#dellabs

[tacticaljorts]

what is the icecube situation......

😏

I will be so honest: this started as a joke and unfortunately it's not a joke anymore.

drunk truth or dare situation leads to dina domming abby into putting an ice cube up ellie's butt. except they don't actually get there because abby has really nice fingers, obviously.

i tried to add a preview for this but the whole thing is way too explicit and I got embarrassed <3 sorry

[gardengnosticator]

epilogue ellie rocking back up to the farm with abby and lev in tow like "well dina i thought jj could use a sibling and also you could use another girlfriend who didn't leave you and that after letting her bite my fingers off i guess shes my other girlfriend too" and dina is maddddddddddddd but it works

[gardengnosticator]

dellabs moment where dina and abby FINALLY get ellie to treat her core training seriously and force her to actually do something and they put her through such a brutal circuit of sit-ups and leg raises and bicycle crunches the poor girl goes and makes a mess of herself.

[tacticaljorts]

rival ellabs where dina lets abby eat her out while ellie watches (and begs for her turn), only for dina to make her kiss abby so she can lick the taste of her off her lips. is this anything

[giveherswords]

one night borrowed

Dina/Ellie/Abby halloween threesome | kinktober oneshot | 3.5k

"my wife and I saw you from across the bar" vibes (but better, bc dellabs)

abby never meant to go out with the rugby girls, but on halloween night she sees ellie first—green eyes, red hair—and then dina’s hand fisted in it, the glint of a collar. she should look away. she doesn’t. what follows isn’t seduction so much as surrender: dina’s calm control, ellie’s restless need, and abby’s own strength turned toward the one thing she’s never let herself want—to be used, praised, and kept.

Contents: Modern setting, Dom!Dina, Switch!Ellie, sub!Abby explicit f/f/f sex (oral, fingering, breast play, face-sitting). WC: 3.5k

Abby hadn’t meant to come out.

She’d said the same thing every week—nah, I’m good, maybe next time—but halloween night the rugby girls had laughed and dragged her anyway.

The house was one of those off-campus rentals that smelled like last semester: sticky floors and too-sweet drinks, the porch sagging under a line of carved pumpkins collapsing inward.

Inside, the bass turned the drywall into a chest cavity. People were already sweating through their costumes. She’d thrown on black jeans and a flannel and let Nora smear a thumb of charcoal under each eye.

“There,” Nora had said, pleased. “Spooky biceps.”

Abby posted up on the kitchen threshold because it had a wall she could lean on and a door she could stand near. She held a cup she didn’t drink. It gave her hands a purpose.

The party did what parties do: split and recombine, conversations fracturing, bodies pinballing from room to room. She could be useful in a scrum. Here she felt too much and not enough at the same time.

She saw the red hair first.

Short, sharp, glitter clinging to the edges like dust from a comet. Not a costume. A band shirt soft with years, black jeans torn at the knees, boots unlaced like she’d already decided how the night would end.

Ellie. 

Abby knew of her, the way you learn a face without a name because it keeps appearing where you are: the coffee shop on Park Ave, hunched over a notebook; the art building steps, mouth set around a stubborn thought; the library stacks, green eyes catching the fluorescent like crushed glass.

Seeing her here hit like realizing you’d been bracing for bad weather and got the first cold drop.

Abby told herself not to stare. Staring got you noticed, and being noticed meant you had to do something with it. She took a slow sip of warm beer and made the mistake of looking again.

Another girl came up behind the redhead—Dina—the one Abby had clocked before with the same quiet certainty. Dark curls, warm skin that glowed even in bad house lighting, eyes the color of old wood. She moved like someone who trusted the ground.

Dina lifted a hand and ran it through the short hair once, twice, then made a fist and drew the head back in a small perfect line that bared the throat.

The motion was gentle and it wasn’t.

Music swallowed whatever sound Ellie made, but Abby could feel it anyway, the way a struck string can hum against your own ribs. A shirt collar shifted. Underneath, at the hollow of the throat, a circle of metal flashed—silver O-ring, leather dark as a bruise.

Anyone else would have taken it for a Halloween prop, some part of a half-assed punk outfit. Abby knew better. 

Her lungs forgot how to open. The want was so sharp it felt like anger. She looked away because she had to, caught her reflection in the microwave door—too tall, too much, shoulders hunched to make herself smaller—and felt late to a language her body had been speaking for years.

