C

In the second semester of your junior year, you developed the fattest crush on this girl in your grade. Her name was Abby, and she was a player on your school's varsity soccer team, and a damn good one at that. She was intelligent too, planning to follow in her father's footsteps of going to med-school and becoming a doctor. There was something about her that you couldn't quite resist. With her kind eyes, broad shoulders, and a smile so bright it creased her freckle-adorned cheeks, Abigail Anderson had charmed you, a part of your heart already preparing itself to be carved out and set aside in devotion to her.

So, when Abby asked you out to prom in the spring, you didn't hesitate to say yes, jumping up and squealing in excitement as you threw your arms around her neck.

Prom was perfect, the baby pink color of your long, sequined dress matching Abby's tie. The two of you were practically inseparable for the entire night, exhibiting the behavior of what some would consider "puppy love."

Abby wasn't your only highlight of the night, though. The moment they called your name out for prom princess, your heart filled so full you swore that it would spill out any second. As they placed the glittering sash over your shoulder, you truly felt like a girl at the end of a coming of age movie, like you had finally found where you belonged in the world, and it was here, under flashing lights in the venue of your high school prom, the validating cheers of your peers blaring through the room.

With a gleaming tiara on your head and Abby on your arm, you knew this night would be one that you would remember forever.

That summer, in the blaring heat of a June sun, Abby asked you to be her girlfriend, and just as you had in response to her promposal only a few weeks earlier, you enthusiastically accepted, throwing yourself into her arms.

Between tanning beside glittering swimming pools with your best-friends, getting virgin piña coladas with your mom, and sneaking out with your new girlfriend, you thought you had the best senior summer a girl could ever ask for—and that’s without mentioning the cherry on top: your father gifting you your dream car, a pink Mercedes-Benz. 

So, when it was time to begin your senior year at Jackson High School, you had not even a single doubt in your foolish belief that your senior year would live up to the expectations of your Hollywood-inspired fantasies you had possessed through all of your youth.

With your sexy buff girlfriend by your side and a hot new ride, your year was bound to go perfectly, right?

As you soon discovered, all expectations you had could be totaled up to nothing but the wet dream of a naïve spoiled suburban princess.

Just a few weeks into the first semester, you were driving yourself to school in your 21st century royal carriage, iced coffee in hand and bedazzled sunglasses balanced on your nose, when the shitty Subaru in front of you slammed on their brakes abruptly, causing you to run into them from behind.

"What the fuck?!" the car in front of you stepped out, fury ridden in every crease of their face.

After profusely apologizing to the angry stranger and offering to pay for repairs, you ended up sobbing while attempting to explain what you had gotten yourself into on the phone with your father, who only sighed in disappointment on the other end, “Daddy, it wasn’t my fault, I swear! They were the one who slammed on their brakes in front of me!”

Though you didn’t know yet, this accident only marked the beginning of the most humiliating week of your life.

Graciously, your parents let you stay home from school that day as you grieved your pink Mercedes. Their mercy didn't last for long, though, as they forced you to go back the next day, not allowing you to miss anymore school.

To your dismay, the angle at which your car was impacted left it in no condition to be driven. Since your parents both had work and Abby claimed she had an early morning gym sesh planned, you found yourself riding the infamous Big Cheese to school that morning. You felt so humiliated being a senior and having to ride the bus to school. The pickled odor ruminating through the air combined with the sticky seats left you less than comfortable, to say the least. Some underclassmen boys were play fighting behind you, and one ended up elbowing you in the face. You glared at them offensively, but neither of them offered so much as an apology, just continuing to laugh obnoxiously while sloppily throwing their hands at each other.

You started that day already pissed off, and what made it worse was that Abby had been acting distant. In fact, she had been acting distant ever since the first week of the semester. She had only been replying to all your texts with one-word responses, and she had been avoiding you at school, too. When you texted her regarding her distant behavior, she just replied, "dw abt it, baby."

Safe to say, you were angry, but you didn't know if there was anything you could do about it. After all, you didn't have any reason to suspect her of doing anything wrong.

You were about to fall asleep in study hall when all of a sudden you got a notification from your best friend Dina.

wifey dina <3 - 10:05 AM

"holy shit, did you see cat's story?"

you - 10:05 am

"who the fuck is cat?"

wifey dina <3 - 10:05 AM

"she's like some stoner chick. has tattoos n shit."

wifey dina <3 sent an attachment

Upon clicking on the photo Dina sent you, you audibly gasped. It was a screenshot of an Instagram story, a grainy photo of some girl with black micro bangs (who you presumed was Cat) with her hand wrapped around someone's hickey-littered neck from behind while leaning down and biting their bicep.

It wasn't just anyone's bicep, though. You would recognize those freckled broad shoulders from anywhere, and the dirty blonde baby hairs peaking out from behind the person's ears only confirmed your suspicions.

you - 10:06 AM

"i fucking know that's not abby."

wifey dina <3 - 10:06 AM

"babe, i'm afraid it is.”

“and leah told me that she overheard someone saying that they saw them making out behind the bleachers yesterday after school too.”

You didn't know what to do. You didn’t want to cry in the middle of class, but your tightening throat and the tears blurring your vision didn’t really give you much of a choice. Sure, you had only been dating Abby for a couple of months, but part of you felt like you truly loved her.

Your mind began racing: Is this why Abby has been so avoidant? Is it my fault? Am I not pretty enough? Did I not give her enough attention?

wifey dina <3 - 10:07 AM

“i’m so sorry, doll.”

“you deserve so much better.”

Damn right you did, and after the initial wave of sadness and heartbreak washed over, you were immediately filled with rage.

As the bell rang for lunch, you marched toward the cafeteria with more purpose than a Navy SEAL.

If Abby had no issue with carelessly making this such a public ordeal that you had to find out through a blurry screenshot, then you didn’t have any problem making your confrontation a scene.

Usually, Abby would sit with all her soccer friends, while you would sit with the cheerleading girls.

Today, though, you stomped directly towards Abby’s table, calling out her name angrily as you approached.

When at first she didn’t hear you, you yanked on her shoulder forcefully, shouting her name again to capture her full attention.

“Oh my god—what the fuck, babe?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that you think it’s okay to just run around and fuck other girls when you have a girlfriend.”

“You’re seriously accusing me of cheating on you?”

At this point, her entire table was either staring at the two of you or whispering and snickering amongst themselves, but you couldn’t have cared less in the heat of the moment.

“Oh, I’m not accusing you. I know what you did, so don’t even try to lie to me.” You pulled out your phone, shoving the screenshot of Cat’s story in Abby’s face, “Mind telling me what the fuck you’re doing here?”

Abby just scoffed in disbelief, staring at your phone scathingly, as if you would have never caught on if it wasn’t for the stupid, tattletale device in your hand.

She returned her gaze to you, “Babe, I can explain—“

You interrupted her before she could even start, “Abby, please. Don’t try to lie to me. I mean, for fuck’s sake, people are running around saying they saw the two of you making out! There’s no explaining this.”

To you, it didn’t matter what she said at this point. Even if she apologized, the hurt had already been caused.

Abby sighed, defeated, “I think we should just break up.”

“What—?”

“Yeah, if you really feel that way, then I don’t think—“

“No.”

“No?”

“No! You cheated on me. You don’t get to dump me now. I’m the one dumping you.”

Abby raised her eyebrows and smirked as if she just couldn’t take you seriously, “Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure I’m the one who said that we should break up first.”

Abby’s snarky facial expression combined with the obnoxious snickering of all of her friends made your blood boil. You had never been more pissed off in your life.

"You know what? I fucking can't with you. Don’t try to talk to me ever again. I’ll see you in hell.”

You hoped your dramatic exit would be something iconic or even badass that would stick in Abby’s mind and make her immediately regret ever breaking your heart.

However, as fate would have it, something less ideal occurred. As you walked backward, you bumped into someone, causing you to yelp while falling onto your ass as their black coffee got spilled all over your shirt.

Abby and all her friends began laughing hysterically. At this point, your face must have been flushed completely crimson. Now, whether it was more from anger or embarrassment, you didn’t really know.

Getting back up on your feet, you were fully prepared to berate the moron that let you get drenched and humiliated at the hands of their carelessness, but as you saw the person responsible for your misery, your blood boiled even hotter (if that was still possible), your eyes narrowing in on her scrawny figure.

Ellie fucking Williams.

Well, technically the one who spilled the coffee on you was her idiot best friend, Jesse, not Ellie, but you knew it somehow had to be Ellie’s fault anyways. Why? Because it just fucking had to be, nothing else would make sense. Ellie hated you, and you hated her. It’s just how it was.

If anyone were to ask you when the feud began, you wouldn’t have been able to answer exactly when. Maybe it started in middle school when you spread a rumor that she was a druggie and her dad was a satanic cult leader—or maybe sophomore year when she muttered something about you being a “spoiled, dim-witted, brat” under her breath when you passed her in the hallway, and when you forcefully turned around to quip something back, you tripped onto your face in front of half your school, effectively destroying the heel on your favorite pair of pink pumps and spraining your ankle in the process, all while the little demon laughed at you from behind.

For a while after that incident, nothing else had happened between the two of you. No drama, no rumors, no petty remarks, nothing. It was peaceful, you thought maybe the tension had finally dulled between you both. Well, that was until last November when she sent photos of you drinking at a Halloween party to the principal, almost causing you to lose your position as captain of your school’s varsity cheer team. What business did that stoner have tattling on anyone over substance use, anyway? Well, you didn’t have any way of knowing for sure Ellie was the one who snitched on you; the report was anonymous, of course. But it seemed obvious to you that she was the only one bitter enough to do something so petty with the sole motivation of hurting you and your reputation.

