ellie sat on your vanity table, pencil in hand, calculator in the other. she shifts uncomfortably on the tiny stool she's on, as her leg bounces up and down.
"you sure i couldn't do this on the dining table? i mean, you don't even have a desk. for studying, was what i meant.." ellie murmurs, voice going smaller as she goes. she stays silent, her eyes roaming around the expensive makeup and perfumes that line the corners of your vanity.
you sit on top of your mattress, feel kicking the air as you tossed over an old fashion magazine. "nope. mom's having guests over..and besides. you make for really good eye candy."
ellie's cheeks flush, but she doesn't turn around. she forces her brain to power through the last couple problems, which isn't really a problem for her. its you that's kind of making this whole thing distracting.
she knows you're on top of that bed, barely anything covering you except that sheer linen slip on you wear to bed. most nights...well, only really tonight because you have her over. "..are you done?" you chime in, voice sweet as cherries and ellie can't help but shut her eyes, her self control wavering.
"mmhm. i just have to...finish these ones up. then i can move on to your history paper. if that's fine with you?.." her voice is unsure. always tedious around you. mostly because she doesn't want to say the wrong things around you.
you toss your feet over one another, standing up on your fluffy carpet. ellie can hear you shuffling around her and for once this entire night, she takes a tiny peek over her shoulder. she feels entranced. almost mesmerized just looking at you in such an intimate way. the dim candles making everything feel so close to one another.
your hands slide over the pads of her shoulders, and you dip. dip just enough that she can feel your breathing on the side of her head. she doesn't take her eyes off you. she looks at you with such easiness and vulnerability that makes her look like a dog.
you ruffle her hair, and she unconsciously nuzzles into your hold, your hands feeling like utter warmth that can spread across her. "...did i do...good?" she whispers. she won't hide it. won't hide the fact that she loves when you praise her for things. it's the only reason she agrees to do your homework. just for those few 'you did so good baby. you're so smart.'
"you're doing so, so good. you're just so good at these types of things." you coo.
"for you."
"hmm?"
"i'm good. for you." she says softly, lips parted in an almost pathetic way, eyes glued onto yours as she shifts to the side, facing you. "i''m good for you." she repeats.
you kiss her temple, your hand coming up to the back of her neck, making ellie shiver. her body unconsciously nudges into yours, seeking the comfort only you could give her. the tips of her fingers slip past the little fabric that covers you.
"tch. baby, you know what i said. finish it first" you repeat.
"i know. but i'll be able to finish it much quicker if you give me something to look forward to."
you can't fight off the smile on your lips as her fingers draw closer to the lining of your underwear. she leans on your stomach, her chin propped up as she waits for your answer, her eyes pleading as she gives you tiny, reassuring, yet desperate nods.
"..fine. but just five minutes." you say. her fingers waste no time in tugging your panties down, pen and calculator forgotten as she wraps her other arm around your waist, pulling you over to your bed.
"just five minutes okay? a tiny..tiny break." you repeat.
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✎You have a part time job as a librarian at the college that both you and Ellie attend. Ellie is studying rather late into the night, and you are the “lucky” one who begrudgingly shares the news of the library’s closing until tomorrow morning. As you continue to cross paths on campus, you both realize you might be something more than just peers.
✎modern college au, nerdy!ellie, awkward!reader, slow burn, eventual smut/fluff
previous chapter | next chapter
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Although many students decided to live in an on-campus dorm, you had the amazing idea of saving money and the time it would take moving in. Your childhood bedroom held memories that you couldn’t seem to let go of yet, so staying here for a while longer didn’t seem like such a burden. The wind whistled through your slightly open window and the sound of an owl hooting in the distance created the perfect atmosphere to do some light stalking.
You had been through this routine many times before, typically starting with a harmless search and ending with the knowledge of where your unsuspecting victim’s great grandparents attended school. Though you were used to this procedure, you were not always guaranteed a direct entrance into everyone’s life. Many people were careful with their private information, but even your friends would boast to others about how you definitely could work for the FBI due to your incredible detective skills.
You were currently knee deep in Ellie’s feed. She got 40 likes at most on each of her posts and was the kind of girl who only ever posted at most three photos at a time, which included mixes of landscapes, silly candids, and shots of her looking away from the camera.