It didn’t matter. Every time she blinked, the image reprinted itself: the slight tilt of Ellie’s head, the private bend of Dina’s mouth toward her ear, the flush traveling the column of her throat.

What would she do next? Where would her hand go? How would she praise her? 

The questions swarmed until Abby’s grip on the plastic cup went white at the crease.

Her teammates shriek-laughed their way past and caught her in the undertow toward the living room, where the speakers vibrated like a second heart. She let them have her, let motion do what language couldn’t. The strobe washed everyone into masks: open mouths, thrown heads, hands on hips that weren’t theirs.

Later, when Abby looked up from the floor, her eyes caught and snagged on the couch. 

Ellie half under Dina’s arm. A joint passing. Smoke turning the light into something you could swim through.

Ellie tipped her head back for a slow inhale, then found Abby over the rim of the room as she exhaled—eye contact that held and held until Ellie leaned to say something into Dina’s hair. Dina lifted her head and looked straight at Abby, and whatever she saw there didn’t make her look away.

Abby did. She stared at the scuffed floor and told herself to be a person who could be normal. She failed.

Then a touch landed at her wrist: cool fingers, a pulse under skin that wasn’t hers. She looked up into Dina’s searching gaze.

She was even more beautiful near enough to count freckles. Full mouth parted like she’d just been about to speak. Those steady brown eyes that made the music drop away to a soft thud.

“Hey,” Dina said.

Abby’s voice, when it came, had gravel in it. “What’s up.”

Over Dina’s shoulder, Ellie stood and chewed the corner of her bottom lip like she’d been caught looking and didn’t mind it. Dina slid her fingers into Ellie’s and squeezed once before turning back to Abby.

“My girlfriend and I saw you from across the room,” she said, as if reporting the weather. Ellie rolled her eyes and blushed, which only made Abby dizzier. “Life’s too short for stupid games.”

A beat.

“We think you’re pretty fucking hot. Do you want to dance with us?”

The invitation was so plain it emptied Abby out. Heat ran under her skin, pooling low and tidal; her breath hitched and released like a misfiring engine. She managed a nod that might have been a word.

The three of them made a line through bodies and sweat and laughter.

On the floor where the bass was closest to bone, Dina turned them into a shape without asking. She slid Ellie behind her, caught Ellie’s hands and wrapped them around her own waist; Ellie tucked her face into Dina’s hair with a soft sound that hit Abby somewhere old.

Abby hovered a step back, hands stupid at her sides, feeling huge as a truck in a place built for bicycles.

Dina saved her again. She caught Abby’s wrists, cool fingers confident, and set Abby’s hands on her shoulders like placing weights on a bar. Then she drew her forward by slow degrees, palms skating down Abby’s back to her hips, tugging until the three of them made a closed circuit.

Ellie’s arms, still around Dina, pressed into the fronts of Abby’s thighs. Dina’s leg slipped between Abby’s, steady and unhurried, and the press of it turned Abby’s breath into a gasp that never made it out of her mouth.

She didn’t know what to do with her face, so she looked at Dina’s neck. A curl stuck to her skin with sweat; Abby wanted to put her mouth there. Dina’s hands slid up to Abby’s neck and pulled, and for a split, perfect second Abby thought she was about to be kissed in front of everybody.

Instead, Dina brought their cheeks together, hair whispering against Abby’s collarbone, and said in her ear, low and even, “Wanna get out of here?”

The word yes jumped ahead of everything else.

Triumph shot through her like a flare, then dropped into a heavy wanting that left her blinking. Her hips were still moving, greedy as tide, and Ellie’s hands had found Abby’s legs through Dina’s frame, holding them all where they were like the answer was already a fact.

Outside, the air was too clean. Their breath made small ghosts.

Dina walked ahead with Ellie’s hand in hers, not fast, just like someone who hadn’t learned how to hesitate. Abby followed a half-step behind, self-conscious about the sound of her boots on pavement. The dorm hall fluorescents made everybody look a little unreal; Dina glanced back once on the stairs, eyes warm, and something inside Abby unclenched enough to keep climbing.

Dina’s room was small and honest. Desk with neat stacks. String lights giving the white walls a forgiving shade. A bed in the corner made tight enough to make Abby think of how it would get undone.

