Ct; Nsfw. Ellie X Reader Tribbing Brainrot Blurb. Nsfw Pic Used. No Plot. Horny Streak, You Get The Drill.

ct; nsfw. ellie x reader tribbing brainrot blurb. nsfw pic used. no plot. horny streak, you get the drill. mdni. ⋆˚✿˖°

no thoughts, no solace, just ellie being desperate to cum on your pussy. being enamored by the sheer glimpse of her: rubbing herself so rushed and clumsy on you, nails dug into your flesh to keep you spread on her. “keep it steady, babe. m'almost finished.. mhhnn..” dusk hadn't even befallen the sky; she just couldn't wait. ellie never waits along the passing of the sky—she waits along you.

her hand occasionally dips between the hot, connecting gap of you both to spread her pussy lips, hips flexing into you. when her swollen clit slips through your folds and kisses yours in grinds, your head nearly falls into a plane other-worldly. her fingers quicken you along, and white takes your vision by storm, tiny spots of darkness saturating through. she won't cum without you.

breathless praises to your pussy trickle out of her moans, and each one nearly finishes you early. “my god m'gonna cum,” it's a sensually deadly combination; her heavy groans with the fast pacing of her bush, humping on you. faster, and harder, the bones of the bed creak, and a final comment sends you into spiral. “'ur pussy's gonna make me cum.”

This is how Hannibal looks when he’s visiting crime scenes

☆ 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊 ☆

sub!ellie x dom!reader

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚈𝚘𝚞, 𝙳𝚒𝚗𝚊, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙴𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚝-𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗. 𝙽𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙳𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙴𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝙳𝚒𝚗𝚊'𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙹𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚘, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎.

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝-𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 kind of shitty really bad 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 that i absolutely despise but spent too long on to keep in the drafts 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚒 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝e𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 ♥︎

It's been dark for a few hours now, light pooling into your room from the flicker of a candle and the red lava lamp you stole from Dina's room.

She's gone again and the apartment feels hollow. Still, you're sat at your desk working as the regimented tick of your clock beats on in the background.

A shuffle and the click of a door capture your attention.

Ellie's here. As per usual.

You let out a strained puff of air and swivel your chair around to face the source of the thud that’s now aggressively rubbing her eyes and sitting at the foot of your bed.

“Ellie.”

“Hm?” she croaks out.

“You bored?”

“Hmmm…” She finally looks up from her palms with slightly blood-shot eyes and freckled skin splotched pink to meet your inquisitive gaze.

“Dina said she was gonna watch Back to the Future with me and then she ditched me for Jesse… So, now I’m left with you, the roommate.”

“The roommate, huh? I see how it is. What if I beat your ass? Then what?”

Your attempt to lighten the tired atmosphere lacks much spark, but Ellie’s bored enough to bite. Her green eyes are illuminated by the dim glow of the lava lamp as she waves you off dismissively and, for a split second, they’re flecked with the purest gold you’ve ever seen.

You play it totally cool, with your arm strung over the backrest of your chair nonchalantly, as though you didn’t just witness a scene that will be burnt onto your retinas and play late at night when you’re trying to sleep.

“Pfft, like you could fight anyone.”   

You scoff indignantly, mock offended, and stand up from your seat, leaving it spinning behind you.

“Uhhh, at least I got meat on my bones.”         

“Yeah! And absolutely none of it is muscle.”

“You askin’ me to unleash the beast, E-bone?”

God, you become the biggest dork around her… It's like you both morph into your thirteen year old selves, sitting on Ellie's disheveled bedroom floor after school and bickering about anything and everything until Joel yells up about dinner being done.

Times were simpler. Then, you got older and the buzz you felt each time your hands brushed, which was so easy to downplay, gradually became gaping - virtually impossible to ignore five years down the line. Once the door was open, there was no looking back.

Didn't help that Ellie only got hotter and hotter.

The thought of losing her over something like this makes your stomach writhe inside you though, so you keep the fantasizing to a minimum. Kind of.

The apples of her cheeks puff out rosy in an unrestrained grin, as she announces,

“Bring it, dude. I’d like to see you try,”

“I’m gonna rip your non-existent balls off,”

“Oh, I am just shaking with fear!”

“Fuck off, you little greaseball,”

“Pfft, please, that’s just my aesthetic appeal. You’re gonna have to try harder than that to insult me, bud.”

Your mind flurries with a million responses but the beckoning of your open laptop, begging for your attention before the fast approaching deadline, cuts through the buzz with ease.

Unfortunately, you can’t just ignore it this time. You’ve got less than twenty four hours to complete the soul-draining assignment, and you've spent the last few hours sighing periodically as you looked over the mediocre jargon you’d written so far instead of adding anything.

Great.

But it’s so tempting to forget about the essay completely and let go: focus all your attention onto doing dumb shit with Ellie like you usually do.

“Okay, I do not have time for this, I’ve got a whole ass essay due.”

Ellie sits up with an exaggerated groan, tugging you in by the arm.

“You always have something due!”

“Not always… And, yeah, Ellie! That’s college.”

“Dude. You’re either studying or working all the time and you barely leave this room.”

“Hey, I happen to think it’s pretty cozy in here.”

Ellie rolls her eyes before taking in the contents of the room, scanning the papers and lone items of stationery cluttering, no, invading your cramped desk space.

“Yeahhh… real ‘cozy’ in here. Do you ever clean?”

“Oh, big talk from someone who lives in a literal pig sty! I'm working so this doesn't count. Plus, it’s paper mess, not actual junk.”                 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. At least your bed’s comfortable…"

She turns her head to face you, watching your expression become slightly conflicted.

“Come on, dude, take a break from working for five minutes! Just five!”

You look back at her for a moment, at those eyes you desperately want to please even in the pettiest of situations, and sigh before sitting beside her.

“For the record, it won’t be ‘just five’, and you’re a bad influence on me.”

Ellie chuckles as the bed dips nearby with a soft creak.

“How am I a bad influence? I’m simply encouraging you to relax with me.”

The weird thing about your relationship is that, having been friends for so long, the bickering is intrinsically woven through every conversation you have, and it often leads to the kinds of petty arguments you're having now: the kind that you don't even remember the cause of.

“Uh, yeah?”

“You’re just jealous.”

“Suuuuuure-”

“Shut up, Ellie.”

“No.”

“You know what? Get out of my room.”

“Fine. Asshole.”

The kind of dumbass arguments that Joel would have to come in and alleviate without knowing the cause of either, because it was always something incredibly stupid anyway.

Joel's still back in Jackson though, while the two of you are miles away, and sulking's kinda pointless when there's no one around to see, so Ellie gets back up from her sprawled out position on the living room couch out of boredom and asks if she can come back in.

Same solution you used back when you were 12: you smirk deviously to yourself as you recall the memories before muttering,

“You can come in but you have to sit on the floor.”

Ellie scoffs, recognition evident in the unimpressed raise of her eyebrows. This pissed her off beyond measure back when you were kids, but now it weirdly brings on a sense of nostalgia, so she lets it slide, coming in and suppressing the small smile playing on her lips.

“Fine… Jackass.”

She lowers herself to the scratchy rug beneath your bed and leans against the wooden frame. She’s facing away like she used to too, always trying to avoid the embarrassment of having to look up at you. She still looks up over her shoulder at you with an exaggerated expression anyway though.

“Happy now?”

You look down at her and smirk.

“Very.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You're really enjoyin' this, aren't you?”

“Yep! You know, you’re still so easy to work up. Must be pretty uncomfortable down there, huh?”

“Shut up, asshole. I’m waaaaay more cozy down here. This carpet's amazing; you're missing out. I could fall asleep any second.”

Ellie's voice rasps as she rambles on, looking up at you with those big eyes that make you weak in the knees, and you can't resist the urge to just reach out and ruffle the auburn tufts of hair laying chaotically on her head, smirking as you mutter,

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Ellie’s cheeks almost immediately flush. Her gaze begins to flicker away from you, no longer so unaware of the intricacies of holding eye contact.

She opens her mouth in shock, and then her eyebrow furrow quickly to cover up with a scoff,

“You are such a dick.”

“What? I didn't even do anything!”

“Dude, you do this every time and it pisses me off! You can cuss me out one minute and say you hate me and then be all corny the next?!”