You were specifically observing the people who surrounded Ellie in a bonfire photo posted three years ago. Some guy with black hair draped his arm around her shoulder displaying the biggest smile you had ever seen. You narrowed your eyes and chewed on your cheek, sliding your thumb down with enough force that brought you to this year’s posts. Three months ago, she was hiking with a girl named Dina who was tagged as the trashcan next to them. In this photo specifically, Ellie smiled with her teeth, which was a rare sight compared to the rest of her posts. The sun filtered through the canopy of pine trees and spilled on the top of her head, highlighting the ginger strands of hair. After a moment of staring, you caught yourself smiling for a bit too long and pouted your lips instead, looking around your room in shame for feeling anything towards just a photo. Trying to ignore that fact, you went to scroll back up in order to view her highlights, but instead of clicking a specific highlight with the camera emoji, you clicked the follow button.
Adrenaline shot through your chest, making your sternum feel as if fireworks were being lit inside. You threw your phone across the room out of shock and covered your mouth in unison, kicking your feet on the mattress. It hit the floor with a muffled thud before hitting the base of your wall. You sat in silence for a moment listening to your heart thumping in your chest, realizing the time you spent panicking could’ve been used to press the block button instead and hope she never saw it or eventually forgot about it.
You scrambled up to grab your phone and act out your plan, your socks sliding on a piece of clothing that caused you to stumble forward. You barely caught yourself on the edge of your bed, reaching for the device which laid face down. The screen illuminated your face as you desperately unlocked it. You went to your following, frantic to find her account and block her as soon as possible before she was able to see your follow, but you froze instead when a notification popped up at the top of your screen.
ellie_w440 requested to follow you.
You sat there for a moment, processing the words and feelings that were currently conjuring in your chest and stomach. Your face scrunched up and you took a deep breath in before settling on two options: block her, pretend this never happened, and go on with your life like usual, or let her into your personal world, giving her free reign to judge every aspect of you. Every photo, every future story, every friend and family member you followed. The thought of a pretty girl with the seemingly coolest energy scrolling through your life while you sat here in your mismatched socks made you quite literally shiver from both fear and thrill.
Your thumb hovered over the screen, time running out before it became rather weird. She definitely knew you were online, and you definitely knew she was as well. It was almost intimate how quickly she followed you back. What if she was in the same situation as you–would you even want that?
You bit the skin off of your lip and stared at the screen a moment longer before impulsively hitting ‘Accept.’ You tossed your phone on your pillow and buried your face in your arms and comforter. You had just let the most interesting thing on campus so far into your personal life, and you felt sort of relieved that there was no going back.
You grabbed your phone again, unable to stay out of loop for too long, and skimmed through her account one more time before moving on to one of her friends. Her hair and skin had the perfect contrast, and her features were definitely something to be jealous of. Those doe eyes and that sweet smile had you contemplating if you should actually try and go for something with Ellie. Minutes of stalking through her account felt like hours until you were snapped out of your trance when your phone buzzed lightly against your hand, a message notification popping up at the top of your screen.
“i thought that was you,” the text read, followed by another notification, alerting you that she had just liked your most recent post from three days ago. You quickly closed the app and opened your notes instead, already trying to jot down what you could possibly reply with. You barely had time to think about what corny message you could go with before another notification popped up.
“i’ve been trying to figure out what you were reading in the theology section for like three days. pls tell me ur also failing”
You opened your notification center to get a better view of the full message without actually having to open it, giving you way more time to think about what to say now. Her words were so normal and, in a way, comforting. You’d worked yourself up–created this intimidating mystery of a girl for no reason. Although this new atmosphere was reassuring, you didn’t type a response yet. Instead, you set your phone face down on your bed and settled into the sound of cicadas and wind.
The ceiling was suddenly more interesting than the events that had just occurred, not because you were uninterested or trying to play hard to get. You just didn’t feel the need to rush anything–if it was even going to be anything at all. The conversation could wait until tomorrow. For now, it was enough to know that you weren’t the only one intrigued with the other.
❤︎gf!abby, who sleeps in your old tank tops. they smell like you, which brings her immense comfort, especially if you’re out one night. plus, the material enhances the look of her abs. she’s caught you staring more than once, the ego boost it gives her being almost comical. sweet girl lovvvves knowing she’s making you flustered.
❤︎gf!abby, who does your hair when it’s not cooperating. yes, she always only puts its in a braid similar to hers, but the gesture is still sweet. she does it to let you know she’s always there, and that you can always rely on her for help.