Ellie took the desk chair and spun it once, then let it settle and watched. Dina sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside her.

“Come here.”

Abby did, like a sleepwalker does as told—body present, mind arriving in lag. The mattress dipped; their thighs met; the inside of Abby’s mouth went sweet with nerves. Dina touched nothing for a beat, just looked at her the way you might look at something you’ve decided to keep and are checking for how to care for.

Then she leaned in and kissed her, and everything but breath went quiet.

Dina kissed like she trusted the answer would be yes. Not forceful—assured. Lips soft and parted, a low sound in her throat that Abby felt in the muscles along her spine. Abby’s hands hovered until Dina gathered them and placed them, one by one, on the smooth, warm slope of her shoulders. There, that’s better, the grip said. Abby melted into the shape of being told where to go.

Behind her came the whisper of Ellie moving.

The first touch of Ellie’s hands was a shock by temperature alone—cool palms up Abby’s back, slow circles between her shoulder blades as if smoothing a wing that had been bent wrong. Then fingers found her braid, slid in, and the tug drew Abby’s head back with a clean line that opened her throat to Dina’s mouth.

The sound that left her felt foreign and necessary.

Dina smiled against her skin. “That’s a pretty sound.” Then, lazily, to the back of Abby’s neck: “Make her do it again.”

Ellie obliged with teeth where the shoulder gives, and Abby’s voice answered without her consent. Ellie made a pleased noise and pressed closer, the firm line of her body along Abby’s back like an argument she’d already won. Abby felt surrounded in the best way, like the edges of her had been found and traced and were being kept from fraying.

“Can I?” Dina asked, and her fingers tugged at Abby’s shirt just enough that the question landed where it should. 

She knew what people expected of her. She’d been built into it. Broad shoulders, arms that could flip a scrum, back that looked like it could hold weight. She’d learned to give the script until it felt like truth: rough hands, hard rhythm, good girl said through gritted teeth. She liked some of it. She liked the parts that were about care. But the wanting that lived lowest in her didn’t translate to performance. It wanted to be steadied. It wanted to be placed.

Dina seemed to know.

Abby managed a nod and something like a word.

“Good,” Dina murmured, and the word went where it was told to go, past muscle and into something that had waited years to be named.

They undressed her like it was nothing, and that was what made it unbearable.

Dina tugging her jeans down, Ellie pulling her shirt over her head, their hands brushing against her bare skin as though she wasn’t trembling under them. Ellie unclasped her bra in one clean movement, straps sliding down her arms, leaving her breasts bared under the glow of string lights. Dina’s fingers caught in the waistband of her boxers, dragging them down slow, exposing her inch by inch until the air felt sharp where it touched her.

Abby wanted to cover herself, fold in, apologize for being too much and too naked under their eyes. But Dina looked up once as the fabric slid past her thighs, her expression warm and sure, and Abby forced herself to keep still, to let them see.

When she was bare, they undressed too.

Dina rose, slipping her dress over her head with a smooth sweep, hair falling heavy around her shoulders. She folded the fabric neatly, setting it on the chair by the desk. That small care hit Abby harder than spectacle—it told her that what was taken off here could be picked up again. Ellie peeled her own shirt away, kicked her jeans to the floor. The sight of her in only thin boxers made Abby’s mouth go dry: pale skin stretched taut over lean muscle, dark hair visible where the fabric clung low.

Abby lay back when Dina pressed at her shoulders, the mattress dipping under her weight. Ellie knelt beside her on the bed, thighs slightly spread, watching. Abby turned her head, caught on the sight—the sharp ridges of Ellie’s hip bones, the flush at her chest, the hard peaks of her nipples under the string lights. She felt exposed, wrecked already, just from being looked at by both of them.

Dina settled between her thighs, palms pressing her legs open with quiet authority. Abby’s stomach flipped, heat rushing low. She managed a breath before Dina leaned down.

The first drag of her tongue against Abby’s clit made her whole body jolt.

A broken sound left her throat. Her hips bucked off the bed, but Dina’s hands pressed them firmly back down, steady, unyielding.

Above, Ellie reached out, caught her braid, tugged her head back so her throat arched against the pillow. Abby gasped at the exposure, helpless under it. Dina’s mouth was merciless in its rhythm—lapping, circling, sealing over her with suction so precise it made Abby’s chest clench.