“Okay, that was in the heat of the mo-”

“Yeah, right, 'in the heat of the moment.' You say shit like that every time we argue and you don't even apologize. At least be honest.”

Her expression looks earnest and it makes your heart contract a little tighter, the hot bite of guilt nipping at your insides. But something else stirs too.

You hate how attracted you are to her when she’s frustrated.

This room, with the warmth of body heat and candlelight intoxicating you and the red glow that casts over Ellie’s pretty face, makes the gaze she holds up at you so sweetly drowsier through the obscurant of her thick eyelashes, makes the swell of her bottom lip as she releases it from a harsh bite seem so much more enticing, makes you feel like your inhibitions are strapped to a ticking time bomb.

The pull is electrifying - more than magnetic, and you'd give anything to lay your skin onto hers, to feel each touch, so gentle, ignite your skin, and embrace her wholly. Consume doesn't even seem too strong a word.

“I don’t hate you, Ellie. Here, come sit."

You shift aside and pat the space next to you, watching intently as she huffs and rises to her feet before flopping down beside you.

Unbeknownst to her, all her movements are so much more sensuous now - you’re trying desperately to ignore the sliver of skin that showed as her shirt rode up her stomach when she got up, but it’s almost getting painful.

So much so that you have to physically drag your mind away from it.

“Anyway, have you had dinner yet?”

Ellie blinks a few times, caught in the crossover between the two completely separate conversations as she fumbles her way through a response,

“No, not yet. I was planning on ordering something later though. Why?”

“I’m starving.”

She chuckles and you feel the tense disposition of your muscles physically loosen.

“Oh, you’re hungry, huh? You want me to order food for you too, don't ya?”

“And you’ll do it because you’re the absolute coolest, most awesomest person in the whole entire world, right?”

She smiles softly, "Alright, alright, tell me something I don't know."

As your eyes meet, something in you clicks into place.

Your heart is thumping erratically in your chest. She’s so close; her hands are so near. You could lean in ever so slightly and your lips would meet.

For some reason, something in you is saying that it’s now or never, so the petrifying thoughts of any possible consequence arise again.

It’s realistic to be scared. That’s why you pushed down these feelings away for so long. But, in a moment of clarity, you realise your relationship is strong enough to withhold something like this, even if it would be devastating if Ellie didn’t feel the same way. You’ve known each other since you were children, your childhood homes are only a few houses away from each other, all your friends are friends, and even your parents are friends. There’s no escaping this.

Even if it doesn’t go as planned, you have to take the leap or you’ll never get over her.

“Thank you, Ellie... God, this is gonna take a really long time though, isn’t it?"

“Pfft, you’re such a baby. It’s gonna take like 30 minutes max, just chill.”

You smile, the thumping of your heart becoming supermassive. You can feel it filling your being and surrounding you completely. Then, you mutter,

“Maybe we can keep ourselves entertained in the meantime,”

and the seal is broken.

Ellie is perplexed. From where she sits on your bed, you’ve suddenly become a lot more tense, and your gaze bears into her much more sharply than she’s ever noticed before. But it makes her feel weird… in a good way, and her throat runs dry as she raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“And how do you plan on doing that, exactly?”

You shrug,

“Can I try something?”

“I’m kinda terrified but okay,” she chuckles

You hum, falling into a rhythm, the nervousness so intense that it numbs you.

“Lay back for a second.”

Ellie’s eyebrows draw together with a burning curiosity, feeling a heat rise in the pit of her stomach which seems to answer her unspoken questions.

She know what’s going to happen now, but it feels so surreal, it can’t be.

She shuffles back and lays into the embrace of your pillows, surrounded by the sweet scent of your perfume. She’s been dreaming of this moment as soon as she realized she saw girls differently.

How could she not? You've always been right next to her, and you were perfect in every way - you are perfect in every way. You’re smart, funny, sweet, and she thought you were beautiful as soon as she saw you for the first time, gazing at you with her jaw dropped for, most likely, a few too many seconds. Then it happened again one day when she was 16.

You’d both gone out to get ice cream and she became enraptured by the hazed look in your eyes as the liquid dripped down your chin and over the smooth skin of your hand, your soft hair, tussled by the summer breeze. Her breath caught in her throat as she scrambled to look away. She knew there was no turning back.

But most of all, you’re the one she goes to before anyone else, and it’s always been that way. You’re the only person that brings her a different kind of peace, that indica high, calmer than she feels with anybody else. You’re her girl. Always have been; always will be.

All the playful flirtation and lingering glances - she’d never imagined would really result in this.

 “What now?” she whispers, her voice coming out quieter than she intended for it to, giving her away in an instant. She clears her throat but you can't help but play into her discomfort, pleasure woven through the feeling you get when you make her needy. You already feel a buzz from the fact that she’s not pushing you away or playing you off. This was only ever a daydream in the past, but so, so much better than you'd hoped.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that; you just make sure you’re comfortable. Are you comfortable?”

She stutters through an answer, taken aback by the silkiness of your tone. God, she had dreamed about this so many times and never imagined you so like this, never imagined herself so submissive.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m comfortable… You… You aren’t fucking around, are you?”

“Fucking around? Gonna need you to be more specific, Els.”

She forces a gulp down her now dry throat, looking up at you and she mutters,

“Uh, I don’t know… Like… Like that one time you twisted my arm because you wanted to see-”

She hesitates, cutting herself off, her eyes drifting down to the curvature of your body that she’s wanted to feel for too long for just a split second.

“Can I touch you?” she splutters as soon as the thought enters her mind, overwhelmed with a sudden panic, her eyes flit up again to meet yours, flickering between each pupil in desperate search of any confirmation.

A shudder ripples through her body as your hands move closer, taking the lead before you give her the chance to. Her heart is racing.

“Can I touch you?”

She nods, almost too eagerly.

She curses internally.

You let your hand hover over her shoulder for a moment,

“Hmm, and where is it okay to touch you, Ellie?”

Ellie feels dangerously flustered. She tries to regain her composure, but it’s long gone out the window, and she’s like a handful of clay, soft and malleable, pervious under the sensational pressure of your fingertips.

“Anywhere.”

A soft smile graces your lips.

“Thirty minutes.”

You run your hand down her arm, grazing the skin gently with your nails and then down her stomach to her hip under her shirt, taking time to fully feel the gentle grooves and curves of her body for the first time.

“Is this okay, Ellie?”

She lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of your hand trailing over her skin, goosebumps rising in its wake. She swallows once more before replying, her voice unsteady.

“Yeah… Yeah, that’s fine. It feels… nice.”

“Hmm,”

Then, you place your palm on her ankle and begin to move up, ghosting your hand over her inner leg,

“I want you to tell me what feels good. Okay, Ellie?”

“Y-yeah. Sure. I can… I can do that.”

“Good. Good girl.”

You sit up and straddle her lap, and it catches Ellie off guard, suddenly feeling so much more at your mercy as you stare directly down at her, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her pink ear. Her breath hitches but she instinctively brings her hands to rest on your waist. You lean in to whisper,

“You look comfortable. Are you comfortable? I want you to feel good.”

And she tries to make sense of the fuzz in her brain to answer the influx of questions you’re asking. They’re barely keeping her grounded. Her hands move down to hold your thighs.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. You… You’re making me feel… good.”

“That’s good.”

Though you're dragging it out, teasing her because her neediness makes you wetter, eager to make her eager, you are just as needy, if not more. You're desperate to taste her, to be close to her, to feel her lips moving sensually with yours.

You place your hand over one of hers on your thigh and mutter, your words like the wisp of a feather caressing her skin,

“I’m gonna kiss you, Ellie, is that okay?

Ellie thinks she might die. The way her heart buffered in her chest once she processed your words felt too intense to not be her going into cardiac arrest. Either way, she's happy. What a way to go.

Somehow, all her feelings have culminated in this moment, in something she would never have expected, and her grip tightens to remind herself that that is really your body she’s feeling and this is really real.

She nods slowly, drowsy eyes meeting yours.

“Yeah… Yeah, yes, fuck, y-you can kiss me. Please.”

But, fuck, you just can't help teasing when she looks like she's yearning for you so sweetly that it makes your pussy flutter.

