summary: pervy nerd!ellie is really needy for you as she invited you to her room for the first time, and good thing you are just as needy.
dom!ellie, sub!femreader, fingering!
it’s noon when you check the notification from your phone, your body glued to the sheets of your uninteresting room. you see a text from Ellie, your newly girlfriend who’s always texting you about something random. this time it’s an invite, begging for you to come over, smiling to yourself reading each word.
while getting ready, your eyes meet with the lonely push up bra sitting on your comfy desk chair. you decide to put it on, with of course perverted intentions.
after a rushed twenty minutes spent on makeup and hair, you feel like you might be ready to go as you stare at yourself for the thousandth time, feeling that kind of adrenaline you wish would never die out.
time passes as you enter her room, Ellie’s eyes already glued to the cleavage peeking at her. “uh um… hey”, her body language is awkward, accompanied with the subtle fidgeting of her limbs. clearly affected by your presence, more so your beauty.
“I love your room”, you take in the furniture surrounding you both, posters and trinkets you have no knowledge of. your eyes catch on to the little video game setup by the tv, studying each little detail with interest.
Ellie nervously grabs a random plushie from her pillow, hiding it before you find out, “you wanna sit on the bed with me?” she hastily offers, trying to distract you from your exploration.
“um yeah sure”, you sit next to her on the soft cushion, your hand merely touching hers. you take a peek at Ellie, soft auburn strands framing her flushed face, her expression also empty as her eyes stick to the ground.
“so… tell me about you room, i wanna know you more ellie” your knee nudges hers, subtly begging her, desperate for some kind of conversation. Ellie can clearly sense your persistence, leading to feelings of guilt.
“sorry um, yeah I can show you my uh”, her eyes then trail to all the books about outer space, dinosaur figures, superhero comics, so many nerdy things she refuses to mention out loud, she scratches the back of her neck.
“ellie you know I don’t care right? seriously just talk to me”, you rub her bicep for some sort of comfort, she flinches slightly, her body heating up with every move of your fingertips.
“fine… you wanna ask about my video games first?” her eyes slowly light up as you agree without hesitation, her hand resting against your thigh as she begins to tell you.
as she rambles on about each passion, her hand travels across your body, you begin to shiver when her fingers reach under your long white lace skirt. her touch embellished over the valleys of your soft skin, her fingertips tracing little shapes over your thigh.
your breath hitches as she starts to squeeze, still hearing her ramble on like she isn’t torturing you at the same time.
“Ellie…”, you softly whimper uncontrollably, her eyes immediately turning towards you.
“you ok?” she asks, her face contorted with confusion, so unaware of her actions that it makes you whine out of desperation.
“you keep… touching there, go further.. please” you beg softly, ellie’s hand complies as her fingers crawl closer to your inner thigh, already feeling a little moist from the heat growing inside you.
you feel her touch against your clothed pussy, shaking when she applies more pressure. meanwhile her gaze lives within your cleavage, eager to paint with bruising hickeys.
ellie still takes time to really process what’s going on, all she did was innocently massage your thigh, she guesses you took it as an act of lust. ellie smirks a tiny bit, your mind in a whirlwind of perversity as you feel her fingers creeping your panties off, inserting her long middle finger deep inside.
the foreign feeling of your wet walls swallowing her makes ellie feel dizzy, you cry deep into her sage eyes, whining for more as your folds sob after each hard thrust.
“feels good?” ellie begins to reek of self doubt as she asks, poor ellie, so desperate to please you. her other hand focuses on your clothes, almost every garment fleeting to the wooden floor. you nod rapidly, crying out at the feeling of her ring finger joining in so intrusively.
the sound of your soft pretty moans soothe ellie into a state of inner hunger, blood rushing through her veins as her lust controls her every move. your finger nails bite her freckled skin as she curls her fingers, hitting that spot you’ve never felt before.
your begging words begin to slur, her fingers so deep it makes your soul fully numb. her cute nervous demeanor thrown away at the sight of you like this, all wet and open for her.
the only piece of fabric remaining on your sweaty body was your skimpy push up bra, she tried to pull it off, but was too preoccupied with the squelching sounds of your pussy. her hand only able to pull the cups down, your nipples greeting her as she fixates on them.
your body twitches from her overflowing need for you, her touch engraved around each crevice of skin, it’s all too much. as you climax, you gaze upon her wild pupils, fading into softness slowly.
she holds you by your waist, her arm clung as she kisses you tenderly, thumb rubbing against the soft skin of your torso. eventually you catch your breath, slowly your eye lids open up to her pretty face.
“did I do a good job?, I hope it was because to be honest i didn’t really-“ you kiss her softly to shut her up, only craving to feel her warmth consuming you entirely.
