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You didn't know why you assumed Ellie wouldn't be at a party like this. It was a frat, and those were always Ellie's best customers. She was their chosen dealer, supplying them with a seemingly-endless amount of weed that had every letter in the Greek alphabet begging her to attend their party that Saturday, not someone else's.

So, you kind of felt stupid when you pranced in behind your friends, already tipsy from pregaming in your ridiculously tight dress and gogo boots and nearly ran face first into her back.

"Oh, shit, fuck -- I'm really sorry," you said, the words uncontrollably tumbling out of your mouth like vomit as you continued, your face still at her shoulder-level until the shock wore off and you finally looked up.

Ellie smirked down at you, leaning against the wall next to her as she held up her cup a little too high up, just above your head, keeping it clear of you.

"Damn, you're a little dangerous there, huh?" She said, raising her eyebrows as her eyes raked over you, ogling your appearance like a piece of candy left out on a platter for her, eat me written so delicately across the expanse of your exposed cleavage.

"Yeah," you giggled out, pushing a piece of hair out of your face. The strobing lights caught on the glistening spit of Ellie's tongue as she licked her lips, taking another sip as her gaze returned unabashedly to your face, still waiting for any leverage she could latch her fangs on to.

After an awkward pause, you cleared your throat.

"So, um, how's business?" You said, trying to make some conversation, but it came out too formal, to standoffish.

You averted your eyes, cringing and mentally cursing yourself, but your cheeks turned pink as you looked right at Ellie's arm, propping herself up against the wall in a way that had her bicep practically bulging out of her tight black tee shirt.

"Business's fine," she murmured against the lip of her cup. "You don't seem the type to really care about that sorta thing, though."

Fuck, you were staring.

You looked back up, blushing even darker when you saw the knowing look in her eyes, her teeth grazing the plump baby pink of her lower lip. Your mind raced as you fidgeted with your hands, trying to come up with anything to play her acknowledgement off in a way that wasn't even more embarrassing, but the words weren't even in your throat, let alone on the tip of your tongue. All your brain was mashing together was a terrified chorus of fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck--

"Relax," she said after a moment, chuckling as she leaned down some to your height. "'M not interrogating you, it's not my business what you do."

"No, you're right," you admitted after a moment, happy with any words coming out of your mouth, even if they admitted how lame you were. "Kinda have my head stuck in different clouds, I guess."

Ellie snorted, rolling her eyes. She held this sort of lazy boredom in her soft smirk and hooded gaze that made you feel plain stupid, like she knew more than you. That she was so high and mighty she couldn't even be bothered to like, fucking stand up straight or give you the time of day. You were surprised she was still even talking to you, let alone that she knew who you were --

"You've heard about me?"

Again, word vomit. It lurched out of you before you could stop it, and out loud it sounded like the same voice you used in your head to narrate your god damn diary. You felt more stupid, and you wished you had your own drink to hide behind.

And jesusfuckingchrist, Ellie full on grinned down at you. She had a strand of hair falling out of the front of her half-up/down/left/right shit thing she's always had going on, the one that made you sometimes wonder if she even knows how to do a real ponytail, and then after that thought you always realized you were staring at the back of her head in the middle of --

"English, right?" She said, tilting her head some. "You sit like, two rows behind me?"

"Yeah, when you show up."

Good god, you should've taken it easier earlier. Who thought multiple rounds of shots was a sane pregame?

Ellie seemed almost surprised at your banter though, and her laugh seemed to stutter a bit as she admitted defeat, putting her hands up in mock surrender. The drink in her hand sloshed a bit as she did so, but she didn't seem to care.

"Damn, you noticed?" She said, almost weirded out for a second, and you could tell. "Do I look good from the back or something?"

It's so embarrassing, and you desperately tried to claw yourself out from the uncomfortableness of it all.

"I mean, yeah, you always look good," you said, attempting to direct the conversation elsewhere, something you could actually work with before you made yourself an excuse to skip class every Tuesday and Thursday morning. She didn't seem very impressed. Maybe you were laying it on too lightly? "Now, too. You look like, really good."

"Really?" She said, a glimmer of something in her eyes seeming to catch on to what you were so pathetically trying to make happen.""S just my usual."

"Your usual is really hot," you said, still fiddling with your hands as you gave her a hopeful smile, trying to really put it on thick.

Her eyebrows raised again, and she set her drink down in the table next to her. Her jaw was sharper than a butcher's knife, and you were trying not to salivate like a freaking dog at her exposed neck when she turned back, grinning.

Yeah, Ellie got your lame ass pick up.

"Yeah, you think so?" she asked, taking a small step forward, like she was testing the waters, unsure if you would match her energy or run away like the scared little fawn you looked like right now. Ellie's smile seemed to only grown bigger, a bit darker even, as she watched you suck in a small breath, your antsy hands dropping to your side.

"Cause, I've always thought you were really hot," she said, much more quietly. Her voice was like velvet, its richness mixing with the adrenaline coursing through your veins like it had been replaced with a warm chocolate, and you melted under her words.

"Yeah?" You asked, sighing almost dreamily below her.

"Yeah," Ellie murmured. "Didn't want to make you uncomfortable, though. Seems like I make you nervous."

She added a small laugh to the end of her sentence, like it was supposed to be a joke. And god, you knew you were a bit ditzy, but you weren't that stupid, so both of you knew how painfully obvious your reactions were.

"Little bit," you whispered, though you didn't mean to. Her strong arm crowding you in, the scent of her cologne (What was that? Cedarwood maybe? Some lavender?) and the way she was almost pushing you back into the wall all seemed to pull the words out of you like a puppet on strings.

"I make you nervous, sweetheart?" Ellie asked, her eyes lighting up at your admission, fueling her ego. She took in a heavy breath, licking over her teeth as she bore fucking holes into your face.

When you couldn't speak again, she shook her head, reaching back for her drink. She took a sip, watching you expectantly, tauntingly, like she thought you'd collapse under the silence any minute. Then, when it really seemed like you might, she leaned in until you backed yourself up fully against the wall, your bare thighs hitting the coldness with a small squeal.

"Here," she mumbled, holding her solo cup to your lips. Her other hand pushed a bit of hair behind your face, caressing your jaw as she tilted the cup for you, letting you stare up at her like she hung the fucking stars in the sky.