So, instead, you lean forward and kiss her forehead, listening to her labored breaths catch and watching her lips twitch in confusion when you pull back with your hands on either side of her head supporting you. You look her in the eyes and move one of them to caress the red stray hairs clinging to her face away.

“You look so beautiful."

“Th-thank you… You’re…”

It's obvious she's flustered, and it only makes you feel more high, so you pull back and kiss her cheek, mocking,

“Hm? You gonna finish that sentence, Els?”

“You’re- fuck… Y-you’re beautiful… too.”

“That’s my girl.”

You kiss the corner of her mouth and Ellie’s heart is beating hard enough for her to feel like her whole body is pounding as she squirms to lean into your touch.

“Y-your girl?”

“Yeah, Ellie.”

You lean in and finally connect lips, words blanketed by the contact.

“My girl.”

Ellie melts beneath you as you finally kiss her properly. Despite her usual nature, she finds herself completely powerless against the feelings coursing through her body. You’re completely overwhelming her senses, and you’ve never seen her like this.

She wraps her arms around your waist, and presses into the small of your back to pull you impossibly closer as she kisses you back deeply, losing herself in the moment.

You sink into her, deepening the kiss with impatience and roaming your hands along the expanse of her freckled skin while gently rutting your hips into her.  

Ellie moans against your mouth at the pressure, and you use the opening to circle her tongue with your own, making her body arch up into you.

She runs her hands along your sides, her fingers groping the fat of your ass as you grind against her. The sensations are overwhelming, arousal pooling in her underwear as her desire for more continues to grow.

“God… Please…”

You pull back, sealing your thirst with a peck on her lips.

“You’re so good for me, Ellie. You want me somewhere else?”

When she looks up at you, her eyes are clouded with desire. She can’t find the words to express herself properly, the intensity of the moment rendering her speechless, but she pushes through the fog,

“Y-yeah… I need you… more, fuck, please.”

It's blatant that your own arousal is overtaking your need to push her, so you lift her shirt up and place kisses along the soft, velvety skin of her chest, circling her pebbled nipples with your tongue. Ellie lets out a soft gasp at the warm and wet feeling, tingles erupting through her chest, and her body caves to feel the gentle pressure deepen before you get up from her lap and lift her thigh.

She watches you go with wide eyes, following you away by pushing herself up off the mattress in a subconscious attempt to remain close to you. You’re already looking back at her for permission before tugging off her sweatpants,

“You know something, Els?”

Her eyes are dark with desire and her response is hoarse.

“What… what is it?”

“I’m still really hungry.”

You push her leg up and place an anything-but- chaste kiss upon the fat of her inner thigh, watching her shudder and her eyes roll back ever so slightly in pleasure,

“Can you help me?”

Her breath hitches in her throat. She nods once, swallowing hard before replying.

“Yeah... Yeah, fuck. Just... Please,” she thrusts her hips up against you.

You run your fingers down her stomach, over the wispy auburn curls trailing down to her pussy and and over the damp fabric of her underwear, drunk off the sight of her flushed beneath you,

“Do you think you can handle that?”

Ellie's body tenses as she gasps out,

“Y-yeah, I can handle it… Fuck... You're making it really hard to think straight.”

You just smile as you drag her underwear down her legs agonizingly slowly before throwing it aside haphazardly. She watches you lower yourself in front of her pussy and it makes her throw her head back.

It's swollen and glistening, squelching quietly as she tenses above you in hungry pulses, and the exhale of a warm breath over it causes her to shiver. You chuckle.

Ellie bites her lip to muffle a moan, knowing how fucking pathetic it is that she finds it hot when you're mean, and that the breathy melody of your laugh only turned her on even more, when she didn't think that was possible.

“Please, baby…”

You run your tongue over your bottom lip and push your face in to kiss her protruding clit gently, feeling her convulse before you. She wants nothing more than for you to give her the release she craves but, before she knows it, you’re pulling away abruptly, and her throbbing pussy is left dripping again.

“Patience, okay?”

She strains out a scoff with the last shred of sanity left in her and mumbles,

“You're really testing my limits here,”

“What was that, sweetheart?”

Ellie meets your gaze with frustration, her body thrumming with need. Your teasing and the way you tower over her laying body are making her feel insane, making it difficult to get any words out. She swallows hard before replying, her voice slightly breathless.

“I said... You're testing my limits... Don’t tease me... Fuck, you’re such a dick,”

“I don’t think…”

You lean closer and run the tip of your tongue from her hole over her swollen pink clit, smearing her slick up crudely. Ellie squirms, her body taut with need.

“I don’t think I like your tone, baby, do you want me to stop? Is that what you want?”

Her eyes widen as she shifts into pleading,     

“No, no, don't stop. Please... I don't want you to stop. I'm just... Fuck... You're driving me crazy.

“I’m the one who gets to call the shots, okay, Els? I’m gonna need you to say sorry and then maybe I’ll consider giving you what you need.”

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, just... I need you so bad. Please, baby, fuck…”

Ellie feels a surge of impatience, desperate for your touch and frustrated by your insistence on making her wait. She needs you, and she'll do anything to get you to give her what she wants, but what you want is to make her writhe. You kiss her forehead,

“Good girl,”

and then you crawl back to where you desperately need to be: between her legs, and push her thighs up to her chest before burying the lower half of your face into her core without warning, your tongue flexed erotically as you slurp the slick from her pussy like you're starving, flicking your tongue erratically and eagerly.

“Oh, fuck... Just like that... Please, don't stop...”

Ellie’s moans are sweet and debaucherous, with her hands scrambling for purchase, grasping at the wrinkled sheets beneath her when you thrust your tongue into her.

Your eyes never leave her face, watching the way she sinks further into the loss of control, mouth opening wider, eyes rolling back further. You slowly sink a finger, and then another, into her drooling hole with ease, feeling her pussy flutter around you.

The hold you have on her thighs is tightening mercilessly, but you're losing yourself too, untouched and squeezing your legs together to satiate your own ache.

Quickly, intoxicated by the depraved squelching sound filling the room and the suction of her walls taking in your digits, you plunge them deeper, in and out, in and out.

“Oh, oh god... Fuck, baby, please don't stop... Fuck, I'm cumming, I’m-”

Ellie arches her back, lifting off the mattress, her body tensing up as the pleasure builds to a peak within her, faster than you had anticipated. You keep your eyes trained on her, and they meet when she looks down on you, bottom lip red and raw, tugged between her teeth, eyebrows knitted in rapture.

She's completely captivated by you, her body trembling as she teeters on the edge of climax, but the sight of your half-lidded eyes gazing up at her knocks her over the edge with intensity.

She lets out a groan and then a cry of ecstasy, her body trembling beneath you as the intense waves of pleasure wash over her. You don't let up. She gasps for air, her hands rushing to your head to simultaneously push your face into her as she thrusts her hips against you, and pull you away by the hair as the pleasure becomes too much.

Her chest heaves for a moment before reaching a pinnacle in a soft sigh and, gradually, the room floods with silence. Ellie turns her head to gaze at you hazily, eyes honeyed with affection and exhaustion, and she grins toothily,

“That was... amazing... Holy fuck… You're amazing...”

Finally, you lift yourself up and hover over her.

“Yeah?”

Ellie wraps her arms around you, pulling you against her, and the tenderness of it all makes your chest fill with a tingling warmth reserved just for Ellie.

Her body still thrums with the aftershocks of pleasure,

Yeah... Yeah, that was... incredible."     

“You’re pretty cute when you get all flustered, Els.”               

Ellie blushes at your words; you hoped to draw that out of her, and she huffs slightly in feigned annoyance, though it’s completely half-hearted.

“Shut up.”

You chuckle, but it dies out quickly as she looks down at you longingly, elaborating,

“I... don't know if it's kinda late to say this now but... I love you... I mean, obviously, I do, but as... more than just a friend. I've known for a long time, I've just been too scared of ruining things to actually tell you-”

“Pussy-” Ironic.

“Shut up - you know, that is incredibly rich coming from- fuck, forget that, it's been... building for a while now, and, if you feel the same, I wanna take you out... Maybe, next Friday? Or whatever day works for you…”

She pauses before meeting your gaze, her eyes searching yours intently as she mumbles,

“Please say something. Preferably other than ‘pussy.’”