꒰ ౨ৎ ꒱ nerd!els rewards you 4 studying ৎ୭ 0.3k wc pure fluff els is sweeeet (and a loser)
"Is it over now?" you ask for the nth time, lounging on the table. Your notebook makes a nice pillow.
"We've just started," she dismisses, sparing a quick glance at the clock resting on the wall. "It's been half an hour," she adds with a snicker.
You whine, shaking your head and refusing to look up. On most occasions, Ellie doesn't make your homework any more enjoyable— worse yet, it's even harder to concentrate as she's right in front of you, resembling the living portrait of what heaven must seem like when its entry is denied.
She shifts closer, thigh grazing yours— your bare legs feel the rough denim of her jeans, and you draw nigher to get more of her warmth. "If you do well, I'll reward you, yeah?" She proposes gently, feeling your frustration. She then smooths her hand over your thigh in leisured, circular motions.
"What kind of reward?" You wonder, gazing upon her with interest. She smiles, showcasing her dimples, and you are instantly absorbed in the sight of her— every plateau, valley and depression of her face is majestic, each freckle plays a minuscule role— small stars contributing to the immense universe that she is. Her hair is tied back in a messy half up, a stray lock hindering her vision. You sweep the thin strand behind her ear, caressing the smooth skin of her cheek. It turns rosy.
"I will give you two kisses after you understand the first topic, 'kay?" She reassures. "The number of kisses will exponentially increase by-"
"Please, stop." you chortle in exasperation. "I get it, you will kiss me. Okay. Don't math us," you protest, bumping your shoulder with hers.
Studying results way easier than expected. Looking forward to the moment you would receive her attention substantially increased your productivity— in less than an hour, you managed to get up to date with the things you should've learnt weeks ago— it usually took you way longer. It's impressive.
"Good job, angel," she rasps out against your lips before kissing you. Once. Twice. Three times. Each peck is immediately followed the next, frolicsome and sweet. They land in the corner of your mouth, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and mostly your lips.
Longing for intensity, you hold her by the nape of her neck and draw her near yourself, kissing her deeply—she returns it with equal fervor, and just as great flusteredness. Her hands are clammy, almost inconspicuously, as she places them on your waist. Cute.
To put it plainly, Ellie Williams was a complete and total loser. Obsessed with Spider-Man, hopelessly devoted to dinosaurs, weirdly good at soccer, armed with nerd-like brain power and somehow still failing biology. Why? Because you sat three rows in front of her.
Everyone on campus knew your name. How could they not? You glided through the halls in kitten heels and lacy bras that pushed your boobs together in a way that made Ellie foam at the mouth. Of course, you had never even spoken to the girl, but you did notice the way her demeanor shifted around you.
You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little entertaining. Watching her squirm, watching her pretend you didn’t exist when you clearly did. Still, you never gave her much thought. She was just another face in the crowd.
That is, until the two of you were paired together for an extra credit project.
And suddenly, what had always been a one-sided fixation began to shift into something messier. Something unexpected.
Because you were the pretty girl. You had the perfect boyfriend, the perfect life. There was no universe where you’d fall for a loser like Ellie Williams… right?
rating: 18+
status: ongoing
- cheating, smut, reader's lowky a bully, i'll add more as i continue to write
pairing: loser!ellie x meangirl!reader (my absolute favorite :)
a/n: yes ellie does have glasses in the story i just couldn't find a good photo of her with glasses just in case anyone was wondering💀. also once i finish this series ill be posting it on ao3 and maybe wattpad so if you'd rather read it on there dw :)
also, what inspired me to write this was @boricuasirena25 's Nerd!ellie x popular reader headcanons and oneshots so a huge shoutout to her and definitly go check out her page and her works cuz they are soososoos good.
Being the CIA's top cybersecurity software analyst had its perks - and for Ellie, that was tapping into her beautiful neighbor's old security cameras that nobody knew were still live. A little people watching never hurt.
Keyboards clacked throughout the building; the soft chatter and hum of coworkers blended into the office sounds. Late-afternoon phone ringing, the annoying-ass microwave in the break room that never shut up, email notifications, and the sound of fresh code. It all combined into a frequency that Ellie’s ears learned to filter out.
Her back hurt; hell, everything of Ellie’s ached. What they didn’t tell you about working with technology all day was the strain it put on your posture—eyes too. Code had been engraved into her brain over the years, but it had also been long enough to burn into her corneas.
Not only was she sore, but she was also exhausted. She swore the screen had grown since she’d been oggling at it, staring at the computer screen. It blinked back at her, the cursor probably judging the dark circles under her eyes, the slightly frazzled hair she didn't have time to comb through that morning.
A voice jolted her from the half-asleep zombie state she’d fallen into.
“Williams!” Heels clicked against the marble with authority.
