warnings & content: androgynous office siren ellie, mean fem reader, assistant & boss (power dynamic), southern-to-city trope, degradation kink, praising and degrading names (whore, good girl), masturbation w/ fantasies, semi-public sex, spanking, hair-pulling, bondage (handcuffs), fingering (e! receiving), overstimulation, plot twist at the end.
"From the lenses of aesthetics, we see a persona in the populus. We see what we want to see of visuals displayed before us in a self-preserving act of courtship. We want others to understand us, even if just by a hair. These labels are not us. You must peel back the layers of the office siren and unravel her, and then she will feel seen."
She wears her face with a stoicism rather than the grimace hiding underneath the vessel, but it'll never do. It's a poker face, it's just what the people want to see.
It's the appearance that so unfairly contributes to the entirety of her presence. It isn't what she feels or the sensations in her body, but the way her strands of hair cling in union. It’s about blurring out the flaws like a filter, but it extends to her dialect, mannerisms, and individuality. So, she doesn't raise complaints when her polished, black Zappos leave blisters on the back of her feet. Her heels are always veiled by the study material; nobody will perceive the struggle; still, the struggle is great.
The world Ellie was thrown into was simply harsh, to put it in professional terms. When you grow up in a small town in which your bills aren't always paid and breakfast is pop tarts (off brand, may I add) over the five-course meal your peers perceive as simple, you don't understand much. Really, Ellie was used to her childhood of popsicles out of flimsy plastic packaging because she was so rural the ice-cream truck didn't stop by, a childhood consisting of the creek with the occasional snake rather than an inground pool and mud pies with ground-up locust shells as frosting on top.
The move from Mississippi to New York was originally to study astronomy at Wagner, a university with a modernized planetarium. Ellie took out loans with stars in her eyes and a dream to study beyond planet Earth, but things don't always work out. Apartments in New York are expensive, and bills pile up. So do papers and due dates.
Indeed.com proved useless, but a flyer with "hiring!" printed across it, a couple blocks from her unfurnished apartment, landed her a desk, a name-tag with "Ellie Williams" engraved onto it, and a bitchy boss whom she was the assistant to.
(-)
It's not like the nights she spent writing and studying useless information when all she wanted to be doing was getting hands-on with her major transferred into something valuable. Instead, she is simply a part of a system, and she is a meaningless employee in a five-floor building.
It raises the question of why she stays. Joel calls her often, and she picks up every time to hear it: "why don't you come back home?"
It's because Ellie is craving to be seen.
She doesn't quite know who she is. She knows attributes of herself that piece together a person to few and another person to many. Each part of her, from her hobbies to the color socks she wears, differentiates between who she is talking to.
Joel knows about the socks with the ugly green and tan print, her favorite pair that she used to lose almost every day. It's the pair that resides in her scratchy wooden drawer back in a nameless town she still holds in her heart, though she veils her southern accent in favor of what is nearly a monotone when clocked in.
To any coworker who is brave enough to ask, though none never will, her socks are plain white and at an appropriate length. Always the same, every single day.
That bitchy boss is the reason she stays and deals with it, though.
It's not exactly the tights that cling to your thighs in a picture screaming proactive, but you get away with it because you've got privileges in that five-floor building. It isn't the curve of your ass or the thought of your cleavage spilling out of your blazer that keeps her awake at night. She really wishes it was how you like to bend over on a random Tuesday and flash your black, lacy panties. They do hug your pussy lips nicely, though.
It's how insufferable you are.
Ellie should hate it, but it turns her on. Ironically, you put her in focus. Any time you near her desk, she adjusts her horrible posture and her foggy glasses, and she gets to typing out that summary you asked for an hour ago.
She is truly terrified of you. It would be prompt to say she fantasizes about you in the comfort of her own bedroom, but she is a leaking faucet in intimate white cotton fabric throughout the day, mind steamy at the most inconvenient times. It’s tortuous, but the filthiest parts of Ellie’s soul crave it, needs it. It seeps into her dreams and runs her ragged.
That same bitchiness that can ruin her day is what provokes the feeling within Ellie, though; you’re unlike any of those other corporate assholes. You don’t care about things that cease to exist to Ellie once she enters her apartment. You don’t care about anything that has to do with Ellie in any sense, shape, or form. Even if your eyes were physically forced in her direction, you’d still refuse to acknowledge her existence.
It drove her crazy at first. Ellie grew up with her elbows on the table and paper plates, not without proper decorum. Even your boss would be expected to treat you like a person, but you don’t. The only time you notice your assistant is when she fucks up, like the instance in which Ellie printed out the wrong stack of 20 papers. You truly did notice her presence that day.
You go against what New York has taught her–to be perceived, even if within a persona. A polite, grayscale persona within the likes of the people who call salt a seasoning.
It’s not to say all corporate jobs are so boring, but this office with these people? It’s maddening to want to be liked and understood all the same. It’s impossible.
Ellie hated you a year ago. The first week of her new job was hell because of you, loading her up on tasks she wasn’t acclimated to. She was sore from a desk job; it was pathetic.
You grew on her, though. The type of conditioning you pressed into her was entirely unintentional, but any natural human would fall for it. You ignored her for 99% of the time. It drove her insane. So, she began fucking up entirely on purpose.
And she had some shame to begin with, that little amount in her gut that made her want to hurl after opening the wrong excel sheet and printing it off. It went against what she had been forcefully trained for. Still, it became addicting. The days in which you had lectured Ellie for her behavior, she’d gone home and fucked herself silly to sleep. It was an adrenaline boost in her boring life.
It’s not all shameful, though. You remind her of home, the paint chipped off of the wooden house she was practically born and raised in. Ellie would go crazy surrounded by the same grey-hued people, but she has you. A sun, scorching her skin if she gets too close. Everyone else may as well be flecks of dust floating through space.
It’s a guilty pleasure of hers she shouldn’t indulge in, but she does it anyway.
(-)
“Boss?” Ellie tentatively calls from the doorway.
The sight alone is almost enough to make her drop to her knees with a foam cup still in her hands–lip liner overlines every corner she wants to kiss, and it makes her jealous to think that a simple cosmetic product gets to have you so intimately. The line of your cleavage from the way you lean forward slightly gives Ellie a small flashback to inside her apartment, her face buried in her pillows and ass up as she rubbed her clit for hours at the thought of your tits jammed in her face.
“Leave it on my desk.” You don’t look up to even acknowledge her. You always confuse Ellie’s head, heart, and cunt. It’s not the imaginable type of affection she craves, but she wants you to look up from your desk and at her. Today, she messed with her bangs for nearly 30 minutes and wore a new suit she had forgotten about in the back of her tiny little closet. She wants you to notice her. Fantasizes about what you’d say if you did look up.
“Get the fuck out of my office, you whore.” You’d scoff, “and don’t wear that again.” Ellie knows she’s in over her head; way too much of a masochist, but she can’t help it. You bring it out in her in the way you already talk to her. It wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration, would it?
Ellie carefully places the cup on your desk and awkwardly turns around, slightly stalling as she walks out. Her cunt catches a heart beat when she hears your voice. Just the tone, too.
“I asked for a caramel latte, Ellie. Hot. This is freezing cold..is this a tea?” You sigh, extremely exasperated.
“Sorry, ma’am. I must’ve forgotten.”
“Of course. You did this last week, too. I’m telling you, I really am about to write you up.” You still don’t glance up from your laptop. It’s impressive, really.
“No!–I mean, that won’t be necessary, ma’am. I apologize for the mix-up.”
When you finally look up, your eyes meet hers. Your eyes are sharp enough to slice into the part of Ellie that is already soft and weak for you. Her hands shake no matter how tightly she grasps the bottom of her vest.
“Sorry isn’t enough. Lock the door and strip.” You glance right back down at your bright screen and begin typing again.
“Wha–Excuse me?!” Ellie sputters, jaw on the floor. That is the last thing Ellie expected to come out of your mouth.
“Now. Unless you want that write-up? I’m sure you can’t afford it.” You smile, and it’s not toothy or cute. You’re a cold, heinous bitch. Your gaze is flat and uncaring, assuring Ellie that you don’t have an ounce of shame in you.
Ellie strips before you, though. She pulls off each layer of clothing until she is exposed, the light from the windows behind you leaving a vulnerable pit in her stomach.
You take her in from the front–chocolate-kissed hair brushing against her collarable as she frees it from its usual low bun; soft, delicate skin dotted and kissed with visible flecks of melanin; soothing, green eyes that intimidate most. You see right through them, though. There in her eyes lay pupils, enlarged and absorbent for you and only you. There she is, like your own lap dog. You’d be dumb to shoo her off.
“Good. Now, I want you on the ground. Be a good girl and bow down, I know you want to.”
She drops to the floor, her legs folded underneath her thighs. She descends until she meets the carpet, until it’ll form a strawberry splotch on the focal point of her forehead. Her body is folded up like origami, the curve of her butt resting against the back of her feet. She feels as though she is the process of an artist’s work. This is your design–she is simply the work in progress that you’ll turn inside out, brand her neatly as your masterpiece.
When her glasses fall from her face, she shivers. She does not move, though. Something within her needs to trust you.
(-)
Ellie doesn’t know how long it has been since you gave your first instruction. It could be minutes, could be an hour or two. All she knows is that she knows she is being watched by you, and it’s one of the most inexplicable feelings Ellie has stumbled upon.
The persona of a girl with auburn hair neatly slicked back save for the swoop of her bangs, freckles dotted across her cheeks but unmentioned in their character, a girl who carries herself high rather than as slumped as she feels and opts for sleek eye-wear instead of the bulky square lense, is slowly being unraveled.
The sudden heel in her back is a stab she recognizes, as she stares at the shiny red louboutins throughout the day when possible. Still, it’s an entirely different sensation to experience the very imprint upon her skin.
“You’re too stiff.” You press further despite your comment.
She doesn’t mean to be stiff; in fact, Ellie has dreamt of this moment, fantasized it in her mind for years. She should embrace it, but your words ring true. Her hands are balled up into tense fists, and she trembles.
The pressure on her spine leaves, but she still remains tense. Then, a soft palm climbs up her back from behind. Her heart-beat races close to her chest, wanting to keep to itself.
“Why?” The softness in the word is so intimate, Ellie would guess that such an utterance would be whispered into her ear. It was still loud and public, though.
“I..” She swallows, shivering slightly from both the temperature of your office; it’s as cold as you. “I’m not used to being naked in front of anyone like this.”
You spread your fingers upon her upper back until the webbed feature of your hand threatens to strain. “Are you a virgin?”
That raises a small scoff from Ellie, but you don’t use the response against her. It’s a moment of vulnerability and trust as opposed to pure sexual lust and the promise of consequence that awaits. “No.” She adds in the form of a mumble, “it just feels weird. I’m used to being.. err, professional.”
“You don’t need to be, not in here.” Your hand leaves her back, but she is pried from her lowered position when you cup her face, pulling it up until her eyes meet yours. “I want to see you for what you really are.” You patiently swipe your thumb across her bottom lip. “Take you apart and see what you are beyond this little act I know rely on.”
Ellie easily relaxes with you now. Her eyes don’t simply look into yours, rather absorbing the stare you offer to her from above.
“I know you think about me. Tell me what you fantasize about.”
She holds a moan in her throat, just barely keeping it beyond her tongue. When she hesitates with her answer, you squeeze her cheeks together. “I’m not touching you properly until you do.”
When you step back, Ellie scrambles with her feelings. All of those fantasies she so passionately lived in now feel pathetic, yet it’s a guilty thrill.
“I have dreams about you. Well, about you and I.” She admits, eyes moving from a diversity of objects and decoration in your office before meeting yours. “I have dreams about you–”
“Bending you over my desk?” You interrupt, a casual lilt in your tone that makes her jaw lower.
“How do you know about that?!” She gawks at you, cheeks as red as a field of strawberries.
“It doesn’t matter. But it’s true, isn’t it?” She nods, and you grin. “Yeah. Say it for me, then.”
“I..I dream about you bending me over your desk and fucking me.” She mutters underneath her breath, “hard.”
“Go on, then.” You step to the side, leaving her a clear, short path to your desk. The mahogany shines nicely. She can already imagine it–your fist full with her messy hair spilling between your fingers, and the other hand occupied with the dripping mess that is Ellie’s cunt.
She looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, clumsily trying to figure out if you mean it. You don’t falter in your gaze.
She unskillfully rises to her feet and approaches your desk. When the wood is just below her gaze, her head turns back to look at you. “You want me to just.. bend over?” She asks, slightly uncertain.
You only nod.
As if being naked isn’t exposing enough, she can feel your gaze on her. It’s not hard to imagine where you’re staring, either. Her fingers find the opposite side of the desk and fold to hold onto it tightly, a small distraction.
“There’s a pair of handcuffs in the drawer just below you. Take them out for me.”
That causes the girl to shiver slightly, but she obliges, loosening her vice-grip on your desk and retrieving a pair of fuzzy hand-cuffs from your drawer. She wants to ask why they’re in your office, but refrains.
Ellie quickly conjoins her wrists behind her back and feels the cold metal clink against them, a clicking noise when they’re firmly binding her wrists. She is now helpless to you.
And the sight she is–soles of her feet on the carpet, the harsh, bright light directly above casting over her ass to display every blemish and freckle. Exaggerated arousal seeps from between her folds, majora slightly hidden with dark, thick hair. The joining of her wrists causes her face to press further into the desk. She still trembles, though you can look right into her pussy and see her true feelings on the entire predicament. She craves your approval, but more, much more than that, she wants to be like the extra copy on your desk: to be shredded up and completely destroyed by you.
“Say what you want.” You trail your hand up her ass, wine-red manicured nails sinking lightly into the skin.
It’s all she can ask for, so she lets herself fall apart for you. Her hips shift, wiggling upwards. “Fingers.” Ellie mumbles, though a slight whine is clear in her voice.
But instead, all she gets is a light slap on her right ass cheek. She gasps and slightly lifts her head to look back at you. “What was that for?!”
“I know you’re not that stupid, you slut. I want a full sentence from you.”
A whimper leaves her lips when you spread the globes of her butt, leaving her feeling somehow more exposed than before. She knows you’ve completely unraveled her when she can hear every noise coming from outside the room, but doesn’t care. There should be something inside her twitching to do her job, to be a responsible assistant who doesn’t get fucked on her desk by her boss, but whatever it is left her the moment you told her to get naked.
“Hah–” your hands find purchase on both hips, pulling her ass back against you. The silky fabric of your skirt grazes her clit, making her involuntarily shiver. “I want your fingers. I want your fingers inside me.”
“Ask again.”
She huffs in indignation. “I did what you said!”
When you wrench back her head with a fistful of her auburn hair, the attitude in her disappears. “W-Wait, okay. I want your fingers inside me, please. I want to cum.”
You release her head and card your fingers through her hair. “Yeah?”
She bobs her head reverently. “Yeah. Please.”
(-)
Ellie knows that some things are to be regretted in life. There are choices made that she just has to learn to live with. Regret can be temporary: that break-up from high school, procrastinating a research paper for the 12th time a semester, moving far from Mississippi. A better term for those temporary regrets is doubt.
The uniform life she lives doesn’t have room for doubts, though they fill her mind. She has great doubt in whether some of her coworkers actually like her, or if it’s simply courtesy. There are plenty of doubts about her skills in her position; she never had to sit and answer emails, organize, and run errands all day in the South. Her job from the age of 16 was at a rest stop, the only rest stop in the dinky town. She was used to being on her feet and having short conversations with tired travellers in the dead of the night. The office is like a maze to navigate, and she is a mouse blindlessly chasing cheese. It raises doubts.
Being bent over your desk and finger-fucked leaves her head empty for once. If her skull wasn’t currently emptied out onto your nice desk, she would want to feel regret upon begging so fervently for this. You’ve made her cum three times already, and she isn’t sure how much more her quaking body can handle. She can’t think about anything but the pleasure stinging deep inside of her body, though.
Three fingers plunge in and out of her pussy, the office once as uneasily silent and cold as ever now humid and echoing with the noise of her dripping hole being stuffed full to the brim with your digits, her moans still loud even with her face pressed against the desk.
“You’ve got one more in you, baby. I can feel it.” Only a whorishly loud whine in response. “This greedy pussy swallows my fingers up whole, doesn’t it?” You coo, but the tone is less maternal and completely condescending.
“Fuck,” Ellie cried, more strained as she raised her hips to take you deeper. The past ten minutes of being brought to her fourth orgasm has been an alternation of squirming away from your overwhelming touch and backing herself further into it for more.
“Is that all you have to say?” You tease, twisting your fingers up into her until you feel the ribbed section of her walls, the most sensitive spot. She just melts into the desk and takes it, moaning little incoherent phrases. Drool trickles down the corner of her lips and onto the wood, but you don’t worry much of it. It’s cute.
“More. Fuck me harder, please. Wanna cum, need to cum around your fingers–” she rants on aimlessly, wrists shifting against the cuffs.
“Yeah? Go on, then. I’m not stopping you, baby. Cum for me one last time.”
Just as suddenly as it happens, it ends. Ellie jolts forward, no longer in your standard office, but in her bed. Her wrists are not tied, but simply on either side of her.
“Jesus christ,” she rubs at her eyes before glancing over to her bed-side alarm clock. There, it reads 1 a.m in bright red. “When the hell did I fall asleep?”
She rolls back into her sheets on her stomach and closes her eyes, sleep surrounding her from each side; but as the invisible clock ticks, she feels wetness pool in larger amounts in her boxers. She groans, reaching for the half-dead vibrator on her nightstand, already knowing from experience that she will be up for the next hour.
farmhand!sevika x farmer’s daughter!reader. men & minors dni.
synopsis: you find a woman in your barn who looks suspiciously like the fugitive who remains wanted on your town's bulletin board. but you've always a soft spot for the strong ones.
cw: age difference, older woman/younger woman, outlaw!sevika, farmhand!sevika, farmer's daughter!reader, reader has curly hair, reader is in her twenties, reader is feral for sevika but tries to keep it cute, soft!masc!reader (i'm not sure if she counts as masc in this but that was the intention! i said soft bc there are times where she dresses overtly femme in the beginning), muscular!reader, strong!reader and sevika is insane about it, touch starved!sevika, soft!sevika, sevi getting praised and spoiled as deserved, petnames, non-sexual intimacy, seduction, dirty talk, praise kink, strength kink, you manhandle sevi like a mf, begging, cunnilingus, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, tribbing, face riding, nipple play, reader waxing poetic about sevi and pretty she is, dom!reader, pleasure domming, sub!sevika, bdsm elemetns, dom/sub, power play, subspace, implied switch!sevi, mommy kink (specifically mama!).
notes: guys i'm so fucking PISSED because tumblr deleted the fucking ask that made this even happen. but nonnie please know this is for you and i hope you love it, mama. also this got a little crazy. did not intend to write sub!sevi but then i was possessed and saw the light.
The morning mist hasn't burned off yet when you find her. In the barn's half-light, dust motes swim like sparks around the stranger's sleeping silhouette, her broad shoulders rising and falling against the hay. There's dried blood on her knuckles, you notice, but her hands are curled gentle as a child's against her chest.
Your daddy's shotgun rests steady in your hands, barrel aimed low but ready. The wild dogs haven't raised any alarm; they're curled near the woman like she belongs there. You watch her breath, take in the way her mouth hangs a little open like she’s aching to feed. Moths flutter against the high windows, their wings catching dawn's grey light.
"Daddy's gonna want to know why I didn't shoot you," you say softly, your voice carrying in the hollow space.