❤︎gf!abby, who will definitely big spoon you if you ask, but adores being the little spoon. she loves having your hands on her, being able to tuck her nose in the crook of your neck, and just completely melting into you. she’s a sucker for being babied, even if she won’t admit it.
❤︎gf!abby, who always lets you choose the movie, even if the description doesn’t sound that interesting to her. as long as you’re into it, she’s okay. not only that, she never gets angry when you eat the majority of the popcorn. she’d rather you be full and content that hungry.
❤︎gf!abby, who never takes half assed pictures of you. in fact, if you’re walking past a scenic view she stops you to take a picture, not the other way around. and she’s verrryyy serious about it. she’ll tell you how to pose, where to position your purse, where your head should be directed at—she tells you every thing! even if it’s small.
❤︎gf!abby, if you have the soap gene, she goes out of her way to make sure none of your meals have cilantro. and by the rare occasion that they do, she speaks a time picking it all out for you.
❤︎gf!abby, who treats your stuffed animals with the utmost respect. she links of them like they’re you children, sometimes even slotting one between you while cuddling.
❤︎gf!abby, who is an absolute sucker for forehead kisses. they make her feel so loved, so adored, and sometimes even feel more intimate than regular kisses.
❤︎gf!abby, who always lets you steal bites out of her food, and actually encourages it. she’ll smirk when you take big bites, and offers another one when you don’t.
❤︎gf!abby, who pays for any and all of your hair/nail appointments. she genuinely gets offended when you tell her she doesn’t have to, because to her, it’s the bare minimum.
❤︎gf!abby, who refuses to go to bed without an “i love you.” if you fall asleep before her, of course, she won’t wake you. instead, she’ll quietly whisper it against your skin, pressing her lips gently against your cheek.
❤︎gf!abby, who follows you around like a lost puppy. washing dishes? she’s leaning against the counter next to you. doing your hair? she’s pulled over a chair so she can sit by you. changing? she literally hands you the next article of clothing you need. (and she swears she’s not clingy mind u…)
❤︎gf!abby, who has absolutely no problem shaving your legs if you’re lazy. in fact, she thinks it’s kinda fun. plus, gives her an excuse to touch you, and yap your ear off.
❤︎gf!abby, who claims that she doesn’t like your gym playlist, but you’ll catch her bobbing her head, and sometimes even humming along to the majority of the songs. her face gets bright red when you call her out.
❤︎gf!abby, who absolutely hates it when you use a silly photo of her as a sticker while texting. “can u STOP??????” every time you send that 0.5 of her you took while she was dead asleep, mouth hanging wide open.
❤︎gf!abby, who carries your purse like its some very important secret document, not allowing anyone to get close to it.
❤︎gf!abby, who slips into the shower with you more often that not. you’ll be scrubbing down your arms, when theres suddenly two more wrapping around your middle from behind, and lips pressing against your cheek.
❤︎gf!abby, who has polaroids of you taped up on your bed frame. she claims they’re “peak decoration.”
❤︎gf!abby, who deadass has a blanket with your face printed on it. she doesn’t let anyone touch it.. not even you, keeping it neatly laid on her side of the bed.
❤︎gf!abby, who has like 80 billion photos of you…it literally takes up all of her phone storage, and REFUSES to delete them. but on the very, very rare occasion that you two argue, all she does is scroll through them like you died. it’s cute, but her phone legitimately has like 4 gigabytes left.
❤︎gf!abby, who loves you with everything her full heart has to offer.
Hhaiii my request r open :ppp please do not be afraid to send something in! its highly appreciated :))) i currently write for vi, sevika, ellie williams, and abby anderson :33
do hcs of what ellie's like drunk and what she's like high and then crossed faded 😋 (gfs) can be smut too
──── ◞ ୨ৎ drunk, high, & cross faded els head cannons! smut, strap usage, mentions of weed & alcohol obvs, drunk!sub! els, dom!high! els, needy! els, etc etc. honestly just a whole bunch of cutie patootie and pussy aching lesbian stuff.