Ellie straightened too fast, wincing at the protest in her spine. Her boss stood beside her desk, arms folded—not angry. Maybe a mix of disappointment and concern. Which, arguably, was worse. Chief Cage, the five-foot-seven resting bitch-face of a woman, stood tall, enough so that Ellie had to tilt her head up to catch a glance.
Blazer had one button undone today, but she still looked put together in that effortless, government-issued way. Blonde hair, kept slicked into a tight bun and disciplined. A sharp, deliberate set to her jaw. The kind of blue eyes that had years of experience behind them. They didn’t miss, didn’t forgive much either.
She shifted her weight slightly, one hand resting on the back of Ellie’s chair instead of crossing her arms. A small tell. Less confrontation than usual.
“I was under the impression this was priority.”
“It is,” Ellie replied automatically.
“Because when I’m asked for progress, and I give them ‘she’s close,’ I prefer that to be true.” The screen reflected faintly against the lenses of her glasses. Cat Eye, sleek. She glanced at the unchanged build.
“We’re still sitting on yesterday’s version.”
Ellie nodded once, already tapping at keys to make it look less damning. “Just refining.”
“Refining,” she repeated evenly.
“Mm-hm,” she replied, nodding as she stared ahead at the computer. Her eyes drifted to her phone—it sat neatly on the table, taunting her with the promise of you. The camera software she downloaded, one she didn't dare look at around her coworkers.
Cage’s gaze flicked to her for a second longer than necessary—taking in the shadows under her eyes, the slight delay in her responses.
“You’re one of my best analysts,” she said quietly. “But lately? I’m defending potential instead of results. And while I don’t need your brilliance, Williams, I at least need your consistency. Preferably before higher-ups begin asking me why I’m extending deadlines.”
“Right.” The auburnette nodded, “Yeah. Won’t happen again.”
“If something’s dividing your attention,” she continued, voice lower now, “handle it. I don’t want to have to start reallocating assignments because you’re… stretched thin.”
Ellie nodded again. “Won’t happen.”
Her jaw tightened firmly.
“I know what you’re capable of, Williams. That’s why I haven’t moved this yet.” A beat. “Don’t make me regret that.”
Chief stood up straight, posture pulling fully into command mode again.
“And get me something I can show upstairs before end of day.”
Then she was gone.
Ellie turned off the ignition, the engine ticking and wheezing as it cooled, metal settling like it was exhaling after a long day. The quiet that followed rang in her ears. She sagged back into the seat for a beat to feel her spine decompress. Her hand reached up automatically, flipping down the overhead mirror. She slid the cover aside. The plastic snapped open with a sharp click.
Jesus.
Her hair was a mess—loose strands stuck to her temple with dried sweat. Her under-eyes were bruised-looking, faint purple shadows sinking into her pale skin, and her eyes seemed… dimmer. She leaned closer to the glass, squinting. Was that scientifically possible? Could eyes lose their glow?
A car door slammed somewhere ahead, the sound cracking through the still air and vibrating faintly through her windows. Ellie blinked, distracted, gaze drifting past her own reflection—
—and landing on you.
The world seemed to refocus. Her world, more specifically.
You were a little windblown, grocery bag hooked in the crook of your arm, the thin paper crinkling dangerously under the weight. Your purse was slung loosely around your arm, phone clutched tightly in your hand like it was absorbing whatever stress you carried.
“No, Abby, that’s not what I said—”
Your voice carried across the lot, sharp and low at the same time, like you were trying not to make a scene but couldn’t quite keep the heat from seeping out. You paced a half step, then stopped yourself, jaw tightening. The crease between your brows hadn’t been there this morning.
Familiarity settled in Ellie’s chest anyway. The cadence of your voice. The way you tucked your chin when you were frustrated. The stubborn set of your stance when you felt cornered.
The seatbelt snapped back with a thwip as she unbuckled it, fumbling slightly in her rush. She pushed the door open, stepping out into the sunlight. Heat kissed her skin instantly, warming her cheeks, her arms. The breeze caught her hair at the nape of her neck, tugging loose strands free and brushing them across her lips.
She laughed under her breath and tried to tame it with her fingers. It was pointless. Her hands were still shaky from the long day.
God, she felt stupidly giddy.
Like a teenager. Not just dead-eyed in a mirror thirty seconds ago. You did that to her; you were her revival, her espresso.
You adjusted the grocery bag against your hip and started up the apartment steps. The building cast long shadows now, the light slanting sideways, catching in your hair.
“Look, all I’m asking is that you come over tonight—“ Your voice echoed against the metal of the stairs, tense and exasperated, “—I don’t care how late. I just want to see you.”
Ellie was halfway across the lot when she realized you weren’t slowing down.