To your demise, inside isn't any colder. Somehow, the heat keeps finding a way to slip through the uneven blinds at the front and well aged doors to keep the store just as warm as it is outside. All chances of sunlight seem to be blocked in a way you can't quite understand, and you suspect the AC unit stopped working a long time ago when you catch a few spiderwebs hanging from the air outlets. The tiled floor is cracked, the shelves are mostly empty, and the fluorescent light keeps flickering at the same rhythm the lined up fridges buzz with electricity. There's no one besides you inside the store, but the humming static coming from a nearby radio alerts you you're not alone.

You get a can of Sprite and sour gummies for Ellie to keep herself entertained while driving, then a merry Cherry Cola that will surely get you bullied as soon as your girlfriend catches you drinking it. When you turn around, there's a man by the cash register, and the sudden appearance makes you jump in your own place. Instantly embarrassed when he's aware of your reaction, you pull down your denim skirt and approach him with the few items you picked. He watches you, gaze unwavering at each of your steps, and your heart starts pumping hard inside your chest when you try to sneak a glance outside and see Ellie giving you her back.

"Hi," you start, weirded out by the man's behaviour. He should be in his late forties, maybe. Long and white beard, piercing blue eyes, a camouflaged cap on his head you only ever see on Ellie's hunting magazines "Could I get a pack of Camels, please?"

He reaches on top of him to get it, then slams the cigarettes down the counter. You flinch, and try to hide it behind clearing your throat.

"And, uh, I'd like one of those crosswords magazines, too."

Stretching his arm behind him, he drops the item on the counter, a green pen attached to the top of the cheap magazine.

"That'd be all."

"12.47."

You scramble with the dollars in your hands, shuffling the right amount in his direction for him to take, but he doesn't move. When you look up, bills still between your fingers, you catch his gaze wavering down the expanse of your clavicle. Burning in the summer heat and boiling at pure indignation point, you scoff and slam your hand down next to your soda can. He jumps, looking at your eyes and still shamelessly sneaking glances down your tank top's low neckline.

"The fuck are you looking at?" you bark, and his coarse and dirty hands fight to coordinate the correct motion to reach out and grab your money. He gets the change, blue eyes peaking from blond eyelashes when you tear the bills and cents from his hands "You're fucking gross, you know that? Wouldn't be surprised if you never felt the touch of a woman. Fucking neanderthal."

Slamming the door behind you, the heat welcomes you like a punch in the face, but anything is better than being kept company by some in-the-middle-of-nowhere-professional-creep. The sun is high and the sky is clear, no clouds looming over to announce a storm or any wind, for that matter. Ellie's carmine truck is parked by the store's corner, nothing to keep the steel safe from the merciless sunlight provided, and the image of getting yourself in those seats —seasoned and cooked by now— only makes you groan in frustration.

You don't mind summer. As long as there's a pool nearby and trees to take a nap under, summer is mostly fine. The heat, however, is forcing you into a threatening huffy mood. You feel your chest already glistening with a thin layer of sweat as you round the corner in the search of Ellie, thighs rubbing uncomfortably with each other under the rigid fabric of your denim skirt as you walk, a teardrop of sticky sweat gliding down your spine.

Ellie's by the bathroom door, leaning against the concrete wall where an ice machine you can't possibly imagine to work is. Your steps alert her you're coming, boots scrunching over dead and long dried cicadas littering the sidewalk, and she stretches out her hand in the search of her cigarettes. You throw them at her and she catches the pack in the air, tearing the plastic away to get to a cigarette as soon as she can. She struggles with her lighter for a few seconds, but eventually manages to lit the end of her beloved tobacco sticks into a fiery orange. After, she opens her can with a tsk that sprays cold soda over her fingers.

She takes a sip, then cleans the corner of her mouth with her naked wrist, "Thanks, babe," you hum, lifting your hair from the back of your neck to rest your own can over the damp skin, and Ellie playfully scoffs "Can't believe I'm dating a Cherry Cola consumer, 's fucking embarrassing."

"Shut up, you like them."

"Never been that low."

The corner of your mouth twists up before you could even think your reply through, or make sure no one's close to hear it, "I wouldn't know, you're usually down way low on me."

She doesn't reply. Instead, smacks her tongue on the roof of her mouth. Cigarette wrapped tight in the left corner of her lips, silver piercing twinkling under the heavy sunlight, Ellie watches you through the syrupy green barrier of her steady gaze. She looks hot, not on terms of her attractiveness but actually warm, sinking in her black and loose tank top and equally as dark short pants. You can't phantom the burning, needle-like sensation expanding through her skin under all those layers of black, but she doesn't seem to mind, too engaged in the activity of stripping you bare with her unwavering unserious glare. Neck exposed to New Mexico's midday sun and the transpiration of your so loved Cherry Coke, Ellie allows herself to wander over all that naked skin on display. Sweaty sternum, sweaty shoulders, and that small sweaty piece of your lower back that peaks from the hem of your shirt and the waist of your skirt when you stretch up, pressing your drink further into your nape to cool yourself down.

She takes a long drag of her cigarette, hand tucked in her front pocket, a chunky silver bracelet with your name engraved in it sparkling on her dainty wrist, "Yeah, you're right."

Ellie doesn't say anything more than that, and you proceed to open your can of soda once it loses enough of its cold temperature. Cherry and coke flood your tastebuds and sparkles up your mood, sweet on the tip of your tongue and metallic on the back, licked away lips catching each drop that slips out when you close your mouth to swallow. Ellie keeps smoking, and you keep drinking, and she keeps watching, and you keep using your crossword magazine as a fan. When you're near the end of your drink, your girlfriend flicks the butt of her cigarette and smudges it on the floor with the heel of her worn out Converse.

"Alright, bathroom and then we go."

You assume she means to use the bathroom, and you nod your way into the small space right behind her when she holds the door open for you. It only has two stalls, one with a broken door and a sign that alerts that the toilet doesn't work, and you turn around to offer Ellie the chance to go first. Except, when you spin on your heels, she's throwing herself at your body and digging in like you're her last meal.