♥︎ drunk els who . . . gets really really out of herself when she’s drunk. like to the point where she’s clinging all over you because she can’t stand on her own, and all she wants to do is talk your ear off about the latest space expedition. it amazes you that she even remembers anything from work when she’s drunk. she’ll be all whiney, laying her head on your lap like: “pleaseeeee baby, i—“ she’ll hiccup, “wanna tell you ‘bout workkk!”
of course you’ll oblige and listen to her endless rambles about how she wishes she was the one going up into space while playing with her hair. nodding your head along to her words, her drunken gaze will meet yours every now and then, and a hiccup will fall from your lips.
♥︎ drunk els who . . . wants her pussy eaten when she’s drank too much. she’s always so much more submissive when she’s drinking versus when she’s smoking. they always say drunk words are sober thoughts, and with the way ellie likes to writhe beneath you makes you wonder if she wants this more often than not.
“fuck—“ she whines, buckling her hips against your hand as you rub her cunt gently. “want.. want your fucking tongue.” she’ll say, lolling her head to the side as she closes her eyes under hooded lids. her desperation makes it hard to say no to her, not like you ever could anyway. so, you give her what she needs and lets her cum on your tongue. her pussy always tastes so sweet.
you wished she would let you eat her out more often. “yes, yes,” she whimpers, fingers digging into your hair as she grinds her pussy into your mouth. “just like that baby, oh fuck!”
♥︎ drunk els who . . . absolutely hates being away from her girlfriend when intoxicated with alcohol. she’ll be at a party with friends while you’re out with your own, calling you and whining into the microphone about how much she misses you and just wants to cuddle into your arms. she’s so adorable when she can hardly speak coherent sentences; it makes you want to drop everything and just go home to wrap yourself in her embrace.
“els, baby!” you’ll call when you finally step into your shared apartment. to which she stumbles out of the bedroom quickly upon hear your voice. her arms will wrap around you quickly, tugging you into her unsteady grip. her lips immediately attack your neck in chaste kisses, nipping at the skin to leave little love bites.
you giggle, walking her backwards into the room, “wanna cuddle my girl.” she whines.
♥︎ drunk els who . . . giggles so much that she spits out her drinks. she had a major giggling problem when she’s drunk, and cannot stop laughing whenever you make a joke that isn’t even remotely funny. it’s almost like you’ve become her personal comedian. to keep her laughing, and to keep hearing her cute giggle, you’ll continue to make lame jokes—remembering some from her pun book that she had forgotten about.
because apparently ellie doesn’t always remember her own jokes, and will even laugh at ones you retell her later on.
♥︎ drunk els who . . . gets really really flushed in the face. i mean like cheeks so red that she looks like she either got sun burnt or became a bright red tomato. either way, you find it adorable and can’t help but poke fun at her even when she grumbles and saunters away from you out of embarrassment. she never manages to get far though—she always finds her way back to you; tugging you into her arms and burying her warm face into your neck.
♥︎ high els who . . . gets extremely possessive. she hardly ever smokes alone, and usually invites friends over when she wants to get high. of course you’re always there because you live together, and when she lets the weed wash over her, she gets suddenly very handsy. she’ll pull you onto her lap and play with your clothes as she passes the joint between her and her friends. when they make jokes or ogle you for too long, she’ll murmur into your neck and kiss your skin.
almost like a sign of dominance. like saying: “you’re mine and only mine, don’t forget that.” you don’t, ever. why would you? you loved when ellie got jealous like this. it was probably one of your favorite versions of her. it always made your stomach flip and curl with anticipation for how she’ll touch you later on.
♥︎ high els who . . . takes what she wants when she wants it. weed isn’t her only form of release, but it helps her wind down after a shitty day at work. not to mention, it’s great foreplay to get in the mood and chilled out. of course when she’s like this, you immediately expect to be made a mess out of. she was always very.. dominant in bed when high.
she’d tie your wrists together and bound your ankles so that you couldn’t move, and then completely fuck you senseless. “e-els!” you’d moan, body jolting with each pound she made into your cunt with the thick strap of silicon. she didn’t even care how much you whined or whimpered from the pressure, she would keep fucking uou until she was satisfied.
blunt dangling from her lips, she’d chuckle. “yeah, take it baby. you can take it—“ she’d grunt. “what a good fuckin’ girl.”
♥︎ high els who . . . doesn’t get munchies for food, she gets it for your pussy. just like fucking you with her strap, she craves your cum whenever she’s high. like extremely bad. to the point where she’s already aching about how good she’ll feel when you finally come undone for her. it’ll be simple at first. just teasing as she smokes—rubs her hand against your clothed cunt as you laid on your stomach.
massaging your ass before rubbing her thumb down the middle of your cunt and massaging that too—until your back was arching and hips were lifting off the bed. “don’t tease me,” you would whine, frowning and pouting your bottom lip. “you’ve already teased me enough..”
she would chuckle and simply smack your ass before spreading your cheeks and immediately diving in for her dessert.