It didn’t even have to be about the trivial dramatics; just the way Ellie presented and carried herself was a mortal sin against everything that you stood for. You were the spoiled princess of poised perfection and cherry flavored lip gloss dressed in rhinestoned true religion jeans and lacey pink baby doll tops, locked in your upper middle-class tower—while she was the fire-breathing, smoke-exhaling, lighter-slinging dragon with dingy black scales and worn wings, adorning silver piercings and black eyeshadow, lurking from outside palace walls as the epitome of a suburban pariah.

Everything about her made your blood boil. It was as if the resentment between you was fated, written in the stars, no matter how horribly cliché it was.

So, naturally, you had to suspect her of scheming on your downfall through even the most insignificant things.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to!“ Jesse scrambled to apologize, but it was too late, rage had already consumed you.

“Do you not fucking pay attention to what you’re doing?”

Ellie decided now was the best time to butt into the conversation, attempting to rescue her friend from the blunt end of your wrath, “Hey, c’mon, dude. Y’know he didn’t mean to.”

You glared at Ellie as if she was the most malevolent creature in the whole world, “Do you really wanna be talking right now, Ellie? I know this is all your doing.”

She laughed at you like you sounded crazy, “What? How is this my doing?”

“Because,” through your anger, you still tried to make sense of all the shit you were spewing, “only you are bitter and spiteful enough to do something so petty just to embarrass me!”

Ellie furrowed her brows at you in disbelief, "How the hell is it my fault that you bumped into Jesse? You’re the one embarrassing yourself, you don't need my help to do so.”

You scoffed, irritated by her audacity, “Listen, if this was any other day, I just might let this go, but you chose the worst possible time to fuck with me."

"Again, I didn't do anything to fuck with you. Get over yourself, princess."

Princess. You fucking hated when she called you that, condescension laced so firmly in her voice that it never failed to leave you feeling thoroughly disrespected and so impossibly small.

You rolled your eyes at her, "Just leave me alone, Ellie."

As you walked away, you internally hoped she didn’t hear the little crack in your voice from your tight throat, warm tears threatening to pour out your eyes.

You slipped into the first bathroom you spotted outside the cafeteria, finding refuge in a quiet stall as you hurled your legs into fetal position. There, you finally let yourself cry.

You weren’t crying over your altercation with Ellie, of course. You weren’t even crying over your break up, really. It was just everything. You were so overwhelmed. For the past few days, it felt as if you weren’t ever able to catch a break, not even for a second. It all just kept on coming, and a girl could only be so strong.

So, when the bell rung, you decided that, after the week you’ve had, you didn’t have it in you anymore to sit in a miserable classroom with a bunch of sweaty kids for an hour while trying and failing to understand whatever shit your math teacher had on the board that day.

Instead of going to class, you slipped out of a side door of the school, concluding all you needed was some fresh air.

"You still pouting, princess?"

You whipped your head around to meet the condescending voice calling at you, only to see Ellie Williams, again.

You huffed, “What do you want, Ellie?”

She looked so smug, sitting there with one leg tucked against her chest and the other lazily stretched out against the ground. She pulled out the blunt gently pressed between her lips, exhaling soft gray smoke into the air.

“Why don’t you come and join me?”

“And do what? Sit there and smoke weed for an hour then walk back into class and pretend people can’t smell the shit on me?”

“Sure, why not? Maybe it would help you chill out for once.”

You crossed your arms in defiance, shocked at her audacity to ask you to smoke with her after the shit she pulled earlier today. 

You could brush her off and say you had better things to do, but you did have a really shitty day. You could use something to relax after everything you’ve been through. Besides, maybe it would help to have someone to rant to.

You quickly glanced around, checking for any cameras or people around that could rat you out, but you didn’t see anything. After all, Ellie did this all the time, and she never got caught.

You huffed defiantly, crossing your arms as you slipped into the space on the concrete staircase beside Ellie.

She handed you the blunt, but you just stared at it dumbly, not fully understanding what she was expecting of you.

Ellie smirked, “You’ve never smoked before, have you?”

You glared at her, “What do you think, Ellie?”

Ellie grinned before taking the blunt back, “All you have to do is press it against your lips and inhale, just like this.”

You stared at her mouth as she demonstrated, thin paper brushing against the soft pads of her rosy pink lips. As she exhaled, the wind carried the smoke through the air, allowing you to breathe in its herbal scent.

Once complete, Ellie turned towards you. She leaned in, placing the blunt in your hand as her hand clasped over yours, guiding the blunt towards your lips.

Your cheeks burned red from the proximity as you took a hit from the joint, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time.

As she pulled the blunt away from your lips, you were immediately thrown into a fit of coughs, all while Ellie laughed at you, clearly finding amusement in your failure.

Once recollecting yourself, you glared at Ellie once more, smacking the tattoo on her forearm, “Hey! Quit laughing at me!”

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” Ellie took a deep breath, trying to restrain herself from cracking up again and pissing you off further, “Y’know, don’t feel bad. A lot of people struggle when they first start.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I mean, I didn’t really. But I’m sure lots of other people do!”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, whatever.”

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, enjoying each other’s silence and the chill breeze of the September air.

Watching Ellie take a hit from the joint, you grew a bit hungry for another.

“Ellie?”

“Mhm?”

“Can I have another hit?” you asked sweetly, your doe eyes pleading to her.

Ellie passed you the blunt back, but not without smirking while doing so. Why did she have to look so god damn smug all the time?

This time you took it much more smoothly, no coughing involved. Ellie even nodded her approval.

In your mellowed state of mind, you became the first to break the silence, “Why did you invite me to smoke with you anyways?”

Ellie shrugged, “I told you, I thought it would help you be not so stuck-up for once.”

You shook your head, “Yeah, but we’ve never really gotten along.” Residing in the calm solitude the two of you shared now, you couldn’t help but laugh at the stupidity of your guys’ past altercations, “I mean, our interaction in the cafeteria today wasn’t exactly friendly.”

“Eh, I saw you and Abby fighting right before. ‘Figured that had to be the reason you were acting so particularly bitchy today.”

You groaned at the mention of your ex-girlfriend’s name, “Ugh, Abby.”

“What happened between the two of you anyways?”

You sighed, annoyance permeating through the tone of your voice, “She cheated on me.”

“Oh my god, that sucks.”

“Yeah, it does, and I had to find out through a fucking Instagram story too. I felt so humiliated.”

“I’m sorry, that’s horrible,” Ellie comforted you as she reached over to her water bottle, twisting off it’s plastic cap. “If you don’t mind me asking, who did she cheat on you with? It’s hard for me to imagine she could’ve done much better than you.”

You knew that she didn’t mean much by the last comment. She said it so casually, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered anyways.

“It’s some girl named Cat,” you answered.

When you looked back at Ellie, she was choking on the sip of water she had just taken.

You placed some gentle blows on her back, trying to help her out.

“Hey, are you okay? Is something wrong?” you asked, concern laced in your voice.

She managed her words through coughs, “Yeah—yeah, I’m fine.”

She coughed a bit more before recollecting herself, finally responding to what you said, “Yeah, Cat isn’t shit. Abby fucked up, for sure.”

The two of you sat there for a while longer, exchanging stories with each other, talking about people from your school, and laughing at each other's stupid jokes.

You didn’t like to admit it, but part of you had started to develop a real understanding of her. She could be really nice when the two of you weren’t dead set on hating the other. At one point, you mentioned that you were hungry, and she gave you a full bag of sour gummy worms. It might’ve just been candy, but that moment had to have been the nicest she’s ever been to you in all your time of knowing her.

Who would’ve known that the two of you could actually really enjoy each other's company? (Even if you had to be a little bit high to do so.)

When the bell that finally cut school out rang, you were surprised. You didn’t think you had been out there with her for that long, but maybe time just seemed to pass by faster when you were hanging out with her.

You groaned as students piled out of the building.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asked as she threw all her things back into her bag.

“My car’s broken and I don’t want to ride the bus…”

“I could drive you home if you want,” Ellie offered.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. Your house can’t be that far away.”

The ride home was quiet, but never awkward. Somehow it didn’t feel weird to be in Ellie’s space, listening to her playlist softly playing from her car’s speakers. It was almost comforting, but the thought of accepting that made you want to throw up.

So, instead, you just stared out the window, trying to force your mind to not think about the humiliation you had endured this week or, arguably worse, the prospect that the girl you had despised since middle wasn’t actually the devil reincarnate you imagined her to be.

After you got home and had finished taking your shower, you laid down in your bed, sinking into the mattress. For the first time that day, you felt like you could finally decompress. But before the silence could give you enough space to reflect on everything, you received a face time call from your best friends Dina and Leah.

“Hey, babe!” Dina exclaimed as you picked up, “Leah wants to know if you can come to this party.”

“Yeah, Jordan’s parents are out of town on some work trip or whatever, so he’s gonna invite a bunch of people over tomorrow night. You should come!”

“Oh, I don’t know…” you hesitated, playing with the hem of your satin pink pajamas. With your break up being so fresh, you didn’t know if going out would be the best idea. Sure, you weren’t going to be alone since you had Dina and Leah, and Jordan was Leah’s long term boyfriend, so it wouldn’t be like you were somewhere unfamiliar. But, still, you couldn’t help but feel like you wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy it.

“C’monnn, it’ll be so fun!” Dina pleaded.

Leah pouted, “You usually love going to parties, what’s wrong?”

“Well, it’s just that since I broke up with Abby—“

“Hold on,” Dina interrupted, “you actually broke up with Abby?”