“Ellie.”

“Yes?”

“I love you too, as more than just a friend... I would love to go out with you and thanks for letting me eat you out. That was pretty awesome."

She grins stupidly,

“You're welcome, it was pretty awesome for me too.”

“Nice.”

Ellie smiles, the furious blush unfading on her cheeks as she studies your expression.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you, you little asshole.”                                                        

“Oh, absolutely.”                       

You place a gentle kiss on her freckled cheek and pull back to see the way she grins, but then her face drops.

“Fuck, I forgot to order the food.”

Hey, Ellie, You There?

# 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐓? : ellie williams x fem!reader

# 𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐒 ! : Only dirty things inhereit her mind when she notices you wearing the panties she bought you on this recreational trip to Tokyo. It's all she's thinkin about, that thought-provoking lace of desire. Wants to try it, bite it, lick it, spit it, pull it to the side, and get all up in it.

# 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 : honestly struggled with this one as there's no angst and i've got the itch to write purely angst and fluff, but.. hey.. a little smut never hurt anyone! anyways this is my piece for the brat challenge in this discord server, join if you want to partake in stuff/get sneak peeks on fics.. thanks to @caraphernellie for proofreading <3

# 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 ! : mdni, smut, modicum of plot (take this with a grain of salt), oral (r!receiving), established relationship, absolutely pussydrunk!ellie, switch!ellie (subtop leaning), no decorum, modern universe obviously so riley + jesse never died (yay for riley appearance), mostly just about the smut, messy messy, yeah, petnames used: baby, babe, good girl.

WC: 3.6k+ | MASTERLIST | IMPORTANT | DON'T BUY TLOU

IF EYES COULD UNDRESS

Ellie had never flown outside the States before October.

Japan in autumn is the perfect pocket of time for visiting, loyal tourists say. Noting its capricious spirit; falling back shoulders-first into the hot, cicada summer, which if anything the clicking whines mock the brutal sweating, palming bottles of imitation winter to outwardly parched necks, and stumbling brittle into the cold, pearl-white cries of clouds, aching the bones of everything tangible; it becomes obvious that you should land somewhere in the middle. Autumn is medial there, despite leaning gently towards the glossary of the year.

October was designated the month of living it up.

Letting loose in a foreign country.

Talk of escaping Jackson—while not a serious, eloping sort of hustle you whisper inside dark gaps of midnight—kept inspiriedly sparking and sparking from Jesse until he could condition everybody to a date, place, and gathered cough-ups and petty cash he could scrape from his home floors.

She, of course, freshly mulleted and on the lookout for your infinitely loving days, galloped after you. You go, she goes.

Tickets of your name and hers lived in your hearth-brown lockbox for a summer; the idea interested you easy, and whenever you go, Ellie is strung by a leash to; puppy-trained.

You knew your money set-aside was kept on your mind's line for one purpose and one purpose only: Tokyo, the plane there. But during a violet, tender spring morning, a few feet into the bathroom, you felt the crisp quiet crackle at your nape, and her body moor in to press you hotly.

“One trip to Tokyo..” she whispers. There was a drumroll pause and her right hand lifted between you and the mirror, a fingerhold of two tickets covering your face. “Coming up!” She had squealed it so softly quiet, so huskily, so promptly marked by a chuckle, you forgave her in that moment for securing the tickets under your radar. Forward your intentions.

Then, October and Tokyo came.

Her bag was a medley. Camera, comics, hair ties, caps, glasses, that stupid sock monkey, old crosswords Joel never consummated; aside essentials, and quite unessentially systemless; socks and sock monkey stored together. Okay, maybe there's a pun to it.

Where her mind took you two, however, was very organized and pre-contemplated.

Shibuya City. Fashion central, the ultimate juncture of crossroads, pandemonium at its greatest count, and it played deliberate cat and mouse with her wallet. Hand in hand, inside a lingerie store down the grand crosswalk, a surrounding of laces and ladies' ligatures in thought-provoking shapes ran her mind into the deepest gutter. One look at the darkest, laciest pair (with the little bows) of panties, and her hand was playing thumb-wars with her pocket for her wallet. You had the money! Had your reservations and expenses lined like stallions in a stable, but Ellie: a hades-bent girl bent on paying every picayune thing forward, insisted the ticket, and now this lacy thing of sex appeal, as a gift and nothing more than your sake.

Speaking of sex, one could imagine, “Just a gift to add to your humoungus collection, maybe more special though since I bought them. Think you'd look good in 'em, no?” is an evasive mouthful of wordage and awkward neck-rubs that really just translates to, “Wanna see these on you, babe.” Or maybe the puncture of her heavy breath and currant-redness of her taken expression eyeing as you hold the pair to your hips, low-lidded, lip-licked, read honestly instead as, “Gotta take them off you, yeah? Please?” Always a cherry-on-top girl.

Please, please, please.

Yeah, she bought them, and yeah, you'll wear them. Days after the threshold of your trip, tonight is the night. Bottom of the pit; living like a disaster; shots poured for everyone, by everyone.

Tonight, you tear new lace.

Laughter convenes at the place fruitions of humor normally do: the dining table. Low on the tatami, pillowed on the outskirts, it made a neat area of function for a messy laurel of people.

Dina, by far, was the messiest, most pell-mell in the manner she refurbished shot glass after shot glass for Riley: one amoung the rowdiest who challenged Jesse to a bet of 'who would fall off the wagon first; who could stay as sober as a judge?' Get a personal question wrong, you drink to your errors.

Two leaves in the laurel drank up the riveting theatrics instead, not so much the alcohol. Ellie and you, you and Ellie; mumbling about somethings in the dark of statures, rarely turning your eyes from the others at game—at least from your perspective. She could have been staking her seconds to count the hairs on your nape, writing lyrics over the features awake in her sightline, spilling her thyme greens and rainforest limbals into your skin, undressing your whispers. You wouldn't know.

Until she inevitably makes herself obvious.

“New earrings?” That crisp voice again, cracking where your head can only turn. She retires the singular silence with it, sparking up conversation with whatever she could muster, whatever she could see. “Kinda looks like a pair you already got.”

Ellie is pretty damn observant. Nothing goes unnoticed—not even the nominal shifts in your vast expression. So when you give her your eyes before your words, she knows there's an unspoken tease in sightly tensions. “Mhm. Wore everything I bought here so far to the concert earlier.”

“Yeah, noticed that too.”

Observation surpasses way beyond the slatted blinds of her simple lust. There is art, there is health. Her own eyes give themselves to thanking each meridian of your skin for being out to view tonight. She remembers every limb for midnight: the angle, the fragility, the firmness, limning for a page in her journal. An artist needs their intrepid eyes before their pens. She traces, and traces, down and down until her eyes find the shadow of lace.

She remembers that lace very well.

The corners of her lips crease up. “Those the panties I picked out for you?” Surprised with shy pride.

Her eyes drag from the beltline of your pants to where the lace pokes out, slowly undressing you. Then, her quiet thumb follows along, feeling over the drooping boundary of lace that sinks between and under your denim. All you can see are her eyes downturned, lashes and lids so focused, so content with the feel-good consequence of buying those panties. The things she could do with them heating her mind.

Fuck, if eyes could undress you.

“You mean the ones you took a gazillion pictures of me in when I tried them on?”

“Well when you put it like that—I mean, you looked good in them.” She scatters quick into a fluster, abashed to even face you now. “Fuck, shouldn't have said anything.” Her smile crinkles.

“Truth and drinking don't mix.” That in itself is a truth, spoken by none other than a young adult; the cliche age reckless abandon should inhabit the feasting teeth of. “Blame the alcohol.” You toss back another velvety shot, punctuating that accusation.

Guile is the furthest thing from Ellie. She could not be more public, more unsubtle about what that tangle of lace does to her. Make her stomach flip? Wash her freckles in bleeding raspberries? Still her thumb on your hip? Make her lovingly sick? The list grows as it goes, and each nuance pointed toward her surrender to simple lust; biting back, sucking breath one moment, avoiding your face and brushing her lips over your warm lobe the next.

Another confession falls from them. “Been thinking about them all day.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Yeah,” she squeaks weakly, voice barely attending.