Ellie leaned over, pinched one nipple hard enough to sting. Abby cried out, the sound swallowed as Ellie kissed her, tongue demanding, teeth catching her lip.

“Loud girl,” Ellie murmured against her mouth. “Bet you like being loud.”

Dina’s tongue pressed harder, fingers sliding inside her in the same moment, curling perfectly. Abby sobbed, torn between the hot mouth below and Ellie’s teasing grip above.

“Good girl,” Dina said between strokes, voice low and even, her breath warm against Abby’s skin. “That’s it. Let me have it.”

Abby’s chest squeezed at the words. Good girl. Said like truth, not like performance. She clutched at the sheets, every nerve begging her to fall apart right there.

Then Ellie caught her wrist, dragged it down, forcing her palm against her thigh.

“Touch me,” she said, blunt, low.

Abby’s fingers brushed soft skin, damp heat, the soft hair under the edge of Ellie’s boxers. Ellie hissed, shoved her own waistband down and off in one quick movement, baring herself. Pale thighs, swollen cunt, glistening under the low light. Abby swallowed hard, fingers trembling as Ellie pressed them where she needed.

She was slick, hot, already desperate. Abby stroked once, tentative. Ellie groaned, hips jerking forward.

“God,” Ellie gasped, grinding against her hand, “fuck—you’re strong, use it—”

Abby’s pulse pounded. She moved faster, fingers sliding deep, thumb circling clit. Ellie cried out, clutching Abby’s wrist, riding her hand with sharp little thrusts. Dina moaned at the sight, mouth wet on Abby’s clit, and Abby nearly lost herself to it.

She was giving both of them—her body split, her strength channeled, her mouth open on helpless sounds. For the first time in her life she was using herself the way she wanted: not for control, not for performance, but for giving, for holding, for keeping them in rhythm until they broke.

Ellie was close already, too needy, hips jerking against her fingers. Abby could feel it, the tremor in her thighs, the sharp catch of her breath. Excitement surged in Abby’s chest—fierce, hungry, protective. She wanted to be the one to hold Ellie through it, to take it from her.

Abby pulled her hand away suddenly.

Ellie gasped, eyes wide.

Abby’s voice came out low, certain. “Sit on my face.”

Ellie froze, breath caught, then scrambled over her without hesitation. She straddled Abby’s head, thighs bracketing her ears, cunt pressing down greedy and wet against her mouth.

Abby groaned, the weight of her, the taste of her. She grabbed Ellie’s ass with both hands, strong grip pulling her down harder, opening her with her tongue. Ellie cried out, hips rolling against her mouth, hands fisting in her hair.

“Fuck,” Ellie gasped, looking down at her, face flushed, nipples peaked hard, breath ragged. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Abby couldn’t see Dina anymore, but she could feel her—fingers driving into her deeper now, curling, her mouth still relentless on her clit. Abby bucked against it, sobbing into Ellie’s cunt, tongue merciless, desperate.

Dina groaned low, clearly turned on by the sight, and the sound made Abby’s hips jerk. She was drowning, but she wanted to. Ellie’s thighs trembled around her face, squeezing, pressing down hard, demanding.

Abby gave everything. Her tongue worked steady, her hands held Ellie’s ass firm, keeping her right there, grinding against her mouth. Dina’s fingers pushed deeper, her mouth relentless, dragging Abby closer and closer to the edge.

“Good girl,” Dina said again, muffled against her. “Take it. Just like that.”

Ellie’s cries sharpened into ragged words. “Fuck—Abby, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop—”

Her orgasm hit hard, tearing through her, clenching around Dina’s fingers, body bucking helplessly. She cried out into Ellie’s cunt, voice lost under her, hips jerking against Dina’s tongue. But she didn’t stop. She kept her mouth moving, desperate, until Ellie’s whole body shuddered above her, grinding down against her tongue, crying out sharp and broken as she came.

Ellie collapsed to the side, boneless, panting, sweat-damp hair stuck to her forehead. Abby gasped for breath, face wet, body trembling, every nerve fried.

Dina crawled up her body, mouth flushed, eyes dark. She kissed her deep, licking Ellie’s taste from her lips.

“I can taste her on you,” Dina whispered, low, before kissing her again.