Your short hair tickles your jaw as you tilt your head, studying. You’ve chopped it for the summer and the heat you applied to it is lifting. You can feel the curls right bursting around your cheeks.
There's something about the woman's face - even in sleep, it holds a story you've seen somewhere before, maybe on that board in town square you've trained yourself not to look at too closely.
The stranger's eyes open - dark and steady as well water. She doesn't startle, despite the gun trained on her. Just watches you like she's reading something written in the air between you both, her gaze catching on the way your corset top pulls tight across your chest, the intricate lace trim exposing your shoulders to the morning air and accentuating the swell of your breasts.
"Would you have?" the woman asks, voice rough with sleep and something else. Her accent isn't local - has too many edges.
Your lips curl.
"Ain't shot a thing yet that didn't deserve it."
You shift your weight, dark jeans whispering against your boots. The corset suddenly feels more revealing under the stranger's gaze, dawn light playing across the ropy back. "You got a name?"
"Sevika." A pause, heavy as August air. "You always dress up to do barn chores?"
"Only when I've got a feeling about something." You step closer, morning light catching in your hair like a halo, shotgun lowering just slightly. You can smell gunpowder and road dust on her, underneath the hay. "Kitchen's got coffee on. Might even have some bacon, if you can convince me you're worth feeding."
Sevika sits up slow, careful, like she's trying not to spook a wild thing. Her shirt is rolled to the elbows, revealing forearms mapped with scars and something that might be tattoo ink. "That an invitation or an interrogation?"
"Guess that depends on what kind of answers you give."
You rest the shotgun against your shoulder, turning toward the barn door, letting morning spill across your exposed skin. You don't look back - don't need to. You can feel Sevika's eyes on you like a physical touch, can hear the soft grunt as she stands.
The horses shuffle in their stalls, steam rising from their backs. Outside, a rooster crows - late, like always. Everything's waking up slow and sweet, the way summer mornings do.
Your pulse thrums steady in your throat. There's danger in this - in the way Sevika's boots fall into step behind you. But you've never been one to let fear stop you from taking in strays. Even ones that look at you like they'd like to devour you whole.
As you walk, you can tell that she’s drinking in the sight of the farm as strangers tend to do. The acres go for miles, the sky straining and stretching across its great, green rolling body. Most of the buildings—the farmhouse, the barn, the bustling chicken coop—were built raised by your mother’s hands. She was an architect romanced and rescued by your father, though you suspect she did the rescuing more than him.
You shimmy a hand down the downy back of one of the newest calves, nose scrunching with affection as he moos back at you. Eventually the house looms before you, the windows popped open and laundry swaying outback despite the expensive machine your mother couldn’t do without.
“You comin’?” You murmur, and Sevika blinks from where she’s been watching you stand in the doorway, your back well-muscled and strong.
⟡ ݁₊ . 🌱🐄🧺 ⟡ ݁₊ .
The screen door snaps shut behind you both with a familiar whine. Morning floods the kitchen through tall windows—your mother's insistence on "proper light for proper cooking"—and catches on the copper pots hanging above the island. The coffee pot gurgles its last, right on time.
You set the shotgun in its place by the door, muscle memory, though you keep half an eye on Sevika as she takes in the space. The kitchen tells its own stories: your mother's architectural drawings spread across one end of the table, your daddy's mud-caked boots by the back door, fresh-cut flowers in a Mason jar that catch the light just so. The dishes on the side of the sink are speckled stone, sanded and glazed by the artistry of your older sister. The washing machine hums through the wall, keeping time like a heartbeat.
"Sit," you say, gesturing to the worn oak table. It's been scratched and stained by three generations of family suppers, and something in you stirs at the sight of Sevika pulling out a chair—this stranger inserting herself into your history. "Less you'd rather stand."
She sits, those capable hands folding on the tabletop. Her shoulders are still coiled tight, ready to run, but her eyes follow you as you move through the kitchen's familiar dance. Two mugs from the cabinet (your favorite and daddy's backup), bacon from the icebox, cornbread left from last night.
"Sugar?" you ask, though you've already reached for it. The container clinks against your rings as you set it down.
"Black's fine." Her voice is softer in here, like the domesticity of the space has gentled her edges. But when you lean past her to set down her mug, you catch a whiff of leather and gun oil beneath the barn hay. Your curls brush her shoulder, and you feel more than hear her sharp intake of breath.
You take your time settling into the chair across from her, adding three sugars to your own coffee with deliberate movements. Your mother would be appalled at you entertaining company in just a corset top, but there's something thrilling about the way Sevika's gaze keeps catching on the lace trim, on the exposed line of your collarbones, the rise of your breath.
You let her observe because you’re doing the same. Sevika is gorgeous, the kind of beautiful that sinks deep inside of a woman and wears her out. Her grey eyes are like two beacons and they remind you of the deer you’d beg his father not to shoot. The ones you would run after, flapping your arms to get them to scatter.
Her face is almost ridiculously romantic, with a strong nose sitting pretty in the middle that reminds you of royalty. Her eyes are never-ending, a pit that gapes into who she is. Her skin is textured, as it gets when you’re (allegdly) living on the edge of the law. You can tell she’s older than you without her saying it. Something about her radiates maturity, the same as your mother who’s practically seen the world rise and fall.
"So," you say, watching her over the rim of your mug. "You gonna tell me what brings a woman like you to sleep in my barn? Or do I need to go take another look at that board in town?"
Her jaw tightens, but she doesn't flinch.
"Would it change your mind about the bacon if I did?"
"Depends." You lean back, let your chair creak against the floorboards. Through the window, you can see the laundry dancing on the line, your mother's favorite dress a splash of yellow against the morning sky. "On whether you deserved what put you there."
Sevika's fingers tighten around her mug, and you catch sight of old burns across her knuckles. "Most things ain't that simple."
"Most things worth protecting ain't either." You slide the plate of cornbread toward her, a peace offering. Your voice softens; you were never good at acting hard. "Eat something, sugar. Then we'll talk about what kind of work needs doing around here, if you're planning to stay.”
Something shifts in her expression—surprise at the endearment maybe, or relief. When she reaches for the cornbread, her sleeve rides up, revealing more of that tattoo. It looks like a snake, or maybe a dragon, curling up her arm. You wonder how far it goes, what other stories her skin might tell.
The washing machine clicks into its spin cycle, and somewhere outside, your daddy's truck rumbles to life. The morning's moving on, and there's work waiting. But for now, you let yourself sit in this moment: the sun warming your bare shoulders, the quiet sounds of Sevika eating at your family table.
“I suspect,” she says, her throat bucking as she swallows, “that your parents will have a bit more sense about hiring a fugitive for farm work.”
You shrug, pick a corner off the cornbread on her plate.
“Everyone out here is struggling. We all need someone or something. The only reason we’re faring slightly better is because this place was paid off as an anniversary gift by my grandparents.” You glance out the window. “Plus, I’m my daddy’s favortite. He tends to listen to me.”
There’s something sad about the way you say it, as if it aggrieved you to be so loved. But the moment passes and you’re looking back at her, lips full and curved like the moon.
“It’ll be good for us,” you decide and she lets it go. “Get seconds if you’d like, sugar. I'll intercept them.”
“I’m older than you,” Sevika rumbles and you hide a smile, cock your hip out as you grab a basket for the chickens.
“Doesn’t make you any less sweet on the eyes.”
At that her head ducks down and you laugh, the sound clear and bright like a bell.
⟡ ݁₊ . 🌱🐄🧺 ⟡ ݁₊ .
With that Sevika finds herself hired as a farmhand under the stern eye of your father and the knowing eye of your mother. The work is honest and she relishes being able to lose herself in it, settle into the rhythm and flow of this little world your blood has built.
She doesn’t know what to do with you however.
Now, Sevika has lived several lives at this point. In fact sometimes she awoke in the night under the strain of them, the urge to run stampeding from where it sits behind her teeth and under the flat of her tongue. She understands on some level that women find her attractive, brooding. She’s unsurprised at the hints you keep dropping over the weeks. You probably find her intriguing, see her as a means to rebel with her older age and criminal nature.. (“I’m literally in my twenties, Sevika. ‘M not a baby.”)
At least that’s what she thinks at first. But then, she begins to doubt herself and overanalyze your rather…creative attempts to satisfy your coveteous nature.
The first is when she wakes up one early morning, the sky slurred between cotton candy pink and a warm lilac, to find you taking a bath in a two-bit shining steel contraption of a tub. Your body is trembling, but you seem at peace. Your curls are heavy and swollen with water, made longer by the weight of the moisture. She watches your back flex as you move, takes in the hidden strength of your arms and peeking thighs. Your muscle takes her aback, makes her stomach warm real down low.
She should move—your parents will be up soon—but you’re just so captivating when you’re kissed by the dawn. The water sloshes as you pour it over yourself, the underside of your breasts flashing as you soap down. And then you turn, peeking over your shoulder and gazing at her with faux-bambi eyes as you trace a hand up and over your chest to get your back.
She feels warm, teased in a manner that makes her throat squeeze and her hands clench. She doesn’t know what to do with this, doesn’t know how to naviage this eager rabid want that you show her so openly. And it just doesn’t stop.
But what really gets under Sevika’s skin is the kindness that you insist on bludgering her with, especially when no one’s watching. It’s genuine, unexpecting, and claws at her skin with tender phantom fingers.
Just the other day, Sevika had been unable to successfully ward off a duo of wolves and three sheep had been lost in her efforts. She’d apologized gruffly and repeatedly until your mother stepped forward and cupped her chin with a firm hand, telling her to “fuck off with this bullshit because it wasn’t intentional and you tried your best.” What was with you women and nurturing her?
After, Sevika had gone back to where the lasty wooly body lay—the small innocent bones of a lamb. She had felt sick at the sight because the lamb wasn’t a lamb in that moment; she’d seen something else. You saw the lean figure of her body as it bent over in some sort of grief, distraught at the sight of the dead animal beneath it.
Sevika, You had said with shining eyes. Are you alright?
Sevika had looked at you long and hard before making a noise from deep within her throat. Turning swiftly, she tried to block you off from the sight.
I don’t think you’ll want to see this, she’d muttered and you’d settled your hands on your hips.
I’ve lived this long before you were working here, you reminded her.
Sevika’s face was still broken in an open expression of confusion and remorse when you moved forward. Carefully, you swallowed the bulk of her body into the warmth of yours. You weren’t nearly as big, but you held your own and you held her fast. The two of you stayed just like that, with your hand tucked neatly behind her head as you steadied her.
Now, she watches as your broad shoulders dip as you kneel to pick up the limp body of a fallen chicken. These goddamn wolves needed to be dealt with.
It’s in their nature, sugar, you’d told her.
“Wait,” she calls out and you turn to look at her, your cheeks apple-full under the thicket of your lashes.
“Hmm?” you say back, your voice curious.
“Put gloves on if you’re gonna touch it. It probably had some sort of disease.”
Sevika walks closer, grabbing a spare pair of gloves she usually keeps for the other town boys who your father has helping him throughout harvesting week. She holds them out, those dark eyes glittering like grey moonstone.
You look up at her then, curls haloed around your soft face. They’re still kept short, dust your dimpled chin. You look so young and probably always would, the baby fat clinging to your cheeks like the hands of a lover. Sevika continues to gaze down at you, firm and unrelenting, and you smile gently as she eventually looks away.
You’re not moving fast enough, so she crouches down and takes your hands, sliding each glove on and making sure the fingers fit. She notes that your nails are square and glossy, painted an icy pink. You watch with an affected air, scooping the small body up when she finally lets go.
“I’m sorry,” You say to the glassy eyes of the hen and Sevika’s heart seizes.
“‘M sorry, sweetheart,” she tells you, gentle and understanding.
You glance at her and then back at the animal you hold.
“No need to apolgize, you didn’t do anything wrong. Can you help me dig a grave for her?”
Sevika doesn’t know if it would really be worth it to bury it, but you’re a little sad and so obviously cold in your oversized cotton tee and denim shorts. Your skin lights up with the mid-afternoon sun and Sevika can see all of your goosebumps and the fine dusting of hair.
“I—sure,” she agrees and You nod, walking away and trusting her to follow.
Before you begin to lead the march, you turn back and cup her elbow.
“Thank you, sugar.”
And that’s all. She wants to fucking eat you.
You continue to unravel her expectations like cotton thread.
You catch her before dawn another morning, when the sky's still tender with sleep and dark like the evening is loath to leave. She's checking the fence line, and you appear like a vision with two thermoses of coffee and your father's old flannel draped over your worn dark green longsleeve. When you pass her the coffee, your fingers linger on hers longer than necessary.
"Thought you might be cold out here, sugar," you say, and the endearment makes her throat tight. She's not used to being the one called sweet things.
You settle beside her on the fence, close enough that she can feel your warmth. The morning fog rolls across the fields like a dream, and Sevika finds herself watching the way it catches in your hair and the bones of your fingers, how it makes you look ethereal and solid all at once.
"You don't have to keep doing this," she says roughly, though she cradles the thermos close.
"Doing what?" Your voice is innocent but your eyes are knowing.
"Taking care of me. Bringing me things. Being..." she gestures vaguely, unable to name the way you make her feel seen.
You laugh, and she shivers. "Sugar, has it occurred to you that maybe I want to? That maybe I see something in you worth cherishing? That I’m just being genuine?"
The word ‘genuine’ hits her like a physical thing. She ducks her head, unused to this kind of naked affection, but you just reach over and touch her jaw with gentle fingers.
"You're allowed to let someone be sweet on you," you murmur. "Even if you're pushing forty."
There's teasing in your voice, but your touch is reverent. Sevika wants to protest—about the age difference, about her rough past, about how someone as bright and whole as you shouldn't want someone as weathered as her. But you're looking at her like she’s the human version of the Promised Land, and all her arguments die in her throat.
"I don't know how to do this," she admits, voice barely above a whisper.
"Do what?" You're stroking her jaw now, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth.
"Nothing. I need to get back to work."
You lean back, let her go.
“If it’s about learning,," you call, your voice trailing after like smoke, "the good thing is that I'm a real good teacher."
The next time I’m in town, she thinks, I need to buy a pack of damn cigarettes.
⟡ ݁₊ . 🌱🐄🧺 ⟡ ݁₊ .
From then on, you start to learn her tells. Like how she always positions herself between you and any perceived threat, how her hands flex when she's trying not to reach for a weapon that isn't there anymore. How she startles, less now, when you're gentle with her.
You catch her in the barn one afternoon, trying to wrap her own ribs after a particularly rough day breaking the new stallion. Her knuckles are white with the effort of reaching around, face drawn tight with pain she won't admit to.
"Sugar," you say softly, and she freezes like a spooked deer. "Let me help you with that."
Her eyes dart to you, then away. "I've had worse."
"Ain't about what you've had." You cross to her, boots quiet in the hay. "About what you deserve now."
You take the bandage from her callused fingers, and she lets you - that alone feels like a victory. This close, you can see the way her breath catches when your fingers brush her skin. Like caring for her is its own kind of violence.
"Lift your arms for me, darlin'," you murmur, and something in her expression cracks when you call her that. Like she can't quite believe the sweetness in your voice is meant for her. But she obeys, raising her arms slowly, letting you wrap her ribs with careful precision.
"You don't have to-" she starts, but you shush her.
"I know I don't have to. Want to." Your fingers trace a scar on her side, old and silver in the afternoon light. "Anybody ever just take care of you, Sevika?"
She doesn't answer, but the way she trembles under your touch says enough. You secure the bandage and let your hands linger on her waist, thumbs brushing bare skin above her jeans.
"Well," you say, pressing a lingering kiss to her shoulder, right where that dragon tattoo curls toward her neck, "better get used to it. I take good care of what's mine."
Her sharp inhale sounds like thunder, and when she turns in your arms, her usual swagger is nowhere to be found. Just vulnerability, raw and beautiful as a sunrise. You cup her face in your hands, thumbs stroking her cheeks, and she leans into your touch like she's starving for it.
"When did you decide tha?" she asks, voice rough. "That I’m yours?"
You smile, soft and sure, and smooth out the furrow in her brow. "You were mine the moment you settled onto my land, sugar. Just took us both a minute to catch up."
And maybe you came on too strong, ‘cause she yanks herself back and straightens her shoulders.
“Thanks.”
You sigh, loud and irate. She’s so fucking—
“No problem, honey.”
⟡ ݁₊ . 🌱🐄🧺 ⟡ ݁₊ .
It happens during the last heat of summer, when the air sits thick as honey on your skin. You're in the barn, having just finished moving hay bales—work that would've taken twice as long if you weren't so used to it. Your blue and white bandana top clings to your chest, sweat stealing out from under it, and you can feel Sevika watching you from where she's meant to be fixing the tractor. You arch your back a little more, make sure to display the way your little rose-bud panties poke over the worn mouth of your lightwash, knee-length jean shorts.
You've caught her looking more and more lately. Noticed how her eyes track the contraction of your arms when you're lifting feed bags, the way she startles when you easily hoist yourself into the saddle. Like she can't quite reconcile your soft curves with the strength beneath them.
"You gonna fix that tractor, sugar?" you ask without turning around, smile curving your lips when you hear her shift. Your desire is practically shaking the bones of your teeth."Or you just gonna watch me work?"
Her throat clicks.
"I’m—I'm nearly done."
You hum, reaching up to stack the last bale. Your shirt’s knot loosens a little ‘round your back, exposing the dip of skin, and you hear something metallic clatter to the floor behind you. When you turn, Sevika's staring at you with those storm-grey eyes, wrench forgotten at her feet. There's grease on her forearms, sweat at her temples, and she's looking at you like she's finally ready to break.
"Something wrong?" you ask innocently, crossing to her. Your bare feet are silent in the hay.
She swallows hard when you reach her, especially when you grip the tractor's edge on either side of her, caging her in with arms that could just as easily lift her. "You know exactly what you're doing."
"Do I?" You lean closer, letting her feel the strength in your body. "Tell me what I'm doing, sugar."
Her hands flex at her sides, like she's fighting not to touch you.
"You're driving me crazy," she admits roughly.
“Oh,” you whisper, pursing your lips. “Do I make you nervous, baby?”
She flushes, tries to scramble back, and you laugh, soft and low.
"Driving you crazy, huh? Only fair. You've been driving me crazy since I found you in my barn." You trace a finger down her jaw, feeling how she trembles. "The way you look at me when you think I can't see. The way you try so hard to be good, to keep your distance."
Your other hand finds her hip, grip firm. You squeeze them in warning.
"I've seen how you watch me work. You like that I'm strong enough to handle you?"
She makes a broken sound, head falling back. "[Name]."
"I've got you," you murmur, and then you're lifting her onto the tractor's edge like she weighs nothing, stepping between her legs. Her eyes go wide, pupils blown, and her hands finally, finally come up to grip your biceps. "Been wanting to do that for weeks. You know you gotta tanline right here?"
You finger the thin edge of her boxers from beneath her jeans,
"Christ," she breathes, fingers tightening on your arms. "You're gonna kill me."
“Are you religious? That’s cutesy,” You smile, pressing closer until you can feel her heartbeat racing against your chest. "Nah, sugar. Just gonna take real good care of you." Your hands slide up her thighs, feeling the way she shivers. "If you'll let me."
She answers by pulling you into a kiss that tastes like summer storms and surrender, and you smile against her mouth. You've got her right where you want her—trembling and warm in your capable hands.
"That's it," you whisper when you pull back to breathe, one hand coming up to cup her face. "Let me handle you, mama. Just like you need."
And Sevika, who's spent years being the strong one, the dangerous one, the one who protects—she lets herself fall into you, lets herself be gentled by your hands. Maybe this is what surrender feels like: not a defeat, but a coming home.