“Yeah…”

“As you should,” Leah said, “You deserve so much better.”

You chuckled, but there was no amusement in your voice, “I know.”

“We’re always here for you if you need to talk,” Dina reminded you.

“Thank you guys,” you said, smiling softly, truly grateful your friends’ support.

“Don’t even worry about it, girl,” Leah chimed in again, “Abby downgraded anyways. Cat can’t dress for shit and those micro bangs look like she cut them in the dark with craft scissors. Not to mention that she’s Ellie’s ex-girlfriend.”

Your heart dropped, “Cat is Ellie’s ex-girlfriend?” 

“Yeah—you didn’t know? They had, like, a really messy break up last year. Something about Ellie being too obsessive and Cat cheating on her with like some older guy at her job so Ellie stole Cat’s car for revenge on some Grand Theft Auto shit.”

Leah’s eyebrows twisted as she recalled the rest of the story.

“Then she recited this really cringy poem to her English class she apparently wrote about Cat. Somehow the president of Mozambique was involved too, but I don’t remember.” 

“Oh my God—did all that really happen?”

“Yeah!” Leah claimed, “Well that’s just what I heard. I’m sure some of it has to be embellishment of the truth or whatever—But, anyways, yeah. Everybody knows that they used to date.”

You were sure Leah was just regurgitating a bunch of bullshit—you loved her, but Leah was involved in so much shit talking that you began to suspect that her brain had started melting.

Despite that, through Leah’s rambling, you did recall something about Ellie being in love and falling out with another girl in your guys’ grade.

Your heart sunk a little at the thought of Cat’s relationship with Ellie, a feeling settling inside you somewhere between disgust and devastation. You just brushed it off, though, not understanding what it meant and not being able to unpack it even if you did.

“Don’t worry about Abby and Cat,” Dina comforted, “You should still come to the party, it’ll help you get your mind off her.”

“I’m still not sure…”

“C’mon,” Leah pleaded, “We’ll have so much fun, you’ll completely forget all about her!”

You sighed, “Fine.”

“Yes!” Dina grinned.

“Great!” Leah exclaimed, “I’ll probably go to his house first to help set up, then I can go pick you guys up.”

“Alright,” you said, “Dina, is it okay if I go to your house after school tomorrow to get ready?”

“Of course, babe,” Dina agreed.

“Thank you!” Suddenly, you yawned, a wave of exhaustion crashing over you, “I’m getting pretty tired. I’m gonna go to sleep, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Almost immediately after ending the call, sleep consumed you. Which, in hindsight, you were grateful for, knowing that if you had stayed up any longer, your overthinking would latch onto you and keep you up for the rest of the night.

After getting home from school the next day, you were having second thoughts about the party. You were utterly exhausted, part of you just wanting to lay in your bed and eat ice cream while wallowing in the hollow aftermath of your break up.

Fortunately for you, your best friend Dina was determined to help you escape the claws of your own self-pity. Confident that the perfect antidote for your heartbreak was a night of going out, she was there at your house at 5pm sharp to help you grab your outfit and makeup and take you back to her house to get ready and pregame.

Though you seriously doubted how effective partying would be for curing your sadness, you trusted your best friend. After all, she knew you better than anyone, and you did love getting dolled up and tipsy at some rich fucker’s house after a long week.

After a diligent half hour of makeup and careful outfit deliberation, you stood in front of Dina’s floor length mirror and inspected the figure reflected back at you. You truly felt beautiful, adorning a skintight cheetah print tank top, cleavage on display, with a black mini skirt draping over your hips. The fishnets and black pumps you put on tied your look together. Bright strands of hair tinsel glittered when caught in the lights while the charcoal tightlining of your waterlines allowed the color of your eyes to pop out more than ever before.

“Holy shit, you look hot,” Dina remarked, her voice pulling you out of your own head. You only laughed shyly in response. 

“Abby must be a fucking idiot. She has no idea what she’s missing out on right now,” she added on.

Upon glancing over your face, she immediately picked up on the sadness engrained into your features.

“Hey, don’t be sad, okay?” Dina comforted you as she placed her hand on your shoulder, “You deserve way better than Abby anyways. If she’s a cheater, it was never gonna work out anyways. You practically dodged a bullet. You’re hot, funny, hardworking, and actually really good at math.”

Dina softened her voice while kneeling down in front of you, “You’ll find another girl to love, and she’ll never take for granted how lucky she is to have you.”

“Do you really mean that?” you asked, throat tight as tears pooled at the bottom of your eyes, threatening to spill over.

“Of course I do. Besides, we’re gonna have so much fun tonight, you’ll forget Abby even exists,” she brushed your cheek, collecting a rogue tear that had dripped down from your eye on her thumb, “Now cheer up before you mess up your makeup.” She tousled your hair before pulling out her phone, “Leah should be in here like five minutes to pick us up, you ready?”

You nodded, looking back at your reflection one last time, reapplying your favorite cherry-flavored lip-gloss for good luck. You really hoped Dina was right. You didn’t want to think about Abby anymore, and you sure as hell did not want to think about whatever couple shit she could be doing with that Cat girl.

Tonight, you just wanted to have a good time. You wanted to enjoy being young, single, and hot—maybe get a little bit tipsy, and (most importantly) get Abby off of your mind. 

Despite your wishes, it seemed fate had other plans for you.

As soon as you got to the party, Dina and Leah spotted someone they had met at a concert they attended a few weeks ago. Promising them that you would be okay by yourself, you decided to slip away from them to grab a drink while they caught up with their friend. 

Once acquiring your drink, you slipped into the crowd and observed the mass of partiers. To your devastation, in the center of the room stood no other than your ex-girlfriend: Abigail Anderson, shamelessly making out with the same girl she had cheated on you with underneath the party’s violet luminescence with no regard for the presence of other people around. Her tongue was stuck so far down Cat’s throat it was as if she was trying to reach the depths of her soul through her mouth.

You stared at the two of them, disgust rising and settling deep inside your gut.

“They’re so disgusting,” you muttered, not even realizing that you were saying your thoughts out loud.

“Yeah. They make me want to throw up,” a voice next to you sneered. 

You flinched, not expecting another voice to boom so close and unexpectedly near your ear, “What the fuck?!” 

The voice came from no other than Ellie Williams, who paid no mind to your jumpiness as she continued talking shit, “Y’know, never would I ever imagine the two of them together."

You scoffed, piling onto Ellie’s thoughts in agreement, “Yeah, because they don’t look good together. Besides, I don’t understand why they feel the need to practically eat each other alive in front of everybody.” 

“Exactly,” Ellie chuckled, “It’s just gross.”

Silence settled between the two of you for just a second longer than what felt comfortable.

You shifted your feet as you worked up the courage to ask her the question that had been lingering in your mind since last night.

“Ellie?”

She returned her head and her attention back to you, “Yeah?”

“Yesterday, when I told you about what happened between me and Abby,” you paused for a moment, collecting yourself, “Why didn’t you tell me that Cat was your ex-girlfriend?”

You watched the muscles of Ellie’s throat flex and relax slowly as she swallowed, jaw tensing, “We were talking about you, what happened between me and Cat didn’t matter.”

“Oh, okay,” you replied, suddenly shy.

After a moment, Ellie spoke up again, “But, y’know, about that… I can’t help but think…”

“Think what?”

She turned her body fully towards you, engaging eye contact, “Do you really think that they’re just making out in front of everybody because they just find each other so irresistible?”

You furrowed your brows, “What the hell are you trying to imply?” 

Ellie smirked, mischief suddenly creeping across her expression, “I’m saying that they’re obviously trying to make us jealous. Don’t you see it?”

Swishing the drink in your hand absentmindedly, you doubted her theory, “I don’t know, Ellie. What if they just like each other? I doubt they thought about it that deeply.”

Ellie rolled her eyes in response, “You don’t have to believe me, but I’m right.” 

Silence lingered between the two of you as Ellie turned her gaze away from you. As her gentle features got caught in the violet glow reflecting off the silver mirror ball, you couldn’t help but notice that she was actually quite beautiful.

Your eyes locked back onto the pair, who was now grinding on each other to the rhythm of whatever shitty bass-boosted house song was blasting from the speakers.

“They make me fucking sick,” you muttered.

Ellie smirked as your gaze met with hers again, “Well, I’m telling you, they’re just trying to get under our skin, and there’s only one way we can get them back.”

“Now what the actual fuck are you trying to say?”

As she lowered her voice, Ellie leaned in so close that you could feel the warmth in her breath and smell the liquor she had downed ten minutes ago.

“I think you already know what I’m trying to say, princess.”

For a moment, you were stunned, heat rising in your cheeks at the proximity.

Was she seriously trying to imply that you two should kiss in an attempt to get back at Cat and Abby?

As appealing as it sounded to rile Abby up and make her jealous, the idea of kissing Ellie sounded fucking insane to you. She might've comforted you after your break up yesterday, and the two of you might be currently bonding over your exes getting together in a fling that nobody could have ever predicted—but none of that made you forget the years of resentment that had festered between you both until this week.

Besides, she was still a stoned out loser. What would people think of you if they saw you kiss her?

Breaking out of the trance you were in, you shook your head, pushing her off of you, “C’mon, Ellie. That’s fucking crazy and you know it.”

She just shrugged in response, “Maybe, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't do it anyways."

"If you change your mind, I'll still be here," she practically breathed into your ear, “Just saying, it would really piss Abby off.”

It was true, Abby hated Ellie as much as you did. Well, nearly as much as you did. Ellie made you want to fucking rip your hair out of your scalp and strangle her with it. Well, at least she used to. Everything seemed to be confusing lately.