“Hey—” she called lightly, jogging the last stretch, soles scuffing against pavement. She took the stairs two at a time to catch up, breath puffing out in a soft laugh. “You planning on outrunning me or what?”
She kept her tone easy. Friendly. The smile she mastered that showed teeth but not nerves. You didn’t smile back, just glanced at her over your shoulder, and ended the phone call.
You turned back to the steps, returning to the climb. Guarded. “Hi, Ellie.”
That did something small and unpleasant to her stomach.
She slowed behind you, then moved up alongside as you reached the first landing. The air up there felt different—less breeze with more heat trapped against the stucco walls.
“I was gonna text you,” she chirped, hands slipping into her pockets like she was just casually there, totally not rehearsing lines in her head. “Thought maybe we could maybe grab dinner. Or coffee—” she tilted her head, gently playful, “You need help?”
It typically worked on you, loosened your shoulders, and gave Ellie some points, but you adjusted it tighter against your side, fumbling with your keys as you climbed the second set of stairs. The sound of the silver reverberated against the walls, mixing with your breath and the crinkling of the bag.
“I’ve got it, thanks though.” Your tone was flat. Preoccupied and bothered.
Ellie’s grin faltered for half a second before she recovered. “Right. Yeah. Of course you do.” She let out a soft huff of a laugh, stepping up beside you at the top. “Still. We could hang out. If you wanted—or I could just bring something here.”
You stopped at your door.
The key didn’t go in right away. You stared at the lock instead, the set swinging in your hands idly.
Ellie’s heart started doing that quick, hopeful thing again, anticipation buzzing under her skin. She read the room, but couldn’t help but offer dinner or some sort of opportunity that granted her wiggle room. She leaned one shoulder against the railing, trying to look relaxed.
She told herself she wasn’t pushing. She wasn’t like that. She didn’t corner people. Didn’t maneuver them into things they didn’t want like Abby did.
She just… knew when to lean in. And when to step back, especially with you.
“You don’t have to decide right now,” she added lightly, tossing her hand out haphazardly in a shrug motion, like it hadn’t mattered in the first place. As though she hadn’t jogged across the sidewalk with her pulse in her throat. “I just figured… You sounded like you could use a break.”
You exhaled through your nose. Not exactly annoyed.
“Tough day?” she tried again, softer now. Seeing her opening. She adjusted her stance, angling her body slightly away instead of toward you—giving space without making a show of it. You were like wired headphones, knotted up after hours of tumbling. But patience, enough detangling with nimble fingers eventually loosened the knot that held it all together. Only then could Ellie listen to her favorite music.
The key finally slid into the lock.
You didn’t look at her when you spoke. “It’s just… a lot.”
Knot loosened.
Ellie nodded once. Understanding. She understood you so much she could almost see the calculus happening behind your eyes—Abby, the phone call, the groceries digging into your arm, the fact that Ellie was standing with that hopeful half-smile she always wore, and it didn’t cost her anything.
She didn’t let the smile slip. Not yet.
“Another time,” you said, and it came out soft. Almost careful. “Maybe we can do dinner another time. As friends.”
As friends.
There it was. A line drawn so lightly, most people would pretend not to see it.
Ellie saw it. Her jaw tightened for the smallest fraction of a second—gone before it could register. But to you, she was most people. So she, too, pretended not to see it. She gave a small shrug instead.
“Yeah,” like that had been the plan all along. “Another time. You’ve got my number.”
The corners of your mouth lifted, relieved.
“I do.”
She pushed off the railing, already retreating to the side for her own door. “Text me if you need help carrying round two.”
You huffed a quiet, genuine laugh at that.
“I will.”
Your door opened. You slipped inside. The door clicked shut.
Ellie’s smile finally dropped.
Her own door shut behind her within the minute, and she felt the mask slip entirely.
Her keys found themselves tossed onto the counter with a jingle, her feet drifting on their own towards her office—her room, she moved her computer in there after dedicating so much time to you—and her body slumping into her chair like routine. Because that’s what it was, routine.
Not only had code become so engraved into her day, her brain, her eyes. But turning on her monitor directly after work, gliding the cursor over to the file in the corner of the screen, and seeing the blue hues—the code, your code—light up with life, had carved its way into her life. Into her heart.
Your apartment, dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, decorative pillows strewn on the floor in your room that you never put back onto the bed, the half-dead plant in your living room that slightly resembled your state of mind. It was yours.
