching, already empty.
“I wanna see you,” she says simply. She flips you over like it’s nothing. “And now I can hear you, too.”
"You're such a fucking perv," you say breathlessly.
You barely get a breath in before she’s between your legs again, pressing the head of the strap back against your entrance. Her eyes lock on yours, wild and possession. And you're fairly certain that's not how friends-with-benefits are supposed to look at each other.
You're certain it's not supposed to be this intense.
Ellie as she pushes back inside with one smooth, devastating stroke.
You cry out, your legs falling open instinctively, your body arching to meet her.
“Oh my God, Ellie—”
She groans as she bottoms out, already starting to move with far less restraint now. Her tempo is vicious and sharp, her hips slamming into yours with unrelenting rhythm.
“You like that?” she growls, one hand finding your hip and gripping tight. It's tight enough you’ll definitely feel it later. “Like me fucking you hard like this?”
You nod frantically, too far gone for words. Her other hand slides between your legs, fingers immediately finding your clit and circling, relentless.
“You’re so fucking wet,” she snarls, watching where her strap disappears into you with glazed-over eyes. “God, listen to yourself — listen to how loud your pussy is.”
You can’t even be embarrassed. It is loud, wet and obscene with every thrust, slick and suctioned around the toy in a way that’s absolutely filthy. Her cock drags along your walls with each brutal stroke, hitting deep, deep, perfect.
Your hands claw at the sheets, mouth open in a silent moan, hips lifting to meet every snap of hers. You lift your hands, seeking something, needing something. You find purchase on Ellie's back, your nails digging into the firm muscle underneath.
You can feel something building again, this time too fast—tight and electric, coiling low in your belly.
“Yeah,” Ellie breathes, pace only getting rougher, more ragged. She seems to be spurred further on by you clawing at her. “You’re close. I can feel it. You gonna come for me again, baby?”
You try to answer, but all that comes out is a helpless sob.
She grins, feral. “That’s it. Don’t think. Just feel.”
Her fingers press tighter to your clit, her thrusts snapping harder, faster, punishing. She’s everywhere—on you, in you, owning every inch of you. You’re not even moving anymore—she’s doing it all, fucking you into the mattress, pulling you forward onto her cock with a desperation.
The tension inside you snaps like a wire pulled too tight. Your body locks up, and with a cry you can’t hold back, you let go.
A gush of wet heat floods out of you, legs shaking violently, your whole body spasming under her. The bed under you is soaked in seconds as your back arches cleanly off the bed.
“Holy shit,” Ellie gasps, eyes wide and reverent as she slows just enough to ride you through it. “You just—fuck, baby—look at you.”
Your thighs are trembling, chest heaving, vision going soft around the edges. She doesn't stop touching you, her fingers still gentle on your clit now, coaxing every last spasm out of you.
You’re floating, dazed and undone, gasping for air while Ellie presses her forehead to yours and whispers, “that was perfect.”
You're not sure how long you lie there in the aftermath. It could’ve been five minutes or fifty. What breaks through first is the press of her lips to your cheek. Then your temple. Then the tip of your nose.
“Hey,” Ellie murmurs. Her voice is warm and low, no trace of the rough edge from earlier. “You alive in there?”
You hum weakly in response, eyelids fluttering as she holds a water bottle up to your lips. “Drink for me, baby. You need it.”
You sip, and Ellie looks entirely too smug the entire time. When you finish, she sets the bottle aside and kisses you again. Cheek, brow, shoulder. Soft everywhere.
“I cannot believe you didn't tell me you were a little sex goddess,” she says against your skin. “We could'a been doing this for a long time.”
You breathe out a quiet laugh, your muscles too loose to do much else. Everything feels heavy and pleasantly sore but spent. Your thighs ache in a way that promises to linger for days to come.
At some point, Ellie's got you standing and wrangles you into one of her hoodies. It smells like her: cedar and clean laundry and something distinctly Ellie. The fabric is soft, and you feel like you could fall asleep right now.
She kisses your forehead, then coaxes you up with a hand at your back. “C’mon. Just to the bean bag.”
You let her lead you across the room before collapsing into the oversized bean bag with a soft grunt. It’s absurdly comfortable, swallowing you whole.
Ellie crouches in front of you, still half-naked and grinning, hands braced on your knees.
“You good?”
You nod, blinking slowly. “Think so.” A pause. You eye her for a beat, head tilted. “You want me to return the favor?”
Ellie’s smirk widens. She stands, stretching, and jerks a thumb toward the bed.
“Definitely. But not until I change those goddamn sheets.”
You glance back at the bed, where the evidence of what you just did is very, very apparent.
“Fair,” you murmur, trying to hide the way your face heats up.
Ellie just laughs, shaking her head as she grabs clean linens from the shelf. “Don't be shy now. That was fuckin' awesome.”
You sink deeper into the bean bag, hoodie pulled tight around you, and let yourself smile.
