Ellie Williams Fanfiction - Blog Posts

This right here DELICIOUS😆

ellie with a breeding kink is all i think about

it’s been a while. 💗🎀

cw: strap on sex (r!reciving), breeding kink, mating press, darcyphilia, semi-public sex, protective ellie. MDNI

her forehead presses onto yours.

her firm chest merges with your own, she squeezes down your breast, plays with the plushy fat and flicks your hard nipple with her thumb.

she’s sweating, face painted in a red hue, eyebrows scrunched together, a prominent line in between.

when her large hand intertwines with yours and squeezes it, you nearly cry. her thumb brushes upon your scorching hot, sticky and glistening skin and she caresses, she comforts.

“can’t t-take it” you hiccup.

oh, she knows.

she shushes you intently, smiling against your lips so big you can feel her teeth graze them, then she pecks your shaky bottom one and suckles your silly idle pout away.

“yes y’can baby, know you can”, her voice is raspy, quiet, velvety and nothing short of tantalizing.

a fat tear streamlines down your cheek, you whine, trembling voice breaking a pathetic screech.

you feel so full.

“mhm, keep crying, gonna make me cum if you keep crying”

you squeeze her hand and she squeezes yours again. hard. it nearly hurts, it doesn’t, though.

ellie lets out a throaty chuckle. “jus’ wet everywhere, huh?…” she slams her hips harder, harsher, she keeps on chuckling, her pelvis meets yours then her voice cracks. “cheeks wet, pussy’s—“ slam! “fuckin’” slam! “weeping”

patrol’s don’t usually go like this. hell, you usually don’t even go on patrols. she doesn’t like it when you do, she scoffs when you ask, and this time — this time she just nodded. “kay, grab the gun”, she spoke quietly, and then she opened the door. when you stepped out of her home, her chest pressed against your back.

you felt a bulge against your ass. she wore it for you. you didn’t notice it this morning, didn’t notice it in the early afternoon. only now, when you stepped outside to the gentle caress of a warm breeze.

“gonna be good though, right?” she rasped against your skin, you trembled, you nodded. she squeezed your hip then stepped aside.

“mhm, i bet” was all she muttered in response.

this wasn’t a regular patrol, that’s for sure.

so when your soaking, achy, red hole squeezes around her thick silicone shaft and sucks her in like she might run away if you don’t, ellie’s eyes go crossed. she bites her bottom lip hard, puffs hot air out of her lips and grunts out your name. you moan so sweetly, squeaking around her almost, ellie has to shake her head and chuckle in dismay. “never t-t-takin’ you on p-patrol again, filthy, fuckin’ girl”

you wail a “no, please!”

how terrible.

she fucks you harder.

spreading your legs forcefully with her palms, your thighs begin to shake and burn, ellie squats in between them and lowers her gaze to watch your cunt take her girth in. her pussy twitches in response, clit pumping and rubbing against the base.

she has her jeans down to her ass.

she’s so wet it streams down her naked creamy thighs.

she always fucking smiles, has that devilish twinkle in her eye, that cocky scoff leaving her lips when her ears catch on to the wet squelching noises coming from your abused and swollen cunt.

it’s disgusting, filthy and obscene.

then she toys and plays with your clit like it’s her goddamn ps controller, moving her thumb in calculated circles and it’s delicious.

“el-l-lie”

you squeak and wail like a dogs brand new chew toy.

“s’my name, mhm, louder” she commands, voice not as velvety now, not as smooth, not as sharp, only consumed by desperation. you utter her name again, louder, she agrees, she mewls. “ellie’s, fuuuuuuuh! ngh— sweet, fuckin’ pussy”

you recognize that tone. it’s fuckdrunk and pussy whipped and she’s closer than ever, the smooth milky and creamy ring your cunt formed on her dick a hypnotic show.

you egg her on.

“s’de-ee-p, so deep, ellie! your dick’s so g—“

ellie falls on her hands and reaches closer to your face. her hot breath overwhelms you, fans over your nose and your mouth, then her freckles overwhelm you, then her green orbs overwhelm you. you scream out her name, she shifts her weight on to her shoulders and slaps her hand on your mouth. you bite down on her flesh and ellie winces, then places it on your lips again with a slap.

she knows what game you’re playing with your filthy words and your whorish whines. attempting to make her cum before you do — it’s playful for you, for her… it’s so much more.

it’s an ego thing.

so she shuts you the fuck up.

and now she looks terrifying.

you have dirt on your scalp, grass stuck to your sticky and salty tears covered face, you don’t care.

so ellie picks up her pace, slamming her cock deeper and faster down and into your cunt, fucking her entire length into you, her tip kissing and grazing and kissing the bottom of your cervix each time she bottoms out. your moans are guttural even when blocked by her hand.

your tears are so beautiful, shiny and sleek and they keep on goddamn streaming down your swollen puffy cheeks, ellie moves closer to your ear and builds herself a nest there. then she whispers, sweet praises and sweet nothings till your thighs shake some more.

“m’gonna fuck a kid into you, huh? want my fuckin’ babies, yeah?”

it’s a juxtaposition.

how are her words so lewd and her voice so saccharin and sweet as honeycomb and vanilla cupcakes. how is she so quiet and so loud.

she grunts harsh.

you’re consumed by the sounds coming from her lips and the sounds of her cock slapping inside your cunt.

“fill you your cute pussy u-up with my fuckin’ cum, you’d like that, know you would, you’d love it, you’d fuckin— cream f-for it”

your moans grow louder and louder, she replaces her palm on your mouth with two salty fingers down your throat. you don’t bite them, you suck.

“good girl”, ellie rasps.

then ellie keeps on mumbling.