Ellie draped an arm across Abby’s stomach, still trembling. Dina’s head lowered to rest on her shoulder. The room smelled like sweat and salt and heat. Abby lay in the middle of it, chest heaving.

This, historically, was where the script in Abby went to work. Say something breezy, say you should go, say you’ll text, stand up, put your hands somewhere they won’t shake.

The script tried. Dina short-circuited it without effort. She reached for Abby’s hand and brought it down, unhurried, past the ordinary places hands go when they don’t know what else to do, to the place that answered softly with heat. Not a spectacle. A placement. The final coordinate.

“Feel,” Dina said. Low, calm, as if she’d been saying it all night in different ways.

Dina caught her wrist, dragged it down, pressed Abby’s fingers against the soaked heat of her underwear. Abby moaned at how wet she was, fabric clinging, obscene. Dina rolled her hips once, deliberate, then drew Abby’s hand back up and placed it on her hip, curling against her side.

Ellie tipped her chin up from Abby’s arm and looked at her like dawn looks at a room. “Still with us?”

“Yeah,” Abby said. It came out rough. It also came out sure.

Dina laced their fingers and squeezed once. “Good.”

They lay there in the boring miracle of after.

The mini-fridge hummed valiantly in the corner. The string lights made small coins across the ceiling, and if Abby unfocused she could connect them into a pattern that looked like a triangle whose center glowed.

She thought about morning—the clumsy hellos, the problem of texts, how her mouth might fail at the cafeteria coffee machine. She thought about the life outside this room that required her to be very good at force. She thought about the collar glinting at Ellie’s throat and the line it drew down into the body of the night, and how not once had she felt like a trespasser.

“Text us tomorrow,” Ellie said into her arm. Not a demand. Logistics spoken like intimacy.

“I will,” Abby said, and meant it without having to rehearse the tone.

“Tonight,” Dina added, voice gone syrupy with sleep, “just stay.”

Abby let all the small muscles that keep a person upright unclench. 

She stayed. 

The building did not fall. The quiet that came wasn’t the brittle kind that follows bracing. It was domestic. It had the weight of a hand at the back of her neck and the shape of yes. It was the quiet of doors unlocked and someone home.

She breathed and felt the breath travel through the new map of her. Ellie’s hand drummed twice against her wrist, a code that Abby didn’t know five hours ago and now could read without thinking: I’m here. Dina’s thumb stroked once along the life line in her palm like memorizing a path.

Abby closed her eyes. Something in her that had stood for years without relief sat down at last, and found not collapse but furniture. The night gathered itself around the three of them and held.

When she slept, it was like the floor of a boat held under a slow, friendly current—not the terror of wake, not the bite of impact. And in the dark water between waking and whatever came next, a steady voice echoed soft and certain in the very center of her:

good girl, stay.

She did.

[gardengnosticator]

with apologies to @yokedtablet for drabbling this mental image you project onto me here

abby bent over, dina pressed up against her back, one hand between her shoulder blades and the other between her legs.

ellie stands in front of abby, cupping her cheeks and watching in glee as abby’s pouted lips gape apart in fucked out glee, she runs a thumb over her bottom lip and without question abby takes it into her mouth and sucks.

ellie chuckles and dina breathlessly laughs as she pushes on abby’s upper back hard enough to really force her head forward.

“think our girl is enjoying herself, don’t you dina?” ellie hums, making note of how abby’s cheeks hollowed out as she bobbed her head up and down over her now soaked thumb.

dina curls her fingers just right, hilting her hand with palm flush against abby’s hips with such force abby has no recourse aside from choking down a squeal of pleasure.

“yeah ellie, i think our girl is having the time of her life down there.” dina huffs, pressing a far too gentle for the circumstances kiss to abby’s flushed cheek.

if abby’s lips weren’t currently wrapped tight around ellie’s digit she would nod, but with the way her arousal is pooling rings over dina’s fingers and how her chin is soaked with her own spit, she thinks the two women will catch on.