Ellie can never resist a bit of lace.

Then, she softly droops herself with a bashful grin into where your neck carved room for her, laughing away her kisses. “Best present ever, I think.”

Spoiled, is how you felt. To have her feeding on your neck, blissful indulgence, sweating out sweetly in the corners of your jaw, which she gladly crept up to, you graciously sit still for her tongue. You go clean without pry; keeping an eye on the others at the table. They seem to be too entertained by drunken parlor games to notice. And that felt lucky, as her persistent thumb turns into hungering fingers, and soon enough her palms are kindly filling with and groping your hip, one finger tucked under the lace. Her signature; hesitantly asking you where she could get with this.

“Can't wait?”

“Sorry,” she uses her tepid breath to speak into your neck, weakly giggling. The vibrations of them ripple. “I can't help it.”

“Come on.” You climb your digits over her ductile knuckles, cradling her hand into yours. “Why don't we turn in for the night?”

“Yeah. Sounds good,” she spoke soft with eagerness, excitement, a little bit louder than the breaths before.

That thirsty sort of sensation in your hollows, your throat and your obscure, obscene and sordid thoughts that gulp to be filled with a desire come true; desperate breaths.

Yeah, she knows that feeling all too well.

Her crossed legs clasp in, and shovel under into a kneel, pushing herself as you beckon her to get up with a telling, ghostly tug. She straightens out and sticks close: close as you stand, close as you cross a few feet to part dirty, droplet-trickled shot glasses onto the counter, close as you say your goodnights.

Ellie kept quiet. Ellie went smoothly. She, pumped to the limits of her heart, drooped her head to the ground where her excited eyes could toss however, and wherever they want. Where she could glimpse into obscure corners, and think about it again. The lace; the baroque, busy, enticing and tasty lace. The fabric that has her teeth grinding into her lip as it builds a hot pressure between her legs. It hisses alongside her repeating thoughts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Think I'm gonna head to bed, now. Lightweight over here breached her soberness already and won't stop drooling on my shoulder.” You even nudge it against her to puncture the emphasis, and the table understandingly laughs. “Night guys.”

“Night, enjoy the snoring!” Riley blurted, sarcasm-infused and drunkenly.

Yeah, totally going to sleep, totally checkin' out.

Mind your business everybody.

CAN SHE FIT IT?

What happens when the brain-slosh of a pussydrunk mess is met with the perfect bareness of a pretty bit of lace?

Ruination.

I said you would tear new lace, just not like the hostile, hungry and hopeless fantasy that sentence immediately evokes to mind. If anything, she might almost rip those panties off of you, but Ellie is a good listener; she submits you authority and mellows her lips at your thigh, inexplainably soft under your many holds, parched and waiting difficultly.

Your fingers poured through piles of auburn, looping, under and over, pulling and perching firmly on the very center. It offers you leniency. It promises you control. However, against good listening, in the palm of your hand is an eager girl with even more eager eyes, hooded and heavy, and that eagerness is trickling out in these little mumbles against your still thigh that you concieve only by their repitition. As expected, she is impatient.

“Please?” Ellie would say again, as every other rehearsal: pouty eyes, untie a kiss, watch you watch her, look down and mumble another plead, and her do her pouty beginning again.

Aching is the patience.

Fists bite at the sides of your hips. “I've been so patient. Babe, come on..” Her loose, open mouth drags along your skin, baring a manifestation of deprivation: a painful hiss. “Shit..”

“Aw, sucks, doesn't it?” You relish and adore this disgustingly, even your giggles are lighthearted and corrupt. God, what isn't to love about a girl on her knees, toughing it out to taste you? Absolutely nothing.

You're fucking soaked.

“Yeah,” she scoffs, and jokingly reproaches you. “Sucks when my girlfriend is being a tease and won't let me help her out or anything.” Ellie figured all this necking and desperation-milking had done something to you—something she wants to fashion into persuasion, something she is on the precipice of, eyeing the lace over your crotch. “Fuckin' wet, aren't you?”

That sounded like a hard sell. Pointing out the obvious to win you over, but you play along loosely to pity her. “Mhm,” your hum vibrates through a smirk, inviting yet ingenious. “Is that what you mean by helping out?”

“Obviously.” Those fingers at your hips soften, and tuck into the waistband of your panties, easing it down an inch. “Can I?”

“Mh-mm,” you deny and shoo her hands off. “Through my panties first.” You station a thumb behind her head, nudging her closer to that lewd warmth. “Okay?”

She gulps, she quivers, and her mouth splits open, considering your request carefully. “Fuck,” she curses quietly, a curse she sinks into her damp, compliant lips as she corners in darkly. Drooping her tongue, half her face disappears into wet lace divine, and presses a hot stroke into you.

It felt increasingly fired, her tongue on you. Fabric trapped the summer of lust inside, so when she latched her own huffing mouth, and now is painstakingly savoring you through it, the tempature makes you keen; softly humming satisfaction. “Mhh, there you go, Ellie,” you shower your whisper all around her, watching her begin, begin without satanical abandon. “Just like that.”

Just like you asked.

She starts with a genuine hold-back. Her lips purse, and fit the shape of your pussy deeper in, moaning as she sucks the slick and disconnects her mouth to lick it from her drool, but she only goes that far.

Not a drop goes neglected.

She laps you again, and has to sink her eyes shut when your taste—barely there, stifled aromas of sex—overtakes her, and she has to clench her brows together, impulsively grunt, and bite your panties into a pull, giggiling when it snaps back. “Hmhm, can I touch you? Please?”

“No baby.”

Seduction is cruel. There you are, flaunting it in her face, and yet you still have the brass to restrict her. Ellie loathes it, but only partially shows that she does in wry smiles. “Really babe?” Her lips shift crookedly, and her thumbs prod themselves in the inner-top of your thighs; progressing sub rosa. “What do I have to do for this?” She enroots a kiss, just above your clit, smushing her buttony nose.

“Be patient,” you reply, and tug her head back kindly. An authorative gesture, one she winces and hazes her eyes at. “Show me how bad you need it first, yeah? Be a good girl?”

And, fuck, did you speak so sweetly; her brain might already be flourished in rot at this point. But then, you bring your hands away and tuck your waistband a whisper lower—barely lower than your navel, and her eyes narrow. She leaps right into sugar. Indulging vulgarly.

She litters you in kisses above the elastic, adorning your groin. “Mhh—mhh, 'm a good girl.”

“Whatever you say..”

Ellie reiterates. “Know I am.” Soft and muffled in the skin she would hate to leave unmarked, her lips leading shamelessly downward again. She soaks the lace with her tongue, and her slow, hot breath, melts the lace away in her imagination. Melts it away as she feels your clit, thumping on her warm toungework.

This made you content: watching her work in action.

When she swallows back her tongue after seconds of latching, you expect another persistant retaliation. But all you hear is the sound of her throat hawking, then her spitting. Smack-dab, right on your crotch. Frothy and trickling, she is quick to lather it through your folds, tip of her tongue pushing the lace in between. The noise, the lack of decorum, and pressure of her mouth alone made your hips twist with insufferable pleasure.

“Fuck..”

Possibly the dirtiest thing Ellie has ever done.

She can tell it weakened something in you, driving her to do it again. “Mhm?” she questions your reaction, and spits, using her fingers to splay your pussy and rub it through. Despiting your requests. “Did you like that?”

“Ellie—”

No answer to her meek, hopeful question can leave your lips before her head is searching for consequences again: shoving all of her that is restless onto your clit and moving side-to-side. Licking and licking, saving the saltiness of your arousal for late-night memories, she numbs your mind with the way her tongue drags and refuses to stop dragging. To unravel you, she wove in her own pleasure—confident, enraptured sounds—moaning into your pussy as if it were grinding into hers. With enough imagination, it was. But your timidly intoxicated minds combined make the best of your situation; dirty wanton and thin liabilities telling her to go beyond and lick you into a scream.

She makes you gasp, “Oh, Ellie..” and cast your head against the wall. Balance falls from you, finding support in gripping her hair. It came on so fast—the sensations, the thrill. It changes you like desire transforms an angel. Her tongue challenges, and challenges, and it feels like a replacement for the alcohol you never consumed. It rushes your blood.

It convinces you as intended.