“t-then…” she sucks on your earlobe because she can’t help it, then she pecks your cheek and tastes your tear. she swallows, “no m-more fuckin’ questions about patrols, none of that fuckin’ shit, jus’— oh fuck, filled with m-my fuckin’ babies”

ೀ spoiled. ( part one )

📞🕯️🎀 ₊˚⊹♡ “ baby , can you call me back ? i miss you … it’s so lonely in my mansion … “ 🧸🪽🍬

pairing: ellie williams x rich fem!reader

synopsis: the mansion you live in is getting too cold , the silence is way too silent , and not even reruns of sex & the city can help … long story short , you’re feeling lonely . wonder if you can think of someone in your contacts that can help and warm you up , a certain classmate perhaps ?

warnings: girly reader , kind of desperate loser ellie , bratty spoiled rich reader so don't read if that annoys you , allusion to smut , actual smut will be in the second chapter , this is dirty so mdni as usual !

an: i wrote this such a long time ago and it wasn't supposed to be two parts but well now it is !! i will start writing the second part if u guys want to so don't be shy in my inbox. not proofread unfortunately ♡

A perfectly manicured hand rests on the fluffy white and silky smooth duvet. the Egyptian cotton, to be exact, is nothing but lavish, a sanctuary of indulgence in the realm of your own private luxury. Then, you tap your nails atop it, and the fabric crinkles. You gently sigh, but it's more so a grumble, and reach over for the ‘Dunkin’ cup standing on your wooden bedside table. It perfectly matches every single one of the furniture in your extravaganza of a walk in closet, and the bed-frame as well. You take a slow, indulgent sip out of the icy cold drink, take an ice cube out with a straw, and gently suckle on it. You place the drink back on the table, shifting your gaze back over to the flat screen television.

Carrie forgave Mr. Big again, and now she’s seen frantically pacing around the streets of New York City in her shiny Manolo Blahniks. You arch your brows, humming in high pitched amusement. you have the exact same pair!

Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda always seem to bring you a sense of comfort. Usually, your bed brings you a sense of comfort as well, and so does an icy drink with specifically eight cubes of ice. Your room smells like French vanilla, a tinge of cinnamon, and the sweetest pie you’ve never learned how to bake. Most of the time, you’d bask in the scent and feel nice, and cosy, and your nose would scrunch and your nostrils would flare out, then you’d open your favorite food delivery app and order a nice ol’ package of nine chocolate chip cookies. Then, you’d pop open a bottle of champagne and indulge yourself in the sweets deliciousness.

But your appetite is less existent than snow in the middle of August.

You’re also freezing cold, fuzzy socks and all — goosebumps rising on your skin and feeling sharp like Japanese knives.

Your best friend of a white home cat, Toodle, elegantly extends his supple frame, his lithe form gracefully ascending to nestle within the cradle of your neck. His bell gently dingles, he yawns and mellifluously meows. Right now, it sounds more like an old mans groan.

“I know, Toots… m’bored too. And cold, Jesus…” you mutter towards Toodles, who, in his usual aloof manner, closes his eyes and surrenders to the soothing hum of his purring. You puff some air out of your mouth, brain wheels turning as to find out what’s the cause of this blue mood. The air conditioning is completely turned off, you’re sure of it, and the fireplace crackles with warmth. Your entire moisturized body is covered up by a ridiculously expensive thick blanket, and it’s not the short VS nightie that makes you feel freezing, you’re convinced of that. For some reason, the frosty sensation persists. You smack your lip-glossed lips before bumping your head against your mountain of pillows, emitting a low grunt of exasperation.

You don’t know the reason for your boredom, or for this bum mood, because albeit you’ve seen this episode about a gazillion times, it never fails to entertain the shit out of your brain.

Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’re entirely alone (except for Toddles, of course, can't forget him) in a 10,000 square feet mansion. or perhaps it’s because the only lit room inside the mansion is your own.

But then you roll your eyes, because your parents are always away (at St. Tropez this time), so feeling alone isn’t a new and strange concept.

Alas, being alone isn’t the same as being lonely.

Your face twists at the depressing thought, ew. You’re not lonely, just… bored, and unamused, and the icy drink isn’t sweet enough and Carrie’s getting on your last nerve, and the 1,000 dollar blanket is starting to itch the hell out of your hyper-sensitive skin.

Which is why you get up from the bed in a moment of eureka, landing your feet against the fuzzy carpet and slide them into your Ugg’s. “Uh huh!” you chirp, you finally got it.

You’re experiencing an old friend of a feeling called (drumroll…) — anxiety, over your unfinished chem project! It must have masked itself in the form of frigidness and discomfort and loneliness.

But the project isn’t even due till next week, and you rarely get stressed over college stuff unless they’re due the next day and you’re sitting, staring down at your laptop screen, trying to communicate with it through telepathy or something of that sort.

Somaybeit’snotanxiety and maybeyou’rejustloney.

You shake away that uneasy and irritating thought, and sit your pretty butt down on the rolling chair. You click your shiny glittery pen (that always sheds some glitter onto your hand) and open up the thick as brick textbook.

You read the first question out loud.

The correct formula for aluminum nitrate is…

Valentino’s Lòco Toile Iconographe shoulder bag in hot pink?

Nope.

You shake your head, you have got to focus. You place your chin atop your palm and click the pen once more.

Al(NO2)3? or maybe it’s Al(NO3)3…

or maybe you’re so far off you need to close the book shut and throw it out of the window. You’ve always sucked at chemistry.

Which is why you were assigned to be tutored by that auburn haired, green eyed, slightly sullen, tatted up girl who went by "Ellie" — or "El", but you didn't know her like that.

Ellie, is the one who stuttered out your name as she realized you weren’t paying attention to her tutoring, as you had your gaze fixated on the black ink etched on her forearm, a half-covered flannel and a canvas of delicate veins. A bug, adorned with intricate botanical details, unfurled its wings across her skin.

“S’uh… A moth, with ferns around it n’stuff. It’s kind of faded now though”

Her voice was raspy and husky, and she stuttered out your name. Usually, you’d hate it when people got nervous around you. It made you feel odd, ostracized, and you always insisted — you were so damn sweet, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You wore sweet perfume, sweet as goddamn cherries and cupcakes, and your voice was soft and you always smiled brightly, and so what if your purse cost more than a college tuition?

But her nerves didn’t annoy you. In fact, you found them charming, and you found her sweet. You found that all of her “Uhhh” ‘s, and her “Mhhm” ‘s, all of her stammering and her lack of ability to keep eye contact with you to be… infatuating.

Then there was that rich voice, and those eyes, that smile, those hands, those damn toned arms, those biceps and the haircut, the way two short strands of hair always framed her face perfectly and her scent — that you could tell was just a cheap cologne, but mixed with her unique fragrance, proved nothing short of intoxicating.