[gardengnosticator]

abby who months after breaking up with owen finally decides she wants to dress up fancy and go out for the night and is immediately cornered by ellie and dina with their “we love your nervous energy, you into women by any chance?” and the night ends and the next day begins with abby waking up being spooned by the two of them and very very sore hips

[tacticaljorts]

more ellabs wrestling, this time with dina in the mix. from me and @gardengnosticator

wc: 2.9k

dina sits crosslegged at the edge of her bed. ellie and abby are already naked. ellie's a little bit uncertain about that part, but abby's dead serious about it, because this is how the ancient greeks would guarantee a fair fight—no weapons, no tricks.

dina doesn't mind, not one bit. she just shrugs, tells ellie she likes a bit of skin-on-skin. ellie's torn between her shame and the desire to please, which always wins out. and dina's looking at her with such expectant eyes. how can she say no?

and before ellie has a chance to argue, abby's already going for the tackle.

dina watches, trying not to giggle at the scene unfolding in front of her. she has to take this just as seriously as they are, because there's a prize at the end of the tunnel.

she expects a play fight, but abby has one direction: wrestle, flip, pin, submit. but ellie is lean and speedy, and she's never played by the rules.

she knows abby's patterns too well by now, has memorized a few of her moves and the tells when abby's going for them, and will absolutely find a way to interrupt her. she goes for the throat—leaning into abby's guard and just dragging her tongue over abby's neck while abby tries fruitlessly to remember how to pull a kimura from here.

ellie's hands grip and wander over bare skin where they shouldn't. both of them are panting, abby close to having ellie pinned, and ellie just lets out a throaty little laugh. "good fucking dog. really giving it your all, huh?"

abby looks up at dina. this isn't how it was supposed to go. she has the physical advantage, and she's sweating more than she should be. this should be an easy win, but ellie is playing dirty.

dina just shrugs and smiles. "oh, I'm not going to help you. you wanted to fight, so fight it out."

it's that split second of surprise, of flush to abby's skin, that ellie uses to her advantage.

abby's used to being under pressure, but ellie is riding into her guard so hard every single thrust of her hips is making her groan and gasp and lose her grip.

but dina, dina wants some fight, wants her pups to put on a show. so she makes a very very obvious show of leaning back, spreading her legs, and letting a hand come to rest between them, and that makes abby howl as she bridges up and sweeps ellie onto the floor.

ellie gets her head right into abby's chest, hands grabbing at those wide shoulders to try to rein her in. and once she's close enough, she tongues over one of abby's nipples, sucking it into her mouth, pulling back ever so teasingly until abby squeals.

abby has caught onto the new rules now, shamefully slow, and she admonishes herself for taking so long even if the assault on her chest makes it hard to think. she's whining trying to get ellie into a cradle, but every time she shifts her bodyweight, ellie just grinds up into her—and abby, abby has to grind back. panting, whining, body shaking, only for ellie to pull back enough to tell her how pathetic she looks. abby's legs give out, and she's just running on upper body strength while leaking down her thighs.

dina just admires the two of them, how beautiful it is to see all that tense muscle flexing, sweat running over skin, and abby, with all that strength and power, starting to lose the advantage.

maybe she's a little bit biased today. maybe she just wants to see what it'll take to tip her over the edge. she runs a gentle hand over abby's shoulder, and abby startles and shudders. just from that, oh so sensitive to her touch.

abby doesn't know who to focus on—their words are pooling into liquid filth as she sits smack back between ellie's legs, still happily wrapped around her waist and grinding into abby without a moment's hesitation.

ellie can feel it too, knows she's in a precarious position like this, but abby's movements are getting more sluggish, her jaw more slack, hands not trying to find an opening to push her position but merely looking for something to cling onto for dear life.

dina's all velvet and honey, telling abby she's so strong, that she always puts on a good show for her. and ellie has a hand out to grab abby's chin to hold her up and force her to pout while she cuts deep, telling abby she's so weak like this, so pathetic, nothing more than a horny dog.

abby nods her head, to dina and to ellie, because both of them are right.

abby just can't think or fight anymore, even though her body is still going through the motions. it's muscle memory and strength—she's not letting ellie go or surrendering, but every ounce of fight has left her.

dina can see it—abby's like putty right now. soft to touch and oh so easy to shape into whatever she and ellie want. and abby is happy to give, happy to let go and just sink into this void of pleasure. sink deeper into ellie's body as she listens to her sharp tongue cut her apart for how desperate and pathetic she's being. sink deeper into the warmth of dina's praise, her lips gracing that beautiful expanse of abby's sweat-soaked back.

there was a plan—whoever won would get to fuck the loser. but dina's having too much fun with abby, and knows exactly what it'll take to undo her. like when she whispers against abby's shoulder that she wants her to fuck ellie with her fingers, slowly, gently, taking very good care of her girl.