⟡ ݁₊ . 🌱🐄🧺 ⟡ ݁₊ .
Your most prevailing thought is that you’re pissed you didn’t get to see Sevika like this earlier.
Her back arches beautifully, her chest rising with pleasure as you hold her down on the floor by the hips. Your mouth is relentless, suckling at her warm pussy with fervor. She tastes sweet and she’s so soaked, her arousal dribbling out of your mouth and onto your chin. You hum as she roots a hand in your hair, tugging harshly as she grinds down in tight little circles.
She’s whimpering, high breathy sounds that you’re determined to keep streaming from her slick lips. She’s still quiet, as you expected, but Christ does she want it. You let her use you, sliding your hands from her hips up to cup and grope her tits. Her nipples are erect, so hard and pretty and pointed toward heaven like she’s trying to tempt God. She’d probably succeed.
The sun slips through the slats of the barn and it illuminates her skin, the brown of it so warm that you almost feel as if you’re both on fire. You slip your tongue into the tight clutch of her cunt, gently dipping back and forth so that you’re fucking her on your tongue, and squeeze her ass in silent demand. She digs her nails into you, moans loudly, but still doesn’t heed.
With a groan of irritation, you clutch her ass with a grip of steel and begin to bounce her on your face until she starts to see the bigger picture. Eventually, she’s moving on her own—fast and uncoordinated as that bright spiral begins to coil in her stomach.
“Oh my God,” she groans. “Just like that. Please.”
You pull away, spread her apart.
“I know, mama,” you murmur and then dive back in.
Her thighs come up around your head and you let her crush you, shaking your head like a dog in heat as you nurse and lap at her pussy. Above you, Sevika twists one of her nipples and you feel her body tense in response. You bring a hand up to rub at her clit, and she jerks.
When she cums, she’s so bright and beautiful—like a star imploding onto itself. Her legs fall open and she lets out a low whine, like an animal, her hips still circling as she attempts to ride it out.
“Hold on, mama,” you tell her. “I’m gonna give it to you.”
You move quickly, undressing completely and laying your body against hers. Your tits push into hers and she nuzzles into your neck, mind still hazy. You soothe her, digging a thumb into her lower back as you slip two fingers into the meat of her. She lets out a strangled yell at the overstimulation, but you hold her to it.
You fuck your fingers into her, until the squelch is more than obscene, watching as she shakes and writhes alongside you. You use your other hand to guide her to your mouth, kissing her messily as you introduce a third finger to her pussy.
“Oh,” she moans, low and raspy, and you coo at her. “Oh, shit. Holy—holy fuck.”
“Yeah? Does that feel good, baby? You have to tell me what you like.”
“I—mmm. Yes. Yes, it feels good. I need—I need—”
Sevika trails off, eyes wide and watery. You roll over, tucking her under you while you continue to finger her. You raise one of her legs, widening the angle, and she squeals. You laugh lowly into the seam of her neck before sucking the skin between your teeth, biting down and bruising her.
“What do you need, mama? More?”
“Yes, but—,” She blinks, attempting to clear her head. “I want you too. I want you to finish with me.”
“With you or on you?” You watch her face as you ask, eyes following the twitch of her brow. “Maybe in you?”
That makes her shiver, and you smile as you sit up.
“Whatever you want, baby,” you mutter as you manhandle her into how you want her. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
She shivers again and you pull her up, drawing her against your chest so that your tits are once again pressing up against each other. Carefully, you extend her strong legs over yours and inch forward until your clits catch. The friction is insane and your mouth drops open along the same time that Sevika goes ramrod straight.
You dive right in, fucking up so that your cunts slide and swallow each other. She’s so creamy, her previous orgasm sliding down her thighs. There’s a moment where your control dips, where she’s the one ramming the two of you together and leading you up so that you can grind harder until she stutters again.
Then it’s back and you’re holding her down, spreading her even further open as you rub your pussy roughly against hers. You need her to stay down, need her to take what you choose to give. Sevika is beneath you, trembling and open mouthed, and you stick two fingers down her throat ‘till she’s gagging wetly around them.
“Oh m’God,” you moan, your eyes never leaving hers. “You’re such a fucking slut, mama. Jesus.”
That does it and you feel her pour into you, thick and warm. You follow shortly after, rocking and pushing down against her as you chase the feeling. She’s sobbing, a hand coming up to grip at her throat as she tries to match your movements.
You slow, come to a stop, and stroke her face as you rise off of her. Tenderly, you kiss at her cheeks and eyelids as you sush her.
“I know, baby. You were so good. Such a good, perfect, strong woman. Hmm?” You kiss her temple. “You did so well, mama.”
She’s shaking, so you hold her until she’s less far away. You want to get up, get her some water and maybe something to eat but she’s holding you captive. Sevika turns into you, body big and curved like the moon come to earth.
The afternoon light paints everything gold, and you know you’ve got work waiting—always do, on a farm. But for now, you just continue to hold her. Somewhere outside, those wild dogs are keeping watch.
you thought they hated eachother, turns out abby was much fonder of ellie than you’d anticipated.
wc: 2.8k (smut)
ellie x reader x abby inspired by this - content includes threesome, voyeurism, spitplay, oral (r! eceiving), humiliation
─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───
you wouldn’t know how to explain it, it just happened.
it would be friday night, r&b backdrop and flickering through the pages of ellie’s sketchpad. neurons and faded cells from biology, some of which had been scribbled out of ire as you proceeded through the papers. “this is good.” you mumble to her, adjusting the bedsheets between you.
“biology? surprised you made it through college.” abby chips in, skin emitting enough humidity that wyoming winter condensated to basaltic arizonan sun under the covers. she raises an eyebrow at the inklings, jealousy when she sees how indulged you are with each page. a weight that feels so good to drop when she mocks ellie,
“leave her alone, she’s a good girl.”
only to feel much heavier put back when you stuck up for her; abby’s focus not letting ellie’s smirk of ha, get fucked to go unnoticed. it was ellie muttering that abby just wants to sleep with you, and becoming defensive when you’d justify your friendship. then it was abby telling you that ellie was too much of a virgin to make a move.
but like i said, it just happened.
at first, it was looking at abby for too long - the dreamboat way her freckles glinted with the tv screen ahead, a fantasy enough that when you’d realised you were both staring at eachother within the surrounding darkness, your vision all too hazy.
“what?”
“… nothing.”
and somewhere between, it was them taking turns kissing at your lips.
your vision blurs when abby initiates first, forehead nuzzling against yours for a few seconds with lustrous eyes closed. you’d made peace with the fact that oh, this is how we’re sleeping tonight, since it wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary for you to be so physically close on nights where ellie wasn’t beside either of you. but it feels just a tad too personal this time, a little more than merely affection when her nose feathers against yours; lips following just a few seconds later.
you thought it would be an accident, something that ellie would be too half-asleep to hear or remember.. but she knows what’s going on, not only from how gravely out of character you’re acting, but the way your hips instinctively roll into her thighs absentmindedly and the subtle sounds of lips smooching against eachother gives the faintest idea.
so daring.. fuck, why is she getting horny?
but she’ll stay silent, her suggestive fingers delicately framing your jaw, pivoting your head away from abby as she inches closer - ellie’s eyes not glossed with jealousy as expected, but rather indecency.
slightly hesitant toxin as she tilts her head and lips enrapturing yours. abby’s touch so concentrated that it left whatever pinnacle of sensation on your lips numb by the time ellie had even turned your head - but you delve in nonetheless, hand earthing itself against ellie’s cheek.
but of course, abby’s selfish at heart. seemingly pissy at how accepting you were of ellie’s affection; although her fingers patient and merciful at your jaw, awaiting her go and turning your head her way when she’d decided ellie had her fair share already, it didn’t make up for the patronising bite at your bottom lip.
her kisses petty and vindictive enough that you’d settle both hands on her shoulders, breath jagged - ellie remains tolerant, your sweetheart, pupils dilating when she deciphers the outline of abby’s tongue swiping at your own. she wants to touch herself, feel the wrath of raunchy bliss upon hearing your provocative sighs, but her fingers earthing themselves under your waistband instead.
something’s telling you that this isn’t about what you want, it’s about them getting even over your body.
and obviously, you aren’t so forgetting of it - you can feel the way her obscene fingers are discrete to slide your sweatpants off your hips, aroused by how vulnerable you were between their heating bodies with ellie’s thigh slowly caving itself between your legs. although she’s anticipating, hoping you’d do as she pleads, your hips are rolling into her with such greed that it doesn’t consider a second thought.
“lift up.” abby whispers against your jaw; your nipples hardening against the callous fabric of your shirt when abby’s fingers grip at the hem, skimming up when you arch your back. “that’s it.” she praises, lips lewdly shearing your collarbone and profanely sucking at your skin, feeding off the way it feels like satin under her fingertips, the small sighs and indications you were dismantling when your nipples peak from your shirt.
their eyes peppering against your breasts, ellie’s lips already instinctively slithering their way against the side of your ribcage. “pretty..” abby mutters, more to herself than either of you, her appreciation prompted by the stiffening of your body when she runs her fingers along the curves. you sigh when she pinches at your nipple, twitching into ellie’s side when abby begins to tenderly roll it between her fingertips.
“very pretty.” her eyes flicker to your face, dilating so suggestively that you’re tempted to believe you could see your reflection just looking her way. hues of sensuality drenching the blue globes when her lips lean toward your breast, tongue wetting them momentarily before the warmth of it flattens against your bud. and just like that, goosebumps an epidemic on your arms, her lips indecently sucking at your nipple like she was trying to draw milk from it - the sensitivity overbrimming your left side that it seemed like utter betrayal when the right side started to replicate it, ellie’s lips tenderly attaching itself to your other breast.
and then, it was both of them planted between your legs.
your slit at the mercy of their vulgar touch. you’d learnt that although ellie was predominantly a tease, abby was impulsive, lips already resting at your inner thigh and fingers delicately tracing your clitoral hood. your thigh settles against her shoulder, quivering not only from the impending heartbeat in your clit but the chasmic contrast between her searing cheek and your bitter skin.
and ellie will stare at how abby leans in, tongue streamlining your slit so precisely; the way it artistically traces your erect clit enough to get her mouth watering - because although something in her gut is telling her this may be competition at stake, she’s finding that working with abby feels easier than working against her.
so she shuffles closer, and unprompted, abby shows her leniency - head up and leaning against your thigh. from common knowledge, ellie was vanilla - you’d expected abby to take such a lead that it would be hard for her to chip in, so it reasonably packages itself a surprise when you feel a tongue so silken compared to the other flick against your clit.
“fuck.” you sigh. you know abby’s staring with those feral eyes, edging herself with the luxury of being able to observe your twitching legs.. clenching abdomen and dazed eyes that avoid looking back at her. but it’s when she notices your hips flinch, lips parting with such succulence she has to bite at her own to repress the urge of finishing you off for herself - looking over to see ellie’s fingers delicately spreading you open, tongue masterly burnishing your clit.
“keep doing that.” abby mutters, taking note of the way your stomach flexes; the resistance of your thighs against her palm with every stroke of ellie’s tongue against your cunt. “hm?” ellie hums, eyebrows raised in disruption when she hears abby murmur - she’s about to sit up, if it wasn’t for abby’s hand earthing itself into the roots of her hair and pushing her tongue further onto your clit.
you whine when ellie’s tongue possesses a grating touch, lapping itself at your bud disgustingly enough that abby notices the jewels of spit sailing from ellie’s lips into your hole. “that.” abby notions, fingers still burrowed into ellie’s tawny roots; it’s then that ellie feels as though she’s not trying to please you, but abby. she’s passing a test of satisfaction, aiming to perfect an impressive performance for her, and it makes her feel physically fucking sick at the realisation.
but she’ll continue slurping at your cunt, doe eyes that look up at your body; your breasts shiny, hair adhesive to the fabric of your beige pillows, looking like too much of a fucking showpiece that she can’t resist the urge to glissade her forefinger down your slit.
you’re morbidly soaked, how crudely wet she’d made you from her lips - teasingly gliding the same finger inside of your hole at an angle. an angle that gets your back arched just how she wanted it, gets your hands groping at your breasts, sighs of relief and begging that gratifies them both. enough for abby to slowly lean forward, cheek brushing against ellie’s, and tongue inhumanely whirling at your clit.
“please let me..” you quiver, rubbing their saliva into your nipples to aid your brewing orgasm. you can feel both of their tongues whipping against eachother, lips predatory against your folds and hailstones of their spit polishing your cunt so slickly. “please let me this time.” you beg, vision blurring to tearful haze when you’re left verbally inept; ellie’s finger twining up inside, familiarising itself with every fucking nook until it finds it, nestling itself at that godforsaken motherfucking bullseye - cunningly pumping in and out.
you’re not sure if you’re crying at this point, cheeks sweltering with everything that abby anderson and ellie williams was made up of.. your whimpers only consisting of sloppy blether of please, please, please.
abby’s hitched breath against your slit, lips egocentrically sheathing your clit and harshly sucking, only leaving space for ellie to drink up what was merely leftovers below abby’s chin. the only thing you managed to feel through the ecstasy being the rampant drilling of ellie’s fingers inside of you, slapping against your folds with an erotic dampness.
you realise your hips are being pushed into the mattress to stop the pathological shaking, the tensing of your pelvis and indescribable desire to grind into their mouths that you feel the ether - impending orgasm in your core when their warm tongues lick at your swollen clit, throat closing up enough that you can’t make sound.
you’re coming. your hips explosive enough that even abby’s grip can’t restrain the whirring of them, the cyclical shaking of your voice as you yelp out for them. abby there and ellie here; your fingers desperately clawing for just a touch of their fingers, their hair, their shoulders- fucking anything. but you notice, even through your orgasm, that their tongues are still tenderly sipping at your brimming juices.. considerate enough to avoid your oversensitivity, but compulsive enough to start licking at eachother instead.
their tongues manipulative at their tips, fucking feral to the point both of them refused to swallow; diamonds of their saliva slowly pooling at your thighs instead.
and this is what it came down to, pre-eminence after all; their lips confrontational to merge, sloppy and full of ironic hatred. but they seem to follow eachother, ellie’s lips miraculously chasing abby’s as they sit up, breathless and conflicting when abby pulls herself away.
“you’re my bitch, huh, williams?” abby chuckles, her forehead humid against ellie’s, and you’d be naive to believe it was merely intimacy with the ignorance of their bloodbath history. but through the blood, sweat and tears - you knew abby was trying to flick that switch, and it was starting to wire itself up when ellie resists against her touch.
“fuck you.”
“say it.”
“fuck you.”
“say. it.”
but ellie stays wooden, eyes empty of feeling threatened. but it contradicts it’s intended purpose when you detect the challenged twitch in abby’s eyebrows, fingers slithering their way to frame ellie’s jaw so enticingly that even you could feel the ungodly grip from where you were. “no?” abby subtly shakes her head, other hand familiarising itself with ellie’s chestnut strands.
it’s demeaning, and you’re just about to scold abby - but the evocative glint in ellie’s stimulated eyes lets you know that you don’t need to.
“no.. okay..” abby squints, nodding with what seemed like artificial sympathy. and had you blinked, you would’ve missed the wrath in abby’s irises; narrowing with irritation as her fingers crawl themselves into ellie’s roots. “lay down.”
“are you fuc-“ ellie begins to hiss, only to become completely paralysed under abby’s demeanor - her sentence cut short when she’s suppressed into the mattress, back arched and ass up. and of course, she tries to resist, tries to wriggle away through the grunts and mutters - but eventually finds herself burning out, huffing with the acceptance that abby was just.. much bigger.
“this must be embarrassing for you.” abby mutters, free hand gliding itself down the arch of ellie’s back, lustful enough that you’re devouring the sight of her hoodie being rolled up slowly; her bare skin a saintly splendour, hem of her sports bra above her toned abdomen, so rugged and appetising.
but ellie’s eyes remain shut to avoid the humiliation of looking at you, especially once she feels abby’s fingers take charge of the hem of her jeans. abby was nothing more than merely resentment, a migraine after an hour’s walk in the blistering heat, and most politely a pain in the fucking ass. “but i gave you a choice.” abby sighs, her nails gliding along ellie’s hips.
“go fuck yourself.” ellie flinches when she feels a scorching palm strike her ass, withering with indignity.. enough that she keeps her eyes closed and focused on the mattress, trying to distance herself from the fact she’s vulnerable infront of you. and you couldn’t deny that this wasn’t the ellie you’d gotten so accustomed with - reserved, sure - but disciplined to the point she was nothing but a brat that needed taming?
and if you thought it was pathetic to look at now, the whimper ambling it’s way from ellie’s muffled lips isn’t overlooked when abby’s fingers sink into her underwear, submerging itself into her slit. “say it, williams.” abby leans over, a sinister whisper against her earlobe. “tell her you’re my bitch.”
but ellie, to abby’s dissatisfaction, still refuses; the only thing said being her suppressed breaths, which amplify when abby lightly taps against her drenched clit. but even abby seems astonished by how compliant ellie was, how much she relishes the shame, and it produces what only could be described as a breathy chuckle. “jesus..” her light taps developing into sordid strokes, which only encourage the impulsive grinding against abby’s hand. “you must like me a little, williams..”
it gets to the point where you start to feel envy at ellie’s convulsing hips, tensing abdomen. it worsens when you hear ellie start to whine, really whine, when abby’s finger descends into her hole. “ah-fuck.” ellie mewls, her marshy walls welcoming abby’s conflicting touch, maybe more than she’d like.
“come here.” abby reinforces that malicious grip on ellie’s hair, throttling her back until she can feel the homeliness of ellie’s spine against her chest. ellie’s made peace with it, her head settling back onto abby’s shoulder.
her feminine lashes fanning her cheeks, gorgeous lips parted so palatably that it was tempting to drink up the moisture from them, fingers that possessed such a desirable branch of arctic veins. clutching onto the fine and burly muscle of abby’s arms, not to stop her, but to hold on for dear life as abby’s finger starts to hammer into her without mercy.
and let’s just say, it’s one orgasmic sight. ellie’s inner thighs vigorous against eachother, trembling with every thrust of abby’s hand; squelching sounds from how wet she is, fingers sorely locking up from clenching so harshly on abby’s wrist.
“you’re my bitch, aren’t you, williams?” abby mutters, her consistency not failing to please - but the same can’t be said for ellie, who receives a malignant slap to the cheek when she doesn’t respond. too busy trying to readjust her breathing, the oblivious whines whenever abby seems to brutally wallop against her g-spot that her next sentences are rushed and distorted.
“uh huh..” ellie wails, sounds of abby’s fingers slapping against her cunt; cheek smeared with merlot from its previous dispute with abby’s palm, which seemed rather tame considering the friction between the two. but finally, abby feels that tinge of victory when ellie gives into her, angling her palm directly onto her clitoral hood.
“what was that? you’re my bitch, aren’t you?”
“yes, fuck yes..”
“say it.”
“i’m your bitch, abby.. i’m.. oh fuck..”