You brushed Ellie off and made your way through the crowd, finding Leah and Jordan by a wall, cuddling up and laughing. The love that radiated off of them mocked you in your post-breakup state, reminding you of Abby and enraging you all over again.

You stomped up to the couple, “Jordan, why the fuck did you invite Abby?”

“Wait, she’s here?” Leah said, beginning to glance over the crowd.

“I’m so confused,” Jordan said, “Isn’t she your girlfriend? I thought you would want her to be here.”

You rolled your eyes, “Look at what she’s doing right now.”

Jordan scanned the crowd and gasped when he saw Abby, “Is she making out with another girl?”

“Yes,” you groaned, “We’re not together anymore because she’s a fucking cheater.”

As you began to turn away, Leah tugged on your forearm, pulling you back.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized, “I should’ve told him not to invite her, I had no idea she would even come.”

“It’s okay, Leah. Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing we can do about it now. I’m just pissed.”

Pulling away from her, you continued walking towards the bar.

You downed a cup of suspicious fruit punch and mentally prayed to God that it wasn’t laced with anything other than cheap liquor.

With the bitter taste of alcohol settling in your throat, you leaned back against the wall, your eyes scrutinizing the room of partiers once more.

Sure enough, Abby and Cat were still there in the center of the room, grinding and kissing on one other.

You thought you were fine. You thought you could handle it. Not everything is meant to last and people grow apart and all that other bullshit about letting go.

But then you saw Abby’s hands slide over Cat’s body.

Abby’s fingertips caressed the sensitive muscle of Cat’s abdomen, making her gasp and look back at your ex-girlfriend, the two closing the gap with a messy kiss.

How fucking dare she.

It broke you to see Abby touch another girl with the same hands, the same intensity, the same purpose that she had touched your body with only a week prior.

That was your final straw.

With liquid courage burning through your veins, you thought back to Ellie’s proposition.

Without giving yourself a chance to have second thoughts, you pushed through the crowd.

Sure enough, she was still there in the party, just as she said she would be, now talking to a few other losers that you (quite honestly) didn’t care enough to learn the names of.

All you had to do was call out her name once, and she turned back towards you, your gaze meeting hers immediately.

If you were going to back down, this was your final chance to do so.

But you didn’t back down.

Instead, you wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her into a warm kiss.

Ellie responded to you immediately, pressing your body into hers through her hold on your hips.

After a few seconds, you were the first to pull away from the kiss, gasping for air. Ellie didn’t seem satisfied with that, though, soon pulling you back in for more, this time much more confident and intense as you both grew more familiar with the other’s body.

Ellie licked across your bottom lip as a request for entrance, to which you accepted, allowing her to deepen the kiss.

Once you both had no other choice but to break away for air, you still held Ellie close, resting your head against her shoulder as you attempted to recollect yourself.

As the adrenaline crash hit you, you began to undergo the full consequences of the shots you took at Dina’s house in combination with whatever shit was in those red solo cups.

Everything sounded like it was underwater. You couldn’t even see the crowds of your peers staring and whispering as everything blurred together in your vision.

Each light was blinding. Each noise was deafening.

Your stomach turned like it was working against its natural movement, trying to force out something you desperately did not want to come out right now.

You leaned against Ellie to prevent yourself from falling over as your limbs shook they would soon stop working entirely.

“Ellie, I don’t feel so good.” you muttered into her ear. “Can you take me home?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just hold on to me.” Ellie agreed, her voice still breathy from the kiss.

She guided you out of the party with her hand on the small of your back. You knew people were talking about you, but you were too dazed from the kiss and your inebriation to care.

Once outside, Ellie unlocked her car and helped you into the passenger seat before walking around and climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Ellieeee?” you drawled out her name.

“Yeah?” she turned towards you, genuine concern in her eyes, “Do you need anything?”

“Can I have your jacket? ‘M so cold.”

Ellie threw her jacket into your lap before turning on the car.

You pulled the leather over your shoulders, immediately finding comfort in the scent of smoke and musky cologne that radiated off her jacket.

Fortunately, Ellie remembered your address from taking you home yesterday, so it didn’t take long for the two of you to take off after settling into the car.

After Ellie started driving, you quickly accustomed to the gentle hum of the car beating against the road, finding comfort in it's rhythm.

Hearing your phone blow up with notifications, you clumsily unlocked your phone. Seeing that all the texts came from your group chat with Dina and Leah, you tapped on your screen to read what they were saying.

In your drunken state, the blue and white hazes from your phone all blended into one, forcing you to have to squint your eyes to make out what the texts said.

leah baby - 11:32 PM

"lol tell me why i just saw cat and abby walking out the party"

"they seemed like they were fighting too"

wifey dina <3 - 11:35 PM

“y/n.”

"where the fuck are you?"

leah baby - 11:36 PM

“omg”

"y/n, why are people saying that you and ellie kissed?"

"What are you looking at?" Ellie asked.”

"Oh, my friends are just texting me."

You moved to reply to your concerned friends, but your fingers felt like jelly. Despite it feeling almost impossible to type back a coherent response, you carried through.

you - 11:38 PM

"m oksy guys"

"ellie s takinf me homd"

You shut your phone off and relaxed into your seat, resting your head against the window as you watched Ellie drive, her brow furrowed in focus.

After a minute or two, you finally decided to break the silence, “Ellie?”

“Mhm?” She met your gaze momentarily before returning her eyes to the road.

“What actually happened between you and Cat?” You thought back to your conversation with Leah yesterday, giggling at the absurdity of her story, “Leah said that she cheated on you with some old man and you stole her car or some shit.”

“That did not happen,” Ellie sounded a bit defensive at first, but couldn’t help the smile that adorned her face upon hearing the gentle melody of your soft laughter.

“Then what did happen?” You asked, looking up at her with big doe eyes from your slouched sitting position.

Ellie sighed, "Well, I met her in this art class I was taking sophomore year. I thought she was really cool... and pretty," Ellie let out a short, breathy laughter as she recalled what was now just a distant memory to her. "We had a lot in common, too, so we became friends pretty quickly."

"One day we were chilling in her car listening to Pierce the Veil or whatever shit was on our playlist," Ellie paused like it still hurt her to remember, "Then she leaned in and kissed me."

"Then what happened?" You asked, fully engaged.

"Well, we started dating—and at first it was good, like really good. I mean, she was my first girlfriend since middle school, so it wasn't like I had a lot to compare it to, but still."

Ellie bit her lip for a moment, lost in thought, "Then, I guess she got tired of me. 'Said I was getting too clingy or something, started acting distant... then she cut things off."

"I'm so sorry, Ellie," you said softly, fully sympathizing with her and relating to what she went through through your own break up.

She shook her head, "It's fine. I'm over it now; it just hurts to think about."

You leaned in and placed your hand on her forearm, rubbing circles into her skin in an attempt to comfort her, "Still, nobody deserves to be treated like that."

Your heart felt like it was being squeezed a little as you witnessed the soft smile that graced on Ellie's face. It may have been there for just a second, but that was enough for you.

Ellie cleared her throat as the car came to a stop, "We're here."

You looked out the window and, truth be told, there stood your family's house illuminated under the pale moonlight.

Ellie got out the car and walked over to your side, opening the door for you and helping you get out while holding your hand.

Still inebriated, you had to lean onto Ellie as you walked up towards your house.

"Fuck, Ellie," you giggled, "I left my keys on my nightstand. I'm gonna have to crawl through my window."

Ellie laughed at you, "Are you fucking serious? How do you forget your keys?"

"Oh my God, shut up!" you laughed along with Ellie. "Dina was rushing me out the door, okay?"

"Okay, but now seriously how the fuck are we going to get up to your window?"

"Chill out, I live on the first floor. It's right there."

Once reaching the outside of your bedroom, you leaned against the vinyl panels of your house while staring at the flexing of Ellie's muscles as she pushed open your window.

You climbed through the window first, landing on the floor with a thud due to your drunken lack of coordination.

Ellie followed, climbing into your bedroom next.

"Ellie, what are you doing?" you asked, not expecting her to actually come in.

She fidgeted with her hands, suddenly a bit shy, "I just wanted to make sure that you were going to be okay before I left."

Upon seeing you struggle to get your heels off, Ellie kneeled down and helped you unfasten all the straps, tossing the shoes into a corner of your room once complete.

Stumbling over to your dresser, you pulled out a change of clothes so you could finally get out of your itchy bra and tight clothes.

"Ellie, can you please turn around while I change?" you asked.

"Oh, right—sure! I mean, yeah, of course I can," she spun around, cheeks flushed completely red. You thought it was adorable how easy it was to make her nervous and get her wrapped around your finger.

Sometimes Ellie could seem so tough, her confidence radiating in a way that appeared so effortless to those around her. Underneath her sharp tongue and edgy demeanor, though, she was just an awkward girl that got shy when you went soft on her.

Once slipping out of your party outfit and throwing on the Fleetwood Mac shirt you religiously wore to bed once a week and a striped pair of pajama pants, you told Ellie she could look again.

The alcohol debilitated your senses once more as you stumbled on your way towards your bed, making Ellie rush over and hold your waist as she helped you climb into your sheets.

As you let the comforting familiarity of your mattress embrace you whole, you realized how fucking tired you actually were.

“How about we exchange numbers?” she asked, “That way you can text me if you need anything.”

“Mmmm,” you groaned in exhaustion. “I don’t wanna get up, I’ll just tell you mine.”

You recited your phone number out to her as she diligently tapped it into her phone to save it.

