you fuck me like you’re still mad
(dealer!ellie x reader · post-fight makeup sex · smut)
————
it starts with a slammed door.
“fuck you, ellie.”
“fuck me?” she barks back, jaw tight, eyes already sharp. “are you fucking serious?”
you laugh — bitter. cruel. because you’re pissed. because your chest hurts. because she’s looking at you like you’re the one who started it, when she’s the one who pushed, like always.
you shove past her. “yeah. yeah, i’m serious.”
you don’t even remember what sparked it this time. something stupid. something small. a flinch, a tone, the way she didn’t answer you earlier when you reached for her. it built up in your throat like smoke and then exploded — now you’re both standing in her shitty apartment, red-faced and shaking, pacing like trapped animals.
ellie runs a hand through her hair, turning away from you. pacing.
“you’re unbelievable,” she mutters.
“yeah? then why the fuck do you keep me around?” you snap, too fast, too loud.
she stops.
turns.
and for a second, it’s quiet.
her eyes are dark — not angry, not anymore. just… wrecked.
“don’t say that,” she says, low. “don’t fucking say that.”
“why not?” you bite. “maybe you should just let me go.”
she walks toward you, slow. steps careful. voice trembling now:
“you don’t mean that.”
you shake your head. “you think i don’t notice? how you pull away when it gets too close? how you pretend none of this means anything?”
she’s in front of you now.
you’re breathing hard. her nostrils flare.
“you think i don’t feel it?” you whisper. “every fucking time you look at me like you wanna kiss me but never do? every time you hold me like i matter and then act like it didn’t happen?”
and that’s it.
that’s what breaks her.
her mouth crashes into yours without warning — desperate, feral, like she’s been biting it back for months and can’t take it anymore. her hands are in your hair, gripping too tight. your spine hits the wall and she presses into you like she needs you to feel every part of her — chest heaving, lips open, teeth dragging.
you groan into her mouth, grab at her hoodie, tug it over her head with shaking hands. her shirt goes with it. you bite her collarbone. she hisses.
“you’re such a fuckin’ brat,” she growls against your jaw, panting. “talkin’ to me like that—”
“you like it,” you gasp.
she smirks — dangerous. teeth bared. “yeah, i do.”
her thigh slots between yours. you roll your hips down without thinking, desperate for friction. her hands grip your waist, shove you harder against the wall, and she kisses you again — rougher this time. angrier. wetter.
your moan gets caught in her mouth.
“bed,” you whisper.
“no.” her voice is low. ragged. “right here.”
she unbuttons your jeans like she’s mad at them. shoves them down with your underwear. doesn’t wait. doesn’t tease.
her hand slips between your thighs and you gasp — knees nearly buckling, back arching. her fingers are warm and rough and purposeful. she curls them up, slow at first, watching your face like it’s her favorite movie.
“mad at me?” she murmurs.
you shake your head, dazed.
“still think i don’t want you?”
“fuck, ellie—”
she grins. “yeah. that’s what i thought.”
she starts fucking you with her fingers — deep, steady, no mercy. your head falls back against the wall, mouth open, eyes fluttering. your hands claw at her arms, her back, her shoulders. trying to anchor. trying to stay.
“god, you’re—” she kisses your neck, your chest. “—so fucking wet. can’t believe i waited this long.”
you whimper, rocking against her palm, grinding into every thrust like it’s the last thing you’ll ever feel. your body’s already buzzing, tight and slick and close.
“ellie, i—i’m gonna—”
“good.” her mouth is on your throat, licking sweat. “fuckin’ do it.”
you come with a stuttering cry, body shaking, her name leaving your lips like a prayer.
but she doesn’t stop.
she holds you up with one arm around your waist, keeps her fingers inside, slows the pace, kisses the corner of your mouth.
“you think we’re done?” she whispers. “i’m not done.”
you’re dizzy. breathless. wet all over.
you reach for her belt.
she helps you, eyes locked on yours the whole time — unbuckling, unzipping, shedding denim and underwear in seconds. she pushes you back again, lifts your thigh, presses her cunt to yours and gasps — forehead falling to your shoulder.
you rock together. slick against slick. sloppy and frantic. her arms wrapped around you, your fingers digging into her back.
“i love you,” she breathes — too fast, too quiet.
you freeze. she doesn’t.
“i love you,” she says again, desperate. angry. like it hurts her to admit.
you kiss her hard. cry against her mouth. wrap your arms around her and grind down, faster now, chasing that edge again with her hips slamming up to meet yours.
you both come again — loud, messy, shaking in each other’s arms. her face buried in your neck, yours in her hair. sweaty. flushed. ruined.
when you finally pull back, her lip’s bleeding. your eyes are glassy.
she kisses you slow this time. soft.
“still mad?” she whispers.
you breathe out a laugh. “yeah. but i’ll get over it.”
she smirks.
and kisses you again.