You gasp, taken back, her lips smushed against yours in an open mouth kiss you couldn't begin to see coming and she pushes forward, left hand under your shirt, right one behind your thigh. Closing her arms a little tighter, she presses herself flush against you and stalks forward until your lower back bumps into the sink, harsh and painful when her hips draw against you to pin your body further into the granite counter to make you moan. Her tongue licks into your mouth, already open wide in the desperate search of her contact, and your hands climb to the back of her head to keep her face closer. She doesn't allow you to break apart from her for air too long, never does, pulling back for a quick breath and immediately drawing you in into another heated kiss.

Against her mouth, you gasp her name, and Ellie reacts with a hard grip on your skin, fat and muscle like dough between the angry clutch of her fingers. She keeps pushing her body against yours until she manages to sit you down on the sink, cold against your skin and suspiciously wet, but you can't think about the —hopefully— spilled water bathing the back of your thighs when Ellie slams her hands on your knees and pushes your legs wide around her waist. Her mouth is ripped away from yours to slide lower, down your jaw, behind your ear and along the pulsing point of your jugular, leaving the wet trace of her tongue behind as she licks away your sweat. Bites are scattered across your shoulders, and you writhe under the aggressive affection of her teeth, falling back against the mirror with her weight closely behind until she's almost on top of you.

A harsh bite right on the collarbone, then a gasp in response. Your hips roll forward for friction, the cotton of your underwear grazing the rugid seam of her denim shorts, and Ellie grunts when she's aware of your action, grabbing you by the hips to slide you down the granite until you're pressed flush against her pelvis. Heat keeps simmering in your belly and a desperate whine falls from your lips, rolling your hips once again as your leg wraps around her back to invite her closer into your inner thighs.

Ellie tears the thin and lacey strap of your tank top down your shoulder, kisses the sharp bone and retreats, hand on your jaw to invite you in another of her selfish kisses, "So fucking pretty, babe, and all mine, yeah?" her fingers push your shirt up over your chest, rolled up and stretched over your bralette, and then she tucks the thin cups over each sides of your breasts. Ellie pinches your left nipple, hard enough to get it perked up with said mere touch, and you mumble her name in a gasped moan "Looking like a perfect fucking doll in that skirt and those boots, walking 'round like I'm not gonna eat you whole. Is that what you want, hm?"

She twists the small bud between her thumb and index finger, and you wiggle in her grasp, "Ellie— yes," your hips meet hers again, but the friction isn't close to what you want. Huffing a complaint, you keep rubbing yourself against her in the search of relief "Touch me?"

Ellie laughs, mean and low by your ear, and licks a stripe from your neck to your jaw, "Already? But we just started."

Another twist of her thumb, and you sigh in frustration, "C'mon, Ellie."

She lands a bite on the corner of your jaw, "Fucking impatient, aren't you?"

"You started it."

She laughs again, more genuine than last time, enchanted by the neediness in your voice. You frown, hips against hips, and tug her hair slightly in encouragement to get her the fuck going. Ellie groans, and before you could muster your impatience again she's landing her mouth on yours, aggressively so. Her kiss makes you dizzy, hot against the transpired mirror glass behind you, flushed under the heavy contact of her spit coated lips. Ellie pushes you against her, helping you ride the zipper of her pants, and lets her right hand wander over the expanse of your thigh until it meets the hem of your skirt, rolling it up to your hipbones until your underwear is exposed. Her index finger drags a line from your clit down your entrance over the fabric, and a needy whine is swallowed by her greedy mouth. Pressing her thumb against your core, she gently rubs the cotton to get the wet patch resting there to grow furthermore.

And then, when you're about to break away from her mouth to insist a bit more, she pushes the fabric aside to expose your cunt into the humid summer air. You breathe in relief, but Ellie is too engrossed in the quiet squelch of your slicked lips when she lets her fingers roam through the wet valley between them, collecting your arousal on the pads of her index and middle finger before her thumb sinks inside you, and massages the muscles around your entrance.

"Fuck, you're so wet," she mumbles, biting your lip and licking over it to soothe the indent of her teeth "Always so wet for me, know how to drive me fuckin' crazy."

"Ellie—"

She removes her thumb and uses it to smear your slick around, focusing on drawing sticky circles around your clit to stop you from insisting once again. You moan, loud enough to echo in the dimly lit bathroom, and buckle your hips into her hands to feel her touch. Each flick of her thumb ignites you from the inside out, a bonfire crackling in your lower belly, growing and growing with each passing second in which she's touching you. You moan again, breathy and so fucking sultry Ellie's hand stutters over you, and she abandons your abused nipples to pull your right leg up, hand on the back of your thigh and pushing under your knee, splaying you open to properly slide two fingers inside of you.

Ripping a gasp out of your mouth, Ellie sinks her fingers into you with such brutality your thighs recoil, thumb pressed down on rhythmic circles over your clit. Your nails skim across her shoulders, built up from muscle and sunburnt skin, and tug on her graphic tank top until her chest is firmly pressed against you. She knows you, has for three years already, and she's had your body memorised from the very first moment you allowed her touch. In no time, and so effortlessly she just keeps amazing you, Ellie bends her fingers in the right angle to hit each spot that makes you mewl in her arms. Crying out, your back curves in a lame attempt to bring you closer even though it's physically impossible, and your girlfriend takes the opportunity to duck down and suck your softened nipples into her mouth.

"Fuck, Ellie, right there—" you whine, and a twist of her wrist enables her fingers deeper.

Her teeth scratch the sensitive skin between her lips at the same time her thumb brushes your clit especially hard, and your body twitches in the first sign of your approaching climax, jolting against her touch when the tight feeling of your orgasm restrains in your lower abdomen. She hollows her cheeks and sucks hard, and your whiney response is instant.

"Such pretty sounds f'me, babe," the squealch of your abused cunt brings the heat from your belly back to your cheeks, crying out at the brutal drag of her fingers going in and out, in and out "Who's makin' you feel this good, huh? Tell me."

A third finger breaking in, a loud cry echoing in the bathroom, "Y—oh, Ellie!"

She smirks, sly grin pressed against your skin, "Yeah, that's right. Say my name like that, pretty girl."

You comply, a string of Ellie, Ellie, Ellie's falling from your mouth, quicker and faintier the closer you get. Midway through her task at littering loving bites over your chest, a sudden groan makes your moans company: Ellie's natural reaction when you grow tight around her fingers.