“Ellie?” you called out to her, your voice low and soft as you were actively trying and failing to fight off sleep.

“Yes?”

“I think you’re really sweet.” you confessed.

“Thanks,” her face turned red from your flattery, “I think you’re really drunk right now.”

You hummed, your eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered to sleep, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Of course, it’s the right thing to do.”

Before climbing out your window to return to her car, Ellie took a minute to admire you in your unconscious state. She truly believed you looked beautiful like this, curling into yourself as you buried your head deeper into your pillow. You looked more than precious with your soft lashes pressed gently against each other and your pouty lips agape. Ellie wondered if this is what angels looked like in flesh.

She shook her head, breaking herself out of her thoughts. No, she couldn’t think of you in that way.

She forced herself to rip her gaze away from you and instead head back into the night. Regardless, no matter how much she tried to tell herself that any proximity between the two of you was strictly a product of random circumstance and a desire for vengeance, the gross pink thing beating between her ribs argued otherwise.

You woke up the next day with a pounding headache that never ceased, a sour taste in your mouth, and a hot sweat that made your clothes stick to your skin. You covered your eyes with your hands in an attempt to hide from the sun, whose blinding light left black and blue dots permeating your vision.

Groaning, you pulled your phone off your nightstand.

The time on it read 1:52 PM. You didn't think you stayed at the party for that long, so you must have just been so tired after the week you had that you slept for over twelve hours.

The time wasn't what shocked you the most, though. In fact, the part that made your heart sink was the amount of texts that had blown up your inbox over night.

wifey dina <3 - 11:39 PM

“you're in a car with ellie?"

"are you fucking serious, y/n?"

leah baby - 11:42 PM

“holy shit”

"so you actually kissed ellie?"

"wait, but i thought u guys hated each other?"

wifey dina <3 - 11:44 PM

“they do."

"i don't know what she was thinking."

abigail. (cheating asshole) (DO NOT CALL) - 12:05 AM

“what the fuck”

"did you seriously make out with ellie?"

"in front of everybody?"

"are you insane?"

"out of all the fucking people you kiss ellie?"

leah baby sent an attachment - 1:03 AM

leah baby - 1:03 AM

“someone posted a photo of you two kissing on their story”

(###)-###-#### - 8:22 AM

“hey, it’s ellie”

"text me when ur awake"

You threw your phone across the room and rolled onto your side, placing your palms against your forehead as you groaned deep enough that it echoed across your bedroom walls.

What the fuck did you get yourself into?

You were a freelance tour manager in the K-Pop industry for 4 years, having worked hard enough to get your phone number in manager’s phone book and eventually be the trusted name in the industry that was the first one to be uttered in Zoom calls and board meetings when idols touched the tarmac of American airports. You were diligent, efficient, sharp — yet still carried an air of warmth despite the daily stressors your occupation offered to you on a platter of gold.

It was one faithful day when the name “BTS” came across your desk. It wasn't like you hadn’t worked with the biggest names in the industry already, but they were easily the biggest on the planet. Sold out shows, high production value, concerts that went on for hours — you had naturally tuned into other tour shows when you weren’t working and could tell that the stressors surrounding a BTS tour would be uniquely special in the worst way possible. You couldn’t have been more correct.

Days went by without sleep. Countless amounts of biting your tongue not to curse yourself a storm at a backdrop being the wrong shade. Dumb amounts of occurrences of lost earpieces and jewelry. Yet, you still showed up as the competent, productive worker you were, never uttering a request without a ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.

Jungkook saw all of it.

All seven of the men were sweethearts (even Yoongi who you had assumed seemed a little standoffish initially, but was truly warm on the inside) and there was no interaction with them that was truly negative apart from a harsh word in moments of chaos or a click of the tongue in an exchange of words. However, Jungkook’s smile was always that little bit wider when you came into view. He attempted to speak English with you tirelessly to impress you, despite you having learned Korean and you tirelessly reminding him that you were fluent in his native tongue because it was a requirement of your job. You always attempted to carry an air of professionalism consistently, but Jungkook broke the persona effortlessly without much thought.

After a successful American tour, all of the production team arranged a small dinner with the BTS members to celebrate a fruitful tour and to thank everyone, but namely you. It was then that Jungkook really let loose and poured himself out to you — most of your conversations on tours were maximum three minutes at a time, a short “hi” or “how are you” while running helter-skelter — but this time, he had followed you out to the restaurant’s exterior for some air in the midst of the members and other production staff engaging in excruciatingly painful karaoke.

Between you stepping outside and the two cigarettes that Jungkook went through, you became hyper aware of the fact that you were falling for him hard.

He made it clear that he too had fallen for you.

So where does that leave you?

In bed crying?

The soft dark sheets seemingly cradled you, a small bunny plush in your grip, its brown ears mopping up your salty tears that fell incessantly. The rest of the apartment was eerily quiet and dark besides the sobs that wracked your body like a fever of sorrow that you couldn’t quite shake off and the soft glow of your phone screen.

BTS’ management had made the executive decision to make you and Jungkook’s relationship public — after months of him begging them to do so — and so the articles started rolling in since morning. Dispatch, Pop Crave, TMZ among countless other pop gossip pages and websites spread the news like the gospel. Of course, there was a chorus of people in support of your relationship — but whether or not it was louder than the hate, you weren’t sure.

Your Instagram and Twitter DMs became flooded with the most horrendous string of words and phrases you had ever seen in your life. You had been threatened endlessly, your baby pictures that had harmlessly been on your mother’s Facebook page became warped and edited with the most heinous things. Your comments (before you had limited them) were littered with fans egregiously slut shaming you, thousands of puking emojis, thousands more of poop emojis. Even as you laid there, hiccuping through your devastated sobs, your phone maintained its light with more and more notifications of hate rolling in. HYBE had already issued a warning threatening legal action, but it was of no use.

In that moment, as the saltiness of tears was the only thing your tongue could confess, your lip twisted into a quivering frown, the gentle fur of the toy in your grasp interrupted by wetness, your eyes burning and sore from unadulterated sorrow, the darkness in the room and the light of your mobile further drawing you into maddening misery — you were a shell of a woman. You had dealt with the most overindulgent music artists, been dealt harrowing words from your superiors, ran yourself on nothing but coffee and determination for 24 hours straight, but nothing seemed to come close to how awful you felt now. Your heart ached with an ache you had never previously felt before.

You had been so overcome by your own emotions that you missed the familiar melodic beeps that coincided with Jungkook’s arrival. He had rushed from dance practice, hurriedly packed away his damp sweat towel, looped the elastic of the dark face mask around his bejewelled ears while racing down the corridors, bundled himself into his arranged transportation with an air of urgency and insistence that pulled onto the threads of his heart urgently. However, now that he had set foot in your shared apartment, the young man had become eerily unsure.

He had spent most of his day scrolling through social media and running through his pack of cigarettes at an alarming pace. Jungkook was not new to this — he had been subjected to intense criticism from the most audacious rumors stemming from seemingly wearing something similar to another female idol, or even a small interaction with one that was so insignificant that he couldn’t even recall them if he were asked. This was different. you didn’t ask for this. You wanted to proudly be Jeon Jungkook’s partner, to freely post about your cute text messages, the gifts he showers you with — to be a normal couple. You didn’t ask to be in this shit storm that had been created. For that, he was devastated.

He had tried hopelessly to text and call you where his schedule allowed. The last time he had called you was that morning right before the news broke. You were elated. There was a sweet relief in your tone that was infectious and Jungkook couldn’t help but to succumb to its effects. It wasn't long after that you became unavailable, gradually distancing yourself with every comment, every message, every email that laid out just how disgusting you were, how you were unworthy of being in Jungkook's life.

The air in the apartment was thick with something that the singer could not describe. It was so stifling, he immediately shed himself of his mask, cap, boots and backpack at the front door. If he wasn’t nervous before, he was definitely anxious now. His socks padded along the wooden floorboards, barely making a peep, as he made his way to the bedroom. Just as he found the door ajar, the sound of your wrecked sobs was enough to stop him in his tracks for a long minute. He too needed to take the time to swallow down the lump in his throat that had seemingly formed out of nowhere. Nonetheless, this was his cross to carry and not yours. Nudging the door open with his foot, his eyebrows set a deep frown at the sight of your body, completely enveloped in the sheets, turned away from the door. You shook a little from the extent at which your weeps rippled through your person, so much so that you even missed his presence at the door.

It was only when you felt his arms wrap around you, the grieves of your voice became relieving.

He pressed his face into your neck, pressing the smallest pecks against your warm skin. His body was cold from the evening winds that had whipped around him, but it did wonders in beginning to anchor your body in what seemed to be lost and flailing in your despair. For what seemed like hours, his presence vouched for him in what all the words in the world could not say. His soft humming of a love song, his thumb stroking the back of your hand which still held onto your bunny plush, his soft, sweet caresses of his lips — they all dwindled your spiralling state into one of peace, reducing your previous weeping to residual hiccups and tear stained cheeks.

“It was all so.. bad,” you managed after some time. you still did not have the heart to turn around and face him. His humming had stopped as soon as you had opened your mouth, but his other calling ministrations continued, a nonverbal way of encouraging you to continue voicing your feelings. So, you did.

“It’s everywhere I look. It's like I can’t escape it and I feel like maybe I deserve it.” Towards the end of your sentence, your words got caught in your throat once again and fresh tears welled up in your eyes, shamelessly threatening to spill over. There was no better time to use his words.