And after hours, days, endless nights of watching you, making sure you were safe, bringing you the things you were too afraid to ask for when you needed them, building the very furniture you reside on after a long day...
cute little painfully nerdy 2000s ellie williams x popular bimbo fem reader part 3
since yall hornballs wanted smut so badly 🙄
cw : smut, public sex in class, degradation, ellie’s horny fantasies, wet dreams, plot twist kinda
the bell rings. you don’t rush to your seat—you never do. you glide in late like always, cherry gum in your mouth, tight hot pink juicy couture velour zip up barley zipped up with your black lacy VS push up bra peeking through. a boy stares. you don’t care. you’re too busy reapplying your gloss with your middle finger.
ellie sees you before you see her, she recognizes your heavy, dreamy scent of the love spell body spray from 5 miles away.
she’s already at her desk, hood up, legs bouncing under the table like she’s got an energy drink in her bloodstream. which, honestly? she probably does. her fingers are smudged with pencil and her notebooks half open, little doodles of swords and boobs peeking through the lined paper. she’s not ready. for anything.
mr. brooks clears his throat.
“alright, students. group projects. DNA replication and genetic variation. pages 94 through 99. picked your partners for you.”
groans ripple across the room. you roll your eyes, zoning out as he goes on to list random pairs of students in the class… “david and rebecca, ashley and karen, adrian and braxton, becky and jared-“ then suddenly.
“y/n and… ellie.”
you look up from your manicured hands in your lap instantly, silence. you make a disgusted look. brows furrowed, lips pouted.
but ellie? she jerks in her seat like someone pulled a string in her back. her eyes snap up and lock on you, wide behind her crooked-ass glasses. her whole face goes red—forehead, ears, even her damn neck. she freezes. then immediately starts fumbling with her the spirals on her notebook, like she thinks if she looks busy enough, maybe you’ll ignore her.
you don’t.
you sigh heavily as you take your time walking over, swinging your hips just enough to make two boys whisper. you drop your bag next to her desk. she looks at it like it’s a bomb.
you sit down.
“so,” you say, voice flat, bored, already annoyed. “you gonna write the whole thing or just f*ck yourself to it?”
she chokes. like physically chokes, hand flying to her chest, eyes bugging out. she tries to answer, fails, tries again, and somehow makes it worse.
“i—i don’t—i wasn’t—f*ck mysel-?—no—what—”
you stare. blow a bubble. let it pop, then giggle in her face.
her face is ruined. her mouth opens and closes like a fish. she looks like she wants to die. and then crawl under the desk. and then die again.
you lean in, just a little, enough for your perfume to hit her nose.
“i still remember that sketchbook from last week by the way.”
ellie flinches.
“i wasn’t—you know.. it’s for anatomy,” she blurts, which makes no sense, and she knows it. “not like, your—i didn’t mean your anatomy, just—like—the concept of anatomy, which, like, technically—f*ck—”
you tilt your head.
ellie covers her face with her hands and groans, long and low, like she’s in pain.
“do you touch yourself to those with your hoodie on, or do you take it off to set the mood?”
“please,” she whispers. “please shut up.”
you giggle again, soft and wicked.
adrian—your adrian—is three rows in front of y’all, hearing the whole thing. you haven’t even acknowledged him since class started either.
ellie peeks through her fingers. she’s twitchy. sweaty. miserable. and when you pull your chair closer, she damn near leaps out of her skin.
“we’re gonna get an A,” you hum, dragging her open textbook toward you. “you’re gonna do all the work. and you’re gonna keep your nasty little sketchbook zipped up tight.”
she nods. small. frail.
“say ‘yes, ma’am.’”
“…yes, ma’am.”
you smile. pop another bubble.
this is gonna be fun.
ellie keeps her eyes locked on the textbook. she hasn’t spoken in five minutes. not since the “yes, ma’am.” her handwriting’s shaking. her cheeks are red. her hoodie sleeves are halfway over her fingers again, clenched tight like she’s praying.
you lean back in your seat, legs spread just a little wider, flipping your hair over your shoulder. her eyes flicker for a second—just a second—to the inside of your thigh under the desk.
you catch it.
“are you even paying attention?” you ask, fake sweet. “or are you too busy trying not to cum in your boxers?”
her pencil snaps in half.
“i’m—i’m paying attention,” she mumbles, head down, the tips of her ears red like she’s been slapped. “mitosis. cell cycle. S-phase. DNA replication. i—i know it.”
you hum. press your knee against hers under the desk. she jerks back like she’s been shocked. you look down at her shaky hand on the table. long, twitchy fingers. drum and guitar callused.
slowly, you reach out. grab her wrist. guide it down.
“wh—what are you—” she tries to pull away, but she’s weak. pathetic. you’re stronger. meaner. so much prettier. you press her hand against your bare thigh, just above the hem of your skirt. warm skin. smooth. soft.
she stops breathing.
“f*ck,” she whispers, wide-eyed, voice cracking. “you—you can’t—i’ll f*cking—”
you don’t let go.