That climbing tension in your stomach was not long tolerated. Eventually, the lace seperating you and her became an obstacle in your mind. “Fucking hell.” You make a split-second revision, sacrificing your game of denial. “Go ahead,” you say, intriguing her to glance. “Just fuckin' eat me, please.”

Shaky exhales pierce her throat, and when your leg pivots out for her access, she has to suck the air right back in. “Jesus, babe.” A cocksure smile crosses her lips, and an even more sure thumb pulls the tongue of your panties aside. “Took you long enough.”

“Shut up.”

Ellie lingered under you for a second to take in the raw sight of you, a glistening, excited mess. It all backfired; all of your denying and teasing had potent effects on you—maybe, you more than her, leaving you at the grasp of your evasions but simultaneously on the chase after your wantings. Arousal throbs uncomfortably in your core without forgiveness, and you couldn't be more glad now that your most favorite girl in the world is beyond aching to relieve it.

“Yeah,” she scoffs. “Fuckin' wet.”

She kisses your cunt like a thankful prayer before you feel her tongue take the first, greedy, heady, long-drawn and self-indulgent lick of you. Her tongue swipes through, prodding the edge of your perineum and stroking up. Taking these savored laps of your slick and quirking her brows agreeingly. Bumping your clit mindlessly and making you shiver. Letting it pool and drip around her open mouth, so when she pulls away to show you her spit-strings of work, filthiness is what springs to mind.

Her bottom lip pulls through her teeth, cleaning up all your juices. Proudly. “Tastes so fuckin' worth it,” she whispers, and without a warning, she gets all up in it again. Forcing your legs even more apart with her head and her vigor, rolling those same aching circles into your clit and sending this delicious pricking down your calves.

“Yes—yes!” She ruins your voice. ”Just like that, good girl. Fuck..”

“'M' your good girl?”

“Y-yes, s-such a good.. mhh..”

Throat tight, lungs shallow, your words and your wails cannot catch up with each other. Despite the tipsiness, she is well fucking coordinated. In moments, there are faint, sloppy sounds of her licking you, giddy pressures of her fingers compressing parts of you, coercing you to come, right into her mouth. She makes you want to grab her head, and you do, roughhousing her into the neediness of your core.

“So good with that.” A treasured compliment from you speeds her up, having to tear her fingertips into the plump of your ass to keep her tendencies busy. Otherwise, they might end up somewhere on herself. “Fuckin' l-love you.. oh my god.”

Ellie flicks her tongue at an urgent pace, smacking your clit over and over, and directs her strangely ignited, northern-light eyes up, and they ask you wordlessly.

Are you close?

Mhm.

Fuck, babe.

Her eyes shut takenly.

A conversation of the eyes is all Ellie peered up for to impassion herself. Your legs clasp in, and she does nothing. She lets them. She invites them; rubs them, gropes them when your panties try to close her off. She glories in having your legs hug her, relying on her, inflicted by her. Even she, the product of all this pleasure, is shaky and involuntary, pushing on you as she tries to almost swallow you—swallow your pussy.

Then, she pictures that lace again in her mind, and she begins to beg.

“Please, please, please..” Having broken away to speak, she snaps back on you again, tugging and teething and exhausting the vibrations of her pathetic moans until you could feel them in your own. “Mhh, mhh, fuuck..” She makes out with your clit, wrapping her pretty pink lips and smilining so graciously; she knew this would kill you.

It does.

It faultlessly does. “Ellie, Ellie, Ellie..” Her perfect, practiced lips, which widen more when your hips twitch in overstimulation, get her where she wants. You arch into her, riding out your orgasm on her face, which she engages in. Winding her nose up and down until your cum lined each nostril, each lip corner, and made her smell like nothing but you.

Blissful indulgence, you say?

Definitely.

Ellie drags an unyielded lower lip up your slit, and one last time, whines into your sopping core. “Thank you, thank you, thank you..” Licking a final stripe as she emerges up from between your legs, tired-looking and red-cheeked, your thigh becomes her head's silky resting place. Acting like she went through trial and tribulation for this. She pants, “That was.. really amazing, huh? Yeah?”

You are responseless. Recovering? Overwhlemed? Dizzy in the eyes? None of those; you're only pondering what to do next with this bundle of limitless opportunity.

“Babe?” She jabs your thigh, foraging for attention.

As always.

“Hmm?”

Her hand molds into your hip, caressing slowly. “What now?”

Choices cross you quick. “Hmm, bath, probably.”

“Ooh, can I join?”

Always following after you.

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losing game pt. 2

part two as promised and all u need to know is that ellie’s a little subby until she gets to touch you but she’s still soft (so im giving u dom bottom ellie)

whats in here: cunnilingus e!receiving overstim e!receiving tribbing/scissoring and the ittiest bittiest hint of face sitting (yk i think ellie is a lover for having her gf sit on her face)

part one

read me click me

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Then you turned your head, catching her lips for a brief moment before she pulled back. There was a moment of hesitation, neither of you able to speak before she pressed her lips to yours. They were still cold from being out in the snow, but they warmed as you kissed her back, pressing your body impossibly closer to hers as she sighed into your mouth. She couldn’t tell you how long she had wanted this, but she knew it was long enough that her waiting for you was pathetic.

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She walked you backward toward your room, the faint sound of her music and the memory of your apartment guiding her as she refused to break the desperate kiss between you. You knocked into an end table, and she put her hand out to stop you from hitting the wall as she pushed you against it. Her hips pressed into yours, your stomach fluttering as you held her face in your hands and tilted your head. You deepened the kiss and her hand drifted down to your back as her leg slid between yours. She pulled you forward, and your hips were pressed against hers, closer this time. The minute she heard the quietest of whines from you she guided you to your room and to your bed. 

She knelt between your legs, hands running down your thighs and pulling your legs up as she lowered herself down. That was when she broke the kiss, looking between your thighs with heavy breaths. She looked back up at you, eyes searching for confirmation. You nodded and she couldn’t help the smile that came to her face. 

Ellie sat back on her heels when you reached for her face, fingers coming up to touch her lips, now hot and swollen as she looked down at you, your hand resting, instead, on her waist. Her eyes drifted to your shirt, merch from when she was still a part of your team. Her hand traced the image of her guitar, right over the left side of your chest. She felt your heart rate quicken as you looked down at her hand. 

“I want to think you did that on purpose,” she muttered. 

You nodded, taking her hand and making her place it flat on your chest. “You say that like you don’t know how much I loved you.”

“Loved,” she repeated, huffing a laugh, but she didn’t question it. “I was in love with you. I didn’t even think you liked me.”

“I always said you were an idiot.”

She smiled, hands drifting to the hem of your shirt. You nodded when she looked up at you, that meaningful quiet settling again as she lifted it over your head. Her hands twitched as they brushed your bare skin, nothing under your shirt. She took in a slow breath, eyes falling to your bare breasts. She was reminded of times you flashed the audience, laughing nonsensically and jumping to the beat of your wild music, but this was nothing like that. This was raw, bare and beautiful, precious, and very, very private. There was no audience to fawn over you or encourage you. You were laid in front of her in a way where you were just a girl she was in love with, shying away from her eyes as she tossed your shirt to the floor. 

As soon as she saw your hands coming up to shield your body from her she grabbed them. “No,” she muttered, leaning down to kiss your lips. “No, you’re beautiful.” She threaded your fingers together. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

She kissed your cheek, then jaw. Her hands found their way to your waist as she kissed your neck, reveling in the moan you let slip when her tongue dragged across your skin. She lied on top of you, hips moving slowly against you as she sucked a dark hickey on the base of your neck, pecking feather-light kisses around it when you whimpered. 

“Sorry,” she muttered, feeling your hips squirm with the way she nipped and sucked at your skin. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

“Leave as many as you want,” you said, giving her permission that she happily took for granted.  

She moaned as she left marks across your chest, kissing down and leaving a trail until she reached your breasts. Her tongue dragged over top of one, but not like she used to. She circled her tongue around your nipple, feeling you shudder and running her hands up and down your sides to soothe you. She brought a hand up to your other breast, massaging gently and using her thumb and pointer finger to twist your nipple. She felt you inhale, gasping and arching into her. She quickly snaked her hand under your back and held you in that position, pressed so close to her that she could feel you breathing against her. 