“Did you burn down an orphanage?” He spoke simply. The comment, so bizarre and out of place, was enough to draw a small smile across your mouth. “Not quite,” you had quipped, almost incredulous of the sudden conversational detour. It was then you finally moved to face him, one hand raising to press against his clothed chest. You could see, even through the darkness, his facial expression softened at the dimmed sight of your face. Though there wasn’t much he could see, the moonlight through the window did enough to reflect the wetness of your eyelashes, the lightly colored streaks staining your skin, your eyes looking so fatigued and low. You’d been through hell and back within a day, and Jungkook wasn’t there to brave the flames along your side. Still, he couldn’t stop what he had started.

“Then why on earth would you deserve the shit they’re saying to you?” His voice had an edge to it — as if there was venom he was trying so desperately to keep at bay but was seeping to the surface despite his efforts. Your voice was lost on you, unable to gather the words that had been whirring in your brain nonstop for hours. Your gaze dropped, as if to be looking for the words in the bedsheets.

“Hey,” his voice smoothed. He raised his inked arm to your face, where his pointer finger tucked itself underneath your chin and forced you to raise your gaze to meet his own. His eyes were strong, stoic yet gentle, emphatic. “You’re perfect, Y/N. Everything about you. You're perfect for me and they don’t see that,” his voice whispered, and for a moment you think he might shed a tear from how unstable his voice became at the tail of his sentence.

“I’m sorry that you’re going through this alone. I know we wanted this but you didn’t sign up for… whatever this is.” The finger propping your chin upwards moved to the flesh of your cheek, lovingly tracing the trails of sadness. You found your head nodding, finally receiving what he was pouring into you. “We’re gonna sue every last one of those losers blowing your phone up, okay? The only thing….” A kiss on the cheek. “…that matters…” A kiss on the forehead. “…is me and you.” A kiss on the lips. By the end of his little monologue, a small smile had finally reappeared on your face. Jungkook couldn’t have been more grateful to return the color back into your vision.

“I love you,” you grinned. You finally moved in and pressed your lips against his, soft and gentle. Jungkook, however, was not going for that. He quickly deepened the kiss, with his other hand moving to cup the back of your neck. His lips moved slowly against yours, painfully unhurried, yet so deep he stole the breath from your mouth. His lip rings pressed into your own naked ones, bound to leave a temporary dent in the pink. He was staking his claim on you. It was a kiss that gave you all the reassurance the world could possibly muster for you. The rhythm he established was so pleasing, it drew a soft moan into his own mouth. After a stretched minute, he was the one to break the kiss and rest his forehead against yours, breathless.

“Of course, I've wanted to do 73 questions with Vogue since forever! “ You shared with a laugh, leading Joe and the filming crew to the opening living room. The cameraman following you two a bit closer.

 “So, y/n, this year you're nominated for ‘Best Actress in a Leading role’, what does that feel like?" Joe asked, waving his hand for Ellie to move closer and capture a better angle of you and him. 

She shuffled around, keeping her knees bent as she looked through the lenses. Ellie's right eye was squinting repeatedly as she tried keeping the camera focused with all the movement.

“It's so crazy, I never thought I would get this far, let alone own a home by 25. Which is a whole story for another day.” You whispered, acting like the admission of it was life-changing.

“Your work on The Substance was incredible, I was literally gagged.” Ellie watched you laugh with her boss, your smile through the camera was so infectious. Almost sweet, like you were originally made from candy and then came alive to bless the world. 

“You're gonna make me blush, Joe! Can I get you and your crew some water? It's a long drive to get here from Vogue.”

One by one, you handed the filming crew glasses full of iced water. When you got to Ellie, she was already staring at you. Her eyes focused on you through a large mirror in the kitchen backslash.

“Sorry, we ran out of glasses—I hope a mug is okay with you?” Oh, you really were just like candy. 

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” Ellie offered with a laugh, ears burning as you playfully winked at her —the smell of your luxury perfume invaded her nose. 

“Really? Sometimes I feel like we're such a host for not having enough glasses—”

“Y/n, We need to keep you on schedule.” Your presumed agent interrupted, giving Ellie a judgemental lookover as she grabbed you by the arm and waved for an assistant to fix your hair again.

“Oh, nice to meet you—!” You whispered to Ellie with a nervous laugh. Your own face betraying you as you blushed with embarrassment.The giggles you shared with your agent echoed in the kitchen as you walked away. 

For the next two hours, Ellie's boss asked you questions about your acting career and how you managed to survive your newfound stardom from The Substance.

Ellie learned some new interesting stuff about you too. Like what your favorite color was and how you only wear Gucci Jasmine for special occasions, like a first date. 

She thought you were sweet. 

Especially when you laughed at all of Joe's crappy questions, and made him feel like the only person in the room. Even though there was Ellie and a film crew behind him.

“Thanks for having us, y/n. You really do have such a vibrant home. “ Ellie overheard Joe, rolling her eyes at his buttercup-suckup demeanor that he did with every celebrity at the end of 73 questions.

“Of course, Joe. You and your crew were wonderful.” You admitted, sparing a glance at Ellie’s backside. God, please let her be into women. 

Joe's phone rang and he excused himself from you with a smile, waving goodbye as he stepped out and left the door wide open. 

You tapped Ellie on the shoulder with a nervous smile, looking around to make sure your agent, Regina, wasn’t in the room.

“Hey, what’s your name?” It wasn’t just curiosity that killed the femme in you, but also revived it. And Ellie was one big handsome curiosity that your brain couldn't wait to satisfy. 

Ellie looked around before pointing at herself, just to make sure. Which rewarded her with a genuine laugh from you, and a reassuring nod that was accompanied by a smile. “Yeah, I’m talking to you.”

“Oh–”Fuck, Joe was gonna kill Ellie if she upset you. “–I’m Ellie, Ellie Williams. I work for Joe, mainly.” Ellie watched your smile get bigger as she went on, not sure if she said something funny that made her get a smile from you, or if you were just the happiest person on earth. 

“Well, hi Ellie, I’m Y/n—I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner...with me.” Ellie’s eyes almost bulged out of her head. 

You, as in THE y/n l/n wanted to get dinner with her? 

As in Ellie ‘that never has enough money for her own weed and has to steal from Jesse’ Williams? 

There was no fucking way.

“Oh–I’m sorry, I just assumed you were into women and—”

“ I am–I am into women.” She stopped your apology, her hand going for your own to reassure you before you could go into a rant on how she didn’t have to accept your stupid apology.

“oh—”

“I just assumed you were the one that wasn't into women since y’know—” you raised an eyebrow, right hand resting on your hip with a fierce demeanor. “—you're an actress who plays ditzy characters?” Ellie finished with a high voice, nervous from your demeanor. 

You gasped, placing a hand over your heart and acting hurt. “How dare you? Elle Woods is more than just a dumb blonde—well, in my heart she is.” 

Ellie laughed, rubbing the back of her neck with a smile on her face. You were oddly more human and funny than she expected—especially from the interviews she watched the week before. 

Joe has everybody research the celebrity they're filming a week prior so they don't look like idiots and fuck up.

“—So what do you say about dinner, Ellie?” You brought Ellie out of her thoughts. Looking at her with expectant eyes as you kept a smile and played with your hands out of nervousness.

“Yeah, definitely, dinner with you sounds great—amazing, actually.” Ellie accepted your offer with a nervous smile, face hot from being asked out. 

Usually, Ellie was the one doing the ‘asking out’ part and it never ended in a good way. She always got stood up or rejected immediately. 

Your eyes lit up with excitement at Ellie’s words. “Let me get your phone number—Can somebody get me a notepad? And a pen, please!” The assistant from earlier scrambled to take her earpiece out, “No problem, Ms. Y/n”, and ran off to find a notepad.

Ellie laughed, putting her back to the wall as she watched you wait expectantly for a notepad and pen. Your left hand already out as you maintained eye contact with her. “What’s so funny, Ellie Williams?”

Ellie whistled, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing’s funny, except how that poor girl ran off like her life was at stake.” She was entertained by the way people acted around you.

You smiled, rolling your eyes at her commentary. “Please, I’m not a bitch—it’s Regina that you have to worry about. She treats them like they’re at a bootcamp, but she’s nice, I promise–” The assistant came back, face red and panting like a dog as she placed the notepad and pen in your hand. “Here you go, Ms. Y/n.”

“Thank you, Gretchen. You can go home since we’re done here.” Gretchen smiled and nodded at your words, quietly thanking you and Ellie before walking away.

“So, what was your phone number again?” 

“I thought the other place was yours?” Ellie asked, confused by the sudden change of scenery when meeting at your real house.

“No, it's a shoot location that Regina rents for home interviews, she says it's to avoid any stalkers.” You murmur, face grim at the thought of having a stalker.

“Oh, that's smart of her.” Ellie agreed, looking around the cozy apartment that was littered with framed photos of you and your family.

“Yeah, she really looks out for me. Sorry that we're not at a big fancy restaurant—I wanted it to be.. real—or like...genuine? Does that make sense?”

Ellie followed you into the dining room, it was almost Mediterranean-like, terracotta floors lining the conjoined kitchen and a mosaic backslash that spread throughout the room and into the entryway arch. It felt lived-in and not like the bleak-lifeless kitchen from the shooting location. 

Ellie furrowed her eyebrows, confused on why you were apologizing.“Don't apologize, I know what you mean, it's like—. “

She stopped, trying to make better sense of her words before continuing. “—You want to make it special, like your perfume.”

You turned back, eyes soft at how she remembered that fact about your perfume. “Yeah, exactly like that. I’m–I'm wearing it right now, actually.”

oh. 

oh, that makes Ellie feel special, way more special than she originally did when you asked her out for dinner earlier.