She bites down on your skin, circles your clit messy and hard, "You close?" you nod, gasping into the warm air and only getting your own smell back "C'mon, baby, cum for me, make a pretty mess."

You sob, nails digging on the black cotton of her clothes as she pulls you closer and closer, and then keeps pulling you even closer to your climax. The burn stretching on your belly concentrates at such speed you can't even get a try at slowing it down to enjoy the feeling, and instead, it grows inside you until it snaps, washing over you in waves of pleasure that stretch down your trembling legs. Crying out her name, Ellie fingers you through your orgasm, watching closely the shape of your wet mouth opening up to set free a handful of moans she humbly helped you make. Biting her lower lip, she considers the chance of being mean for a while, thumb relentless over your overstimulated clit just to feel your legs shut closed around her, and to see your tummy flutter under her merciless touch.

"Ellie, too much—"

She mockingly pouts, but slowly comes to an end. When she slides her fingers out of you, close behind follows a string of your arousal, stretching from your entrance to the space between her digits with a complaining whine that betrays your own body, already missing her fingers filling you up but still rejecting her touch.

"Fuck, look at that."

Breathing in deep, you sit down until you're face to face and bring your mouth against hers, tongue licking into her own when her lips fall open under your kiss. She hums, clean hand splaying over your jaw and digging in your cheeks, then huffs out in a complaint when you break away. Except, when she's about to draw you in close to her mouth again, you glide down the sink until you're on your knees, pretty chin resting on her denim covered thigh. Ellie chuckles, delighted, and lifts her eyebrows in amusement —right one scarred, left one pierced— when you unbutton her short pants and pull down the zipper. You're about to tug her clothes down her legs when she backs away, and before you could begin to bother her on staying still as you usually do, she wraps a hand on your jaw again, encouraging your face upward where she forces your lips open and sinks her used fingers into your mouth. Whining with each drag of her digits, Ellie fucks her fingers clean in your warm and wet tongue, rubbing each pad until they reach your throat and you gag in response.

"Y'look so pretty with my fingers down your throat, y'knew that?" you hum, hollowing your cheeks around her and blinking up at her from your position at her feet. She grins, and removes her fingers from your mouth to slide her wet thumb over your bottom lip. Ellie carefully steps around you and rests her hips against the sink, crossing her arms over her chest, where her straining biceps glisten with her sweat "Go ahead, babe, do your best."

You chuckle, closing the distance between her legs and your kneeling body, panties still tucked to the side, skirt still riled up. You pull her pants down, hook your fingers on her underwear on the way, and lick your lips in anticipation when she slightly spreads her legs, enough to allow your head between her toned thighs. She sneaks an arm away from her chest and rests her hand in the back of your head, then mockingly nudges you forward, "Gonna keep me waiting?"

You glare at her, a hand closing around her narrow ankle just to hold on to something that feels like her, and lean forward with your tongue out. Her breath hitches at the first contact, spreading just a little bit further to give you more space to work on, and you greedily press your mouth into her cunt to taste her arousal. Strange kind of sweetness, a bit sour in the tastebuds, and fully drowning in her musky essence. She curses, smacks her tongue when you lap from her entrance to her clit and back again, and closes a tight fist on your hair to keep you from moving away. Each flick of your mouth on her is gentle, mocking, teasing, and Ellie is losing her patience.

"Stop being a fucking tease," she grumbles, and immediately moans when you laugh against her core.

You're just about to stop with the teasing, you swear, when Ellie shrugs her right leg off her shorts and drapes it over your left shoulder, knee closing behind your head and pulling your face flush against her cunt. You whine, desperate at the sudden motion, at the roughness, at the expression on Ellie's face when you look up from between her thighs and see her, glaring at you with a mocking grin, getting the upper hand like many times before this. She tightens the hold of her leg behind your head and you whimper, open mouth imprisoned into lapping up her slick until your own spit coats your chin, ripping out moans and curses out of your girlfriend with each flick and glide of your tongue. You can barely breathe, nose against the coarse and curly hairs of her pelvis, bumping into her clit with each excited movement of your jaw.

"Fuck, lookin' so good on your knees," she moans and rolls her hips forward, more of her arousal spreading over your lower face, then her free hand rushing behind her to rest on the edge of the sink and press herself further against your tongue "Look at you, can't even fuckin' breathe— fuck, you're so pretty, baby."

Mouth against her core and shameless, it's her compliment that brings the heat back to your face again. Hollowing your cheeks and sucking on her clit hard enough to make her gasp, Ellie's hips stutter against your face as a broken cry flutters from her bruised and swollen lips, the muscles of her abdomen flexing with each swift roll against your wet mouth. You huff, trying your best at keeping your eyes from rolling back when you start pulsating with need again, swallowing her slick and then, when her hand grows tight against your scalp, offering your mouth wide open for her to ride. Desperately pushing her hips back and forth, then back and forth over and over again against your tongue, Ellie groans and uses your face to get herself off.

You think she's going to finish on your tongue, but instead, she unhooks her leg from your shoulder and pushes you back with her knee, a thin thread of spit connecting your flattened tongue to her core. A whine flutters from your mouth and before you could verbally complain, Ellie hoists you up by the arms and forces you on your feet, knees hurting and still trembling from her fingers. She slams her lips shut over yours, coated in her own bittersweet arousal, and she laps into your mouth with another of her flustering kisses. It hurts to keep up with her, already bruised from all her affection and then your dedication to her pleasure, but you find yourself clinging further onto her body the more the heat in the bathroom grows. Pushing your legs open with a swift kick against your calf, she slides her thigh between your legs and presses your hips down. Instantly moaning at the contact and then whining at the sudden loss of it, Ellie peels herself from you, sweaty skin ripping from more sweaty skin, to tear your underwear down your legs until the cotton tangles on your boots.

She bites your jaw hard enough you consider the chance of her teeth accidentally drawing blood out, but the soothing of her warm tongue eases your concerns. Her hands grope their way down your body, settling on your ass cheeks and pinching the extra skin, where she kneads the fat between her fingers and helps you roll your hips down against her naked thigh. You hum, pressing your own leg against her core, and she jolts at the contact of your soft skin. With your head falling to her shoulder, you look up to watch your blurry figures on the fogged up mirror: the muscles of her back straining and working under her shirt, your fingers grasping every part of her you can reach, the hairs on her neck stuck to a thick layer of sweat, your face hot and flustered from the way she keeps moaning your name against your ear. Desperately rutting on your thigh, she squeezes her hold and then your hands dig on the scarred skin of her hips and lower back, embarrassed from how quick you're nearing your second orgasm.