“atta’ girl.” abby praises. by the way ellie starts shuddering, hips clenching in primitive patterns, thighs parted filthily and the blood-raising tone of her resistless exhales lets you know she’s just came. you feel your clit flutter at the hostile sight of abby lowering ellie face down into the mattress, bitter tone that nosedives directly into ellie’s ear. “stay the fuck down, you hear me?”
and a part of you feels diminished when you see ellie’s head numbly nod, her fingers twitching against the mattress. but nowhere as near as the defeat of meeting abby’s eyes, sedating and carnivorous as she narrows you down, fingers still gelled with ellie’s cum when they touch your waist.
you see how i don’t throw a fit when someone writes a fic i’m not interested in reading? very mindful, very considerate, very demure. i’m not like you other girls who go on anon to tell writers you don’t like what they’ve chosen to write about. i simply do not read it and move on. very thoughtful. very cutesy.
bsf!abby groping your tits while you film for gf!ellie to see;
Abby’s hands went inside your shirt, squeezing and pulling your nipples between her fingers. Your mouth was open, small moans and whines escaping from you with every pull she gave on your hard nipples.
Your cellphone was in one of your hands, positioned to frame your breasts and her ministrations. Your faces were hidden, but you knew Ellie would recognize Abby. Her hands and breathless words would tell exactly who was touching you that way, making you shiver and moan. She wasn’t careful or gentle; she was pulling and pinching your skin hard, wanting — demanding — you to keep making noises.
With your jaw dropping, you stared at the image of yourself on the camera, your back pressed against her front, her well-toned belly showing under her shirt. When the sensations became too much, you couldn’t stop yourself from rubbing your thighs and your fingers went to your pussy, provoking yourself, caressing your clit over the thin fabric of your panties, making sure not to let that slide from the video.
“Can you see, Ellie?” she asked all of a sudden, stretching her hand to lift the camera to your faces. You had dropped your head on her shoulder now that you didn’t need to keep the cellphone in the right position. “She’s a fuckin’ whore for me.”
As if to prove her point, she squeezed your nipple between her thumb and index finger, making you whimper her name. Your eyes flew closed, enjoying the feeling of being exposed to your girlfriend through a camera, and to the girl she hated the most. Your best friend.
Abby gave you a kiss on the lips, pulling your bottom lip between her teeth and smiling at your moan. You looked at her and saw the smug smile she held when she returned to the camera, before throwing it to the side.
After Ellie received the video and returned home from her guitar class, it was her turn to mistreat not only your tits, but also your pussy.
Summary: Yet another cliche store of a friends with benefits arrangement blossoming into something that is so much more.
an: this went from something that I wanted to make a Drabble about, to remembering an awesome request that someone sent in, to mixing them both?? To the sweet nony that sent this, I hope this lives up to your expectations of me, and I thank you (and everyone else) for trusting me with something you’d like to see written out! I tweaked a few things, so I hope that’s okay. The ending is sooo rushed on this bc I really wanted to get something out to you all as quickly as possible so I apologize! As always, I love you all so so much. (P.S chapter two of vampire!Ellie is on the way!)
Warnings: MDNI!!, 18+, smut, angst, Ellie is a giant fucking player and had no intentions of settling down (or does she? 😏), Ellie is extremely emotionally unavailable, scissoring, lots of making out, lots of pet names, reader catches a cold, mentions of headaches, medicine, and just your general cold symptoms tbh, please lmk if I missed anything!
You had only made the mistake of asking Ellie what you were to her one time in your friendship.
You couldn’t really help yourself either. She just looked so fucking pretty that night, praising you so well, saying all the right things. Could anyone really blame you for taking it the wrong way? Assuming that she was trying to send signals to you in the same way that you’d tried to send to her?
“Fuck…that’s it…always so fucking good for me, my good fucking girl” she panted out above you as she drilled her sopping wet pussy down onto yours, your head absolutely spinning with the feeling she gave you, the way your heart overflowed with the delicious feeling of euphoria.
You struggled to keep your eyes open, eyebrows furrowed as your fingers dug into the skin of Ellie’s thighs, your own legs trembling as you felt your orgasm growing closer and closer.
Ellie was quick to grab your cheeks, squishing them together and forcing you to form a pout as she tugged your face to look at her.
“No no no…look at me baby, keep your fucking eyes on me when you cum…that’s it…that’s a good girl” she groaned out through gritted teeth, always loving watching you struggle as you came undone at her doings.
“I’m…fuck Ellie…I’m…c-close” you stuttered out, back arching as your lips parted, glossy eyes staring up at the girl almost in awe as she drove you towards your third orgasm of the night, struggling to hang onto the very thin rope that was keeping you connected to this world.
She smirked down at you, giving you an encouraging nod as her tattooed hands gripped your thighs tightly, sure to leave marks in the morning.
“That’s my fuckin girl…come on baby…fuck…I’m…fuck!” She shouted out, her own back arching as her hips sputtered, her pussy gushing onto yours as she came hard with a strangled moan. The sound of her cumming alone was enough to make your own eyes flutter shut, hands flying down to your mattress as you gripped the sheets tightly, your knuckles aching as you screamed out Ellie’s name over and over again, tears threatening to spill out your eyes with the intensity of your orgasm.
“M-mm….fuck” you stuttered out, struggling to catch your breath as your naked chest rose and fell, trying to find a steady pace for yourself. Ellie gave a lazy chuckle as she stared down at you, her hand coming up to give your cheeks a quick squeeze.
“Did good for me princess..” she praised you, your heart swelling at her words.
Ellie’s words never failed to make your head spin.
She was quick to roll off of you, her back hitting your bed with a thud as she laid next to you, staring up at your ceiling as she tried to recollect herself.
And that’s what it usually was with you and Ellie. She’d come to your house, you guys would either play video games or watch a movie, she would get handsy and things would always end with her tugging you to your bedroom, either between your legs or on top of you. You loved every second of it, being with Ellie, feeling Ellie, it was all perfect all the time but…
You couldn’t help but want more.
Your heart felt empty every time she left, every time she jumped up from your bed, claiming that she either had to wake up early for work in the morning, or she had someone waiting for her in the city, leaving you alone in your apartment with nothing more than a quick squeeze on your hip, and the slamming of your door as she left. And maybe it was the fact that she didn’t immediately leave your bed that night that even prompted you to ask in the first place, a silent sign from the universe that this was your chance to understand where you stood with her.
“Ellie…” you called out her name softly, still staring at your ceiling before you turned on your side to look at her. She responded with a gentle hum, her arm bent and propped against the back of her head. Your heart is beating so fast now, staring at her pretty features, her profile was almost from that of a painting, or a sculpture. It made you wanna reach out and gently trace them, burning the feeling of her face into your memory.
You don’t realize you’re staring until she looks over at you, eyebrows furrowing for a minute before she gives a chuckle. “What? Do I have something on my face?” She questions, and you know she’s teasing you. You roll your eyes before giving her a soft, playful nudge.
A moment passes, and you’re simply staring at her, trying to find the words to say to her, how to properly ask her what you’ve been dying to ask her.
Her features soften, a soft pout on her lips as she turns to you more, her body facing yours entirely. “Hey…everything okay?” She asks gently, and her tone alone is making you want to pass out then and there, the care in her voice almost making you whine.
You take a deep inhale, before your mouth opens and you finally say it.
“What…what are we?” You mumble out, blinking a few times as you stare up at the girl, waiting for her to respond.
But it starts to feel like you’re waiting forever, because Ellie’s jaw goes slack as she stares at you with wide eyes, clearly shocked that you’d even think to ask her something like that. It puts your stomach in knots, and it makes you regret even asking in the first place, but before you can even retract fully, telling her some lame excuse about it being just a joke, or a dumb prank, she’s opening her mouth to respond.
“I…we’re friends…you know that, don’t you?” She asks carefully, eyeing you as if this should all be common knowledge to you, as if you’d always been on the same page to begin with.
You blink a few times at her, unable to respond to her or even agree with what she’s saying. You feel choked up, throat closing up as the inevitable tears threaten to spill past your cheeks, the girl of your dreams confirming that you two are in fact not on the same page.
“Don’t you?” She repeats, her voice growing worried as she stares down at you with her eyebrows furrowed, scared that she’s seeing things when she notices the way your eyes gloss over.
And it prompts you to quickly clear your throat, practically sucking the tears back into your body as you give her a quick nod, all while scooting away from her a bit. Because suddenly, it feels like Ellie is entirely too close to you in your bed.
“Yeah…yeah I do” you try to chirp out, putting on your best attempt at trying to sound like you weren’t completely dying inside.
Of course she can see right through it, the girl staring down at you wearily as she tries to read you. You almost hope she’ll speak up about it, comfort you and tell you that whatever you had going on was okay, and it was normal to not have a label on things.
But she doesn’t.
She gives you a quick nod before she awkwardly clears her own throat, the tension in your room thick as she reaches behind her on the ground for her t shirt, quickly pulling it on over her head before she scrambles out of your bed to search for her clothes. One by one, she silently dresses herself in her underwear, and her jeans, and soon, she looks exactly like the way she looked when she first got to your house.
You aren’t sure if Ellie’s ever been so eager to leave you before.
You inhale deeply as you sit up, tugging the blankets over your chest, suddenly scared to be bare in front of the girl, as if she wasn’t sucking on your tits mere moments ago. You can’t even find it in yourself to ask why she’s in such a hurry, the embarrassment from your first question eating you up to almost nothing as it is.
Ellie’s the one that breaks the silence first.
“Right…so…I gotta meet Jesse in town…I’ll uh…” she trails off as she trips over her own feet, walking backwards to quickly open your room door. It looks almost like she can’t leave quick enough, so you simply nod and give her a wave, with a half smile.
“Yeah…bye Ellie” your tone is dismissive, way too dismissive and you know that. But at this point, you want Ellie out of your apartment just as much as it seems like she wants to leave. It’s too awkward, to much of a grey area has covered the both of you that you desperately want to escape now, even if you were the one that brought it onto yourself.
She’s taken aback by the way you rush her out, regardless of the fact that she’s being just as dodgy as you are, if not more. She tries her best to ignore the way her heart aches at the way you’re dismissing her, avoiding the way it makes her feel like you’re kicking her out. Instead, she swallows thickly and gives a quick nod before she stutters over her own words, a sorry attempt at a goodbye, and leaves.
When she does leave, you’re left with a heavy feeling settled onto you. It makes you feel like you’ve done something wrong, like you’ve ruined something by talking too much or opening your mouth. Things were fine between you and Ellie, a bit confusing, but if it wasn’t broken, why try to fix it?
That night, you could only lay in your bed that smelled too heavily of Ellie, and think of all the ways you could try to force not only her, but yourself to forget about the events that just took place, desperate to get back to the way things were.
Waking up with a sore throat and a runny nose a few weeks after the incident with Ellie seemed to be just your luck.
Perhaps all of the stress and overthinking that you endured during the time weakened your immune system, the lack of sleep that you were getting not helping much either. You couldn’t really help it, not entirely at least. You should have seen it coming though, all the signs were right there in front of you.
Things had been fine with you and Ellie after everything happened that night, everything going back to normal almost too easily. You were both very much on the same page of pretending as though none of it happened, and Ellie only confirmed that when she texted you the morning after asking if you were going to attend some plans that your friend group had included you in a few days prior.
While the relief you felt alleviated a lot of the stress the situation brought on, you couldn’t avoid the nagging feeling that came with the unknown. Your overthinking was in overdrive of course, constantly wondering what Ellie was thinking, what she was going to do with your friendship, it was all too overwhelming.
Things that night with Ellie were fine, great even. You two were sat together in the booth of the lounge that you had all met up in, her hands dancing along your thighs, toying with the hem of your dress as you laughed at something Dina said. To your surprise, she even leaned into you towards the end of the night, whispering in your ear, asking if you wanted to get out of there, which was a telltale sign that Ellie wanted to get you alone.
You should’ve known you were coming down with something when you gave her a shy smile and politely declined, making up some excuse about being tired. Tired was an understatement, you were exhausted, and the worst part was, you couldn’t put your finger on what the hell was going on with you. Ellie could sense it to, frowning at the way you quickly brushed her off and scooted out of the booth, making you the first one to go home that night.
You thought it was just a lack of sleep, your body begging you to just relax and take care of yourself for once. Making a big cup of tea and giving yourself a warm bath would do just the trick, surly. You felt hopeful when tucking yourself into bed and drifting off to sleep almost instantly.
However, the next morning was brutal. Your throat felt like you’d been swallowing nails, your nose stuffy, head filled with so much pressure it felt as though it would pop at any time. Instantly, you knew you were sick, and as inconvenient as it was, you were due for it. You hadn’t gotten sick in who knows how long, so it almost felt like your body was forcing you to focus on yourself rather than Ellie for once.
You always wondered how people function properly when they were sick, getting things done, being productive, because you were the complete opposite. Being sick meant shutting down for approximately seven to nine business days until all of your symptoms were at least a tiny bit alleviated. You wouldn’t talk to anyone, or even tell anyone that you were sick, all you wanted was to sulk in bed and feel sorry for yourself until you got even remotely better.
You didn’t even text Ellie.
And your absence is what sends her into somewhat of a frenzy of anxiety. She’s so used to hearing from you almost every day, if not through text messages or calls, then through other apps where you two can send stupid memes and videos to each other. The first few days she rights off as you simply being busy, even if the entire situation at your house has her on edge and she’s thinking the absolute worst. But a day or two turns into a week, and it’s the longest Ellie has ever gone without hearing from you.
So now shes worried.
Because what happened to you? Are you angry with her? Have you finally realized that Ellie isn’t enough for you? That this awkward little game that you and her are playing is far too good for you? Because it is. Ellie knows deep in her bones that it is, she knows that she’s playing a dangerous game with you, dangling someone as fantastic as you by a thread, keeping you both separated by the whole friends with benefits facade that she knows is a load of bullshit.
And why does she do it? The same reason why anyone does, of course.
Ellie is a coward.
She’s the biggest coward there ever was, terrified of commitment, scared that the second she makes you here’s entirely things will change, and she’ll be forced to lose the single best thing that’s ever happened to her.
That, and the fact that you and Ellie have been friends since you were kids.
You both happened to be the new kids at the school in town, and it’s what brought you two together. You found friends in one another, and you decided to tackle the cruel adolescent world of middle school together rather than on your own.
The friends with benefits thing didn’t start until college, when one drunk night together lead to you straddling Ellie in some gross frat bedroom, grinding down on her as you pushed your tongue down her throat. At that point, Ellie had experienced many different nights with many different girls, earning a bit of a reputation at your university as a player, which you were very aware of. But regardless of all the girls she’d fallen into bed with, no one ever made her feel the way you did, never even came close.
And Ellie knew she couldn’t let go of that.
It became her own personal addiction, the silent agreement of fucking her best friend becoming a very frequent occurrence. Sleepovers would turn into nights filled with kisses and bliss, study sessions would almost always end with Ellie hovering over you with her hand shoved between your legs, playing with your pussy as much as she wanted until you became a moaning mess for her.
You two never truly discussed what you were, not until that night at least.
Ellie always thanked her lucky stars over the fact that you simply went along with it, allowing her to play with your body whenever she wanted, and you with hers. It was like a blessing, her beautiful best friend that she’d been obsessed with since the first day of sixth grade, now letting her see her in a way that she knew many didn’t see you in.
She should’ve known it was too good to be true.
Because that look in your eyes that night made Ellie’s heart race, and while she’d dreamt of you asking her that more times than she could count, it suddenly became her biggest nightmare. She couldn’t leave your room fast enough, the look of want, need, love in your eyes, practically begging her to make you more than just her friend she occasionally fucked.
As much as she didn’t want them to, she knew things would change after that.
She saw it in the way you acted that night at the lounge, denying her of alone time with you, quickly scurrying out of the booth as if you couldn’t get further away from her. And now your absence was only further confirming Ellie’s worst nightmare. You were done with her, years of friendship flushed down the fucking toilet because she was too much of a fucking coward to…
To….
To tell you how in love with you she was.
For once, why couldn’t she suck up her pride and just admit that she was in love? Did love make her weak? Did it mean she had to leave behind a life she didn’t even enjoy that much? The girls were great, a fun way to pass the time, but none of them held a candle to you, and she knew that. She even tried hooking up with someone the night she left your apartment, and it made her feel fucking sick.
And now you were leaving, and she had no one to blame but herself.
In true Ellie fashion though, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
As much as she knew she didn’t deserve one, she wanted an explanation. You both had been friends for too fucking long for her to be thrown away like this, even if it was her fault.
So? A little over a week since that night at the lounge, Ellie is marching her way up to your apartment, and landing a hard knock on your familiar front door.
The noise makes you jolt out of your sleep, the sound of the harsh knocking echoing throughout your small apartment. It makes you whine, because after yet another miserable night with no sleep, you were finally able to knock yourself out with some cold medicine you had delivered to your house. The sleep was heavy and uncomfortable but it was the only way you were able to get even a little bit of shut eye. You hoped and prayed that whoever it was would get the memo that you wouldn’t come to the door, however another string of knocks made you groan loudly, your sore throat rattling as you did so.
Your bones ached as you tossed your blanket back and swung your legs over the bed. The cold wooden floor was unwelcoming to your feet, making you shiver as you pushed yourself off of the bed with weak arms, slowly trudging towards your door.
When you finally get to it, you try your best to clear your throat, knowing that it’s all in vain. Nothing was strong enough to bring back your voice from the raspy sound that it was now, all the coughing and sneezing making it so that you could barely get one syllable out let alone a full sentence.
“Yes?” You rasp out as you opened the door, pouting in annoyance as you rub your sleep filled eyes, arms wrapping around your body to stop the inevitable shiver that ran down your spine every second.
Ellie feels her heart break when she sees you. Your hair is messy, dark bags settled under your eyes, nose red, and skin lacking the usual radiance you always emitted. You didn’t even wear your usual cute matching pajama set, instead wearing a big t shirt that nearly swallowed you whole, and a pair of baggy sweatpants that were extremely faded.
You were sick.
And all the mean things she had planned to say to you suddenly disappear, now replaced with the urge to take care of you, and beg to understand why you didn’t call her when you started feeling this way.
“Baby…” she almost whines out, heart aching at the sight of you. You didn’t even realize who it was at first, your fever ridden brain having a hard time adjusting to the figure at the door. Her voice gives it away first.
“Ellie?” You croak out, and the sound is nearly enough to bring Ellie to tears.
Without another word, she’s gently pushing past you to get into your apartment, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes never lead your figure as she studies your face.
“Ellie…you shouldn’t be here, I’m really not-“ you try, because the last thing you want is to get Ellie sick, subjecting her to the hell that you’ve had to live through for the past week.
She quickly cuts you off, shaking her head as she grabs a hold of your wrist, tugging you to your room.
“When did you start feeling this way?” Her tone is stern, but soft, and it makes your heart melt.
A nasty cough rattles your chest, and you groan at the pain you feel in your tired lungs. You let her pull the sheets back and help you into bed, instantly sighing as the warmth wraps you up, making you feel a bit better.
You clear your throat before you respond. “The morning after the lounge…didn’t wanna bother anyone” you confess, now letting the girl tuck you into bed.
There’s a permanent frown on her face as she bring her palm to your head, which only deepens when she feels how warm you are. “You’re burning up…” she mumbles under her breath.
She looks around your room, only to see that your beside table is littered with tiny signs that you’d been trying to take care of yourself. There were cough drops, different bottles of medicine, a box of tissues and a small compress. She sighs as she grabs one of the bottles, reading the back before she speaks to you again.
“When’s the last time you took this?” She questions, another ugly cough rattling through your poor lungs, making you whine as you push your face into your pillow, feeling utterly fed up with the current condition of your body.
“Dunno…just been trying to sleep it off instead” your words make Ellie frown deeply, knowing how stubborn you’d always been with medicine, often times far too deep in felt pity to even bring yourself to take it.
“Well you’re going to take some now..come on, sit up” she urges you gently, her tattooed hand gently grabbing your arm and pulling you sit up. She shook out the correct dosage of medicine for you before she handed it to you with a bottle of water, her green eyes filled with worry and concern as she eyed you as you took it.