“Oh, that's why you smell really good. “ Ellie acknowledged, feeling her cheeks grow warm at the thought of admitting that out loud. 

A warmth stirred in your chest as you turned around. Trying to focus on not burning the lasagna, you couldn't help but smile at Ellie's words anyway. 

“I—I made lasagna, I hope that's okay with you, Ellie? “ You faltered, putting on pink oven mitts.

“That smells so good, I'm not even lying to you. “ Ellie told you, moving forward to lean on the counter and move out of your way. 

“You can thank Pinterest for that.” You whispered with a laugh, shuffling towards the table and setting the pink ceramic dish onto the table. 

Ellie's laughter mixed with the sound of your own, eyes shut as she imagined you spilling Dr. Pepper all over Sofia Coppola. 

A gentle pout formed on your lips as you watched her tear up over your embarrassing moment. ”Stop, it’s not even that funny—Sofia was literally in a white shirt too." 

Ellie's lips stretched into a thin smile, feeling loose from the cherry wine you had corked for the two of you. “C’mon, it's a little funny” she teased, downing the rest of her wine. 

You giggled, a smile ghosting over your own lips. “Whatever, it's not like when you basically told Joel that you were a massive lesbian. “ Ellie cringed, squeezing her eyes shut again. 

“Oh my god—I already regret telling you that, it was just a stupid prank I was pulling with Catherine—”

“–yeah where Joel called her your girlfriend and you went bright red like a tomato. “

A slow, flirtatious smile crawled on Ellie’s face, eyes focusing on you with a gentle look. “Yeah and ten years later, I'm totally a ladies man. “

“Right—because me asking you out for dinner, was Ellie ‘the ladies man’ Williams asking me out.. “. 

“Yup, glad we got that cleared up.” Ellie chirped, leaning back in the dining chair with her arms behind her head. 

“Totally, Ellie.” You sing-songed, bringing your glass to your lips, hiding your charmed smile behind it. 

“Ellie, you don't have to help me clean up—stop, you're my guest.” You added, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched Ellie collect the dirty plates. 

Ellie hummed, pivoting towards the kitchen sink. Converse thudding against the terracotta-lined floor. “I know, but it felt rude not to—you did all the hard work. “

You lifted yourself up on the counter, shoulders slumped and tired from the day. You couldn't help it either, Ellie made you feel warm, like a hot summer night under the stars.

It was a nice feeling. 

A feeling you haven't felt in a really long time.

The silence crept in between the two of you. You watched Ellie wash the dirty plates, and Ellie watched you watch her. Slowly, the cogs turned and Ellie finished washing the dishes, still staring at you as she dried her hands off. 

She got closer. 

Like there was gravitational force that was pulling her towards you. A pull that neither of you could control, but didn't want to stop either.

“I—Thank you for... inviting me—” Ellie started, eyes flitting from your face to anywhere else in the kitchen, heat building up in her cheeks.

You interrupted, “–of course, I wanted to.” 

Ellie was sweet, and you found her attractive in every way possible.

 Her freckles looked like the starry night, and her Auburn hair reminded you of a sunset in the west-coast, near the ocean shoreline. Why would you not want to invite her? Ellie was perfect. 

So your gaze lingered on her, eyes stuck on her lips as you went on in your head. Your hand stretched out to hers, begging her to close the space between you two. 

Ellie was hesitant, her chest feeling heavy as she inched closer to your lips. 

Her lips were rough, almost like sandpaper, but still pillowy against your own. You could feel the soft tickle of her breath, your own nose tickling the edge of her cupid's bow. She tasted like the cherry wine from earlier, expensive and bitter. It suited her so much better, unlike anything else you could've imagined.

Warmth spread across Ellie's face, sparks igniting in her brain as she pressed deeper against you. The smell of her cologne was subtle, but it oozed confidence and you could tell by the way her hand was grabbing your face.

The palm of Ellie’s hand was holding the back of your neck as she pulled you closer, sliding you off the counter and forcing you to wrap your arms and legs around her, as she moved you to the couch in your living room. 

“Just hol’ on for me, baby." Ellie whispered around your lips, pulling away from you before diving back in. A string of saliva connecting the two of you. 

The smell of your perfume flooded Ellie’s senses—heat, sweat, and the Gucci Jasmine that made you smell terrifyingly sweet. Ellie moaned into your pussy, her tongue lapped at it greedily, almost so desperate that it felt like you were the only thing keeping her from starving out, or worse. 

The sounds you made had her going faster. Every moan and swear that stuttered was fuel to Ellie. It encouraged her, made her work harder, making sure that her only (possible) chance to eat you out was perfect—even if it made her short of breath. 

Ellie was not gonna leave you dissatisfied, she couldn't—wouldn’t fuck this up. 

You grinded down on Ellie’s face recklessly, chasing her tongue to forcefully use it for your own pleasure—an act that drove Ellie crazy.  It made her already dizzy mind spin with how greedy you were being—if you wanted something, you were going to get it. 

You moaned, twisting your fingers into Ellie's hair. “Fuck, Ellie—you're so good at this. I wanna–fuck–I'm so close, els." 

Ellie moaned in response, her hands clinging tighter to your hips as she let you chase your own orgasm and ride it out. She let you rut harder along her tongue, chin, and nose. Whatever you wanted from her, Ellie was gonna give it to you. She was helpless when it came to you, even if she had only known you for a couple hours at this point

You started to tremble, your hips were jerking erratically, your hands grabbed at the arm of the couch for balance. Ellie was dazed, the sight of you being ruined by her was nearly enough to make her cum on her own. 

Your face was entirely red, flustered-like—and your lips were parted for air. The hair behind your shoulder was tussled into a knotted mess from earlier. 

The sight was heavenly to her. 

There was nothing in the world that could compete even close to the sight of you post-orgasm.

“That was so fucking hot.”

You choked, wincing at the overstimulation of her breath hitting your clit.

taglist: @shadowmythe @liztreez @andieprincessofpower @valeisaslut @satellitespinner @bambi-luvs @mischievous-darling-deactivated

“Of course, I've wanted to do 73 questions with Vogue since forever! “ You shared with a laugh, leading Joe and the filming crew to the opening living room. The cameraman following you two a bit closer.

 “So, y/n, this year you're nominated for ‘Best Actress in a Leading role’, what does that feel like?" Joe asked, waving his hand for Ellie to move closer and capture a better angle of you and him. 

She shuffled around, keeping her knees bent as she looked through the lenses. Ellie's right eye was squinting repeatedly as she tried keeping the camera focused with all the movement.

“It's so crazy, I never thought I would get this far, let alone own a home by 25. Which is a whole story for another day.” You whispered, acting like the admission of it was life-changing.

“Your work on The Substance was incredible, I was literally gagged.” Ellie watched you laugh with her boss, your smile through the camera was so infectious. Almost sweet, like you were originally made from candy and then came alive to bless the world. 

“You're gonna make me blush, Joe! Can I get you and your crew some water? It's a long drive to get here from Vogue.”

One by one, you handed the filming crew glasses full of iced water. When you got to Ellie, she was already staring at you. Her eyes focused on you through a large mirror in the kitchen backslash.

“Sorry, we ran out of glasses—I hope a mug is okay with you?” Oh, you really were just like candy. 

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” Ellie offered with a laugh, ears burning as you playfully winked at her —the smell of your luxury perfume invaded her nose. 

“Really? Sometimes I feel like we're such a host for not having enough glasses—”

“Y/n, We need to keep you on schedule.” Your presumed agent interrupted, giving Ellie a judgemental lookover as she grabbed you by the arm and waved for an assistant to fix your hair again.

“Oh, nice to meet you—!” You whispered to Ellie with a nervous laugh. Your own face betraying you as you blushed with embarrassment.The giggles you shared with your agent echoed in the kitchen as you walked away. 

For the next two hours, Ellie's boss asked you questions about your acting career and how you managed to survive your newfound stardom from The Substance.

Ellie learned some new interesting stuff about you too. Like what your favorite color was and how you only wear Gucci Jasmine for special occasions, like a first date. 

She thought you were sweet. 

Especially when you laughed at all of Joe's crappy questions, and made him feel like the only person in the room. Even though there was Ellie and a film crew behind him.

“Thanks for having us, y/n. You really do have such a vibrant home. “ Ellie overheard Joe, rolling her eyes at his buttercup-suckup demeanor that he did with every celebrity at the end of 73 questions.

“Of course, Joe. You and your crew were wonderful.” You admitted, sparing a glance at Ellie’s backside. God, please let her be into women. 

Joe's phone rang and he excused himself from you with a smile, waving goodbye as he stepped out and left the door wide open. 

You tapped Ellie on the shoulder with a nervous smile, looking around to make sure your agent, Regina, wasn’t in the room.

“Hey, what’s your name?” It wasn’t just curiosity that killed the femme in you, but also revived it. And Ellie was one big handsome curiosity that your brain couldn't wait to satisfy. 

Ellie looked around before pointing at herself, just to make sure. Which rewarded her with a genuine laugh from you, and a reassuring nod that was accompanied by a smile. “Yeah, I’m talking to you.”

“Oh–”Fuck, Joe was gonna kill Ellie if she upset you. “–I’m Ellie, Ellie Williams. I work for Joe, mainly.” Ellie watched your smile get bigger as she went on, not sure if she said something funny that made her get a smile from you, or if you were just the happiest person on earth. 

“Well, hi Ellie, I’m Y/n—I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner...with me.” Ellie’s eyes almost bulged out of her head. 

You, as in THE y/n l/n wanted to get dinner with her? 