"so selfish, baby, taking all this pleasure for yourself? come on, abby, be nice. ellie needs some attention too." her voice is hypnotic. she could tell abby to jump off a cliff and abby would be nodding just as hard.

she's clumsy, using every ounce of her remaining strength to move back and slot between her and ellie's hips and drag her fingers over ellie's cunt.

she's soaked. abby's pupils blow wide as she takes stock of how turned on ellie is, fingers rolling back and forth over her before coming up to rub sloppy circles against her clit. abby's just blabbering at this point, asking ellie if she's doing okay, if she's doing this right.

ellie tries to bite back a moan, and dina tells ellie to be good and use her words.

ellie tries. she really does. but her voice falters when abby sinks two fingers into her.

and this, this makes abby fall apart than her own pleasure. feeling ellie's warmth around her, how she envelops her fingers so easily. and she's just fucking gone, because that alone feels so good, and when ellie starts making breathy little sounds, abby loses her rhythm, starts to moan like she's the one getting fucked.

either way, dina gets to see both of them fall apart. abby's gone first, clearly, and ellie's close behind, fighting hard to keep it together, to clench her teeth, to take what abby gives her without giving her the satisfaction she wants. she's not doing a very good job of it when abby stretches her open, finds that swollen spot inside her. she's fighting hard to stay with it, to keep her eyes on dina and listen to her voice, because that's her only anchor anymore.

dina drapes over abby's back like it's nothing, trailing kisses up and down abby's cheek, all the while staring right down at ellie's perfectly strained face. her two girls are so beautiful for her, their moans mixing alongside the wet sound of abby's fingers rolling in and out of ellie's cunt.

dina reminds both of them, ever so gently, about the rules. that neither of them come until she wants them to. and ellie's nodding and trying even though she's so close, and abby isn't slowing down to give her a break—she couldn't if she tried. and abby, she could probably cum just from the feeling of ellie clenched around her and the sound of dina's voice. they're both trying so so hard for her.

and she can read them both so well. she can see the way ellie's face scrunches, the way her abs tighten, the sharp, quick sounds spilling out of her that means she's reaching the brink of her ability to hold back. dina's voice just cuts through it all. "ellie. not yet."

dina doesn't even have to touch either of them for them to know that this is about dina. right now, their bodies and their orgasms are for dina and they're going to try their best to follow her orders. she gives them so much, the least they can do is hold on as possible, even as abbys fingers curl inside ellie, the base of her palm grinding down hard into her clit while ellie fights every instinct she has to chase the building tension in her gut.

when dina's knealt at ellie's side, she can tell exactly what she needs. she leans close, whispering to ellie to go ahead, to soak abby's palm, to squirt all over her.

ellie can't even speak. she just nods, nods so hard that her head might fall off, and dina just giggles. ellie's legs part wide, her eyes shut tight, and she gushes right into abby's hand.

abby dives in to kiss ellie. it's a primal thing, purely a reaction to seeing that perfect scrunched up face. how can she stop herself?

dina does, grabbing that braid just in time to keep abby at bay. abby doesn't get that kind of softness yet, not when she's got a job to do. not when she's got ellie this close and this fucked out and so perfect for dina.

abby is going to whine, but dina just gives her neck a little bite to show her who is in control and then leans up to whisper into abby's ear that good pups are patient. abby has to be good for her. abby moans that she is good, she's always good for dina, even if she's barely hanging on.

ellie, poor sweet ellie, is just limp as abby continues to fuck her deep with her fingers, the harsh wet slap of skin against skin mixing with the smell of sex and sweat in the room.

when ellie can't give anything more, that's when dina finally gives her permission. not to ellie, but whispered into abby's ear so that only she can hear. "make her cum. you can do that for me, can't you? make her cum all over your fingers and maybe you'll get what you want."