It was also the fact that she seemed to damn know everything — and that she was always ahead of you, and that her face always bore that coy little smirk when you got a question wrong (which you seemed to get more often than not), and that she would grab your Swarovski pen out of your hand and scribble down the answer for you, just to explain it in detail later.

The way she licked over her bottom lip and bit as wrote down.

With her long fingers and all.

When she spoke, her breath smelled of mint and the faintest tinge of weed, which made you think of how lovely it must be to be able to transform into a damn joint just so she could place you in her mouth and suck —

now you’re sticky, and god now you really are distracted, and not by a cute purse or the sound of rain pouring down on your window. Toodles stretches his tiny limbs and you hear his bell faintly dingle again. He climbs down from your princess bed and jumps up to sit at your lap. You caress down his white fur and he purrs.

You wonder if Ellie likes cats.

You know she likes pussy.

You have got to get a grip.

You massage your temples, attempting to focus on the written down questions again, but the words and the numbers seem to mix into a cacophony of odd symbols and letters, and you’re still so goddamn cold.

Albeit your eyelids droop down slowly, eyes spazzing out of focus, the assignment must be done today.

“Just, finish the damn work and go to sleep. Yup.” You mumble to yourself, a habit you picked up as a result of being alone for most of your childhood, and having to opt for the help of imaginary friends to keep you comfort. Alas, you’re older now and only have yourself to talk to.

You try and follow your command.

The problem is, you don’t know jack shit.

You wish Ellie was here, with her hair sticking to her forehead and your pen in her hand and her old chuck’s glued to her feet, as she sits down on the spare chair aside you with her jaw resting on her knees.

You wish you could hear her faint chuckle as you get another question wrong.

As a tutor, of course.

Not even as a friend, because she’s not.

Definitely not as a lover, obviously, because that would truly be so far fetched from reality — although… right now, you can’t help but think of the way her eyes fall down to your chest as a crimson blush creeps up her cheeks.

And you keep thinking about the time you purposely let your bra strap cascade down your shoulder, just because you wondered how she’d react — Which was with averting her gaze to the side and clearing her throat. Now you think of the time you wore an extra short mini skirt, not that different from the rest of them although a bit tinier, and how you kept rubbing your thighs together just to see whether she’d notice or not, which she did…

You groan and slap your palm against your forehead.

Then, you stare at another question and then at your phone. Toodles chimes in with a high-pitched meow.

“Oh my gosh Toots, so true! I should text her the questions, duh”

You’re not delusional at all, by the way.

So you send her your address.

In the meantime, you make sure your studying environment and your room are as tidy as possible. You grab your sparkly pink pen and place it near the textbook, and you grab a matte black pen for Ellie as well, a thoughtful gesture.

You also apply some strawberry scented moisturizer on your body, and spray your sickly sweet perfume on your pule points.

You slip your feet out of your slippers, and you wear your favorite heels. However, you keep your little nightie on. You’re supposed to feel comfortable, this is your house after all, and the heels — are just a courtesy, you are expecting company, and opening the front door with house slippers is entirely rude, and the silky robe… It’s long enough and proper. Ish.

You stare at your reflection down the mirror, and for some reason, you feel utterly nervous. You’re all dolled up for a person who isn’t a stranger, but who also isn’t a friend. When you coat your lips with some minty gloss, Toodles stretches his tail upwards and meows.

“Psh. Do not judge me, Toots. This is normal, I do this all the time”

Which again is a total and complete white lie, because if it was a regular friend coming over, you wouldn’t have even bothered to fix up your makeup, and you’d barely even get up from the comfort of your own bed.

As a matter of fact, not many people come by your house at all. You have your fair share of friends, but you’d much rather hang out by the mall or at one of their mansions, yours always feels just, utterly suffocating — as giant and spacey as it might be. And sure, you’ve had hook ups before, but you always went rigid when they tried to slip past your panties, and you were always… dry, as an autumn leaf.

Ellie makes you feel anything but dry.

Physically — you shake your head and try getting rid of the thought by giving yourself some good old whiplash.

You find yourself pacing around your room, until you manage to cascade downstairs as soon as you hear the bell ring. With each step you take, your heel taps the lavish ceramic pavement.

“Stay”, you gesture towards your fluffy feline companion, who responds with a squinting of his eyes. “Don’t freak out our company”

You look at Ellie’s face from the intercom’s shiny screen. You look at it so hard you nearly forget to press on the button that’s purpose is to let your tutor-guest in. A couple of strands of her auburn bangs stick to her forehead. Ellie scratches her eyes with the back of her hands and she straightens up her spine. As she waits for the gate to open, she puffs some air from her cheeks. She attempts to fix her eyebrows with the tips of her fingers, and seems to be murmuring something underneath her breath.

You’re not the best at lip reading, but your gut tells you she just whispered a “Hi”, and added your name, then — “Hey” adding your name once more.

It’s absolutely impossible for her to not be aware of how stupidly and irritatingly cute she is.

You press on the button and clear your throat. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t practice your greeting in front of a mirror as well. Your robe cascades down your shoulder, you fixate on it and contemplate pulling up the fabric.

Toodles meows once more.

Yup. You should keep it down.

It takes Ellie a good five minutes to walk the full distance from the front gate to your huge white door.

Then she knocks three times on the wood, and you squeak like a mouse although you really were fully prepared.

Your tutor wears a blue flannel with a white undershirt tucked beneath. The first button is opened, revealing a tiny piece of her pale skin. Below, her legs are covered with tight skinny jeans with a tear on the knee (you’re not sure if she fell or if it’s done purposely so), and to your surprise — no Chuck’s, but Doc Martens.

Noted. She has more than one pair of shoes.

When you greet Ellie with a cheerful — yet ever so relieved and breathy “Hi”, you kiss her on the cheek like you do all of your friends, and you can smell that cheap cologne again.

Amber, citrus, musk, lavender.

There’s a hint of actual Ellie in the mix as well — smoke, herbs, sweat… did she run here?

When you hug Ellie you focus on her scent.

When you hug Ellie she focuses on absofuckinglutely nothing — Her body goes rigid and stiff and she doesn’t hug you back until two way too long seconds pass, and she finally manages to place her hand on your waist.

But she doesn’t hug or squeeze, she rests it there.

Then she coughs.