She seems to catch onto your thoughts when your moans grow needier, a breathy sound she knows like the back of her hand, and she leans back to watch your face. You keep burying yourself on her neck despite her efforts to see your expression, and she mumbles her disapproval gruffly against your ear as her right hand falls heavy against your throat, and pushes you back enough to see the pinch of your eyebrows and the pout on your glossed lips. Ellie grins, still moaning at the pressure you keep building against her cunt, and squeezes on each pulse point.

The sound that scratches off you is something neither of you have heard before, a needy sob that breaks your mouth open and proves to be enough to push both of you over the edge. With your head lulling back, Ellie's hand snakes over your throat until it lands on your jaw, fingers pressing your cheeks right underneath your teeth until you grimace at the accidental bite; and as a low cry trembles from between your lips, Ellie leans forward, parts her lips, and spits down the back of your tongue. It takes you by surprise. Warm and thick coating the muscle in your mouth, suddenly coming undone when you swallow her down under her heavy gaze.

She groans, "Fuck, you're so—" she squirms, pushes her hips forward to hump your leg hard until you bounce over her thigh, crying out as your orgasm rushes through you "Fuckin' liked that, huh? Shit, that's dirty, babe."

Legs snapping shut around her leg, then twitching at her relentless pace. You whimper again, repeat her name in such a sorrowful whine Ellie pouts and rests a hand on your cheek, gliding her thumb over your bottom lip as lovingly as she could possibly be.

"I know, babe, I'm almost done," she promises, and you want to tell her you don't mind, you're not complaining. Her hips stutter and she looks down, smacking her tongue on the roof of her mouth "Fuck, look at that, makin' a fuckin' mess all over you. You're jus' gonna make me cum, huh?"

Her hand finds a way to bend your gaze downward, gripping your cheeks until your forehead rests on her shoulder and you're met with the sight of your thigh, coated in her slick and dripping with your own, as she uses your leg to get herself off. A gruff whine, hips stuttering at the overstimulation, and you still offer yourself to get Ellie where she needs to be despite being so sensitive. You huff out a quiet moan and the hairs framing her face barely move, stuck to the dampness of her skin as she nears her climax. And she's so pretty like this, pupils blown out and cheeks flushed under teardrops of her own sweat, thick brows pulled together under the glint of her silver piercing, groping your skin and moaning your name with each eager roll of her hips. You can barely bring yourself to make a sound, maybe focusing too much on her face to make a meaning out of the dirty words she keeps mumbling in this New Mexico's summer day, dedicated to you only.

Her nails dig in your skin, then her abdomen flutters, and she finishes over your leg with a loud cry in the shape of your name. You whimper and watch the expression on her face turn blissful, drowned by a tide of pure pleasure, head falling back and presenting the tendons of her neck for your teeth to mark. Huffing as she gradually slows down with a hitch of her breath, her forehead collides over your neck and she quietly hides there, breathing hard against your skin and whimpering when you slump forward, leaning on her chest. Bringing your hands up from her lower back, you drop them gently on her shoulders as the laziest of hugs yet, and she giggles against your skin, so sweet and girlish you feel yourself flutter with butterflies at the melody.

She leans back, scans your face and runs her hand from your glimmering temple to the crown of your head, brushing your hair away with a content smile polluting her abused lips. Her fingers slide down the side of your face and then her thumb brushes the highest point of your cheek, dissolving a drop of sweat with her fingertip, and reaching forward to land a gentle peck on your cupid's bow. You huff out the sweetest of quiet laughs, and watch her clean the sweat off her face with her wrist.

Looking down at the wet trail on the back of her hand, Ellie grimaces and pushes her tongue out of her mouth, "Yuck," you didn't think you'd be laughing this hard at such unexpected reaction, but you are, backing away from her touch just enough to give the illusion of space between her chest and yours "I feel gross. I am gross."

"How long till we get to Texas?"

She blinks, and the blush on her cheeks finds a way to grow darker, "Like, a while?"

You feel like losing hope, "How long?"

"Four hours?"

You groan, throwing your head back in an exaggerated gesture, but Ellie takes the chance to peck the side of your neck she just littered with the marks of her teeth. It feels like an apology, wether it's because of her bites or the fact that you won't shower until the evening you're not sure. Pulling yourself away from her might as well be a crime but it's still painfully necessary, and the sound echoing in the bathroom, the slick parting loud through each dark and condensed corner, makes the both of you cringe. She pats your hip gently over the denim, then leans down to pull your underwear up and your skirt down.

"I'll get a towel from the truck, hold on."

She pulls her clothes back on and cleans the sweat off her face with the bottom of her shirt, stretching over the toned muscles of her abdomen under your never ending hungry gaze. She catches you watching while rubbing the black cotton over her jaw, and chuckles to herself before leaning forward and kissing you sweet again.

She ruffles up her hair and looks at you, "Do I look alright?"

You bite your lip in consideration, "I mean, you look fucked."

"But how obvious is it?"

"Uh, pretty obvious?"

"No, like, I know how I look, but I don't have, like, your underwear hanging off my pocket or anything?"

The example makes you laugh, and you lean back against the sink "Well, your thigh is... pretty wet?"

She looks down, assesses the matter in her own head before she leans down and carelessly rubs your arousal away with the back of her hand. It looks... fine, you guess, and she walks out of the bathroom to race to her pick up without further questioning her appearance. Turning around and inspecting the rusty faucets, you struggle to twist one open and when you do, the water is nowhere close to cold. You wash your face, then your neck and pat your thigh clean again, and when you're done, Ellie bursts through the door, hand towel tucked under her arm.

Feeling the warm water as she stretches the fabric under the faucet, Ellie complains out loud, "Well, that's disgusting."

"At least it's clean."

"Yeah, I kinda expected it to be brown."

She rinses the towel each time she cleans a new place in your body, gently rubbing the towel on your skin to get rid of any possible long dried fluid. And she talks you through her task, complaining about the weather and the gas prices and how late your arrival will be after your short road trip vacation.