She felt her heart ache at the mere sight of you, a permanent pout on your lips, eyes drained of the familiar brightness she’d come to love oh so much. She could see how much it visibly pained you to even drink the water, your hand coming up to cup your throat as if to soothe the pain from the outside in.
“Hurts?” She questioned gently, her hand coming behind you to rub your back gently. You give her a slow nod, eyes closing as you lean into her and her touch, the feeling of her warm hands making the chill in your bones melt almost immediately.
She gives you a nod before she helps you lay back down. “Stay here…I know what’ll help, okay baby?” She reassures you. You’re too weak to even respond, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you settle down against your pillow, the medicine already doing its work to give you a break from the intense cough your body had grown used to within the last few days.
Ellie is on her feet once she’s sure you’ve settled, walking out of your bedroom and into your kitchen where she grabs your little tea kettle, filling it up with water and putting the water to boil. She grabs your favorite mug while the water heats up, as well as some peppermint tea and some honey.
She finds herself deep in thought while she waits for the water to boil, a soft frown playing on her lips as her knuckle raps against your counter.
Ellie absolutely hates herself for not being more proactive with you. She should’ve known you were getting sick from the moment you weren’t responding to her text messages earlier in the week, it was a typical sign on your end that you weren’t feeling like yourself, something that you’d often do to not burden anyone with what you were feeling. But you were all alone, and it was Ellie’s job as your friend to take care of you when you needed her.
She sighs to herself as she finishes making up your tea, tapping the spoon on the edge of your mug before she brought it to her mouth, humming at the taste before she nodded to herself and brought it to your room.
The medicine must have knocked you out immediately, because your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in the slightest as soft snore escapes from your body. It makes Ellie groan to herself as she gently sits on your bed, hating the fact that she had to disturb your sleep.
“Baby?…come on pretty girl…wake up and drink a bit of this, then you can go back to bed” her soft voice reaches you in the depths of your fever ridden brain, and it makes you blink your eyes open to see if it’s another dream, or if she’s actually there.
Hazy eyes blink back at Ellie, a soft whine leaving your lips as you bring your hand up to rub your eyes, the nasty cough rattling through your chest as you promptly sit up for her, reaching out and taking the mug.
“You shouldn’t be here Ellie….what if I get you sick?” You croak out before bringing the mug to your lips, taking a sip of the warm drink, allowing it to soothe your aching throat.
Ellie watches you intently before she rolls her eyes playfully. “Jokes on you, getting sick would just mean you have to take care of me” she gives you a wink, and you groan softly, nudging her with your blanket clad foot before you take another sip and set the mug on your bedside table.
“Feels like my fever broke…I should be able to take care of myself now, El” you try, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you settle back against your pillow, tugging your blankets up to your chin.
Ellie watches you closely, you were clearly in need of sleep, exhaustion taking over your weak body the second your head hit the pillow. She simply hummed at your response before she pushed herself off the bed. You assumed this was here obeying, silently leaving because she assumed you were already fast asleep, however the girl was kicking off her shoes instead, leaving her only in her sweatpants and her t-shirt before she promptly crawled in next to you in your bed.
You whine softly, but still let her tug you closer. Her strong hands are like ice on your warm thigh, tugging it over her leg and pressing your body against hers. She’s so warm, and you can’t help but push your cold hands under her shirt, pressing against her warm stomach. She chuckles softly as it makes her shiver, keeping you close regardless.
“Might as well stay since I’m here now, yeah?” She hums out softly, earning only a weak hum from you in response.
Ellie isn’t sure if she’s ever seen anyone fall asleep so quickly, soft snores leaving your lips again as she holds you close, rubbing small shapes into your back as she simply lays there, holding you in your bed.
It makes her heart ache when she realizes this is the first time she’s back here with you since you asked her what you were to her that one night. It makes her wonder how much things would’ve changed up until now if she’d told you the truth, told you just how much she wanted you to be hers and only hers, dropping the stupid act of being single and being free for you would’ve been much smarter than what she did instead.
Seeing you sick, in bed and all alone made Ellie feel like she’d failed you, not only as someone who was madly in love with you, but as your friend. What kind of friend ignored the signs, forcing you to take care of yourself when you felt so poorly.
Watching you lay there, sleeping soundly as you so deserved in her arms made Ellie’s heart burst with a feeling she knew she’d had for you for such a long time, since she’d met you really. Taking care of you felt even better.
So that’s exactly what she was gonna do.
Ellie doesn’t leave your side the entire time she’s there with you.
Which is about three days. You were already coming to the end of your cold when she had found you, and while it felt worse than when you first got sick, the end was near.
Your heart would flutter every time Ellie would wake you up for your medicine, or gently tug you out of bed for a warm bath, she’d even managed to run down to your favorite cafe for a bowl of soup in record breaking time to make sure you were getting something good to eat. She did everything in her power to nurse you back to health, never once agreeing with your many pleas to leave you there alone before you got her sick.
When you finally stopped asking her to leave you, you were left with the plaguing thoughts that you tried getting rid of, the ones filled with Ellie denying your question, denying you of the answer you wanted so badly when you asked her what you were to her. It made no sense to you, someone that used your body at their disposal, caring so much for your health and your wellbeing, you truly couldn’t outweigh the reasons as to why Ellie was suddenly here, when she wasn’t before.
It didn’t take long for your fever to break completely, and for the cough to subside to something that happened only once in a while rather than every minute or so. It was finally starting to look up for you.
Which meant Ellie had to leave soon.
You were sat up in your bed while Ellie was in your kitchen, washing up some of the dishes from when you and her had eaten together, a permanent frown on your lips as you toyed with the blanket draped over your legs.
Ellie returned, a soft smile on her face as she watched the way you were sat up, looking far more alert than a few days prior.
“You’re looking so much better, baby…that’s good to see” she hummed out as she moved to crawl into bed with you, taking her usual spot. She leaned in, wanting to press a kiss to your neck, she lets out a soft huff when you try to pull away.
“Hm? What’s the matter? I already told you I don’t care if I get sick…” you can hear the smirk in her voice as she leans in again, this time aiming for the corner of your lips.
You just couldn’t take it anymore.
You pressed your hand to her chest, finally looking into her eyes. She can tell by the look on your face that this is much more than you fussing over her getting sick.
“I can’t…what is this Ellie? I appreciate you taking care of me and helping me get better but…” your words trail off, a soft pout on your lips as you struggle with the words you want to say before you let out a gentle sigh, eyes dropping from Ellie’s, looking down at your lap instead.
“This feels too intimate…the kissing…the way touch me…” you explain, your voice falling to nothing but a small, hoarse sound.
“I want to respect what you said about us…but you’re making it really hard when you treat me like I’m your girlfriend” you sigh out, hating that you even had to explain any of this to Ellie in the first place.
She’s frowning at this point, eyebrows furrowed as she eyes you carefully. It feels like you’re practically twisting the knife that had been lodged into her heart from the moment you asked her what you were to her. She ignorantly wished you two could just ignore it all, let it blow over while she pretended she could have you in the way she wanted, all while hurting you at the same time.
“I think we just…shouldn’t do these things anymore…the kissing, the fucking….” Your words are shaky, and Ellie can hear that you’re at the brink of tears without even seeing your face.
And she knows this is it, she’s lost her chance.
You finally look up at her, your eyes red and filled with tears threatening to spill out onto your soft cheeks.
“I’m sorry…I appreciate you coming here and helping me but I can’t-“ your words are cut off by Ellie’s lips on yours. Both of her hands are cupping your face as she gives you a kiss so filled with passion, it’s nearly enough to make you whine. But as good as her lips feel, you’re quick to push her off.
“Ellie no! I told you, you’ll get sick” you complain, your hands wrapped around both of her wrists as you pull them away from your face.
A moment passes as she simply stares into your eyes, a pleading looking written on her face as if she’s silently begging you to hear her, to understand what she wants to convey all without saying a single word in the process.
But you don’t.
“I’m not like you, Ellie…I get attached, and I want more with you…more than you want with me and it just won’t-“ it’s the second time she’s cutting you off for the night, this time she speaks.
“And I love that!” she blurts out finally, her voice cracking with the amount of emotions that filled her up, from simply staring into your eyes.
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you eye the girl closely, shaking your head as you try to understand. “But you said….” Your words trail off, because even recalling the words she’d said to you that night hurts.
Ellie sighs softly before she shakes her head. “I know what I said…and I’m an idiot for it” she groans out, knowing deep down this would always have been the outcome of her actions, whether she wanted it or not.
She reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before her hand dropped down to cup your cheek gently.
“I’ve wanted you…since the moment I laid eyes on you” she breaths out. You can practically hear the relief it brings her, just from admitting it to you. Ellie feels as though the weight of the world is lifted off of her shoulders when the words fall from the tip of her tongue.
You simply stare at her, eyes wide and eager to hear more, practically begging her to go on.
Her pink tongue darts from her behind her lips, thumb stroking your cheek gently before she continued to speak. “I felt like when we started doing this…it would be my ticket to finally telling you how much I love you…clearly I’m too much of a coward for that” she chuckles out, only half joking as the bitter words fall into the air of your room.
The moment of silence that falls between the two of you feels like an eternity, it feels too long since you’ve said something and it makes Ellie feel sick. She didn’t know what she was hoping for when she told you, it whatever was happening was far from it.
And so, she begins to panic.
“I’m sorry I ever said those things to you. I just didn’t know what to say when you asked and I panicked and it just-“ it’s your turn to cut her off, leaning in and pressing your lips to hers to shut her up. It makes Ellie melt as soon as you do, a soft whine leaving her lips as one of her hands falls down to your waist, wanting you as close as possible.
Your lips work against hers for a moment before you finally pull apart, a soft smile on your lips as you stare into her eyes.
“So you love me, hm?” You tease her, and it makes Ellie whine as she falls back to lay against your pillow, tugging you down with her by your waist as she pulls you to straddle her lower body.
“That’s all you gathered? Here I am confessing my undying love and apologizing at the same time and all you get is one thing” she smirks as she stares up at you, her hands caressing your bare thighs.
“You’re lucky I’m used to your idiotic tendencies…I don’t think anyone would deal with this behavior” you hear her again with a fake pout, which earns a fake groan from her end before she gives your thighs a firm squeeze.
“Good thing it’s you then, hm?” She mumbles out softly, making you giggle before you bend down to attach your lips to hers, wanting nothing more than to enjoy the girl now that feelings had been confessed.
After a moment of your lips against hers, you hear Ellie groan, which makes you frown as you pull away. “Everything okay baby?” You ask softly, only to see that Ellie is pouting childish up at you.
summary: modern au; ellie moves to a big city to escape the past. she goes to her first lesbian bar, where she meets you.
cw: porn with…a whisper of plot; alcohol use, fingering (e!receiving), strap-on sex, bottom!ellie, slightly sub!ellie, she’s whiny here
Ellie’s never been to a lesbian bar.
It’s surreal - banners of colorful pride flags are strung across the room, some of which she can’t even identify. Distressed and faded posters are plastered on the stone walls, advertising drag shows and queer punk bands with names like The Cranky Dykes and T-Girl Social. Nearly every patron is tatted or pierced, and there’s more platform boots and fishnet clothing than Ellie’s ever seen in one place before. Before she’d moved to the city, Ellie had lit up with excitement at the thought of visiting a lesbian bar. But now, in her worn Harley Davidson tee and a pair of jeans with unintentional rips at the knees, she feels very much out of her depth.
Steeling her nerves, she internally reminds herself that this is exactly why she’d moved in the first place - she needed new experiences. She needed unfamiliarity. What she’d left back in Texas was her normal, and she planned to build a new normal here. One that was the antithesis of everything she’d known before.
The bar isn’t completely packed, but she does need to push past dancing, sweaty bodies, girls sucking on each other’s faces, and chatting cliques to get to the edge of the bar, where more clusters of people are calling out drink orders and thrusting wads of cash tips at the bartenders. By some miracle, an empty barstool presents itself after a drunken patron with a mohawk stumbles out of it, and Ellie swoops in to snatch it before someone else does. She sits there for a good few minutes, trying to capture a bartender’s attention, until someone shuffles up beside her and sticks a hand out to wave one over. And, of course, they notice immediately, heading over with a towel slung over their shoulder. Ellie sinks lower into her seat, cheeks burning.
“I’ll have a spicy marg,” the woman beside Ellie says, voice projecting loud enough to hear over the clamor of music and chatter. The bartender nods, then goes to step away, but the woman next to Ellie stops her, speaking with that attention-commanding voice.
“What are you having?”
The bartender’s gaze shifts to Ellie, still hunched over and beet-red in the face. She flushes impossibly redder when she looks up at the woman who’d just ordered, realizing that the question had been directed at her.
“Oh,” she blurts, posture straightening. She glances at the woman, anxiety flaring, then back at the bartender. “Um, an old fashioned. Please. Thanks.”
Just as quickly as they’d come, the bartender disappears again, off to pour precisely-measured shots and mix cocktails in shiny silver shakers. Ellie’s hands are in her lap, fiddling restlessly, when she finally forces herself to look up at the woman who’d practically had to order for her.
You smile at her when she meets your gaze. Though she’s trying to be subtle about it, you can feel the way Ellie drinks in your every feature, eyes flickering over your face, then your body. It’s obvious that she likes what she sees, because she has a hard time looking you in the eye again.
“Thanks,” she says. “I’ve been trying to order for a while.”
“So I saw,” you respond, but not unkindly. You take a moment to look her over, although you’d already done plenty of that before you’d even approached her - you had seen her from across the bar, looking forlorn, her leg bouncing beneath the edge of the bar as she tried (and failed) to order herself a drink. Her lack of confidence is what piqued your interest; it was hard to believe that someone that gorgeous wasn’t oozing arrogance and self-importance. She’s all lean muscles and shaggy hair, her forearm decorated with a sprawling fern tattoo. You could already imagine yourself running your hands through that hair, kissing the length of her sharp jawline, pulling those narrow hips up against your own.
At a lesbian bar, a hot girl who couldn’t carry herself with confidence usually meant one of two things: she’s fresh out of a breakup, or she’d never been somewhere like this. You’re determined to find out which of the two applies to her.
“What’s your name? I haven’t seen you here before.” You angle your body to face Ellie, popping your hip out as subtly as you can.
Ellie, determined to keep her eyes on your face and not the curve of your hip or the delicious sliver of cleavage peeking out of your square-neck top, peers up at you from behind her bangs. “Uh, yeah, I’ve never been. I just moved here. I’m Ellie - what’s your name?”
You tell her your name and she repeats it slowly, like she’s tasting every syllable. “Pretty.”
Your drinks arrive before you can fumble for a response.
“Spicy marg, old fashioned,” the bartender lists as they slide your drinks over the smooth wood of the bar. Ellie murmurs her thanks and you nod at the bartender before they disappear, your hand curling around the glass.
“Cheers?” You tip your drink towards Ellie. She clinks her own glass against yours and the two of you take your first sips, the bitterness of the alcohol burning its way down your throat. You feel it settle in your stomach, warm and satisfying.
“So,” you begin, licking jalapeño and lime-tinged tequila from your lips. Ellie’s eyes follow the movement for a moment before she catches herself and looks away. “Where’d you move from?”
Ellie smiles shyly. You watch her index finger trace the rim of her glass. “Texas.”
“Oh?” One of your brows lifts. “And what made you want to move here, Texas?”
“For one, I’m gay.”
“Thank you for stating the obvious.”
She lets out a little laugh, and the sound makes you want to grin - you take a sip of your margarita instead.
“I just… Couldn’t be there anymore,” she elaborates. “It wasn’t right for me. I needed to start fresh.”
You don’t say anything for a moment, letting Ellie’s words sink in. Clearly, something severe enough had happened to make her want to shed her life in Texas like an old skin. And this lesbian bar, filled with every unique kind of queer this city had to offer, was part of this new version of Ellie - the version she’d chosen to build from the ground up. You’re struck by how brave Ellie must be for that. And yeah, maybe she’d struggled to order a drink for herself, but that didn’t take away from her bravery - not when she’d willfully chosen to uproot her life, a decision most people could never follow through with.
“I’m impressed,” you say honestly. “And I hope the city gives you what you’re looking for.”
The corners of Ellie’s lips twitch, and that pretty blush fights its way onto her cheeks again. You’re about to say something when you hear the first notes of one of your favorite songs thumping through the speakers, a few other bargoers cheering to express their own excitement.
“Dance with me,” you say to Ellie, reaching forward with your free hand to grab her forearm. She looks up at you like a deer in headlights.
“I can’t dance.”
“Doesn’t matter, just follow my lead. C’mon.”
“I don’t know if—”
“Didn’t you come here to try new things?” You curl your fingers around Ellie’s wrist, and she lets you pull her to her feet. You’ve made a good point, and she doesn’t argue again - just follows you to the dancefloor, where dozens of others are already moving to the beat of the music, hips rolling, heads nodding. The lights pulsate in the vibrant colors of the rainbow, the crowd painted shades of sunset orange, hot pink, deep indigo. You sip your drink and start to dance, turning to face Ellie; she’s gaping at you, unmoving.
“Come here,” you say, having to shout over the music. Ellie steps closer to you as you move to the rhythm, hips swishing. You’re wearing a pair of flared pants that makes your ass look incredible, and after Ellie finally starts to dance along with you, you turn around to bring your backside closer to her. As if by instinct, Ellie’s arm loops around your waist - she presses her palm into the front of your pelvis, rolls her hips against your ass. You grin, wide and self-satisfied, as you lift your drink to your lips again - only to realize it’s almost gone. You make a mental note to head back to the bar after this song, but for now, you enjoy the last few drops of your margarita, revelling in the feeling of Ellie’s hand, strong on your hip, as she presses ever-closer into you from behind.
Ellie’s in awe of you.
The way you’d strolled up beside her at the bar, posture proud, buying Ellie a drink and flirting with her like it was easy, natural. The way you’d let your eyes wander over her figure, not shy at all about the lust in your gaze. The way you’d dragged her to the dancefloor and ground your ass back against her, smelling like lime and tequila and something headier, something distinctly you.
Now, after two strong drinks and several songs-worth of dancing with you, Ellie’s so turned on she feels like a live wire, sparks erupting from her every nerve.
On the dancefloor, Ellie had looped her arm around your hips, leaning in so close she could smell the liquor on your breath. You’d needed to fight down every urge to kiss her first - you weren’t even sure if she’d ever kissed another woman before, and you’d already done enough to pull her out of her shell for the night. But Ellie had leaned her forehead against yours, noses brushing, eyes fluttering shut… And your mouths had crashed together in the sort of kiss you’re going to have a very hard time forgetting.
After making out in the crowd like that for god knows how long, you’d invited Ellie back to your apartment. Which brings you to your current predicament: Ellie’s backed up against the front door, your hand under her shirt, fingers dancing over every inch of her deliciously solid abdomen. If Ellie’s inexperienced, she’s doing a fabulous job of pretending she isn’t. But you’re not sure just how innocent she is now, as she moans unabashedly into your mouth, your hand squeezing her tits over her sports bra.
“Hey,” you breathe, pulling back from the heated kiss you’d been sharing.
“Mm?” Ellie blinks at you, dazed. You want to ruin her.
“Is this okay?” You peck at her lips, then her cheek. “We don’t have to… Do anything. Not if you don’t want to.”
Ellie’s bangs are gorgeously tousled, and she looks at you like a kicked puppy - all round eyes and furrowed brows, worried you’re taking something from her. “But I… I want to.”
“You sure?”
Ellie nods.