“Hey”

You take a step back and you can tell she’s a bit flushed, or flustered — but you take it as her just running. You lean your hand against one of the thick pillars. Her orbs travel frantically from your eyes down to your… legs, that are completely bare and smooth and shiny, then they run down to your feet, which are covered with heels…

You think she might say something about it, about you, how ridiculous you look, so you’re washed up with self consciousness and shyness which is something you rarely get to feel, unless you’re with that damn girl for some reason.

Then her eyes hyper-focus on… the ceiling?

You grant Ellie a half smile and you really yearn to break the silence — but she’s ahead of you. Again.

“It’s… you have a really high ceiling” she says, then immediately glues her eyes on to the floor.

“Uh, shiny floor…” she chuckles so freaking awkwardly, grazing the bottom of her left legs doc’s on the floor so it squeaks. Immediately, Ellie apologizes.

“Shit, sorry, my shoes fuckin’ muddy. I uh, ran here”

You gingerly smile and furrow your brows. You theory has been proven correct. “You ran?”

“Walked, like, not ran ran”

There’s the tiniest droplet of sweat on Ellie’s forehead, which she wipe’s swiftly and clumsily with the back of her hand when she notices your eyes scan it. Oh, she ran ran alright. You do feel a little bad, picturing Ellie’s shoes hitting below her ass as she runs through the streets of your city, with a packed and awfully heavy mauve backpack — smacking against her back with every step she takes. You almost pout, you’re still leaning against the pillar and you smack your lips together — gloss and all, out of habit.

“Could’a given you a ride, y’know” you light sweetly. Ellie’s scarred eyebrow arches up in response. “You have a license?”

You so want to shove her shoulder playfully, but you’re convinced it’ll make her go absolutely rigid again. Physical contact bricks her up — noted.

“Why is that such a surprise?” you flash her a teasing smile. She smiles back at you.

“S’just, thought you’d have a personal driver. Can’t really imagine you driving that monster of a Rover back there —“

You nod in complete amusement. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Ellie teases, followed by a throaty chuckle. “Plus, took you more of a passenger princess type of girl”

And that sentence shouldn’t make you stutter the way you do next. It shouldn’t, but it does. You back away slowly and Ellie follows your footsteps.

“T-that’s, awfully presumptuous” you chirp. Her boots stomp on the floor and your heels click clack. “Plus, I don’t drive that Rover. My car’s in the garage with the rest of ‘em” you say matter-of-factly.

Ellie scoffs impishly behind you. You walk up the stairs and she follows suit. She’s confident when she teases, you think, which is a tad different than her usual awkward self, but if only you knew she nearly slipped down one of the steps as she noticed the tiniest, delicious, most precious piece of your flesh that was just exposed behind you as a result of your incredibly short nightie.

“Psh, so presumptuous”

As you walk towards your room, Ellie walks behind you although she has more than enough space to walk besides you. You get the feeling that she's nervous, even after her teasing and all, and you don't have to wonder why too much. Your house is huge, intimidating, filled with strange sculptures and paintings by obscure artists regular people have never even heard of. You don't have just one living room, you have three, and in each and every one of them stands a different technology piece of some sort. Also, your heels cost more than her outfit, could be more worth than the entirety of her damn closet, and most importantly — you're walking with a pink robe and some heels on.

When you reach your room, Ellie awkwardly smiles and straightens her muscular back. Then, she holds on to the straps of her backpack.

"First of all" you sigh, and now it's your turn to feel coy. "Thank you for coming over so late. I know it's like, absolutely ridiculous, and you know, you don't get paid for this so...", you flash Ellie an endearing smile, the apples of your cheeks rising sweetly as a humble thank you. "And, second of all... jus'... brace yourself?"

Ellie's brows arch up, but before she has time to ask — oh.

You both step into your lit room. Toodles follows by closely, entering the room as well, whilst rubbing his furry back against Ellie's calves.

"Yup..."

Ellie's fingers instinctively clasp onto the straps of her backpack once more, her eyes widening ever so slightly, but she fights to seem as unsurprised as she can — she fails miserably, because she gasps a little.

Your room is nothing but a... cotton candy dream world. A wall that's painted in pretty dusty pink, a princess bed that's nothing but a regal centerpiece. Above the bed, a canopy of gossamer silk drapes from a custom-crafted wrought iron frame, And the final sophisticated touch, a grand crystal chandelier, suspended from the ceiling. There are also clothes everywhere, empty water bottles, used sheet masks, a stack of books — some half-read, others forgotten, teetered precariously on a random corner. Ellie sticks out like a sore thumb. She stands out like a neon sign in a library, a skateboard at a black-tie gala.

You like it.

She clears her throat, stepping further into your room. "I take it black is your favorite color?" she titters sarcastically.

You giggle.

"Mhm, also I'm clearly very organized, and I hate clothes" you murmur and point out the pile of dresses haphazardly bunched in the corner of your room.

She should feel out of place. She should probably laugh, even sneak a pic — tell all her "cool" friends about how mindblowingly ridiculous the prissy rich girls room is. Instead, she thinks about how cute you must look cuddled up in a bed this big, how adorable it'd be to see your bed-head poking through the sheets at 8am, how sweet it must be to watch you skip around your room, trying on your shitload of clothes, throwing them in the air and huffing like a medieval brat of a princess. She wants to place a fucking tiara on your head. She sees your sticker collection from the corner of her eye, your vinyls, your candles, your crystals and Toodles' sofa.

And she likes it.

You take a deep breath. You shouldn't even care if she likes it or not, you shouldn't be bothered by it at all — you rarely are, but something inside of you yearns for... something.

"It suits you" she murmurs.

And that's certainly good enough, because it does.

You gesture Ellie to sit on the rolling chair next to yours, and her eyes still roam over the space of your room. “My room looks exactly the same, by the way… same uh, size too… n’stuffed animals… Shit, I like the elephant one”, she sarcastically remarks as she sits on the chair and hunches down, manspreading as she often does. Your eyes can’t help but roam down, because her damn thighs flexed under those jorts and you heard her, but you also kind of didn’t.

Ellie clears her throat and narrows her eyes. Jheez, she thinks, you must be absolutely exhausted since your eyes don’t seem to be able to focus.