♥︎ high els who . . . likes to caress you while holding you in her arms. being high and hazy makes her a bit drowsy, and sometimes, she just likes to lay there with you beside her. her fingers will skate around your skin—your arms, your side, your stomach, your thighs, your chest, absolutely everywhere. she loves to touch you, and loves to make sure you tingle and shiver whenever she does so.
“feel good?” she’ll whisper into your ear, dragging her fingers up your spine. “you’re so soft, baby,” her lips will brush against your skin before she nips at the lobe. “i wanna kiss you everywhere.”
and she does, of course.
♥︎ cross faded els who . . . greens out really easily. you end up having to hold her hair back when she vomits, soothing her by rubbing her back and whispering soft things in her ear. she isn’t exactly in the mood for sex either, so the two of you typically just cuddle. you aren’t the biggest fan of when she drinks and smokes since she’s like completely out of it and incoherent.
it’s hard for her to hold conversations and you end up just laying with her while she watches the ceiling fan spin and tries not to throw up again. it isn’t your.. favorite part of her, but nonetheless, you love her enough to put up with it.
♥︎ cross faded els who . . . gets really bad anxiety when she combines the two substances. though she doesn’t listen to your constant warnings, she indulges in the alcohol and weed with her friends because she enjoys the euphoria it gives her at the beginning. then, it all comes crashing back down when her mind begins to whirl and create scenarios that don’t exist. one night, she even brought herself to tears.
“baby, please don’t let the dinosaurs take me to space and preform experiments on me and turn me into a giant shark eating ant.” she blabbered, wailing into your arms as you patted her back. did you have any clue what she was saying? no. was it funny? yes. when she got like this, you often liked to record it and show it to her the next day so that she can relive the embarrassment and you can relive the weirdness of her words.
♥︎ cross faded els who . . . tends to space out. there’s been multiple times where you’ve seen her come home from a night out with dina and jesse where she’s simply just staring at the wall. she’ll occasionally follow your fingers if you put them in front of her face, but her green hues stay trained to the beige surface.
♥︎ cross faded els who . . . follows cat lasers when you point them at the floor. you didn’t know what it was about being cross faded and cat lasers, but ellie definitely loved them. you had been using it to point to where you needed her to walk, and instead of walking, she got down on her knees and tried to cup the red dot in her hands. each time you moved it away, she would chase it.
“els, baby..” you murmured, holding back your laughter at the pathetic sight of her on all fours.
she whined, pouting her bottom lip. “i-i can’t pick it up—!” her eyes found yours in despair. “baby, pick it up for me! it’s being mean!”
juls’ note ! i’m ngl, it was kinda hard to write these just because i’ve never gotten drunk nor have i smoked and gotten drunk at the same time. so, if they’re a little cringe and off, just bear with me
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———SYNOPSIS: You expected your job at guitar center to be nothing more than ordinary . . . You are quickly proven wrong when a girl in your science class—Ellie—makes a trip to the instrument shop daily, trying to make her burning crush on you as subtle as possible.
———NOTES: Yet another smau ^3^ I hope u guys enjoy this!!!!!!!!!
synopsis: the worst thing about hope is how easily it disguises itself as possibility. ellie hears something that makes her question everything she thought she knew.
content warnings: kinda pervy ellie, suggestive content, ellie’s pov, informal style, loser!ellie, lowkey oblivious reader, obsessive themes, nerdy ellie, she is down bad, stalking? high school au (characters are eighteen). next part
entry: the planetarium incident continues to haunt me
it has been three days. THREE. and i am still thinking about her tying my shoelace. i wish i was joking. i wish i could tell you i've spent the last three days thinking about important things, like idk school maybe, my future? the inevitable heat death of the universe. But no. instead my brain keeps replaying the image of her crouching down in front of me, like girl PLEASE. lord have mercy. okay and of course she'd take care of me, remind me again why she isn't my girlfriend??? too many fucking reasons. It's messing me up, she always does stuff like that. and its always the little things that get me every single time… like d'you know she always brings me snacks along with her lunch, because she knows sometimes i forget? She also sends me notes when i'm sick (hand written ones i'm not that easy yes i am), she also texts me after every single one of my tests, to let me talk her head off about every detailed answer.