She itched to get her clothes off, to feel your skin against hers, but she was too enthralled with the way you were reacting to her to stop. Her lips sucked your nipple into her mouth, teeth biting gently and making you groan. 

The minute your hands went to her back, grasping the fabric of her hoodie, she sat up to pull it off, reluctantly detaching herself from you to do so. You reached up, feeling her toned body until your hands reached her breasts. You were gentle, fingers gliding over her pebbled nipples to make her sigh, hips twitching in anticipation. 

“Sensitive?” You asked, cupping your hands around her and kneading much harsher than she did. 

“Don’t tease me.”

“Oh, is that an order?” You laughed as her hands felt up your arms, resting on your hands and making you practically grope her. “You look so pretty guiding me,” you muttered. You didn't mean for it to come out sensually, only observing, but the way her cheeks flamed as she looked at you told you all you needed to know. “Okay…” You sat up. “I get it.” Your hand went to her back as you turned her over, straddling her as you lied her down. “I won’t tease you anymore. Promise.”

You moved off of her, fingers going to her sweatpants. You looked up at her. “Please,” was all she had to say to get you to take them off, sliding them down her legs with her underwear before she kicked them off haphazardly. “I need you,” she continued, hands reaching for your arm and pulling you down. She kissed you, needy. “However I can have you. Do whatever you want to me, I don’t care,” she was rambling between kisses, meeting your lips like she couldn’t bring herself to stop. “I just need you,” she repeated, even needier, whining.

“I know,” you muttered against her lips. “I know, Ellie, I’ve got you…” You soothed, pecking her lips. “I got you.” She lifted her head, following you as you pulled away, and you had to push her back as you trailed kisses down her body. You stopped at her stomach, watching her muscles tighten as she tried to control her breathing. She was getting so worked up, and you grabbing her hips as you started leaving marks all over her stomach didn’t help. 

“Fuck,” she moaned, hips fighting against your grip and squirming. She shuddered when you licked a line from her pelvis to her belly button, eyes rolling back blissfully. 

You lowered yourself to her cunt, lying flat on the bed and bringing one of her legs over your shoulder. “You’re so pretty,” you muttered, kissing her inner thigh. You left a mark, kissing around it as she sighed. “You can let go,” you told her, “let me make all this up to you… take care of you. I want to.” You knew she’d fall apart, and this time you’d be there to hold together all the pieces. 

She nodded as your one hand held her thigh and the other rested on her abdomen. 

You took that as your okay, licking up between her folds and feeling her hips buck against your tongue. Her muscles tensed, aching hole clenching around nothing as you pressed a kiss to her clit. 

“Relax,” you told her, stroking her thigh. “I won’t do anything if you’re too tight.” She shut her eyes, breathing slowly and relaxing into the sheets. “There you go.” You gave her an encouraging kiss on the inside of her hip, making her hips jolt. You chuckled. “Whoops.” She rolled her eyes at you, scoffing as her hands went over top of yours. 

You gave her one last kiss on her thigh before dipping your tongue inside her. You moaned at her taste, feeling her stomach tighten at the feeling your voice spread through her pussy. She fought not to moan, not wanting to be too loud, but you were licking up her wetness like it was water and you went all day without it. You pressed your face into her cunt, not even starting what you knew she needed and just indulging yourself in the sweet taste of her as you gripped her thigh and pulled her closer. You left her leg on your shoulder alone but pushed the other open so you could taste her even deeper. 

Her mind was turning into a puddle of nothing at the way you lapped at her, her hands squeezing yours as she barely let strangled moans slip from her perfect lips. Her hips started to roll against you, involuntary, and you pulled back. “I know,” you muttered, “I know what you want, you just taste so good,” you said breathlessly, mouth covered in her wetness. “I don’t want to stop.”

“Don’t make me ask you for this,” she muttered, looking down at you and your dark eyes, drunk off of her. 

“I won’t…” You reluctantly assured her. “Not this time.” She smiled. “You just gotta let yourself be a little louder for me, alright?” She nodded slowly. “How else will I know I’m making you feel good?” She swallowed, the way you said it making her throat dry with need. “And I should know. It’s only fair… Right?”

“Right,” she said without thinking. 

You focused your attention on her clit then, using your thumb to pull back her hood and lick the exposed bundle of nerves. She arched away from you, an involuntarily loud moan coming from her that made you smile as you continued. She wasn’t able to silence herself now, your tongue pulling the prettiest sounds from her as you relentlessly, skillfully licked and massaged until she was melting into your hands. Sweat beaded on her skin as her hips squirmed, but you didn’t let up, even as she moaned your name and pushed at your hands. 

She came quickly, whining as her hips bucked, twitching uncontrollably thanks to you, but that was what you wanted, finally stopping and making a harsh breath fall from her lips. It was followed by a moan as you delved your tongue back inside her, swallowing down her orgasm and moaning against her. She couldn’t help but moan at the vile way you got what you wanted, pulling it from her so quickly that she couldn’t even think straight. She was breathing heavily, a complete mess as you licked and sucked at her entrance until pearly white wetness pooled out of her cunt. She groaned, arching her hips toward you as you pressed your face into her and moaned, so satisfied that she couldn’t help but think of what a mess you were making of yourself. 

You’d decided it was time for more before she could even get the chance to speak, sucking her clit into your mouth and making her groan as you shut your eyes in bliss. Your tongue did the same expert flicks as before, only this time she was even more of a mess. Cream dripped from her hole as it clenched, aching to be filled. She squeezed your hand to tell you what she wanted, but you batted her hand away. You already knew, and you weren’t giving it to her yet. She whined, moving her hand to grip your hair and making you moan against her as you opened your eyes to look up at her. The moment she met your eyes she was falling apart, but you didn’t stop. 

You released her thigh, easily sliding two fingers inside her drooling pussy. You giggled, adding a third like it was nothing as you released her clit so you could watch the way she sucked your fingers in, stretching so easily that she probably didn’t even realize you put in three. You curled your fingers, moaning at the sound it made before your mouth went back to her clit, licking at the same pace you curled and uncurled your fingers. You pushed them deep inside her, past her g-spot and making tears collect in her eyes when you curled your fingers again. Her vision was spotted, and when you pressed down on her lower stomach she couldn’t help the string of moans that left her mouth, continuous and like a fucking song as she cried your name over and over like it was bringing her closer and closer to coming. 

Her hips were writhing on your sheets but you didn’t hold her still as she lost her composure, not even able to speak with the way you were fingering her senseless. Her ears were ringing and no matter how much she gasped in air, you were stealing it from her with every swipe of your tongue. She was almost there, feeling that pressure in her belly, but it was different this time. You were giving her so much, overwhelming her so much that she couldn’t come until you pulled her fingers from inside her. She gasped a moan, nearly screaming as her hips jerked and the tension in her stomach snapped with her release. 

Her orgasm squirted onto you, on your chest, in your mouth, all over your face, and you lapped it up like that was exactly what you wanted. It was exactly what you wanted, and as you cleaned her up she was still, groaning as her hips twitched weakly. 

You pulled back, sticking your fingers in your mouth and cleaning off every last drop of her as you watched her try to catch her breath. You ran your hand over her stomach gently, soothing her and kissing her thigh as her breathing calmed. 

“What the fuck,” she muttered after a moment, still breathless. “Fuck,” she sighed. “Fuck…” She was staring up at the ceiling. “I’m fucked…” You laughed at her, kissing her hip as you made your way up her body. “I’ll never stop thinking about that.” She grabbed you by the waist, telling you to, “Come here,” so she could kiss you. She kissed all over your face, neck, and chest, cleaning up her mess as you grinned. “You proud of yourself?” She laughed at you. 

“Fuck yeah,” was your response. “You’re so hot.” You could tell she was tired, giving her one last peck before you pushed yourself up. “I’ll be right back,” you said, but she grabbed your arm. 

“Where are you going?” She pouted up at you. 

“Just to the bathroom. I’m gonna get stuff to clean up—“

“But…” Her eyes fell to your pajama pants, an old pair of hers she’d forgotten months ago. “Do you not want me to touch you?” You frowned. “You didn’t finish.”

“You’re tired.”