“Huh?” you say, startled. You’re still standing up on those heels. Ellie sniffles and chuckles and her voice goes all quiet.

“Said pink nauseates me, that I hate those stuffed animals and that your elephant doll’s ugly as shit”

You roll your eyes and your tongue swipes over your glossy bottom lip. You bite it and you sit down on the chair. Ellie’s eyes scan over your chest and she averts her gaze like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hate you, chem tutor” you huff, resting your head on the palm of your hand. Ellie doesn’t maintain a second of eye contact but she chuckles and it’s cocky.

“You need me, and you need an A in chemistry”

You like that side of her.

You let your eyes blink lazily at her, a cheeky little smirk forming on your lips. When you open your mouth again, just to smack it on your glossy lips, you brush your leg ‘accidentally’ against hers, and rigid she goes. “Mhm, I definitely need you, Ellie…”

The apples of Ellie’s cheek shine in bright crimson and her hand flexes. She grabs her pen and clicks on it once. You didn’t mean it like that, she so obviously knows or believes, but it matters nonetheless. You like that side of her so much more.

You cross your pretty legs and let the tip of your heel graze her chair. “So, you want a drink before we start studying?”, you’re way too damn close, she nods — but she doesn’t need a ‘drink’ she needs a damn water fountain that directly flows onto her mouth and satisfies that damn drench. Is it possible for her damn knee to feel hot? Why is her knee feeling hot?

“Anything specific?”

“Jus’ waters fine” Ellie manages to murmur, lips forming a teeny tiny, shy, crescent smile.

“I was thinking more… like, wine? I have a wine cooler n’my room… if you wanted water i’d have to like, go downstairs and… It’s so lonely in there” your voice is saccharine, delicate, and it and coaxes Ellie’s mind.

“Wine’s perfect, I love wine” says Ellie.

She hates wine.

“Mhm, red or white?” — Your question comes when you lift your butt off the chair and walk slowly towards the cooler.

“Uh, r-red. S’much… richer” Ellie falters, remembering vaguely the time Joel had mentioned white wine’s for pussies. When she tried a red one, she gagged.

“Impressive” you note.

Ellie rolls the chair with the help of her heavy Doc's, and watches as you pour the red liquid into two delicate glasses. Your leg, she notices, is clad with a shiny, delicate golden piece of jewelry. Her eyes scan upwards, towards your bare thighs — the flesh is glistening, almost appearing as if it's covered with oil. Her mind drifts elsewhere, to a world in which your nightie is nothing but nonexistent, and those thighs...

Her stomach grumbles, she firmly holds onto it. Why NOW.

"Hungry?" you place the glass on the table, slightly nudging it towards Ellie.

She's starving.

you flash her a devilish smirk, cocking your head to the side.

"Oh, uhh... nope"

Famished.

i’m on the floor

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.

taglist : @deliciouslydeviantsatan, @valeisaslut, @dollinrehab, @l0veylace, @velvetinkbym, @liztreez, @elliesgffrfr, @sleepingwasp, @brooks-lin, @lovelessswan, @cherrylipsmakerss, @shookkatofthat, @mars4hellokitty, @jaydonisnothere, @ellieslittleslutt, @pussyeatercunt, @livvietalks, @angelsglitch, @robiceps, @lesb4ellie, @sparkle-jump-rope-queen, @sweet-anonyme, @mylettterstoyou, @pinkpigtailedjoy, @pink7princess, @nahcala, @mascspleasegetmepregnant, @sincerlykelsss

lmk if uu wanna be added. :)

★ go to town.

content warnings: smut, smut, smut. not for the weak. umm. you suck ellie’s strap, sooo... strap-on usage, graphic depictions of ( reader!giving ) oral sex, masturbation, orgasm, insane dirty talk from ellie. she, like, very much has a fantasy of having a penis, i guess? general mentions and graphic depictions of sex + just very strong language overall. 18+ MDNI.

word count: 4.3k

“SO PRETTY WHEN I’M IN YOUR THROAT, BABE.”

. . . .

what had started out as a few soft kisses—your girlfriend perched on the edge of the bed in just her sports bra and jeans, legs spread just enough to keep you close, the rough denim brushing your bare thighs—quickly turned into something else entirely. something heavier, more desperate. the air between you shifted with a jolt, thickening when she leaned up to press a quick kiss to your lips— then another. and another. you’d honestly expected nothing more than to press your lips to hers a couple of times, maybe smooth a loving hand over her jaw and through her hair, before disappearing into the bathroom to take the shower you had been looking forward to all day. some innocent kisses, that was all. but it seemed a few chaste pecks just weren’t going to cut it. it hadn’t taken you long to sense it—by the way her palms gripped your hips, long fingers smoothing over your hipbones as her tongue slipped into your mouth—that innocence wasn’t what ellie craved.

when you pulled away from the kiss and found her gaze again, you were met with the kind of transfixing glint that flickered in the mossiness of her irises and spiralled outward into the darkness of her pupils. without saying another word and barely even giving you enough time to take a breath, ellie pulled you back in—this kiss longer. deeper. her grip tightened on your hips for a moment before sliding down to squeeze and scoop at the fleshy roundness of your asscheeks.

the sound of her name twisted into the small gasp that climbed your throat and fell straight into her mouth, landing on her tongue as you felt it flick against yours again with that same feather-light touch. “gotta go shower…” you managed to whisper. ellie broke the kiss, only to press her lips to the corner of your mouth and trail slow, deliberate kisses across your cheek to your ear.

“mm-mm,” you felt her shake her head slightly against the side of your face, hands pulling you closer, until there was no space left. “stay…”

“come on, els...” you were putting up a terrible fight—honestly, it was pathetic. any tiny morsel of resolve that may have sprouted from your desire to step into a warm shower after being on your feet all day had withered immediately when you felt the warmth of your girlfriend’s lips graze against the curve of your earlobe. “...water’s on…”

“so let it run,” her voice poured into your ear, thick and syrupy. “…need you here.”

your eyes fell closed as she spoke, as she touched you. you gripped her shoulders, trying to steady yourself against the intensity of her hold. any time she alluded to wanting you first— with words that teetered on the edge of desperation, laced with such faux-submissive admittance—you became putty in her hands, and she knew it. that’s exactly why she did it. the only way she’d let you disappear into that bathroom was when she was finished with you—preferably with her in tow. but right now, she had you exactly where she wanted you, and you weren’t about to fight her off—not even if you tried.