"Are you blaming me?" you ask, unbelievably so, watching her only inches away from your face as she carefully works the damp towel between your thighs, apologising when you hiss.

"Well, if you didn't look like that then I wouldn't have fucked you, dummy."

"You're so annoying."

"Better start making up an excuse to tell Joel when he asks."

"Does 'I tried to murder you' work?"

She nods, understanding, "He'll believe you."

You snicker, planting a kiss on her cheek when she finishes cleaning your skin away, and then thanking her with another peck right under her eye, where your favorite beauty mark of hers is. She blushes pink each time she's the main focus of your affection, which is to say she's mostly red around you, and scrambles to distract herself by rubbing the musk off her own body. When she's done, she rinses the towel one last time, squeezes the excess of water and stretches the wet fabric over her shoulder.

"Alright, bathroom and then we go?"

“Why?” the blonde whispered, her minty breath caressing your temple. Her heart was beating just as fast, you could feel it against your chest. Her arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer and closer with every kiss. You had to break it off.

“Because-“ you whispered erratically. Fuck. She sucked the skin on your neck, suctioning it in between her plump lips. Your cunt was pulsing, she would have mocked you if she knew. “Already?” she’d say, a soft smile creeping on her face.

“Abby-“ you whimpered, as she brought her large hand to cup your clothed cunt. Did she just read your mind? She parted two of her fingers on the delicate spot, just like she spread you wide before divulging in with her tongue. Puffy pussy lips spread open, her favorite.

There was no time for teasing, or for mocking. She needed to fuck you right now.

“Ca- I cant- I cant” you whispered. You almost screeched when she softly patted your clothed cunt. You were ready for a slap.

“Yeah you can…” She grabbed your hair and pulled. “My best girl” she whispered, a glint of cockiness in her eyes. She knew what she was doing. Her praises always paralyzed you completely, completely fucking your brain’s capacity of understanding the outer world out of you. Her needy, nasty girl.

But you really couldn’t. Not right now.

It almost hurt when you had to peel her off of you, to slap her hand away from where you needed her the most.

She pouted. Abby pouted.

“I’m sorry… I- Ellie wanted to talk, she practically begged me to. I told her id come to her room at 10, It’s 10:05” you apologized, eyebrows furrowing in anguish.

“No- No-“ Abby kissed your cheek, trying to catch her breath.

“Don’t apologize, It’s okay, I promise.” She gave you a look, a look that said, I trust you. And you’re mine. And I know how bad you need me. Chivalry was alive and thriving. Ellie should take a masterclass, taught by Abby Anderson herself.

“I’ll be right here, yeah?” She whispered softly, planting a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. It drove you truly crazy sometimes, how a rough kiss was followed by a delicate one, a slap by a caress. Her good girl, and then her slut, her princess, and then her bitch.

“Mhm” you nodded, doe eyed. She hypnotized you. Dragging your feet, forcing them to walk away from her seemed like the worst thing you could ever imagine doing.

But you weren’t an asshole. You weren’t Ellie.

The cabin stood tall and sturdy, nestled amidst a winter wonderland, with its wooden exterior contrasting against the pristine white surroundings. You were dragging your feet, and god, the stickiness in your panties didn’t help.

You hesitated before reaching for the doorknob. With a creak, the door swung open.

“Hey” the auburn haired girl said dryly, as if she didn’t fidget with her fingernails while drawing aggressively just five minutes ago. She was trying to contain herself. Be normal. Just talk to her.

She was wearing a white tank top. It was snowing outside.

“Youre not… cold?” you asked, without even greeting her. You, the thoughtful person that you are.

“M’fine, I turned on the heater” She sniffed. She wasn’t fine, and the heater was definitely off. Her nose was red, eyes puffy, and god, that room smelled like Ellie. Your Ellie.

Was your Ellie.

Before entering her room, you decided you weren’t going to let her win this. See, Ellie had a habit of… dancing around important subjects. She was a master of distraction, knew exactly what to tell you, where to touch you, how to get you to crumble beneath her. She wasn’t evil, she never did it on purpose. The weight of her inner demons pressing upon her were a suffocating presence. They suffocated her, at first. Then, they creeped up on you too. She would yell, and demand you to stay quiet, to shut up. She would argue, and then ignore you, and then argue some more. She would scream at you to leave, and then beg you to let her in. You couldn’t do it anymore.

Thats why you left.

You didn’t know whether to sit or not, so you balanced your weight between your feet. You scratched your chin with your shoulder. Abby. Her scent lingered upon your skin. The cologne, like a silent caress, delicate pine, left an indelible mark upon your being. Your face flushed. Maybe Ellie’s room really was hot. Maybe she was right to wear that top.

You fixed your hair. Focus.

“What did you wanna talk to me about?” You questioned. Ellie was stood in front of you, avoiding your gaze. If she looked - she didnt know what she’d do.

“I don’t know” She said dryly, voice raspier than usual. It smelled like weed. She must have smoked before you entered.

“You don’t know?” you questioned. You tried to avoid rolling your eyes. It was so typical, so Ellie. Of course she didn’t know, she never fucking does.

“I- Can you sit down? Why are you acting like you don’t know me?” Ellie's voice sliced through the air with a tinge of annoyance, her words dripping with frustration. Every syllable carried a distinct edge, as if each letter resented being uttered.

She signaled you to sit on the bed.

You obliged.

She sat next to you, keeping the distance. Funny, how just a month ago, she would have begged you to sit on her lap. She would have pampered you with kisses. That was then, and this is now.

2 strangers.

You felt a lump forming down your throat. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Ellie stared at the floor. She glanced over to you, and then shifted on the bed. The forrest green duvet emitted a soft rustle, like a gentle sigh escaping its fabric embrace.

She took a deep breath.

Thats what those Youtube videos taught her. “Meditation for beginners” was probably the worst one. “How to deal with anger issues”, yeah, she binge watched 7 of those videos.

“I wanted to ask you…”

You glanced at her. She was biting the inside of her lips, blood was forming. The taste of metal washed over her tongue.

“Fuck-“ She whispered.

“I need you to explain. I need to know why you left.”

your gaze froze, breath catching in your throat. Ellie's question pierced through your defenses, demanding an answer.

“I’m not doing this right now” you said, ready to get up and leave. It’s not like you didn’t expect it, but for some reason, you just couldn’t.