“Fucked out… Not tired.” She pulled you back on the bed. “Just sit on my face.” You shook your head. You had a feeling she’d give you even worse of a relentless treatment than you gave her. “Then ride me.” You looked between her legs. She was swollen, but she was wet, turned on just from looking at you. “I want you on top.” You could feel your body heating as she put her hands on your hips. When you nodded, she pulled your pants down with your underwear, watching as you tossed them aside and got back on the bed. You looked at her warily as you brought one knee between her legs, hands on her hips to position her. “I want this with you,” she said earnestly. “I want you.” Her eyes fell between your legs, seeing the wetness that trailed down your thighs. 

Mannerless, she reached out, fingers running up your slit and collecting your wetness. Your hips jerked at the sudden touch, eyes glued to her hand as she brought it to her mouth. She moaned as soon as her fingers hit her tongue, licking you off of her as she eyed your cunt. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit on my face?” She asked tactlessly. You just stared at her, blinking dumbly. “Next time,” she muttered, but couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. “Fuck, are you sure?” She asked again. 

“Next time,” you agreed and she looked so happy that you couldn’t help but smile, laughing before you looked back down at her pussy, yours hovering just above. 

“Go on, I’ll help you,” she encouraged, hand on your hip. “I want to feel you.” She was getting needy for your pleasure now that her needs were fulfilled, dominance coming through her desperation as she eyed you hungrily. “Please, don’t make me wait,” but it wasn’t the same way she requested something from you before, she was demanding, but trying to sound as nice as possible. 

You let out a breath as you lowered yourself down, adjusting her until you both felt pressure against your clit. You moaned, biting down on your lips and focusing between your thighs as you slowly rocked your hips. The feeling was so new, so foreign, and so good that your legs were shaking within minutes. You gripped her thigh, pulling it higher on your waist to get a better angle and she just let you handle her how you wanted. 

“You look so fucking — ah — so fucking good,” she praised, hips jerking from overstimulation. She watched you as your mouth fell open, eyes focused on your bodies, pressed together. “You’re so fucking cute.” She was so focused on you, watching the concentration on your face to make sure you were feeling good, that you had to look up at her when you got frustrated. You felt like you weren’t doing it right, and she could tell. “Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, voice cooing. 

“Like… fuck,” you groaned when you lost the sensation, whining, “like what, Els?” Just that made her grab your waist, flipping you over. She pressed your legs open, using the one in front of her to put pressure into as she grinded against you. She spread her legs, sinking onto you as your hips bucked. “Oh! Fuck, Ellie!” You couldn’t control the way your body reacted to the sudden switch as she groaned, doing her best to ignore the feeling of overstimulation and pleasure you how you deserved. 

“That feel good?” She was asking to make sure it did, not at all teasing you and smiling at the way you nodded and moaned. Still, you watched between your legs, propped up on your forearms to see. “Good. Keep watching what I’m doing. This is what you wanna do, yeah?” You nodded. “Ever done this before?” You shook your head. She was glad to be your first. “That’s okay. keep your eyes on me.” She could feel your cunt pooling, and she couldn’t wait to have you back on top, feeling your wetness soak her. “Uh-uh, eyes open. Don’t look away,” she told you when your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut, tapping your thigh to make you pick your head up. “Eyes on me. Watch how I’m fucking you.” Her hips rolled against yours, slow and teasing to make you look back at her. 

“No, do what you were doing before,” you practically whined, hands on her hips to push her into grinding harder against you. 

“There you go,” she sighed. “Take control, baby. I’m letting you.” You gripped her hips as you moaned at the way she spoke to you, making you fight not to just let her use you. She caught on, urging you to keep your composure until you gave her what she wanted, “Tell me how you want it.” She followed the way your hands guided her. “Show me,” she said when you muttered, “faster.” She felt your hips start to move, watching the way your face twisted in pleasure rather than focus. She was getting what she wanted now. “Think you can get back on top?” She asked, gentle, easing you in. 

When you nodded, she asked if you were sure. “I want to,” you assured her, desperate. She held you close to turn you over this time, lying you down so gently that you kissed her cheek to reciprocate the softness she gave you. 

You followed what you watched her do, pressing her legs open and sinking onto her, but you stayed close to her, moaning in her ear as she held you and kissed your neck and shoulder. She could feel your wetness dripping onto her, and it made her thoughts swarm. Her hips rose into yours and it was the perfect position. You moved your hips faster against her, sinking your teeth into her shoulder to muffle how loud you were getting. She just ran her hands all over you, soothing you as you chased your orgasm, and reveling in the feeling of your pussy on hers, covering her in your arousal. Her hips twitched and you held back, keeping yourself at the edge and driving her crazy with the way you whined. 

“What are you doing, baby?” She asked softly, but her hands were rough, making your hips move faster. 

You moved your arm down to press her closer into you, and she understood what you were trying to do. “Come with me,” you said in a breath against her neck. 

She moaned, and you could feel her clit pulsing against yours as she started to grind, your voice sending chills down her spine. Once she got close, you let yourself finish, kissing all over her neck as you moaned senselessly and rode out your orgasm as she finished for a fourth time, legs falling limp on the bed as yours shook. You screwed your eyes shut to try and catch your breath and she took it as an opportunity. 

She had the strength to pull you up until your pussy was over her face. She pushed you down, licking up your orgasm drunkenly and holding your waist as your hips twitched and rocked against her face. Her nose brushed your clit and you couldn’t stop yourself from continuing to rock against her, whimpering as she rubbed your thighs. 

She didn’t mean to make you come again, and she wasn’t planning on it by doing this, but she wasn’t going to stop you, and she certainly wasn’t going to ruin your orgasm when she felt it getting closer and closer until she had you dripping down her chin and cheeks as she licked you clean. She had to hold you up when your legs shook, keeping you sitting up with her hands on your breasts, groping and kneading through the dizzying pleasure of her mouth on you. 

She licked her lips as she moved you off of her face, grinning when she felt you kissing your orgasm off of her face, making sure to clean your mess thoroughly. 

“What happened to next time?” You asked. 

“You call that sitting on my face?” She chuckled. “I was just cleaning you up, it's not my fault you came all over me.” You shoved her shoulder as she laughed, clearly proud of herself. 

“Whatever,” you muttered, going to stand and feeling your legs trembling. “Jesus,” you muttered.

“Don’t think he had anything to do with this—“

“Shut up.” You laughed. “You’re not funny.”

“Lie down,” she said. “We can clean up tomorrow… Shower together in the morning, maybe?”

You gladly lied down after getting a different comforter from your closet, putting that one in the dirty clothes as Ellie watched you. “You’re so pretty,” she muttered. “I can’t believe we never did this before.”

She reached for you when you laid the comforter out, and you gladly got beneath it with her. Her arms went around your bare waist, holding you as you stroked her hair. “Are you okay?” You asked, knowing she was more tired than she wanted to admit. “Can I at least get you water?”

“Better than okay.” You smiled. “I just want to lie with you…” She trailed, eyeing your lips before she met your eyes. 

“Okay,” you muttered, still stroking her hair. She relaxed as you played with the strands, shutting her eyes. “I love you.”

She opened her eyes, frowning. “Tell me that when we haven’t just had sex—“

“I do,” you insisted. “So much.”

She smiled. It was quiet as you lied your head on her chest, looking out the window at the flurries of snow. You weren’t looking for reciprocation, you just wanted her to know. 

“Tired?” She asked, dragging her fingertips up and down the line of your spine. 

“I don’t want to go to sleep yet,” you muttered, hands holding her beneath her back, keeping her close. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, “go to sleep, pretty girl.”

She waited to say it back until you shut your eyes, quiet breaths leaving your lips as you slept soundly. She said it instead of saying goodnight, falling asleep to the sound of your breathing.

But when you woke up the next morning, she was gone. You had her hoodie and a pair of underwear on, but everything else — her clothes, the warmth of her body beneath you, even her scent on your pillow — was gone.

And her set of keys were left on your nightstand.

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im not sure if i want to continue this like i planned or if i want to end it happy so I'm letting yall get the vote on 1. angsty continuation or 2. cute lil happy ending

ur writing speaks to me<333

THANK YOUUU 💕💕💕💕💕🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