“…need you on my cock.”

it wasn’t every day that ellie used her strap on you. she usually favoured fingering you— multiple fingers, knuckle deep in your pussy—until you were writhing around on the bed beneath her, the aftermath of your multiple orgasms spilling between the intricate ink on her forearm. but, on the days she chose to switch things up, she always referred to it as her cock. you loved it— the term always felt so rare, almost forbidden and charged with such explicit undertones that it made your skin prickle. her cock, as if the silicone toy was a part of her, connected to every nerve ending, every pleasure receptor. but ellie didn’t want you to be fooled—her inconsistency was never a sign of indifference, of disinterest. she loved being inside you; watching your folds envelop her length like it was made for you, your cunt swallowing every inch of it, right down to the base, greedy for the feeling of being stuffed full of her. and as the words left her lips, warmth bloomed in your lower tummy, a familiar tightness radiating in your clit.

the shadow of a smile pulled at your lips, barely visible as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. “but, my shower…” you turned your head slightly, the faint sound of running water hitting the tile creeping into the bedroom. honestly, the shower was now a half-formed thought compared to what ellie had just planted in your head, but your girlfriend didn’t need to know that. there you stood, in nothing but your underwear and a teasing smile, feigning interest in steam and suds while every nerve in your body was tuned to her. you threaded your fingers into the back of her hair, combing the strands through your digits and pressing a gentle kiss to the only part of her forehead you could reach.

“mm-mm. shower can wait,” she mumbled into your neck, her lips leaving open-mouthed kisses against your pulse point. she could feel it thumping against the thin skin, and this made her laugh wickedly against you. “yeah, you know as well as i do that this shower can wait.” she repeated, pulling away to look up at you while giving your ass a light slap. she smiled in response to the definitive grin that eventually settled on your lips, then moved one hand to grip your wrist in one fluid motion to stop you sliding your thumb inside the band of your underwear. “hold on,” she breathed. “will fuck you— want to fuck you— god, gonna make you feel so good—”

“—but...?” you probed her to finish, desperate to know what she was getting at, and that was the only time that she took a moment from her rambling to press a kiss to the valley between your breasts with a small sigh. then, she found your gaze again through her lashes.

“…but. i wanna put it in your mouth, first.”

her words hit low, hot enough to burn a hole straight through your lower stomach. your tongue flicked out to wet your bottom lip, and you swallowed hard, trying to soothe the scratchiness that was suddenly in your throat. to smother that feeling that bubbled amongst your insides. not nerves— you weren’t nervous. this was deeper, more raw. like adrenaline tangled with lust—fascination set on fire. but you weren’t going to let that show. instead, you simply tilted your head raised an eyebrow. “you do?”

ellie nodded slowly. “fuck, baby, you don’t know how badly i want to. know you’ll look so pretty…” she blinked up at you. “…think about it all the time.”

you couldn’t help but grin at that, teeth on full show as you nodded back at her. it only took four simple words to tip the moment into something heavier— “shower can definitely wait.", and you swore you had never seen that girl move faster— like your instructions had snapped the last thread of her mental restraint, or what was left of it. she stretched over the entire length of the mattress, her movements swift but purposeful, and you watched as she rummaged blindly through the bottom drawer of her bedside table before retrieving her strap-on— six inches of smooth, electric blue silicone that you swore almost glowed in the dimly lit room.

she rose from the bed, yanking off her jeans and plaid briefs quicker than you could really process, before stepping into the harness and adjusting it to fit comfortably around her hips and upper thighs. you watched, mesmerised, gaze lingering over every part of her. sure, you’d seen her do this before, but there was something about this particular instance that made your pulse pick up against your neck up all over again. perhaps it was the way the warm bathroom light trickled through the crack in the door, mingling with the steamy heat of the shower. or maybe it was just the way she was moving— a raw confidence in every extension of her limbs, every subtle shift of her feet, her body taut with anticipation. perhaps it was both of those things— perhaps it was neither. or maybe it was simply because you knew you were about to have your girlfriend’s cock in your mouth for the first time ever, and frankly, you couldn’t wait.

she had barely even made a dent in the mattress when you lowered yourself to the floor in front of her. ellie tilted her chin slightly, gaze fixed on you unapologetically while her tongue rolled against the inside of her cheek, drinking in the way you looked— so pretty, so ready for her. reaching a hand out, she pushed your hair from your forehead, the pad of her thumb smoothing over the soft skin. “is this okay?” she questioned, her voice low, barely above a whisper. even in moments like this — when she was so turned on she could barely catch her breath, arousal already threatening to pour out of her, she always wanted to make sure you were comfortable. raising an eyebrow as you nodded, ellie mirrored your movements. “yeah? and you’re okay?”

you shuffled a little closer on your knees, eyes locked on hers the whole time. “mm-hm. are you?” you teased, and jesus fuck, she was sure she had never been more okay with something in her entire life. you were a picture before her, pupils blown wide as your gaze flickered between her face and her cock. you looked so pretty and eager, she felt like she might burst. the light from the bedside table behind her cast a soft shadow across your face—the length of her cock stretching in silhouette over your chin, your lips, your nose—and the sight made her chuckle.

she eased back onto the bed, resting on her elbows, eyes never leaving you. she didn’t want to miss a thing. “go ahead, baby. go to town.”

and that was exactly what you planned to do. you took a breath, breaking eye contact for only a split second as you leaned in, letting the tip of your nose brush against her, then locking eyes with her again. you didn’t waste much time, licking a slow stripe from the middle of her cock and dragging it upward before encircling the wet muscle around the head. you did this once, twice, three times, your eyes never leaving ellie’s— watching as hers darkened at the sight of you.

she huffed, extending an arm to gather your hair in one hand, keeping it out of your face while muttering something about how she “knew you’d look so fucking hot like this”. you pulled back just a hair’s breadth before opening your mouth more, and enveloping the full upper third of her cock between your lips.