“Have you ever been with another woman before?” Your stomach twists at the directness of your own question, but you really want to know. Need to know. A bar hookup might not be the best way for her to pop her cherry - or, at least, her gay cherry.
Then again, it’s not exactly unheard of in the community.
“Yeah. I have,” Ellie says, her hand reaching out to grab your hip.
You find yourself wanting to pry, dig deeper for more information, but there’s no real reason for it. She’s not entirely new to this. She wants you. That’s all that really matters, right?
So you take her to your bedroom, let her undress you with shaky, calloused hands, kiss her slow and sweet while she unbuttons her jeans and kicks them aside. You help each other undress until you’re both naked, and then you’re stumbling into bed, your legs straddling Ellie’s hips as you kiss down her neck, stopping to suck pretty purple bruises into the sensitive skin. Ellie makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper, sending another white-hot jolt of arousal through you. Your cunt is spread over her pelvis, and you grind down against her like that, letting out a pleased sound of your own.
“God, you’re so hot,” Ellie mutters, watching you roll your hips as you kiss down to her chest. She reaches for your tits, squeezes them in her palms.
“Yeah?” You smile, sharp and wolfish, down at Ellie. She looks at you like she can’t believe this is happening - like she can’t believe you’re real. “Gonna let me fuck you, Ellie?”
She moans at the obscenity of the question, nodding quickly. “Yes, god, please fuck me.”
“Mm,” you hum, “need to get you ready first, baby.”
Ellie’s breathing is ragged, her hips lifting, seeking friction. You climb down her body until you’re settled between her legs, pulling her knees apart to give yourself access to her center. She’s fucking soaked - you bite your lip at the sight of her, clit swollen and puffy, labia shining with arousal.
You start with one finger, dipping into the wetness pooled at her entrance and spreading it up to her clit, drawing sharp breaths and staggering moans from Ellie’s kiss-bitten lips. Every sound she makes has you yearning to hear more, more. You slide your middle finger into her clenching hole and groan when you feel her walls open up smoothly around the digit. She pulses around you, hot and slick. When you begin pumping your finger in and out of that tight heat, Ellie’s noises become even more drawn-out, even more frantic - you look up at her and find her eyes already on you, dark with lust, a desperate, pleading expression etched onto her face.
“You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” you coo at her, revelling in the way her pussy tightens at your words.
“I–nngh, fuck–I need…” She trails off, jaw clenching.
You fake-pout at her, puff out your lower lip in faux sympathy. “What is it? What do you need?”
“Need more,” Ellie pants out.
“I can give you more, sweetheart,” you reassure her, “all you had to do was ask.”
So, you give her more. You slip another finger inside of her, press the heel of your hand against the sensitive nub of her clit; your fingers curl upwards in the warmth of her cunt, finding that spongy, sensitive spot that’ll make her see stars. She whines - actually fucking whines, high-pitched and desperate, as if to say yes, right there.
“Shit, oh my god…” Ellie’s hands are clutching the sheets, knuckles blanched. “‘M so close.”
You don’t let up, and it only takes a few more moments of your careful ministrations before Ellie’s falling apart, a mess of jolting hips, strangled gasps, and a rush of wetness. You watch her come undone, wishing you could committ the sight to memory. After, you lick your fingers clean.
While Ellie’s spent and recovering from the height of her orgasm, you shuffle to the side of the bed to reach for your nightstand. You roll open the drawer, rummage around, and return to Ellie’s side with a tiny bottle of lube and your strap, the harness made of powder pink fabric. The brunette sighs contentedly when you lean over to kiss her, swiping her sweat-damp bangs away from her forehead.
“You taste so good, did you know that?” You press another kiss to the corner of Ellie’s lips, feeling the way they twitch into a smile.
“I really doubt it,” Ellie says.
You scoff. “Don’t doubt my taste.”
“Mm, okay. Fine. I believe you.”
Fighting your own smile, you move back to sit on your heels, cheeks heating when you notice Ellie’s eyes roaming over your naked body.
“Need something?”
Ellie nods, then sits up and pulls you in for another kiss, her hand on the back of your neck. “I want you to really fuck me now.”
“Oh yeah?” You grin at her, your hands making their way to her tits and smoothing over her pebbled nipples. “Think you should learn some manners, Ellie. How about please?”
Her expression goes soft - eyes rounding, mouth pursing.
“Please,” she says, and her voice is so sweet, it might rot your teeth. “Please fuck me.”
And who are you to deny her what she needs?
As it turns out, Ellie’s pussy was made to take strap. She’s leaned over, face down in one of your pillows, her ass propped up perfectly to give you access to her cunt. Still soaked from her last orgasm, she hardly needs any lube, the strap pushing into her all the way to the hilt without any resistance; she keens when you’re fully seated inside of her, a sound that makes your own pussy throb with need. Every noise she makes is pure heaven - you wish you could record them all, listen to them when you’re in bed at night with your hand between your thighs.
“Fuuuuck,” Ellie cries out when you hit that sweet spot with the tip of the strap, her head shifting to lean on one side, allowing you to see the look on her face - the roll of her eyes, the way her lips part to let out each of her gasps and moans.
“How’s that feel, princess?” You ask as you pound into her from behind; you admire the way her back arches deeper, like she’s encouraging you to fuck into her further and further.
“S-so good,” Ellie stutters weakly.
“Yeah? Doing so good for me, baby,” you pant. Every slam of your hips against Ellie’s ass makes her grunt, a pleased little sound, short and needy.
That tiny grunt turns into an impatient whine when you pull out of her entirely, a lewd, wet noise accompanying the motion.
“Why’d you stop?” Ellie asks, voice small. She cranes her neck to look back at you and the expression on her face is absolutely pathetic.
You give her ass a playful smack, admiring the way it recoils from the contact of your palm. “Want you to flip over. I need to see you come again, you looked so pretty the first time.”
She does as instructed - she’s already so good at following directions, you’ve learned. When Ellie’s on her back, her face, neck, and chest tinged red with equal parts arousal and exertion, you lean in and whisper praises to her, lining the strap up to her entrance and pushing into her again.
“Hold your legs up, sweetheart,” you instruct, pushing her thighs up until they’re folded against her body. She nods, panting, and lifts her hands up to hold her legs in place. You slip deeper into her like this; Ellie goes cross-eyed, lips pursed into a pretty “o” shape as you fuck her senseless. It doesn’t take much longer for her to get close again, and when her legs begin to shake with the effort of holding them up for you, you tell her to relax.
“Play with your clit, hm? I want you to come.”
Ellie nods. “Y-yeah, I can do that. For you.”
“Just for me?” You grin.
“Mm, just for you.”
Her hand shakes as she brings it between her legs, drawing sloppy circles over her clit with her fingers. You keep fucking her, hips snapping restlessly, every lewd squelch of her cunt making you gush wetter and wetter. But as desperate as you are to come, you’re more focused on Ellie - the way she bites her lip, her entire body tense with her impending orgasm. She warns you before she finally tips over the edge: an endless chant of right there, I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come, oh my god…
You’re not sure how long you lie there on top of Ellie, still buried inside her, before her breathing finally rights itself again. You spend that time kissing all over her face and running your hands through her auburn hair, untangling a few knotted locks in the process. You’re both covered in a thin layer of sweat, bodies glistening, but neither of you seems to mind. Content to lie there together, you rest until Ellie pulls you in for a kiss - one that turns needy and sloppy not long after.
“Can I taste you?” Ellie asks between kisses, her lips shiny with saliva. She says it with such hope, like she’s not sure what you’ll say. But you’re still drenched between your legs, inner thighs sticky with it.
“There’s nothing I want more right now,” you confess.
So Ellie finds a place between your legs, mouth latching to your clit like it’s muscle memory. You curl a fist into her hair and guide her every move, murmuring instructions, which she follows like the good girl she is. The night continues that way - all whispered pleas and tremoring orgasms, tangled limbs and slick-coated fingers, until the two of you finally doze off, wrapped in each other’s warmth.
And Ellie thinks she’s made a good decision, moving here. Trying something new.
thinking about ellie accidentally sending you a video of her fingering herself.
the video preview is completely dark, so you have no clue what to expect when you click the play button. you assume it’s another one of her rants - lately she’s taken to sending you clips of herself complaining about her family, work, politics. she’s sent a few videos of her trying new foods while completely obliterated on an edible, too, which you’re kind of hoping for. her eyes look so pretty all droopy and red, and she has the cutest laugh when she’s high.
but oh, no. this is… nothing like that.
you’re lounging in bed, head propped up against a pillow, when you get the notification from ellie and click to your text thread. you hit play on the video, watching with a furrowed brow as the camera moves from darkness - the forest green fabric of ellie’s duvet, you realize - to reveal her room. and it’s a familiar sight; you’ve been there a hundred times. but that’s where the familiarity ends.
because this new camera angle shows ellie naked from the waist down.
she’s flushed, her cheeks tinged the faintest shade of pink. her chest rises and falls in a quick rhythm; the light catches on a smear of wetness on her inner thigh, and you realize with a flutter in your belly that she’d been going at it for a while before she’d pulled out the camera.
“okay, fuck,” ellie pants, her voice a bit tinny through the speakers of your cell phone. she lifts one muscled thigh to her bed, which she’s standing before - right in front of the camera. your mouth goes dry as your eyes flicker over her body: heather grey tank riding up her toned hips, the faintest sheen of sweat on her chest, her thigh flexing as she spreads herself in front of the camera.
“i got close beforehand so i wouldn’t… didn’t wanna be nervous,” she says, avoiding eye contact with her phone. “but i’m - wait. why the fuck am i talking? you’re not supposed to talk in these, are you?”
blood rushes into your cheeks, warming your face until you feel like your skin is about to burn off. you should probably stop watching, shouldn’t you? you should click out of the video, pretend you never opened it in the first place. this is clearly not for you to see.
but you can’t look away.
ellie reaches her hand between her legs, and your stomach warms with arousal. there’s a flutter between your legs that leaves you squeezing your thighs together, seeking pressure.
“oh god,” ellie mutters as her fingers play in her own pussy, the lewd, wet sounds echoing. she slips a finger inside of herself, then two, her eyes fluttering shut as a string of curses leaves her lips.
she starts to pump her fingers, the heel of her hand pressed to her clit, and your breath catches in your throat when she looks up at the camera. you know she’s not really looking at you this way, but you tense up regardless. the look in her eyes is sultry, lustful, hungry.
there’s a growing damp spot on your underwear.
ellie’s getting close; her brows are pinched together in concentration, and each of her moans is more ragged and high-pitched than the last. beneath the thin fabric of her tank, you see her abs tense with her impending orgasm. you bite your lip until you’re sure you taste blood.
she comes with a shuddering cry, bicep flexing as her hand stalls between her legs. strands of auburn hair, darkened with sweat, cling to her freckled forehead. she lowers her leg from the bed and stands upright again, still panting. she reaches for the camera and the video ends.
you’re still staring wide-eyed at your phone when a series of texts come through from ellie.
oh my god
please tell me you didn’t see that
holy fuck i’m an idiot
i’m so sorry
i did not mean to send that to you. holy shit i’m sorry
your chest tightens with sympathy - you can imagine how panicked ellie is on the other line, how utterly ruined her post-orgasm bliss must be.
you type out a quick response: it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?
finding a convenient place to prop up your phone, you hook your thumbs over your underwear and tug them off, leaning forward to press record on your phone.
summary: ellie caught the attention of the head cheerleader, who’s always successful in her endeavors.
a/n: hi loviesss, im not sure if i like this so lmk how u feel :) i always love this prompt tho its so cutiepatootie. thank u to everyone that voted, i thought i'd give you the fic a little early as a treat for my irregular posting :(, one of my requests is next & then the spence fic :p
"five, six, seven, eight" you yelled, counting off your routine for yourself and your team as you ran through it. you and the team were right next to the quad, on the grass, all in something similar to sports bras, leggings, little shorts, etc;
as you danced around in tight clothing, your deep skin glistening with the sweat from the beaming sun, ellie sat at one of the picnic tables with dina and jesse, staring at you a little too hard.
"els...? ellie!" dina snapped in front of ellie's face, confused as to why she's in some sort of trance.
"m'sorry-- sorry, i was distracted" ellie mumbled giving her full attention to dina. that wasn't enough, dina furrowed her thick brows at ellie before turning to look at whatever ellie was staring at and began to laugh. jesse looked in the same direction as dina and also began laughing.
ellie huffed, reaching over the table to shove them, "shut the fuck up, she might think you're laughing at her" ellie mumbled the last part, looking away from her friends in embarrassment.
"awe, does els have a crush on the cheer captain?" dina teased, giggling at ellies flushed face, her glasses sitting on her freckled nose. "y'know she's my lab partner, right? actually.." dina said, thinking about something before turning around, yelling for you.
ellies eyes widened, before whisper-yelling at dina, "what the actual fuck, what fucking fuck--"
"hey deens, whats up?" you smiled bubbly, smiling at jesse and ellie, to be polite, of course. little did ellie know, you've noticed her before.
multiple times.
"i heard you needed help with trig? ellie here is actually really good" dina smiled, plotting in her head.
"wait, really?" your smile widened, you walked over to ellies side of the table and sat down, "can you help me, please" you basically begged, clasping your hands together, as you whined for her help.
dirty, dirty pictures flashed through ellies head but she shook them out, "y-yea sure" ellie scratched her shoulder, avoiding eye contact. you squealed, before looking for a piece of paper, you say ellies sketch book, and without invading her privacy, wrote your number on the corner of the page.
ellie was frozen the entire time, especially when pulled her into a hug and whispering in her ear, "you're the best" before getting back and up and jogging to your team, who're all grabbing a drink of water.
“you’re welcome” jesse said, while slipping an arm over dinas shoulder as she gave him an ‘you didn’t even do anything’ look.
“i hate you both” ellie frowned, her eyes lingering to the beauty of your handwriting, everything about you was beautiful she couldn’t handle it.
“sure you do, els.” dina laughed, leaning into jesse.
maybe studying with you would be better than third wheeling with dina and jesse.
—
“so, what d’you need help with?” ellie asked awkwardly, as she sat across from you in a cafe. you both had agreed on this place. every tuesday, you and ellie would be here. together.
“well..” you rambled, giving her a long list of the trig topics you were struggling with, even throwing in a few stories of how you tried to study but always ended up with D’s and at best a C minus.
ellie tried to focus, trust me, she really did. but there you sat, her long lived crush, in a pink tube top, with the cutest faded jeans that traced your curves, and ellie was just a girl.
could you blame her?
when you finished your rant, you looked at ellie expectantly, and she didn’t notice, she was too busy staring at your tits. that was before she realized the silence and shook the image out of her mind, before letting you pull out your homework so she could help explain whatever the fuck was going on.
and thats how it was every tuesday. you’d rant about your inability to do math while ellie was distracted with the dips and curves on your body, until she snapped out of it and helped you with math.
in the upcoming days, you noticed how cute ellie actually was, the way her freckled nose scrunched when she saw your wrong answer, her soft smile when you corrected yourself, her signature half up-half down hairstyle with her short auburn hair.
she was fucking adorable.
and a little bit of a loser.
as she got more comfortable, the unfortunate math rants would turn into actual conversations, you telling ellie about your new routines, even showing her them while she admired you subtly, ellie raving about savage starlight, and making you giggle with the way she worded things.
you were friends now.
but thats not exactly what you had in mind when you texted her.
ellie stood at your doorway, hesitating to press the doorbell. when she finally built up the confidence to press your doorbell, you pulled the door open, the excitement on your face was very obvious.
you squealed, pulling ellie into a hug, she looked down to see you in skimpy little bow print pajamas with your curly hair in two low puffs. she raised an eyebrow at the outfit choice which prompted you to playfully shove her, “i’m in the comfort of my own home” you giggled.
you turned around, dragging ellie with you, upstairs to your room. your house was a moderate size, peaceful and quiet. you led ellie into your room and she looked around awkwardly.
you plopped down on the bed, rolling onto your stomach and patting the place next you to gesture ellie to come over. she slowly sat on the edge of your bed, kicking off her busted converse.
“oh, c’mon ellie lay regularly” you said, referring to how you were positioned. she followed suit, always doing what you said no matter how much she hesitated.
“okay— time for trig, get your textbook out” she said, nudging your shoulder with hers.
“wait” you whined, “we didn’t have our talk first” you complained, tilting your head at her with a bit of a pout.
“what’re you talking about” she chuckled at your little pout, she found you so adorable but at the same time so fucking scary.
“y’know, that little ten minute period where we just talk about whatever” you mumbled, staring at the freckles adorning ellies adorable nose.
“okay then, talk and i’ll listen” she shrugged, getting a little nervous under your gaze. in ellies eyes, you were the most perfect girl in the world, it baffled her that you even considered her a friend. she had a enormous crush on you but she’d never admit it.
“okay…” you turned to lay on your back, smacking ellies forearm so she’d do the same, “d’you like my pajamas?” you asked, turning your head to face her.
you were inches away, ellie stuttered for a bit, causing you to giggle before gaining her composure, “y-yea. they’re cute” she mumbled.
“really? y’think so? wore em’ just for you” you confessed, smiling softly at her.
“really?” she mumbled, her yearning eyes looking up at you like you placed the stars in the sky.
“mhm, i knew you’d like it” your smile widened as you propped yourself up on your forearm, now a little above ellie. she moved to do the same but you pushed her back, making her eyes widen a bit.
“you’re s’pretty, els” you mumbled, tucking her auburn hair behind her now tinted-red ears.
“t-thanks” she responded after stuttering a bit, looking up at you with nervous eyes. “w-where are your parents?” she asked, her eyes darting around the room frantically, trying to avoid your eyes.
“they’re not here” you replied, almost immediately as your thumb traced ellies jaw, ellie eyebrows furrowed a bit, readjusting herself a bit, trying to distract herself from the situation at hand.
“what’re you doing?” ellie stuttered, as the pad of your thumb dragged down her lip. her pale cheeks were now tinted red as she avoided eye contact.
“nothing. d’you want me to do something?” you mumbled, looking down at her with low eyes, watching her eyes dart around the room, trying to disassociate.
silence filled the room, as ellie hesitated before she nodded softly, not a word coming out of her mouth as she avoided eye contact. you resisted the urge to smile as you softly grabbed her chin.
“i need words els, you’re smarter than that” you teased, forcing her to look at you, her eyes fluttered up to you into yours as she muttered a pathetic, “please?”
“good girl” you said with a giggle, leaning down to give her a soft kiss, her chapped lips intertwined with your plump ones, as your hand cupped her jaw. ellie’s mind was all over the place, here she was, kissing the head cheerleader and she was malfunctioning.
it took a few seconds for her to kiss back, after the intial phase of shock, she practically chased your lips, pulling you down a bit more to be closer to her. her hand traveled to your hip, slightly going under your skimpy pajamas shorts.
you chuckled against her lips, “greedy, huh?” with a smug smile gracing your lips. you threw your leg on the other side of her, now straddling the flustered girl before beginning to kiss her jaw, leaving her panting.
“h-haven’t really.. done anything like this before” she laughed nervously, not wanting to disappoint you. she could feel you giggle against her neck, “i know, els. i’ll teach you, don’t worry” you mumbled against her skin, reveling in power dynamic you two shared. ellies glasses were a bit fogged up and it was a sight to see, your nerdy little tutor under you, needy for your touch.
ellie was laid on her back on the bed with you on top of her, your torsos pressed against eachother as your lips moved in sync, a harmony ellie so desperately wanted to listen to forever. unfortunately, you pulled away, causing ellie to let out a pitiful whimper.