As in Ellie ‘that never has enough money for her own weed and has to steal from Jesse’ Williams? 

There was no fucking way.

“Oh–I’m sorry, I just assumed you were into women and—”

“ I am–I am into women.” She stopped your apology, her hand going for your own to reassure you before you could go into a rant on how she didn’t have to accept your stupid apology.

“oh—”

“I just assumed you were the one that wasn't into women since y’know—” you raised an eyebrow, right hand resting on your hip with a fierce demeanor. “—you're an actress who plays ditzy characters?” Ellie finished with a high voice, nervous from your demeanor. 

You gasped, placing a hand over your heart and acting hurt. “How dare you? Elle Woods is more than just a dumb blonde—well, in my heart she is.” 

Ellie laughed, rubbing the back of her neck with a smile on her face. You were oddly more human and funny than she expected—especially from the interviews she watched the week before. 

Joe has everybody research the celebrity they're filming a week prior so they don't look like idiots and fuck up.

“—So what do you say about dinner, Ellie?” You brought Ellie out of her thoughts. Looking at her with expectant eyes as you kept a smile and played with your hands out of nervousness.

“Yeah, definitely, dinner with you sounds great—amazing, actually.” Ellie accepted your offer with a nervous smile, face hot from being asked out. 

Usually, Ellie was the one doing the ‘asking out’ part and it never ended in a good way. She always got stood up or rejected immediately. 

Your eyes lit up with excitement at Ellie’s words. “Let me get your phone number—Can somebody get me a notepad? And a pen, please!” The assistant from earlier scrambled to take her earpiece out, “No problem, Ms. Y/n”, and ran off to find a notepad.

Ellie laughed, putting her back to the wall as she watched you wait expectantly for a notepad and pen. Your left hand already out as you maintained eye contact with her. “What’s so funny, Ellie Williams?”

Ellie whistled, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing’s funny, except how that poor girl ran off like her life was at stake.” She was entertained by the way people acted around you.

You smiled, rolling your eyes at her commentary. “Please, I’m not a bitch—it’s Regina that you have to worry about. She treats them like they’re at a bootcamp, but she’s nice, I promise–” The assistant came back, face red and panting like a dog as she placed the notepad and pen in your hand. “Here you go, Ms. Y/n.”

“Thank you, Gretchen. You can go home since we’re done here.” Gretchen smiled and nodded at your words, quietly thanking you and Ellie before walking away.

“So, what was your phone number again?” 

“I thought the other place was yours?” Ellie asked, confused by the sudden change of scenery when meeting at your real house.

“No, it's a shoot location that Regina rents for home interviews, she says it's to avoid any stalkers.” You murmur, face grim at the thought of having a stalker.

“Oh, that's smart of her.” Ellie agreed, looking around the cozy apartment that was littered with framed photos of you and your family.

“Yeah, she really looks out for me. Sorry that we're not at a big fancy restaurant—I wanted it to be.. real—or like...genuine? Does that make sense?”

Ellie followed you into the dining room, it was almost Mediterranean-like, terracotta floors lining the conjoined kitchen and a mosaic backslash that spread throughout the room and into the entryway arch. It felt lived-in and not like the bleak-lifeless kitchen from the shooting location. 

Ellie furrowed her eyebrows, confused on why you were apologizing.“Don't apologize, I know what you mean, it's like—. “

She stopped, trying to make better sense of her words before continuing. “—You want to make it special, like your perfume.”

You turned back, eyes soft at how she remembered that fact about your perfume. “Yeah, exactly like that. I’m–I'm wearing it right now, actually.”

oh. 

oh, that makes Ellie feel special, way more special than she originally did when you asked her out for dinner earlier.

“Oh, that's why you smell really good. “ Ellie acknowledged, feeling her cheeks grow warm at the thought of admitting that out loud. 

A warmth stirred in your chest as you turned around. Trying to focus on not burning the lasagna, you couldn't help but smile at Ellie's words anyway. 

“I—I made lasagna, I hope that's okay with you, Ellie? “ You faltered, putting on pink oven mitts.

“That smells so good, I'm not even lying to you. “ Ellie told you, moving forward to lean on the counter and move out of your way. 

“You can thank Pinterest for that.” You whispered with a laugh, shuffling towards the table and setting the pink ceramic dish onto the table. 

Ellie's laughter mixed with the sound of your own, eyes shut as she imagined you spilling Dr. Pepper all over Sofia Coppola. 

A gentle pout formed on your lips as you watched her tear up over your embarrassing moment. ”Stop, it’s not even that funny—Sofia was literally in a white shirt too." 

Ellie's lips stretched into a thin smile, feeling loose from the cherry wine you had corked for the two of you. “C’mon, it's a little funny” she teased, downing the rest of her wine. 

You giggled, a smile ghosting over your own lips. “Whatever, it's not like when you basically told Joel that you were a massive lesbian. “ Ellie cringed, squeezing her eyes shut again. 

“Oh my god—I already regret telling you that, it was just a stupid prank I was pulling with Catherine—”

“–yeah where Joel called her your girlfriend and you went bright red like a tomato. “

A slow, flirtatious smile crawled on Ellie’s face, eyes focusing on you with a gentle look. “Yeah and ten years later, I'm totally a ladies man. “

“Right—because me asking you out for dinner, was Ellie ‘the ladies man’ Williams asking me out.. “. 

“Yup, glad we got that cleared up.” Ellie chirped, leaning back in the dining chair with her arms behind her head. 

“Totally, Ellie.” You sing-songed, bringing your glass to your lips, hiding your charmed smile behind it. 

“Ellie, you don't have to help me clean up—stop, you're my guest.” You added, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched Ellie collect the dirty plates. 

Ellie hummed, pivoting towards the kitchen sink. Converse thudding against the terracotta-lined floor. “I know, but it felt rude not to—you did all the hard work. “

You lifted yourself up on the counter, shoulders slumped and tired from the day. You couldn't help it either, Ellie made you feel warm, like a hot summer night under the stars.

It was a nice feeling. 

A feeling you haven't felt in a really long time.

The silence crept in between the two of you. You watched Ellie wash the dirty plates, and Ellie watched you watch her. Slowly, the cogs turned and Ellie finished washing the dishes, still staring at you as she dried her hands off. 

She got closer. 

Like there was gravitational force that was pulling her towards you. A pull that neither of you could control, but didn't want to stop either.

“I—Thank you for... inviting me—” Ellie started, eyes flitting from your face to anywhere else in the kitchen, heat building up in her cheeks.

You interrupted, “–of course, I wanted to.” 

Ellie was sweet, and you found her attractive in every way possible.

 Her freckles looked like the starry night, and her Auburn hair reminded you of a sunset in the west-coast, near the ocean shoreline. Why would you not want to invite her? Ellie was perfect. 

So your gaze lingered on her, eyes stuck on her lips as you went on in your head. Your hand stretched out to hers, begging her to close the space between you two. 

Ellie was hesitant, her chest feeling heavy as she inched closer to your lips. 

Her lips were rough, almost like sandpaper, but still pillowy against your own. You could feel the soft tickle of her breath, your own nose tickling the edge of her cupid's bow. She tasted like the cherry wine from earlier, expensive and bitter. It suited her so much better, unlike anything else you could've imagined.

Warmth spread across Ellie's face, sparks igniting in her brain as she pressed deeper against you. The smell of her cologne was subtle, but it oozed confidence and you could tell by the way her hand was grabbing your face.

The palm of Ellie’s hand was holding the back of your neck as she pulled you closer, sliding you off the counter and forcing you to wrap your arms and legs around her, as she moved you to the couch in your living room. 

“Just hol’ on for me, baby." Ellie whispered around your lips, pulling away from you before diving back in. A string of saliva connecting the two of you. 

The smell of your perfume flooded Ellie’s senses—heat, sweat, and the Gucci Jasmine that made you smell terrifyingly sweet. Ellie moaned into your pussy, her tongue lapped at it greedily, almost so desperate that it felt like you were the only thing keeping her from starving out, or worse. 

The sounds you made had her going faster. Every moan and swear that stuttered was fuel to Ellie. It encouraged her, made her work harder, making sure that her only (possible) chance to eat you out was perfect—even if it made her short of breath. 

Ellie was not gonna leave you dissatisfied, she couldn't—wouldn’t fuck this up. 

You grinded down on Ellie’s face recklessly, chasing her tongue to forcefully use it for your own pleasure—an act that drove Ellie crazy.  It made her already dizzy mind spin with how greedy you were being—if you wanted something, you were going to get it. 

You moaned, twisting your fingers into Ellie's hair. “Fuck, Ellie—you're so good at this. I wanna–fuck–I'm so close, els." 

Ellie moaned in response, her hands clinging tighter to your hips as she let you chase your own orgasm and ride it out. She let you rut harder along her tongue, chin, and nose. Whatever you wanted from her, Ellie was gonna give it to you. She was helpless when it came to you, even if she had only known you for a couple hours at this point

You started to tremble, your hips were jerking erratically, your hands grabbed at the arm of the couch for balance. Ellie was dazed, the sight of you being ruined by her was nearly enough to make her cum on her own. 

Your face was entirely red, flustered-like—and your lips were parted for air. The hair behind your shoulder was tussled into a knotted mess from earlier. 

The sight was heavenly to her. 

There was nothing in the world that could compete even close to the sight of you post-orgasm.

“That was so fucking hot.”

You choked, wincing at the overstimulation of her breath hitting your clit.

taglist: @shadowmythe @liztreez @andieprincessofpower @valeisaslut @satellitespinner @bambi-luvs @mischievous-darling-deactivated