you took her deeper, humming in quiet surprise when you felt the tip of the strap skim the back of your throat already. pausing for a moment, you allowed your mouth to adjust around her before continuing, eyes never leaving ellie’s face— studying it. she was transfixed, watching as everything she’d fantasised about over and over again unfolded right in front of her. her grip tightened around your hair, the other fisting an abundance of the duvet beside her, and as you pulled yourself back, lips still enclosed around her, she spoke again, “that’s right, baby. do it just like that...”.

the praise sent heat spiraling through you, your cunt beginning to expel the wetness it had been trying so hard to keep in—arousal now shamelessly pooling in your underwear. her words just spurred you on further, just as she knew they would, and you sank back down again, taking even more of her into your mouth this time.

she was big—you knew that already from those few times she’d been inside you, but this was something else entirely. you could feel yourself starting to drool, saliva so apparent in your mouth that you weren’t surprised when began to trickle down your chin, wetting ellie’s dick in the process. you continued like that for a minute longer; letting her control the tension, letting her watch, secretly loving the way she kept gathering and re-gathering your hair in her hand as if she was frightened to miss a single second, before finally pulling back.

she slipped from your mouth with a soft pop, your jaw aching and the back of your hand coming up to wipe your chin. ellie exhaled, eyes fixed on your mouth before flicking up to find yours. “that’s the hottest thing i’ve ever fucking seen,” she whispered after a second, breathless and releasing your hair just to gently brush it back over your shoulders with the lightest touch. “view alone’s enough to make me cum...”

the ache between your legs was becoming impossible to ignore, leaving you with nothing to do but chew your lip in response. even though ellie wasn’t able to feel it—not in the way this little charade was mimicking, anyway—her reactions told a different story. the way her jaw clenched, fingers strangling the sheets, how her breath hitched when you swirled your tongue around the silicone tip like it was real. it was all so convincing—so much so, that it made your head spin. as if every motion, every hollow of your cheeks sent waves of pleasure through her body. you both knew it was all in her head, but fuck, somehow that only made it hotter. ellie’s brain couldn't seem to decipher between your mouth working the cool silicone of her strap, and your mouth on her—each time you sank lower, the base of her strap nudging her swollen clit, her hips twitched in response. it was clear to you that your few minutes of light work had her teetering on the edge already.

you watched her from beneath your lashes as you leaned down and whispered, flush against her cock, “hmmm—love having you in my mouth, els.”.

she chuckled lowly at that, chest rising and falling slowly, but still charged with undeniable urgency. she twirled a piece of your hair lazily around her finger, her other arm propping her up on one elbow. “yeah? knew you would. knew you’d be so good at it, too.”

the way she said it—so casually commanding—sent another throb of heat straight to your clit. you were surprised you weren't dripping onto the floor— shit, maybe you were. the tip of your tongue teased the underside of her now, slow but oh so deliberate, and you whispered again, “mm-hm. s’making me so wet...” you glanced up at her. “...wanna touch myself.”

ellie's eyes darkened immediately, and you felt her fingers tightening in your hair, sliding up to grip a handful from the back of your skull, enough to make your scalp sting. she pulled your head back just a little, gentle but firm, and her voice followed lowly. “oh my god.” she tried her hardest not to smile, head tipping to the side as she watched as your hand already began reaching for the space between your legs. “well, don’t let me stop you. know you’re desperate. show me what you do when you think i’m not around.”

you didn’t need to be told twice, hand slipping into the band of your underwear in one fluid motion. a long sigh left your lips as the pads of your fingers began working against your slick clit in tight, desperate circles, your head falling back very slightly.

ellie’s eyes darted between your face and the space between your legs where your fingers disappeared— just hidden enough to drive her crazy; too dark to see as much as she wanted to, and god, she wanted to. her hand didn’t leave your hair, guiding you back down almost immediately. she moved her cock toward your mouth, coaxing rather than demanding, and the tip brushed your bottom lip. you opened for her without hesitation, a needy sound slipping from you—a hybrid of a whimper and a plea—something ellie couldn’t quite place, but which made her jaw tense and her walls clench. you took her back into your mouth, inch by inch—then deeper down your throat, little by little, fingers still relieving your swollen clit.

you moaned around her, and the low vibration travelled through the silicone and brushed against her clit. the unexpected jolt of pleasure made ellie’s breath catch in her throat, eyebrows furrowing. “ohmyfucking—” her free hand flew straight to her mouth, teeth sinking into her knuckle immediately as she curled it between her lips. somewhere amid the wet sounds of spit around her cock and the sight of your fingers buried between your thighs, ellie was sure she was about to pass out. she kept herself propped up with sheer muscle alone, abs burning, arms trembling, but she was so desperate to keep watching you she didn’t care about the pain, she could not stop watching— would not. not when you looked like that.

her breath was shallow, teeth still biting into her knuckle as she watched you; the way you had begun whining around her, how your hips twitched, and the rhythmic dips of your hand between your legs picked up every time your mouth slid back down on her cock... were you—shit, you were. you were fucking yourself. she just knew, and god, was it a sight to behold. “so pretty when i’m in your throat, babe,” she breathed, hand dropping from her mouth as she propped herself up again on her elbow. “so sexy when you fuck yourself for me. mouth full of my cock, fingers in your pussy— god, that’s it, baby. that’s it, love makin’ me feel good, hmm?” she tilted her head to get a better look as you continued, her mouth falling open at the sight of you. “oh, fuck. wish i could cum for you, wish i could pull out and cum all over that pretty face.”

ellie wasn’t even entirely sure if she was talking for your sake or hers, anymore— either way, she couldn’t stop. she didn’t even know if she was making sense. she just knew that it was getting her off, and that it was definitely getting you off, basking in the moans that left you as she spoke.

your fingers were now pistoning in and out of your hole, so much so that both you and ellie could hear the squelching that was coming from your movements as you chased your release. you were so close— ellie could feel it, could see it in the way you were barely holding onto eye contact, your desperate sounds of an imminent orgasm vibrating against her cock. you pulled back from her, far enough to take a breath, but close enough to keep the ribbons of spit that stretched between the two of you intact, and gasped. “ohmy—god, gonna—gonnafuckingcum.”