Ellie looked at you with disbelief. As you got up, halfway there, Ellie grabbed your hand forcefully. Before you knew it, you were sat back down on the bed. Your breath hitched. You should have walked away.

“I said I’m not doing this with you.” You made eye contact with her for the first time. Her eyebrows were scrunched, jaw clenched. Your Ellie.

“Are you not even going to apologize? I mean, fuck-“ Ellie's eyes narrowed, frustration burning within her. Her gaze intensified, her pupils dilated.

Apologize?

“Fuck- Apologize?” you laughed in disbelief.

“Holy fucking shit- Wow” you glared at her.

“You are un-fucking believable”

ʚɞ that was her excuse for everything. wanted to hold your hand after splitting you raw? it’s just to warm her up. move closer while her arm is loosely placed on your chest while “hugging” you from behind while laying on the bed? come warm her up. she’d never admit she just yearned to feel you close, craved to touch you at any given moment, as if you’d slip away if she didn’t.

ʚɞ she was wearing her headset, and a couple of baby hairs frizzled up on the top of her head. both hands on the controller, wrapped tightly around your waist, continuously yelling at someone you guessed was a complete stranger she was playing with. “who are you talking to?” you questioned, trying to stop yourself from grinning at how cute she looked with her tongue poking out of her mouth when she was hyperfocused on the screen. “shh…” she sushed, slightly blowing out her eyes. “your brother”

“he can hear me?!” fuck. that came out way too loud. she abruptly placed her left palm on your lips, to shut you up. “just a sec, man” she spoke into the mic. “you cant make any noise” she whispered, and when you winced, she smirked. “just watch, and keep quiet”

ʚɞ being quiet, was not exactly your forte. especially not when you were supposed to (it was as if someone placed a red button with a huge sign of “do not press!”— you have to press.) and especially, while you were sat on ellie’s lap, and she kept sniffling and huffing and cursing those little “fuck” and “shit” under her breath and the air she blew, caressed your neck and made you shiver and… her hand, on that damn controller, her fingers circling the silicone ball, her thumb, to be more specific, and it’s a little fucking distracting— how she happens to bounce her leg, making you bounce up and down with it’s movement, every time she's upset someone had killed her in the game, and how when she wins a round, she lays herself back on the chair, spreads her legs and cockily murmurs into the mic “fucking got you, asshole”

ʚɞ did she know what she was doing, as she slapped your thigh when she won the 3rd round in a row? did she know that when she bounced you up and down, your tummy flipped and your eyes rolled back? even if she did know, what you did next was so not fair to her.

ʚɞ you pressed your ass deep inside her lap, making the fat squish down on her thigh, and she cleared her throat, and chuckled. clearly, it did something to her, her throat feeling suddenly dry, but she didn’t want you to know. you stopped, and she readjusted herself, straightening her back. “i’m out of fuc…ing ammo” and with that, you pressed your ass down even deeper into ellie’s lap, cause her face to twitch in the slightest. “give me some fuc—“ now, you purely rocked your ass back and forth on her crotch, staring at the screen, attempting to appear as aloof as you could. it made her stretch her head back, and huff out a small, shaky breath. she placed her hand on your thigh, and squeezed hard. it wasn’t a nice, thoughtful gesture, it was a sign to stop fucking moving, you’ve been warned. she was on a winning streak and you were about to ruin it.

ʚɞ your shorts were truly way too short, bordering on underwear, the material was truly too thin, and she could feel every inch of you through her sweats. your thighs, your feet rocking back and forth and kicking her on purpose, and your ass who grew to be the biggest distraction of all— “just a sec dude, im pausing just… taking a water break”

she was going to lose, and she knew it.

she took the headset off, and placed it, no— threw it on the table. “what are you doing?” she murmured in a low, raspy voice. you managed to catch your breath, and attempted to sound as angelic and innocent as you possibly could. “nothing…?” you quipped, and smiled softly. ellie slightly nodded her head up and down. “keep doing nothing, see where that gets you”

“not doing anything, swear” and the way you put your hand on your chest, right where your heart is, and then palmed it to give it the smallest, gentlest squeeze… “jesus fucking christ” she huffed, and stared down. she wasn’t going to get out of this, and she certainly wasn't going to win.

ʚɞ she spread her thighs wider, with you sat directly on her thigh, and put her headset back on. two can play this game. she didn’t want your brother to know about you two, and you didn’t want him to know even more. you moved yourself to sit right on her center, right where her crotch is, and the wheeze that came out of her mouth— “fffuck”

“you good, ellie?” that was your brother’s voice popping out of her headset. you were that close to her face. your cheek pressed up on her’s, and you moaned inside her ear, a small “aaah, ellie” and you knew that would get her, because nothing made her wetter than those damn moans, and when you added her name in the mix—she cleared her throat, and if you saw the way her eyebrows scrunched together, her eyelids simply resting shut because she had to physically restrain herself, you’d have probably started whining and begging. “m’good, yeah—keep going” was she talking to you, or to him? you made up your mind. she was talking to you.

ʚɞ you grinded youself back and forth again and again, and you knew you rubbed her right where she needed you. you pressed down hard, and it hit right on her clit. “god” she huffed, her breaths growing shaky and uneven. she bumped her crotch into your ass and it made you squeal like a chew toy. “sh— shut up” she groaned, and hastily placed her palm on your mouth again. “shut the fuck up bro”. it was truly disgusting, how turned on you were by grinding yourself up against her, letting her clothed crotch hump your ass. ellie, desperately dug her palm extra hard on the controller, as she felt a glob of slick leaking out of her cunt, because she knew that if she let it go, her hand would immediately drop down to your pussy, and start fucking you raw on the chair.