dina knows just the right words to make abby snap back into action. she lets out a big animalistic—no, predatory—grunt as she doubles over, forehead pressing right into ellie's so she can stare at that perfect beautiful fucked out face as abby chases her right over that cliff, right into abby's palm and right before dina's watchful gaze. ellie cums, toes curling, knees buckling, lips split into a perfect little o shape, while abby chants for her to cum ellie cum please dina wants this i want this please—

there's nothing ellie can do to stop it, just lets herself be carried through it. abby does kiss her then, maybe that's the reward she gets for taking such good care of ellie, and dina doesn't stop her this time, because it's too messy and animalistic for it to be sweet anymore. abby just continues to fuck her until ellie's yelping and squirming away because it's way too much. and dina lets her for a minute before she stops abby, wants both her girls exhausted, drained, pushed past what they can handle.

abby collapses, kissing down elie's neck, so hungry and needy. the sound and of ellie's orgasm have her feral, chasing her own need somewhere in ellie's skin, even though she's not getting herself any closer. dina finally has to pull her out of it and rescue poor ellie with a tug on her hair to remind her who she belongs to.

ellie looks so perfect and so wrecked, freckled face slack while her chest heaves. but dina can tell there's still some of that flame left, that ellie still has more to give.

"you think you're done?" she asks, not really a question. "you won. you're going to fuck her."

abby literally hasn't gotten off the floor. the shame of her loss melted away by the relief of what shes going to receive. she's already bent over and presenting. even if ellie can barely stand, the mere presence of the harness against her causing her to double over from how sensitive she is, she just can't say no to dina. can't say no to what she sees in front of her: abby on all fours, head in her arms, panting and grinding at the air, just begging for her punishment, her arousal so obvious that it glistens over the muscles of her thighs.

dina's hands rove over the small of abby's back, down to her ass, groping, squeezing, spreading the poor girl for ellie to gawk at. dina just smirks, asks if shes going to be happy just watching.

ellie swallows her heart back into her chest and sinks to her knees. she presses the tip of the strap flush to abby's cunt. abby tries to buck backwards, but dina stops her, tells her to behave and stay still. then, without taking her eyes off abby's face, tells ellie to thrust, and ellie does.

she hilts herself flush with abby and the two women just fucking gasp in pleasure.

dina tells her how to fuck abby: slow at first, drawing it out until abby's nails are clawing at the carpet and she's trying so hard not to thrust her hips back onto ellie's strap. so torturously slow that even ellie can't stand it, and she's so fucking relieved when dina tells her to go harder, faster, until ellie's thighs are burning and abby is actually pulling away from all the sensation because it's too much too fast.

then she tells allie to stroke abby's clit, because it's so swollen and needy at this point, just begging for attention. when ellie touches it abby actually cries out with an almost painful intensity, and yet she's open and dripping and all she can do is take everything ellie gives her and hold on for dear life.

dina watches in awe of the two of them, how obedient they are for her, how willing they are to push beyond what either of them can really take just to please her. it's such a beautiful fucking sight. she cups abby's face in her palm and looks at those needy, tear-filled puppy eyes, those pouty lips, the tension in her forehead from holding back so long, and ask if she deserves it, if abby deserves to come for her.

abby can't speak. dogs don't speak, do they? she remembers that much. she just whines, nods her head, yelps and bucks herself right back into ellie with growing force as she feels herself getting closer and closer. she feels like a rope pulled too tight and she's about to snap in half.

all dina has to do is lean forward and kiss those perfect pouted lips and tell her to come for her.

abby wails, fingers digging into the carpet as her whole body shakes with the force of the orgasm ripping through her. she keeps fucking herself back onto ellie's strap as long as she can stand it, knowing ellie is doing her best to make dina proud, wanting to break ellie at the same time. for ellie, it's a stuttering, trembling of her hips as she slumps over abby's back, spent.

dina's so kind to them in the end. so generous to her two sweet girls who try so, so hard for her. not complaining, not fighting or grumbling, but totally hers. especially abby—dina loves seeing her so soft after breaking down all those walls and defenses. the physical toughness gives way, and dina can't think of her but anything other than her sweet, obedient puppy.

abby's just left with this feeling, the absolute warmth and daze and almost nothingness inside her. it's just blissful, and she feels so held by both of them. the only two who can see her like this.

ellie and dina give her nothing but praise. ellie's is tinged with a warm sarcasm, but there's no bite to it. "our big strong abby did so good for us," ellie teases.

and dina knows abby's coming out of it when she starts snarking back, "like you held it together so we'll yourself."

the balance is restored eventually, the push and pull between them, but the warmth just lingers for the evening, as long as the three of them will hold onto it.

----

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