ellie’s grip on your hair tightened, her fingers pressing deeper into your scalp. “fuck, yeah. lean back for me, let me see you.” her voice was caught somewhere between a command and a plea, but you did as she said and immediately shifed your weight from your knees to your heels. you leaned back just enough that your thighs spread wider, and the space between them finally became visible to your girlfriend. with your free hand, you hooked a finger around the edge of your cotton underwear and pulled them aside to reveal all. as if she didn’t think she could get any hornier, that action alone and the sight of your glistening pussy earned both a heavy sigh and a desperate moan from ellie— one she had no interest in covering up. “oooh— there she is,” the girl leaned forward, getting as close to you as she could without actually joining you on the floor. her eyes found yours, and that was where they stayed, dark and expectant. “go on, baby. keep going, don’t fucking stop. wanna watch you cum just like this.”

you didn't stop—couldn’t. even if you’d tried. your fingers moved faster now, curled, and slippery, and frantic, hitting that spongey spot that ellie had taught you to find. her voice didn’t let up, but instead pushed you further, right into the cusp of that white-hot edge. “oh my god, you’re so close. aren’t you?” “y-yes!” “yeah,” she murmured, eyes flicking between your cunt and your face, savouring it all. “god, wanna put my hands on you so bad. wanna put my cock in you so bad, make you cum again— all over it, baby.”

a smile spread over her face as she saw the effect her words had on you—well, the ones that weren’t getting lost in the haze of pleasure that clouded your mind. your moans climbed higher, getting breathier by the second as your head lolled backwards and forwards in a pathetic attempt at a nod. your hips stuttered against your fingers, walls clenching and the pressure tightening more and more in your stomach. ellie stared, like you might vanish altogether if she blinked, her chin propped in her hand and hips rocking against the weight of her strap at that perfect angle as she braced herself for what was about to come— literally.

and then it hit. your eyes clung onto ellie’s for as long as they could before rolling back into your head as your climax ripped through you. they squeezed shut, body trembling and breath catching on a long moan as your fingers continued to pump in and out of your quivering hole, which tightened with every stroke. ellie’s hips continued to buck, almost uncontrollably now, against her cock as she watched you cum, her own eyelids turning heavy as the long orgasm washed over you. you were gorgeous; the slightest sheen of sweat covered your forehead, chin still slick with spit, face flushed, and she could see the wetness that covered your fingers every time they caught the light.

the sight of you alone was enough to tip her over the edge, clit pulsating with every small brush of her strap as she fucked against it now. that alone was enough to send her hurtling into her own orgasm, which presented itself in a mess of frantic hip movements and heavy moans, most of which were sucked through gritted teeth. “shit— oh, fuck!”

your body crumpled with the weight of your orgasm, fingers slipping from between your legs as aftershocks rolled through your body in supersonic waves. every nerve was raw, and you let yourself slump forwards to lean the side of your face against ellie’s knee. the sight made her laugh through ragged breaths, and she watched your thighs twitch and listened intently as the small noises of relief and post-orgasm bliss left you.

“jesus christ,” she muttered through another laugh, her voice hoarse. she combed her fingers through your hair, unsticking the strands from your face and tilting her head to look at you. “hey, pretty. you alive in there?”

you nodded slowly, eyes peeling open to look up at her; lids heavy, rendering her a hazy, pulsating mass before your vision finally adjusted to her gorgeous features properly. “just about.” a breathless laugh left your lips, and you watched ellie’s mouth twitch in response. her long fingers continued to rake across your temple and through your hair, so gentle that it almost distracted from the shit-eating grin that had spread itself over her face. “good. glad i didn’t kill you before i got to fuck you again,” she wrinkled her nose. “kind of a mood killer.”

your eyes widened for a second, and you slowly lifted your head from her knee to look at her vertically now. “romantic,” you whispered, eyebrows furrowing as she slid her hand into yours, and you realised she had meant everything she just said. “babe, you’re serious?”

this earned an utterly casual shrug from the girl. “dead serious.” she rose from the bed, harness still secured around her waist, and helped haul you upright until you were on your feet— albeit on shaky legs. “but, if you’re too fucked out... i can always just shower with you. wash your hair, get between your thighs...” she lowered her chin. “...try real hard not to slip inside you.”

you exhaled, biting your lip; ellie’s eyes dropped, catching the movement— an undeniable tell. she grinned even wider. “see? you’re thinking about it, i know you are.” and her smartass tone of voice made you roll your eyes.

“ellie, i’m half a person right now—” you stopped yourself, still gripping onto her hand with a small smile. “—actually, not even half. a third, at most— and you expect me to go again?”

ellie’s eyes trailed over your face, checking for any signs of real doubt, but she was sure she knew you better than that. “can carry you. if you want?” she dipped her head into the valley between your jaw and your collarbone, peppering small, open-mouthed kisses to the skin that was still a little flushed from your orgasm.

“tempting, for sure.”

she pulled back, just enough to meet your eyes, free hand splayed across your stomach now and the side of her pinky just barely brushing the lace hem of your underwear— still tugged aside, still noticeably damp with your arousal. you inhaled, and ellie noticed, her pupils blown wider. “you’re still so wet, babe. just kinda feels like a waste, mm?”

this comment earned a genuine laugh from you, head falling back for a second as you feigned a groan of hardship — as if having your girlfriend inside you properly beneath a deliciously hot shower would really be such a chore. “okay, fine. but if i fall,” you pointed a finger at her. “it’s on you.”

ellie glanced over her shoulder, already leading you into the steamy bathroom as she spoke. “then fall, babe. i’ll catch you,” she laughed, her gremlin charm working its way out of the cracks as she spoke again. “and maybe— if you’re lucky— i’ll let you land on my cock.”

author’s note: screamsandcries. *insert homophobic dog meme here* i have something extremely homophobic to say!!! no, but... um...what the helly? to be so fucking for real for a sec, this was so unhinged for a 2nd post? i’m actually so sorry? *pulls the mic down* so, i wanna say a sincere sorry to my christian grandmother, but a big, fat, wet you’re welcome to YOU. because you have just been FED! umm. hi! *whispers* this is one of my biggest fantasies icl…. wait? i’ve been here for like 2 weeks (?) and i’m already outing myself... cut the cameras. deadass. oh, also! really quick! thank you endlessly for your kind words and the love you have shown me since being back :( tbh, i was so scared to return to tumblr (more specifically the tlou community) but you guys have reminded me how fun this place can beeee! so thank u sm ♡ okieee, bye for now! hope u loved this, + hope to see u soon!!!