“don’t be a p*ssy,” you murmur, eyes half-lidded. “it’s just a little skin, right? nothing you haven’t seen in your nasty little sketches.”
her fingers twitch.
you push her hand higher. just a little.
the edge of your thong peeks out. she squeezes her eyes shut, like she can block it out. but her fingers stay.
shaking. burning. gripping your thigh like it’s keeping her alive. ellie whimpers.
you smile, slow and wicked and keep her hand right where it is. she doesn’t move at first.
your fingers are still around her wrist, soft but firm, like a leash she doesn’t want to escape. her palm is pressed flat to your thigh, skin burning hot, nails barely grazing you. you’re looking ahead like nothing’s happening. like you’re so fucking bored. like her hand being between your legs is just part of your routine.
ellie’s brain? completely fried. ‘f*ck. f*ck. f*ck’ she thought.
she doesn’t know where to look. her eyes are flicking between the worksheet and your lip gloss and your thigh and the window and the corner of the floor like any of it will help her not lose it.
her face is flushed. her mouth’s dry. her hoodie’s too hot and her fingers are twitching because all she can think about is—
‘she’s soft. she’s so soft. i can’t—f*ck—i can’t.’
you’re right next to her. in the flesh. warm. sighing softly. looking down, pencil in hand while pretending to read the textbook like her hand isn’t right there.
and now?
her fingers start to move.
slow. slight. like she doesn’t even realize at first. like muscle memory. like her horniness has taken over completely.
she slides the tips up, just a little.
then down.
tiny little strokes. featherlight. testing you. seeing what she can get away with.
you shift in your seat.
press your legs together.
you don’t look at her. but you don’t stop her either.
so she keeps going.
and her heart is slamming in her chest.
she’s so wet in her boxers, her clit becoming a rapid beating second heartbeat to the point it’s actually painful. ellie thinks she might cum just from this.
her fingers dip slightly beneath the curve of your thigh. under the edge of your thong. just barely.
her breath stutters.
you’re wet. not soaked. not dripping. just warm and soft and slightly damp and f*ckf*ck—
she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from groaning. her forehead hits the desk. just for a second. to ground herself.
you look at her finally. say nothing. just smirk. and she knows you know exactly what you’re doing.
she doesn’t say a word. she just keeps stroking.
slow, pathetic, desperate.
and no one can see a thing.
yet, her fingers go still when she feels it. the way your c*nt clenches as she pushes past the edge of your soaked thong.
how easy it is to slip in.
how tight you are. how f*cking warm you are.
like you’ve been waiting.
ellie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding—shaky, low—and stares at your face like it’s the only thing that matters.
you’re still looking at your notes. like this is nothing.
like her fingers aren’t buried inside you right now, moving slow, dragging against that soft spot she’s imagined so many times her body could do it with her eyes closed.
and it kinda is.
her fingers start working in that perfect rhythm she’s practiced—on herself, in the dark, in the shower, during her breakdowns after seeing you in a mini skirt.
she curls them just right.
presses deep.
slides out slick and slow, then back in, faster.
you twitch.
your thighs shift.
but you don’t look at her.
and that’s what makes her lose it.
“f*ck,” she whispers. her head is down, lips barely moving. “you’re gonna make me cum in my f*ckin’ boxers, sh*t.”
you don’t flinch. you just turn the page in the textbook, lip caught between your teeth.
ellie’s eyes flicker to your mouth.
her fingers thrust deeper. faster. the sound is obscene but muffled by the low hum of the class, the hum of the lights, the buzz of old ac.
“this p*ssy’s so f*ckin’ warm,” she whispers, voice cracked. “you’re gonna—geez—you’re gonna ruin me.”
you pulse around her. her legs shake.
she’s gritting her teeth. trying not to grunt. trying not to moan.
“can’t believe i get to finger you in bio,” she breathes, nose brushing your shoulder. “you’re so mean to me—so f*ckin’ mean—and you’re so wet. you like this? letting the loser do this to you?”
your pencil scratches across the paper like nothing’s happening.
you’re breathing harder now. lips parted. eyes still down.
but your hips start moving—tiny little rocks forward against her fingers—and that’s when ellie knows you’re close.
she curves them deep, presses her palm against your clit, and starts pumping harder.
you clamp your thighs.
grip the edge of your worksheet.
swallow a whimper.
“good f*ckin’ girl,” she mutters, barely audible. “take it. just take it. i’ll make you cum so hard you won’t walk to 5th period.”
and you?
you turn your head just slightly.
lips brush her ear.