“s’okay baby, be patient” you smiled down at her as you sat up a bit to remove your pajama shirt, showing ellie your pretty baby pink bra. it wasn’t anything fancy, but ellie didn’t care, she didn’t care about anything when she could see your tits.
ellie was so adorable when she got shy, the cutest pink flush steadily spreading across her cheeks as her pupils dilated at the sight of them.
ellie was too shy to react outwardly, or say anything, if you didn’t tell her too, she probably wouldn’t even touch them, so you knew you had to take control.
ellie was just wearing a t-shirt and some jeans, which was easy for you to remove. you motioned for her to sit up, as you sat back on her thighs. she propped herself up on her palms still staring at your tits, fighting back the dirtiest thoughts.
“y’wearing too much clothes, baby” you mumbled, aiding her in taking her band t-shirt off, revealing her sports bra and her toned muscles and abdomen. you cursed under your breath, you knew she had muscles, you had even seen them before but tracing them under your fingers was a different feeling.
when ellie saw your eyes darken at the sight of her, she got a little self conscious, not stopping to say, “what’s wrong?” her eyes frantically searching yours for any displays of disgust but all she could see was lust.
“you’re so fuckin’ perfect, i can’t even—“ you were at a loss for words as you just stared at her. you were moments away from losing all self respect and just slobbering all over her toned abdomen, but you restrained yourself.
you could see ellie was still looking at your tits, if the world was ending she wouldn’t even know. “y’wanna touch em, cutie?” you asked with a smug smile, knowing she couldn’t resist.
she looked up at you with those puppy dog eyes, nodding eagerly, as you took one of her hands and slowly dragged it down your cleavage, letting it rest on one of your tits.
“go ahead, have fun” you said, letting her do what she had always fantasized about. you were aware that ellie was infatuated with your chest, but you weren’t aware that she had made multiple scenarios in her head with your tits in her mouth while she was supposed to be teaching you simple trigonometry formulas.
she dipped her head, placing messy open mouth kisses against your chest, her hands cupping at your tits, feeling the weight between her fingertips and she couldn’t help but moan, the poor girl was touch deprived and you were letting her squeeze and grope at your boobs, she was in heaven.
you slowly unclipped your bra, slipping down the straps and revealing your perky nipples to ellie, who could only whimper in response. she couldn’t handle it anymore, she had tried to be respectful and wait for instructions but she couldn’t. her lips latched around your nipple quickly and it solicited a sweet sounding moan from your lips.
you looked down at the girl and she was looking up at you already, reveling in your pleasure, as her tongue swirled around your nipple while her she rolled your other nipple in between her fingers.
you laughed in between moans, your eyebrows raised in surprise at how fast she caught on, “you— you’re doing s’good, fuck” you moaned out, still in shock.
“yea, i dream ‘bout this a lot” she mumbled around your tit, pulling away with a lust-filled smile, drenched your panties almost immediately. she moved on to the next tit, and she could’ve done it for hours if you hadn’t started rocking your hips against hers.
at this point her boxers were soaked, as her hips slightly bucked up to meet yours. she unlatched from your chest to pull you into a desperate kiss, it was messy and wet and you loved everything about it.
you could see her pressing her thighs together, unknowingly chasing friction and you wanted to be the one to give it to her. you gave her a few pecks before climbing off of her and between her legs, unbuttoning and unzipping her dark-washed jeans.
“w-wait, what’re you doing?” she asked, a little scared. ellie had no idea what to expect, all she ever experienced was her own fingers pumping in and out of her as she imagined they were yours.
“m’gonna make my girl cum, s’that okay?” you teased, as you patted her thigh as a message for her to lift her hips so you could slide her jeans off her.
when i tell you this girl is fit, fucking hell you almost died right there. you looked down to see a wet patch on her boxers where her crotch was and you giggled, leaning down to press a kiss against it making ellie shiver.
“fuck— please?” she begged, not even letting you take her boxers off first.
“okay, okay, such a needy girl, huh?” you teased kissing the inside of her thigh before hooking your fingers in the waistband of her boxers, pulling the down to reveal her adorable pink pussy.
“s’wet, all for me els?” you mumbled, looking up at her through low eyes as you situated yourself on your stomach, licking a kitten lick up her folds.
“shit— g’nna fucking kill me” ellie whined, automatically bucking her hips to try and get closer to your mouth. you held down her hips before taking her clit between your lips sucking on it hard, causing her to convulse, whimpers leaving her mouth like her life depended on it.
“god, i can’t do it” she shook her head, crying pathetically, grinding her hips against your face as you indulged in her, playing with her folds with your tongue while the tip of your finger rubbed her hole, sinking into it a bit, just to watch it suck your finger in desperately.
“y’can take it pretty girl, i know you can” you mumbled against her pussy, as her hands dragged against your comforter, looking for something to ground her.
the pathetic whines slipping from her lips make you slip your other hands into your own panties, rubbing at your clit, getting off on ellies pleading and whining.
“f-fuck, s’too much, can’t do it—“ ellie whined, her wide eyes watching as you dipped two fingers into her, her walls clenching around your fingers so deliciously.
“can’t even describe how perfect you are” you mumbled against her clit, the vibration making her shiver, your voice cracking a bit as you were also chasing your own orgasm, “pretty pussy just desperate for me huh? fucking swallowing me” you mumbled causing ellie to let out a guttural moan, her breath trembling.
you were having too much fun, the way her folds glistened from her wetness, her hole enlarging to take your fingers every time you pumped them in and out of you was ungodly and absolutely unreal.
“mother— fucker, shit!” she sobbed, cursing like a truck driver as her thighs shook, you could tell she was on the brink of her orgasm, you could see her stomach tensing. she looked down to see you just staring at how well her pussy took your fingers, with a pussy drunk smile. this was better than anything she had ever fantasized.
“g’nna cum, fuck— can’t— take it, shit!” she squeaked, her eyed fluttering in the back of her head as she rode out her high. ellie was a hardcore creamer, her cum staining your fingers as you played with it, watching it gush out of her tight little hole.
you licked it all up, swallowing every last bit, while trembling a bit from cumming yourself. you climbed back on top of her immediately catching her lips in a slow kiss, letting her taste herself, “fuck— you’re so—i didn’t expect that” ellie panted out.
“you’re rambling, els” you mumbled against her lips giggling.
“how’re you so good at that? how often do you do that” her eyebrows furrowed, a little fire of jealousy lit inside of her before you shut it down.
“not often, had a few girlfriends, picked up some skills, and now i can use them on you” you muttered, nipping at her lips, as her hands rested on your hips.
“only me?” she let slip, you could see in her eyes she regretted it as soon as she said it. you were head cheerleader, surrounded by attractive girls everyday who probably were more experienced than ellie, girls who could keep up with you. she knew you wouldn’t agree to that.
“only you” but she was wrong. you had been pining after the nerdy girl for a while, and you weren’t about to let her go now.
her glasses were now completely fogged up, even little water droplets on them from the body heat exchanged from you two.
“wanna help you, wanna get you off” ellie mumbled against your lips, squeezing your hips a bit harshly, causing you to lowly moan.
“yeah? wanna help me get off?” you said with a smile, bumping noses with ellie while she nodded, giggling a bit aswell
“mhm, please lemme’ make you feel good” she begged, between sensual kisses, her hand trying to slip underneath your pajamas shorts.
you tutted at her, causing her to furrow her brows in confusion, you climbed off of her to throw off your shorts and panties before placing a hand on ellies thigh, throwing one leg over hers so your heat was just above hers.
before you could do anything, ellie forcefully pulled you down to let your pussy meet hers. you moaned at the feeling of her warm wet folds rubbing against yours.
“fuck— just like that” you whined, placing your hand on ellies lower stomach for more control. ellies hand on your hip guided your grinds as her hips moved to meet yours. sinful sweet moans filled the room you slowly threw your head back at the pleasure you felt.
as you grinded against her the sound of your wet folds sliding against hers bounced off the walls along with your moans and whimpers and occasionally the muttering of profanities.
ellies grip on your waist became harder as she began to take control, and a involuntary whisper left your lips, your eyes fluttered closed as she pushed your pussy down against hers
“yea— y’like that? huh?” she said as she began to become even more confident, looking up at you with low eyes, her lips slightly ajar and rosy from all the kissing.
“shit— feels s’good els” you nodded, encouraging her to continue.
“god, you’re such a fuckin’ slut” she groaned, shocking you and possibly making you even more wet as you whined in response, urging her to go on.
“look at you, fuckin’ desperate to cum, had to lie to me— fuck— and say we were g’nna study?” she said through her teeth as she leaned her head back, the overstimulation beginning to make her shake.
“f-fuck, els m’gonna cum!” you cried, your hand pressing down on her lower abdomen as your grinds became messier.
“opened the door in that skimpy little outfit, like a goddamn whore, huh? y’were just begging to get fucked” she gritted, watching you fall apart on top of her, high pitched whines leaving your lips as you were at the brink of your orgasm.
“fuckin’ cum, so i can see how much a slut you really are” ellie was surprisingly good at degrading you, her words were what sent you over the edge, you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, you collapsed onto her, your sweaty bodies against eachother as you came, sobbing into her neck, shaking from how hard your orgasm had hit.
you laid against eachother, panting as you reveled in each others presence. ellie was just mumbling small sorries, a little worried that what she said had hurt your feelings, “s-shut up, williams” you chuckled tiredly, reassuring her that what she said did the exact opposite of hurt your feelings.
“was i good?” she asked quietly, still a little anxious about her performance. you laughed, pressing a kiss against her lips, “amazing, baby, y’did amazing” you whispered, loving how she smiled contently with your reply.
“we gotta clean up, els” you said, trying to prop yourself up but getting pulled back down by ellie.
“lets just stay here for a sec?” she said as more of a question than a statement.
you simply just nodded, enjoying her scent, her features, her.
Good nigth darling,you're okay?can we have more nerdy!abby pleaase i beg you 🙏🙏🙏(srry for my inglish)
teach me
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
a/n; hello, my love! i’m good, and i hope you are too! of course EEK i was going to write more for her anyway, i love a nerdy girl. also this is cut off asf I’M SORRY i’m tired, maybe i’ll do a part 2 if y’all ask <3
synopsis; you’ve never been good at science, let alone college biology. when your professor all but forced you to get a tutor, who should you end up with but your nerdy girlfriend, who has a very unique way of getting you to study?
pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader
warnings; abby uses baby/princess, use of a strap-on, cockwarming + edging (kinda), abby refers to the strap as her dick and it’s referred to as her dick/cock, choking, spanking, degradation (ish. abby’s tone is just mean), anddd i prob missed smt so lmk <3
wc; 2.2k
p.s.; ALSO this is was ib an ellie fic i saw bro idk where tf it is 😭 searching for it tho. i js remember it was nerdy ellie. it was so good BUT LIKE WHERE IS ITTT idk i’ll link it here if i find it
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
you’ve always sucked at science. biology, chemistry, whatever the hell it was, it had never been your cup of tea.
your professor had not so kindly recommended you get a tutor. otherwise, your grades would decline (more than they already were, that is). you didn't want a tutor, let alone for it to be someone you didn't know. you were already feeling awkward enough having to have someone tutor you at all—you couldn't imagine if it was by an unfamiliar.
that's where abby came in.
abby anderson was your girlfriend, and she was a nerd. like, cliche movie nerd. if you couldn't find her in her dorm, with you, or in class, she was at the library, doing homework until she couldn't anymore. she was a coffee addict with how late she was up each evening, study sessions, unnecessarily reviewing, and, again, homework.
let's just say, abby anderson would do crazy things for an a.
you didn't necessarily want to have abby as your tutor. for some reason, it was embarrassing to you. you had already felt that way when you told her you needed one at all. it would be 10x worse if she would be the one doing it.
not only that, the focus.
how the fuck were you going to focus when you have abby fucking anderson in front of you? when your mind races with memories of her fucking you from behind, or kissing down your neck, or making you the wettest you've ever been, just by being alive?
you weren't.
but abby was persistent. you had originally said no when she first asked to tutor you, but when the guy who was supposed to tutor you didn't even show for your first session, it was no longer a request.
it was a demand.
you were sitting beside abby in her dorm, working on an assignment for your biology class that was due the following day. you had taken up to ten breaks by now, and it had only been an hour and a half or so.
abby pushed her glasses up on her face as she looked over at you, eyebrow raised. you had been dozing off, elbow on the desk and chin on your palm as your eyes began to fall shut.
"hey," abby snapped her large hand in front of your face, making your eyes open again just as quickly as it had happened. "are you listening to me?"
no.
"yeah. yeah, sorry, i just, um—dna and rna. that's what we're learning now, right?" you ask confusedly, doing your best to make it seem like you know what you’re talking about.
but the look on abby's face tells you all you need to know.
"mhm, like, ten minutes ago," abby hums a bit annoyedly, and you can't help but let out a sigh. it's bad enough you have to be here at all, but letting abby down, or worse, pissing her off, was the last thing you wanted to do. “you're never going to learn if you don't put any effort in," she sighs.
“c’mon, abs,” you whined as you set your pencil aside, putting your head down on the desk, eyes on abby. the blonde set her own pen down with a small shake of the head, expression unreadable. “i can’t do this anymore,” you said dramatically. abby rolled her eyes.
“what’s wrong now?” abby asked, but it’s not like she really wanted to know the answer. you knew how seriously abby took her own schoolwork, which may be the reason she was annoyed that you didn’t. but you just weren’t like that.
“none of this makes sense. i can’t remember a thing we go over. god, i hate biology,” you complained once more, looking away from abby.
abby sighed as she put a hand on your shoulder. as much as she wanted to be annoyed, she loved you, and she knew full well that even if you were smart, biology was your worst class.
“what can i do to help, baby? flashcards, d’you want me to quiz you? what do you need?” abby asked as she moved her hand to your back, rubbing it. you shrugged.
“i dunno. i don’t think any of that stuff is going to help me, abby. my memory’s—not that good,” you lamely huffed, but it was true. your memory was best when it came down to the things you cared for. college biology was not one of them.
“hm,” abby hummed. it took a beat, a small pause. but then, abby’s perked eyebrows told you that she had just gotten an idea, and so did the way her plump lips curled into a grin.
“i think i know what’ll do the trick.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
that’s how you ended up on abby’s lap, her cock buried deep inside of you as she gripped you by the bottom. abby’s way of bettering your sour memory came in the form of one of the most agonizing experiences you had ever had.
“how does dna differ from rna?” abby asks you casually, as if she isn’t filling you to the brim. you feel your face getting hot, bottom lip bitten down on as you look at her nervously.
“u- uhm. d- dna has a d- double helix model, fuck,” you whine. you must be at least a little correct, because abby bucks her hips up into you, causing the silicone dildo to move inside of you. “rna’s single, a- and involved in a different process than dna.”
“attagirl,” abby praised. it’s then that she grabbed you by the ass, hard, and forced you to ride up to the top of her dick, just before she’s slamming you back down. for only a few seconds, you gain some pleasure by moving your body like that, or abby doing it for you, that is.
but then, she’s robbing it away from you, just like that.
“a- abby, please, c’mon,” you whimper. this had been going on for a third of an hour or so. abby would ask you a question from the deck of index cards she had made for you, and you would answer. simple, right?
wrong.
because here's the thing: she wouldn’t move unless you answered her, and it had to be correct. and if not?
smack.
abby's large hand comes down on your ass as if to shut you up. really, it doesn't. you let out a moan as she then grabs your ass again, not giving a care to how sore you may be.
because she's already slapped you way too many times to count.
“don't act like this isn't for your own good," she says firmly, reprimanding you. "you got that one wrong last time. and we’re not going to stop until you’ve got that whole fucking deck memorized, you got that?” she asks, signaling to the forgotten pile of index cards on the desk behind you. you whine, body too achy for abby to deny her.
“f- fine," you whine, because who the hell would you be to say no?
“good girl," abby praises as she rubs her hands over your bottom, caressing you in a loving manner, a wide difference to the way she was addressing you mere seconds before. "now, can you tell me what a neuron is?”
doing your best to not focus on the feeling inside you, you nod, and easily answer. “a- a neuron—" you huff. "is a specialized cell.”
abby moves her hands to your hips and pushed you up, so that you're around halfway down on her cock. you let out a small shudder, but it must mean you're correct. “and what’s it do?” abby then asks.
to some degree.
but you know this one. after all, it was one of the last cards you looked at in the deck. so, you respond, “transmit.”
abby moves you up more, and this time, she brings one of her hands up to cup your tit. she plays with your nipple if only for a second, causing you to let out a low moan. but just when you think she's going to keep going, of course, she doesn't.
“transmit what?” she asks firmly as her fingers caress your rib cage, and it's all you can do not to roll your eyes.
“nerve impulses," you say a bit too fast, eager to have her hands back on you. your neediness helped you on that one. "i- it’s the basic unit of the nervous system," you add, for good measure.
"that's right, princess," abby smirked, course she did. she had always had way too much fun when she was driving you crazy during sex. this was no different.
but you're pleased to find yourself rewarded, because abby allows you to ride her again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your girlfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. abby begins to rub your clit as she gazes at you fucking yourself on her dick, way too needy for her touch.
"eager girl," abby cooed, rubbing her index on your clit in quick circles. "so needy for my cock, aren't you?"
"yes," you huff out fast, eyes closing shut at the feeling under you.
"too bad."
abby shoves you all the way back down her dick, so that you're all the way back down at the base. it pleasures you for only a second, before the feeling vanishes, just like that.
"abby, f- fuck," you groan annoyedly, body begging for a release you know abby won't give you unless you do what she tells you to do.
and she doesn't like your words.
abby grabs you by the neck, forcing you to look at her as you roll your eyes in the brattiest manner she's ever seen from you. "look at me. look at me when i'm talking to you," and she uses that tone you know she only uses when she's not playing games, barking your full name out at the end like the word pains her tongue.
once she's got your eyes on her, she speaks once more. "if you really want this dick, and i know you do, you're gonna take what i give you like the good girl you are. that clear?"
you keep your eyes on her, scared of what will happen if you don't, face hot as you answer. "y- yes, ma'am."
"primary use of the kidneys?" abby asks, not even giving you praise for obeying her. but you're not at all surprised by that: if there was one thing about abby, she did not like your bratty side.
this time, unlike what abby's asked you before, you can't remember the answer to this. like, at all. you fumble with it for a second, digging through your head for what it could be. but you don't get a response.
"i- i don't know," you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of what to say. abby isn't having it, obviously, because one mlre spank is coming down onto your ass before you know it.
"f- fuck!" you whine brokenly, head rocking back, and bottom sore from each hit abby's given you. she doesn't seem to care.
"yes, you do," she all but growls at you, and you think of your real class all too quickly, like she's your professor. "we went over this. so fucking tell me," she says, and it only makes your abdomen churn more.
and fill with butterflies.
“s- something to do with b- blood pressure, right? c- controlling it? please say yes," you were begging more to yourself than to abby, not even sure where that answer came from.
“mhm, and what else?" she coos, doing what she's done a million times before: moving you halfway up her cock.
"i- i don't know, abs. can't remember," you mutter, and really, how could you by now?
it looks like abby is feeling a little generous this time, because she helps you along. "what’s it do to your body, princess? begins with an 'r',” she asked.
even when your brain begins to fog up with all of the questions in your head, and what's happening besides that, it seems to click for you when abby says the letter 'r.' “r- regulates it? th- the fluid balance?”
“mhm," abby says with a small nod of approval, even kissing your chest this time as a reward.