ʚɞ the wet, sticky patch in your underwear grew bigger and bigger every time you bounced, circling your ass in fast, needy movements on her crotch as if you were trying to win a race. ellie's mind left the game already, completely blind to what was happening on the screen, but kept on pretending. it was funny to her, truly, how pathetic you looked. your movements growing messy, sweat sticking down your forehead, your bottom lip between your teeth, and she almost let you use her body to cum, and you swore you almost did. your small chocked out breaths were growing heavier and needier, and you huffed small whispers of her name in broken little sentences. “mmhm el-lie” she smirked, and placed her hand up on the small mic to block the obscenity that was about to escape her lips; "about to cum in those little fucking panties? hm? you’re so fucking slutty”

ʚɞ and thats exactly when you stopped, and peeled your shaky body off of her. she seemed confused for a second, because god she was loving it, the way you tried to get her flustered and turned out a needy, flustered, moaning mess yourself. she didn’t even need to do anything, just purely exist, for you to nearly cum inside your shorts. her lips curled into to a small, teasing smile. “what are you doing?” she mouthed. you got down on your knees, placing yourself directly in front of her crotch. ellie hovered over you in a manspread, and you put your chin right on the chair. “nothing” you mouthed back, and gave her a small pout. she huffed, as her game character stood idly on the ground, a black rifle in her hand, and your brother paced nearer and nearer. you placed your hands on her thighs, and batted your eyelashes. she sighed, and gazed at you with a prying look.

“you’re gonna fucking kill me”

“hell fucking yes i am” your brother exclaimed, muffled in her headset.

ʚɞ you didn’t even peel the grey sweats out of her body, you straight up yanked them down. what you saw… didn’t disappoint you in the slightest. a wet spot, perhaps even bigger than yours, making her black boxers take even a darker shade of black. you let out a shaky “oh my… god”, as she slid off of the chair, her eyes rolling back. “m’playing… just keep fucking going i’m playing” again, she wasn’t talking to you, or was she? she looked at you again, warning you. you blinked slowly, trying to tease her as much as you could. ellie's eyes squinted, and she hesitated for a moment. she brought her hand down and caressed the top of your head. although she was gentle, you could tell how crazy you were driving her. she bucked her hips forward, and mouthed; “lick”

ʚɞ firstly, you gave a small lick to the soft fabric, and felt her tangy sweet taste just merely grazing your pink muscle. then, she aggressively patted her hand on the top of your head, again, and made you look up at her. her eyes turned a darker shade of emerald green, and she looked angry. “dont play with me” she mouthed, and squeezed your cheeks together. she gave the right one a small pat, and then a stinging little slap, making you yelp. she was in control, and she was going to use you.

ʚɞ she placed the controller on your fucking head, and pushed her soaking boxers down, to lay loosely wrapped aound her ankles. ellie pushed your face forward to meet her weeping core, and you immediately stuck your tongue out, to gift a delicate, slow lick to her glistening, peachy pink folds. you pushed it inside of her hole, and she clenched right on it. she gripped the controller harder, and looked absolutely gone. no matter how hard she pushed your head, you didn’t dare to ever meet her clit, the brat that you are, because you thought it was so much more fun to watch her suffer. “mmfuck” she groaned, “fuck— y-you man” and the way she whimpered right into the mic; “m’good dude just— fuck just my arm hurts” and looked downwards to give you a look that was purely warning you— keep on playing with her like that and she’d fucking make it hurt.

ʚɞ it was torturous, and she really got truly delirious, the way in which you licked around her cunt, stopping your movements to plant a simple, delicate little kiss on her thigh, just to hear her respond with a throaty groan, look down at you with her bangs sticking to her forehead, hand shaking around the black controller, biting her lip hard— because if she didn't, she would have moaned so loud she'd get kicked out of your family's home for fucking with your brother's precious sister. she shook her thigh to get you off of it, and it signaled to stop fucking teasing. "I can'— fuck— man fuck, im gonna fucking— lose the fucking game" she stutters, sounding like a complete idiot, biting her fist hard and twisting her face, her jaw clenched so tight because if he hears her, he's gonna think she's either about to pass completely out, or think she's in heat— and the fact that you won't, absolutely refuse to give her needy clit any attention, and the way you look so concentrated on torturing her, keeping your eyes fixated on her’s, acting all brave because you know she cant talk, and cant do anything because she’s fucking “busy” oh, you pissed her off— your mouth stuffed with her cunt, looking up to her as if you're not trying to kill her;

nope. she can't do this anymore. she grabbed the back of your neck forcefully, and pulled yourself off of her. you pout, and then you're slightly terrified, because the controller just met the floor with a loud thud. "i'll be back in 5 minutes" she breathlessly talks into the mic.

“swear— five fucking minutes, gimme five”

ʚɞ you both stare at each other for a moment, as if you're communicating with just looks, and she lifts herself off of the chair and you pounce back, but she's quicker than you.

you dont know how you find yourself pushed against the mattress, with her hand around your throat. she's not pressing, it's just wrapped around it, and she's angry.

"you fucking..." you look to the side, trying to avoid her piercing gaze. the wall, apparently, has a lot to say. "look at me" she whispers, and forces you to turn your head around and face her. freckles splattered all over her face, you try and concentrate on them but she's chasing your eyes.

ʚɞ she's too quick, it's all too fucking quick and you whine so loud, your back arching off of the bed and she presses you down, shoves her hand inside of your panties and chuckles; "you're a fucking... you're so fucking..." she’s breathless, and famished, because she doesn't even finish that sentence before her lips are on yours, hips jerking forward, as soon as she feels the puddle, or the sea, that's right inside your panties.

"fucking tease"

ʚɞ you swear you’re vibrating on her hand. “pl—ease” you plead, your voice whiney and quiet because all of a sudden, ellie has the upper arm, and you, poor you— can’t tease her anymore. “please what?” she coos. “please ellie…” and she cups your tits, both of them, and squeezes them together so tight it makes you leak down your thigh.

“s’not good enough” she tsk’s, bringing her forehead to meet yours. she merely hovers over your clit, and it’s that friction you were looking for so hard and—

her phone buzzes.

“where the fuck are you?”

“?”

“????”

“hello?”

she places the phone screen in front of you, pinches your chin with her index finger and her thumb, makes sure you actually look, and types;

“i’m fucking your sister, brb”

your breath hitches, and she chuckles, deeply and mockingly, like shes making fun of you.

“should i press send?” she teases.

“no…” you stutter, and yet again, attempt to wear the purest, most angelic and divine expression on your face. “oh… no?” she mocks, plunging a finger inside of you deep, cooing at how you gasp silently, imitating your gasp right back to you.

“nonono” you blabber incoherently, and she’s not even moving her finger, just letting you warm it inside.

“s’too bad…”

and with that, she presses “send.”

a moment passes.

“not funny dude”

oh, he didn’t buy it.