“then do it, perv.”
ellie’s gone. she’s imagined this so many times. in her sketchbook. in the shower. in her f*cking dreams.
you sitting on her lap, whispering in her ear, your lip gloss smearing on her neck, your tits bouncing while you ride her neon green strap—
you calling her a freak while grinding on her face—
you licking her fingers while sitting on her bed like a brat—
suddenly, she jerks awake with a sharp inhale, eyes wide, hoodie tangled around her arms, face flushed, sheets kicked off the bed.
her room’s still dark, lit only by the faint glow of her lava lamp and the blinking red light of her PS3. her sketchbook’s open next to her—flipped to a half-finished drawing of you sitting on her lap with your thong around one ankle.
her hand’s still in her boxers.
and yeah… they’re soaked.
disgusting. tragic. predictable.
ellie groans. drags her forearm over her face like it’ll wipe the sin away. mutters to herself.
“f*ck”
her voice cracks. she rolls onto her back, staring at the popcorn textured ceiling. her stomach flips. her hips twitch.
and suddenly she’s grinding her hand into her boxers again—again—because the image won’t leave her brain.
your face when you bit your lip.
your whisper in her ear.
your p*ssy squeezing her fingers like it needed her.
it’s too bad this is one of them. just another one of her pathetic dreams.
how does she know who I am? and why does she give a damn about me?
nerd!gf!ellie, masc!afab!reader, kind of loser!ellie, nsfw, suggestivity, the last of us, strap (ellie!receiving), dirty talk, degradation, the pet name "puppy," ownership themes, teasing, sub!ellie, dom!reader, bottom!ellie, top!reader, whiny!ellie, pwp
nerd!ellie who flinches every time you move closer. not out of fear—no, she's been waiting for this—but because she's the most nervous she's ever been in her life. painfully, pathetically nervous.
you slide off her glasses carefully and stare into her now darkened green eyes, taking a moment to relish in how flustered she was.
"relax, you look like you're gonna have a panic attack." you teased with a laugh.
"I am relaxed," she lies, giving you a few frantic nods to try and sell it. "mhm," she murmurs to herself as she tries to keep her composure, "'m relaxed."
she's absolutely not.
your fingers drop lower and slip under her tank top. her pale skin is cold to the touch and a little wet with sweat, her abs tensing as she squirmed under your touch.
"so needy," you observed, catching the way her thighs clenched in anticipation.
"'m not." she whined. she is.
you click your tongue and pull back, pouting in faux disappointment. "aw, I guess I'm gonna have to stop then. I mean, you clearly don't need me," you said jutting out your bottom lip, moving your hands off of her body and to either side of her on the bed.
"no! god—no, just—" ellie whines, reaching up to grab your left wrist and put your hand back on her stomach herself.
"just what?"
"..."
you raise your brows, waiting.
"just stop teasing me."
"there's a good girl." you smile.
her body shivered from the cold air when you tugged her underwear and sleep pants down, the fabric bunching at her ankles.
you dipped two fingers into her still clothed cunt and then pulled them close to your eye, spreading them to examine her slick.
her breath hitched at the lewd sight, and her knees spread wider without meaning to. "so wet," you exhaled, eyes flicking back down to hers with a slight smile.
"you're being mean." she looks at you with the most desperate, wrecked expression you've ever seen.
"awww, but you like when I'm mean, ellie." you tilt your head, making her whine.
"you're taking too long she quipped back."
big mistake.
you practically tore her underwear off and pulled your pants down, wasting no time to pop the head of your strap into her.
"wai–ah! I–I'm not ready, 't's so big."
"no, since you're so impatient you clearly want all of it."
with one rough thrust, you filled ellie to the brim. she scratched at your back and let out a borderline pornographic scream as the head of your cock kissed her cervix, a bulge forming underneath the skin of her stomach.
when you ceased your actions and paused, you half expected her to sigh in relief but her response was much more amusing.
"what're you doing? move."
"fine." and so you did, making sure to be as rough as possible and ruin her inside and out as you snapped your hips to meet hers.
"h-hate you. you're so mean to me," she mewls with furrowed brows, her lips parted and slightly tilting downward into a frown.
"oh yeah? you hate me?" a particularly harsh thrust. "is that why you've been stalking all my social media posts at night? why you want me to own you?"
"you've bee—nmh! fuck—s-seeing that? oh, god–need you! 'm all yours, please," she managed to whimper out between moans, eyes rolling back as she gripped the sheets.
"awwww that's cute, you thought I wouldn't? you're so stupid baby," you groaned, pounding into her faster.
"mh–no! I'm gonna, gonna–"
cum leaked all over your strap as you both came in sync, your body collapsing onto ellie's as you finished, strap still buried in her.