"there’s my smart girl.”
and it goes on like that forever, question, answer, question, answer. sometimes, you got abby's cock easily. most times, you weren't so lucky.
your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out the answer to the final card in the deck. once you do, you let out a deep, long exhale, which makes abby chuckle.
"see, pretty girl? wasn't that bad, was it?" abby coos, putting her hand up to cup your cheek. obviously, you want to say no. but after all of this, it was too risky to be bratty to abby. so you shake your head.
and you hadn’t even finished yet.
"n- no, it was—fine," you lie, and abby knows you are. but she doesn't ask about it, knowing full well how much she's done to you already.
cw: 18+ mdni // era-typical misogyny, fem!reader, masculine!ellie, dom + switch!reader, sub + switch!ellie, oral, finger & face f*cking, general rough treatment, mommy k!nk, slight dub con // not totally proofread
an: this is so completely self indulgent, it just came to me after I watched a tv show and I wanted to write something filthy lmfao! this is my first time writing full length smut so pls be nice :) anyway happy reading - sincerely, sugar ✧˖° ⚔️
You had your sights set on her from the very beginning.
You met Dame Ellie Williams for the first time at the annual military ball. Your father, was promoting his best soldiers to the royal guard, and for the first time ever one of the lucky chosen few was a woman. She was gorgeous, lean and built with lithe muscle. Jaw sharper than her sword and kind eyes like sea glass. She was last in line to have her uniform pinned with the family crest and after greeting both of your parents, her eyes landed on you. Her face inflamed and the easy going charm she had with the King and Queen melted instantly. Her bow was off kilter and when she kissed your gloved hand you swore you could hear the faintest whimper fall from her lips after they connected with the silk.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your highness.” She said shakily as she straightened, still not meeting your eye.
“The pleasure is all mine.” You said, and at the sound of your voice Ellie felt something flutter inside her.
You just had to have her.
Unfortunately she was assigned to your fathers security detail soon after the ball, one of the few guards trusted to escort him to and from the palace, ensuring his safe return to his wife and only daughter. But that simply wouldn’t do. You only saw Ellie a few times a month- at dinners over foreign affairs or at jousting tournaments, where she stood guard looking handsome and stoic, too far away from you for your liking.
You set out on a mission to have her…promoted. You wanted her in your bed, between your thighs and the only way to get her to break her discipline and her decorum, was to have her by your side without fail, every single day.
It was a late summer evening when you began the first phase of your plan. You needed to get your parents attention, force them to have a reason to assign you a personal guard. You needed to do something big, something that broke almost every royal decree of protocol. A late night rendezvous with some friends at the tavern in nothing but your nightgown sufficed. Half the royal guard was sent out to search for you when your handmaiden found your bed empty that morning. When your fathers men finally found you, dancing on the bartop in the tiniest of silk slips with a pint in both hands, your parents were not best pleased.
The lecture you received was mind numbing. You’d acted out before but this behavior was ‘not becoming of a princess’ and your parents were appalled.
“Perhaps we need to find someone to look after you.” Your mother suggested, manicured fingers rubbing her temple to relive the stress fueled tension there.
“Mother, no! I’m not a child!” You complained, knowing that the more you pushed back, the firmer they’d be.
“You sure seem to have a penchant for acting like one!” Your father sighed angrily. “You can have your pick of the newly appointed guardsmen.”
“Father, if I have to have some glorified babysitter watch my every move I don’t want it to be some strange man from the guard!”
“She does have a point my love” you mother said, touching the King’s arm fondly.
Your father let out an exhausted sigh. “Will Dame Williams suffice? She is of top rank…and a woman, I suppose.”
You tried your best to control your excitement. “That will do just fine.”
Your father nodded with finality and dismissed you to your wing of the castle.
And that is how you wound up with Ellie at the door to your bedchambers every morning. You become quick friends, after you wore her down of course. She was trained to be hardened, always on the look out for danger. But overtime she’d grown to have a soft spot for you. You’d finally gotten her to see you as a friend and not just a job. She felt bad that you were cooped up in the castle, being bred for marriage and motherhood. She was kind to you, and kept you company throughout your days. She was your chess partner, confidant, and escort on many frequent trips to the library.
But you wanted more. You noticed the way she looked at you when she thought you wouldn’t see. How her eyes lingered on your chest when you laughed and how her speech became stuttered and breathy when you touched her arm.
You just needed her too see you differently, less like her friend… more like a lover.
You decided that it was finally time for phase two. You needed to break her, but first she needed to be worked up, to a point she couldn’t return from.
You told Ellie you needed to rest, and take an afternoon nap in the comfort of your bed. Of course she needed to stay and protect you, so you begged her to stand right outside your bedroom door and make sure no one interrupted you. Ellie, oblivious as always, readily agreed and stood post.
What she didn’t know was that you weren’t sleeping, no. You stripped down to your chemise and settled yourself upon your grand bed. You thought of her green eyes and strong thighs and slowly started to trail your finger down to your already dripping core. You pressed a finger to that sensitive bundle of nerves and started a slow, easy rhythm. You imagined what she would taste like, what she’d feel like beneath you and you couldn’t help the sounds that dripped from your lips.
“Ellie,” you whined into your cushion.
You gripped your chest with you other hand, pulling and twisting your nipples until they stiffened to peaks. You pressed a finger into your tight hole and couldn’t control the loud moan that fled your mouth.
On the other side of the door Ellie’s attention was instantly grabbed. She pressed her ear to the wood, not sure if you were calling out to her by accident in your sleep or because there was danger nearby. You moaned again and Ellie discovered that neither of the former were true: there was no danger and you weren’t sleep talking either. Her cheeks burst into a crimson flame as she realized what you were up to. You cried her name out again, muffled by the pillows as you added a second finger and Ellie gripped the doorframe so tight she feared she would splinter the oak trim. She was wracked with inner turmoil: she felt so guilty that she could hear you, but the sounds you were making- the fact that you wanted her, it was all too much. She could feel a dampness grow between her thighs at your siren call. But no- she had to control herself. Ellie willed her feet to carry her across the room, and she sat down stiffly on one of the settees in the receiving room, and forced herself not to intrude on your personal time. But your hypnotic call only grew louder. When you finally climaxed, Ellie heard it loud and clear, and when you left your bedroom for dinner you noticed a lovely blush on on the knight’s freckled cheeks.
You were sad that Ellie hadn’t burst into your bedroom to catch you in the act, but you had expected her to be this stubborn. You would just have to entrap her another way.
You gave her many excuses to see your body in questionable states of undress. You would frequently dismiss your lady’s maid and make Ellie help you get ready- instructing her on how to lace up your corset just right as you elegantly held your hair up.
“Like this, your highness?”
“Mhm. A little tighter, Ellie.” You’d whisper. You could here the hitch in her breath and it excited you beyond belief. She’d yank the laces harder and you’d brace yourself with a grunt against your vanity. “You can go harder, you won’t hurt me.”
Ellie swore under her breath and pulled again.
Once you were fully dressed you’d twirl for her, ask her opinion on your new dress and watch her stutter her way through a compliment as she tried her damn hardest not to ogle the tantalizing swell of your breasts in that godforsaken corset.
Other times you would force her to escort you to the palace kitchen in the middle of the night, claiming that you were “feeling a bit hungry, and longed for something sweet.”
Ellie would advise you that it wasn’t safe to roam the palace at night, even with her there to watch over you. But you’d beg and beg, and she just couldn’t say no to you. You wouldn’t bother to cover up, you would just slide a thin robe over your slip dress and pop your slippers onto your feet.
You held Ellie’s arm as you talked her ear off, playing with the fastening on her uniform as you strolled through the castle’s maze like hallways.
Once you made it to the kitchen you glided from place to place, finding fruit or old pastries to add to your plate.
“Did you like serving in the military, Ellie?” You asked, chopping up a few strawberries.
“Of course,” she answered immediately, “it was an honor to serve my country.”
“But didn’t you ever get lonely- those cold barracks, no one to keep you company. No one to keep you warm.” You offered her a chunk of fruit from the end of the knife. She bit it off gently and chewed, not meeting your eyes.
“I had rum and a blanket.” Ellie deadpanned, before rolling her eyes playfully- avoiding the question. But then you licked some strawberry juice off of your finger and she stopped smiling. Her eyes followed the path of your tongue and you watched her ball her fist, a pitiful attempt at self control. Oh, how you loved to toy with her.
But of course, she didn’t take the bait. “We should… be getting back, your highness. Finish up assembling your plate so I can escort you to your bedchamber.”
It was a chilly night, a storm was raging outside your windows snd you were starting to give up hope. Ellie still hadn’t cracked and you were growing tired of this game you two were playing. It was her day off, so you were already bored out of your mind, missing her as well, and anxious as thunder roared outside your window. It was well past sunset when a knock sounded at your door. When you pulled it open you were surprised to see Ellie, hair dripping and lips glistening with rain water.
“Ellie, oh God, what happened to you!”
“There’s flooding outside the castle. The servants basement quarters are too dangerous to stay in so your father called in all the guard to assist in relocating the palace staff.”
“Oh no! Is everyone alright?”
Ellie gave a small smile at your concern and touched you arm comfortingly. “Everyone is safe and sound, princess. The King has offered the guest rooms up to them and we’ve scrounged up some extra cots.”
“Thank goodness.” You sighed in relief.
“Your mother just wanted me to inform you, so… I’ll be on my way. Goodnight, your highness.”
“It’s still too dangerous to go home Ellie! What wing of the castle are you staying in?”
She gives you a sheepish grin, “most of the rooms are full. There are mothers with children that need those beds. I was just going to find a chair to pass out in.”
You lips parted in shock. “Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m allowing that when I have a perfectly fine bed right in here.” You grabbed her arm and pulled her into your rooms, slamming the door behind you.
“Your highness I couldn’t possibly-“ Ellie began shaking her head vigorously. In doing so, she flung a few water droplets on you and you shrieked, giggling as you backed away.
“Nonsense. Just sit here while I get you a towel!” You told her, depositing her in front of your fireplace.
You returned with blankets, towels and the leftovers from your dinner, which you’d taken in your bedroom tonight. You handed her the uneaten baguette as you layed the blankets down in front of the fire. You tossed a few cushion on the floor as well, for extra coziness.
“Shoes,” you said, gesturing for Ellie to hand her soaking boots over to you. She sighed, knowing you wouldn’t take no for an answer and started unlacing them. Once off, you put them close to the hearth to dry off.
Ellie looked beautiful in front of the fire. You’d never seen her hair down, and the aubern locks glowed in the low light. The flames cast shadows on her sculpted face and you were reminded of just how handsome she was.
“Please join me,” Ellie said, drawing you out of your admiration, “I feel guilty taking all the warmth for myself.”
You dropped down beside her, and she opened up the blanket around her shoulders too you. You readily curled into her and she draped the ends of it over you.
“Are you comfortable? All dry?” You questioned, still worried that she would catch cold.
“I’m all good, princess.” You nodded and layed your head on her shoulder.
“You’re so kind to help all those people, Ellie.”
She shook her head, “just doing my job your highness.”
“I know, I know but still. You’re so good. And selfless. That’s why- that’s why I like you so much…you’re very dear to me.”
Ellie sat upright, looking down at you bewildered, “you like me??”
You rolled your eyes and shoved her, “seriously! this cannot be news to you.”
But Ellie looked so confused, her brows furrowed adorably and you found yourself laughing out loud.
“I’ve wanted you ever since the military ball all those months ago!”
“I thought you’d were just…lusting after me,” she spluttered, “I thought you would eventually move on. I didn’t know you had…feelings. Real ones.”
You clutched her cheeks in your hands desperately, “Ellie of course I have real feelings. You are the kindest, most brave, most gorgeous person I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. I’d be a fool not to.” You touched your forehead to hers and Ellie’s gaze was glued to your plush lips, as were yours to hers.
“Your highness…we can’t.” She whispered, voice strained.
“Please, ellie. Don’t deny me any longer.”
She groaned and screwed her eyes shut, weighing her options.
She could have you and lose her title.
Or not and be miserable for eternity.
You, of course, made the decision for her when you surged forward and claimed her lips as yours. When she felt the softness of your moth against hers all the logic in Ellie’s head flew right out. She slid her hands down your waist and gripped you tightly, pulling you to her.
You pulled away first, breathless- “I want you. Right here, right now.”
“Fuck,” ellie cursed and pulled you back into her.
You mount her, straddling her lap and pushing a hand down on her chest. Ellie’s head lands on a mass of pillow with a ‘thump’ and she gazes up at you in surprise. There was no time for softness, no time to pretend to be the demure, innocent princess. You’d waited far too long and you knew what you wanted.
You pulled your silk sleep dress over your head and dropped it on the floor. Ellie’s cheeks burned at the sight of your bare chest and you grinned at her reaction.
“Christ.” She choked out, immediately bringing her shaking hands up to your body, “can I? Please?”
You smiled down at her and nodded. She pressed her palms to you breasts and you both moaned at the feeling. Her roughened hands felt perfect on your skin, just as you’d imagined. Soon Ellie replaced her hands with her mouth and you drag your hips down into hers as she sucked a nipple into her mouth.
“God- fuck, Ellie just like that, sweetheart.” She whined into your chest at the pet name and you laughed. “Such a talented mouth on you, baby. Want to put it to good use for me?” She nodded her head eagerly and released your breast with a pop, lips still shiny and wet.
You smoothly slid off her and layed down against the soft blankets. You then touched a single finger to your dripping core, beckoning her over with the other hand. Ellie scrambled over to you, positioning herself between your thighs.
“Lie on your stomach for me,” you instructed and she immediately lowered herself down. You liked how well she followed instructions, and loved how little it took for her to submit to you. “Good girl, Ellie.” The knight groaned and rested her cheek against your thigh, like she couldn’t handle your praise.
You reached down and ran your hands through her hair, scratching gently at her scalp and she whined again at your touch. “I want you to make me come, okay?”
“I can do that,” she said eagerly, “I’ll do anything. Just- please let me touch you. Please.” She ran a finger down your clothed slit and you shivered.
“No, baby I want you to use your mouth. Only your mouth.” You sighed, trying your hardest not to buck your pussy up into her touch. “Now take my panties off. No hands.”
Ellie nodded then lowered her mouth to your hips and hooked her teeth around the lacy fabric, before pulling it down you thighs. When she finished she looked up at you expectantly, and you realized she was waiting for your permission to taste you. You almost came at the thought- she was such well trained soldier. You’d have to send a thank you note to the head general.
The first swipe of Ellie tongue sent shockwaves through you. She ate you like she was starved and you were a delicacy. She took your sensitive bud into her mouth and sucked once, then twice and you cried out in pleasure.
“Fuck- Ellie! Keep going, doing so g-good.”
She doubled down on her ministrations , gripping your hips in her big hands. She slid one of your thighs over her shoulder and pressed you impossibly closer. You couldn’t handle the pleasure. You’d never felt anything this good and you could’ve cried at the feeling. And you did, a few stray tears leaked out of your eyes as Ellie thrust her to tongue down into your entrance. You were getting closer by the second. You gripped Ellie’s hair in your hands and pushed her mouth into you roughly. She moaned into your core and the vibrations made you buck up into her wanting mouth- which felt heavenly. You began dragging your clit across Ellie’s tongue, selfishly using her pretty little mouth to get off.
Ellie was surprised at how aroused she became at your aggressive treatment. She’d been with many girls in her day, but none of them ever as bold as you. Before she knew it her hips were grinding down into the pillows below her, trying to find even a morsel of relief. Ellie whined into your cunt, and you groaned at the feeling, “I know, baby. I know- I’m just- I’m so close. FUCK! Just a bit longer, mommy’s almost there.”
You looked down at her- and she was beautiful: hair messy, cheeks flushed, hands limp on your hips as you used her. It was that image that sent you free falling over the edge, tumbling to your climax.
You release your grip on Ellie’s hair and she fell against your thigh, gasping for air and whimpering in pleasure.
You stroked her hair and cooed at her as you came down from your orgasm, the cool air of the room hitting your abused cunt just right.
Ellie finally sat up, after taking a few moments to catch her breath- her cheeks and chin smeared with the evidence of your orgasm.
“Was- was it good? Did I do good job?” She asked shyly.
“Yes, you made me feel so good!” You told her, pressing kiss after kiss to her wet face. She blushed even harder and dropped her head down onto your shoulder. “I’d like to return the favor now, darling. If that’s okay with you?”
Ellie’s breath hitched and she gripped your hand. “I’ve never had anyone- in that way. I’ve only ever touched women. They… usually don’t touch me.”
You frowned at her confession, saddened that she’d never received the pleasure she deserved. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel.”
You watched her ponder your offer, and then she shook her head yes. “Alright. But maybe- just your fingers please. For now.”
“Anything you want, baby.”
You lay her down gently against the pillows, and kissed her forehead, then her lips. You could taste yourself on her tongue and that sent you reeling. You kissed your way down her neck, stopping at her chest. “Can I take this off of you?” You asked, tugging at her uniform top.
She nodded and you smiled, unbuttoning it quickly.
“So fucking pretty,” you whispered under your breath as you pressed your mouth to Ellie’s chest. She cradled your head as you left bruises on the swell of her breasts.
You bite the skin of her toned stomach and continue your conquest. You look up at her, silently asking permission to remove her trousers and she nods, biting the insides of her cheek in anticipation. You tug her bottoms and undergarments off until she’s laid bare for you and you admire the glorious curves of her strong body.
You stroke a single finger against her wet heat and she’s instantly mess, head thrown back, stomach clenching at the intensity of her pleasure. You played with her a little, pinching her lips and cupping her pussy, and Ellie sobbed at your touch. You just loved to watch her break- she was so pliant beneath you and the power trip sent a thrill down your spine.
You pressed a finger inside of her and Ellie keened, clutching your wrist with tears in her eyes. You felt her clench around you and you groaned at the sensation. “Think you can handle another finger, my love?” You asked, after a particularly rough thrust.
“Give me more- please, I can- fuck! I can take it.”
You smirked down at her, “you’d take anything I give you, huh?”
“Yes!” She cried, at the feeling of another one of your fingers stretching her out.
You continued fucking her, one hand inside of her tight heat and the other sweetly caressing her cheek. You caught her falling tears with your lips as you kissed her freckles. “That’s it baby. Doing so good. My brave girl.”
Ellie writhed underneath you and you smiled.
“M’close.” She cried tearfully.
You took in her wrecked form and decided she could handle more. You pressed yet another finger up into her, curling your digits until every thrust was hitting that perfect spot deep inside her. Ellie jackknifed off the floor, curling into herself at how good it felt. You pressed a delicate hand to her abdomen to keep her down as you continued thrusting your fingers into her.
“You want to come, sweetheart?” You asked her, stilling your pace inside her. Ellie whimpered at the lack of stimulation, bright green eyes snapping open to look at you, pleading for release.
“Oh God- yes.” She whispered, breathing so heavily her breasts jumped with her jerky, desperate movements.
“Please, what?”
“Please, your highness! P-please- I can’t. I need-”
You thrust back into her in one swift motion and Ellie cried out, instantly clenching down around you and trapping your hand in a vice grip between her thighs. She looked beautiful when she came, open and wanting, skin glowing from the firelight. Set ablaze, inside and out.
You soothed your knight through the aftershocks of her orgasm with gentle touches. When she finally stopped trembling you eased her back against the pillows, pulling a quilt over the both of you. She curled her body around you, still trying to protect you even in her ravaged state.
The fire was dying, but the room still held a warm and bright glow.
“Thank you, Ellie- for this.” You whispered.
She smiled and pressed a kiss to your hair, slinging her arm around your torso and pulling you to her chest. “The pleasure is all mine, princess.”
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