"such a good puppy," you cooed at her completely blissful expression, green eyes glassy without a thought behind them.
loser!ellie who gets eaten out in the lockers room.
cunnilingus risky sex bully!reader & nerd!ellie !! <16 dni
it was 10 in the morning— nobody would be there, you told her. shy and scared of getting in trouble, she agreed. just because you promised not to bully her for a month, a sweet promise she knew you wouldn't keep for more than a day. maybe she just wanted to satisfy your desires to try and like you more, even if she found the idea impossible.
your mixed signals were so confusing that the poor girl really couldn't see how truly obsessed you were with her, with making sure that you were all she talks about.
she sat in the bench, parting her legs just slightly enough to let you kneel in between them and get to work. as soon as you pulled her jeans down, you were greeted with the sight of a lacy black thong. could've never imagined it, truly. last time she was wearing some pathetic minecraft boxers.
"what? it's just in case someone fucks me in the lockers room." she joked lightly earning a chuckle from you, thought you could sense her nervousness. it was totally visible, especially because of her flushed skin, the slight tremble of her raspy voice and the way her hands fidgeted with her cheap rings.
"you look hot." you praised her, caressing her thighs slowly, mesmerized by the softness of her pale skin.
a minute later, you were still kissing her thigh and biting her, the pale skin bruising so easily it was scary. you weren't even near to where she needed you the most, but marking her was too fun to hurry up.
"oh god, please." she sighed out with desperation. "someone will notice i'm missing. well- no, but they'll notice you." she warned you. her leg started bouncing nervously, and you stopped her with a firm grip on her thigh.
"quiet. nobody will find us." you said playflully leaving another hickey on her inner thigh, though you weren't being completely true. you just wanted to drag the moment forever. she just sighed in frustration, not even daring to touch you.
when you finally dared to slide her underwear down, a shaky breath left her mouth without her cunt even being touched. and when you kissed her pale flesh slowly, just like you had been doing for almost 5 torturing minutes, her tattooed hand grabbed your hair and guided your mouth to her pussy.
"hurry." she complained, moving your head up and down against her; she was basically using you to spread her slick over her folds.
you slapped her arm off of you to take the matter into your own hands and licked a stripe against her cunt, tasting her nectar.
the small sounds she let out were truly heavenly, making you wonder what were you doing with your life if it wasn't pleasing her until she got sick of you.
you got quicker, even if your jaw hurt, and introduced your fingers inside of her, not even waiting for her to get used to it. you knew her too well; she could take it.
"cummin'." she told you weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. her legs locked around you as you worked her through her orgasm.
you finally pulled back, but everything felt too silent. like nothing could go wrong if you tasted just a little more of her.
ten minutes later, you were both in detention making up a story about a stuck tampon ://
a/n: the ending is ass but yk its more ass? actually going thru that !! uhh a minute of silence for 2024 me ig :/
⤷ Nerd!Ellie who is a constant yapper. she's usually pretty quiet around most people, but you?! 25/8 this girls mouth is moving when shes around you.
⤷ Nerd!Ellie who is extremely awkward. stumbling over her own converse shoelaces and every syllable she utters.
⤷ Nerd!Ellie who hid her sketchbook from you for months because she was too nervous to show people her drawings. she goes bright red in the face anytime you bring it up to her.
⤷ Nerd!Ellie who goes to the library at the same time every week to read, study, work on assignments or even just get away from people for a few hours. its one of her favourite places.
⤷ Nerd!Ellie who accidentally left her journal with you when you studied together in the library one week and fully freaked out when you joked about reading it. ofcourse you would never actually do that, but she still had the most adorable mini heart attack ever at the thought of it. her most recent pages were probably her rambling on about the way you were looking at her in english class the day before.
⤷ Nerd!Ellie who played her guitar for you the first time you went to her house. you were both sat on her bed while she played 'Scott Street'. you hyped her up afterwards and she got all nervous and refused to believe how good you said she was.
⤷ Nerd!Ellie who, speaking of music, has her bedroom walls plastered in posters from her favourite artists and bands. she complains about them falling all of the time and blames it on the 'dodgy' blu-tack she used to hang them, but maybe its just her horrible poster-hanging skills. she tries to keep her large collection of vinyls and cds organised but always forgets to put them back on her shelf which results in her looking through all the tiny spaces in her crowded room for them. the thought of it makes you giggle and she rolls her eyes at you every time for laughing at her unorganisation.
⤷ Nerd!Ellie who almost died when you sent her a "you look cute rn" text from across the lab in chemistry one time. when she turned around you were pretending to be completely indulged in your notes, subtly smiling to yourself knowing what you had just done.
⤷ Nerd!Ellie who finally (accidentally) confessed her feelings to you during a bedroom study session while attempting to tutor you in algebra. you had been wearing a slightly revealing tank top due to the hot weather that day and you didn't hesitate to point her out when you caught her staring. she completely fumbled and eventually spat it out. you knew, i mean, she hadn't been very subtle about it at all.