god.
and she remembers EVERYTHING.
i mentioned once that i liked those stupid astronaut ice cream things they sell at science museums, y'know those ones that are shaped like different space objects- you get it. i mentioned it ONCE. fucking months ago. this morning she just dropped it on my desk and kept walking right on to her class, shit she winked at me too, my nipples got hard immediately. so like she had to have gone all the way to the museum during her free period (i was in a class which is why i wasn't glued to her side), then come all the way back… just to get me some ice cream and not say anything. what on earth is the protocol. someone really needs to write a handbook.
entry: i stared at her for an entire class period
so later in class she sat by the window. the sun was right behind her so she looked all glowy and i spent most of biology trying not to stare. keyword: trying. i failed so, so miserably. and then she caught me, should've ended me honestly, except instead of looking weirded out she just smiled. again. SHE ALWAYS SMILES. why why why why why why why? every single time she smiles at me i feel like a bobblehead. idk the comparison makes sense to me, head empty. just wobbling around. i'm pathetic.
entry: concerning developments
i think she's gotten clingier. or maybe i've finally lost my mind. both options are possible, only one is believable. she showed up at my locker before first period, not unusual i guess. except she didn't actually need anything… she just stood there. talking. about nothing. and everything. some story about her weekend, her neighbour did something funny apparently, i can't remember my brain was spiraling cause i was so nervous and confused- just completely random stuff.
okaaayy so it it posible she just wanted to talk to me? yes or no yes or no yes or no. what the fuck is my fucking problem, this shouldn’t even be that big of a deal, and i'm almost one hundred percent sure she meant nothing by it. a girl can dream though…
hmmm but like she could've talked to anyone — not that i'm everrrr complaining, If her voice were a frequency, my mind would literally be tuned to it constantly — but there were people everywhere, and she chose to be leaning against the locker next to mine, talking to me for twenty minutes before class.
i'm very aware of how hella insane i sound at the moment (or always?), no one can ever read this they seriously won't understand, fuck i don't know. it felt nice.
entry: worst day of my life contender #47
i got paired with him. HIM. out of every person in the mother fucking class. out of the hundreds of students wandering around this school like confused livestock, i — the unlucky ellie williams — got paired with the one person i've been trying my hardest to avoid. Haven't i suffered enough already universe?
so there i was. sitting across from him (he’s not that good looking), trying to focus on the assignment. trying to act normal. trying not to think about how i've spent the last month secretly resenting a guy whose greatest crime is existing near a girl i like.
i was actually prepared to hate every second of it too. i sat down fully committed to being the least helpful project partner in recorded human history, not enough to get a bad grade though because unfortunately i care too much about school, but enough to make my displeasure known.
except this man had the fucking audacity to act like a decent guy, actually fuck off. i would've sooo preferred it if he was an asshole, because then i could've continued hating him totally guilt-free. instead he's just like an actual human being. i know shocker.
we were working for a while and then he asked how long i've known her and immediately my brain went into fight-or-flight response, keep my wifes name out yo mouth. The conversation was so unbareable, he actually knew her more than i thought he would. when he started talking, i was like okayy?? actually get the fuck outta my face right now. but turns out i'm a idiot, who's surprised at this point? not me.
apparently she tutors him in math.
math. apparently he's awful at math, he’s horrible. which i absolutely did not expect by the way — he looks like somebody who understands taxes. told me he begged her not to tell a soul cause he was embarrassed (I mean I would be too, except I’m great at math so), which explains EVERYTHING.
all those times i saw them together… after class, at luch, while i was sitting alone rotting from jealousy, they were doing algebra. yep. algebra. i was losing sleep over algebra. just took the idiot test and got a whopping 100% yayy. should we include that on my gravestone:
"here lies ellie. spent three weeks emotionally devastated by a quadratic equation." i still hate his ass.
As embarrassing as that whole thing was, it's not even half of what's occupying my mind now. because he mentioned that she talks about me a lot. and i laughed initially because obviously that's ridiculous. and he was like no, and that he really wanted to speak with me cause of it and blah blah blah.
then he started listing the things. stuff she'd allegedly said about me. how i'm funny, how i know random facts about everything, how i always pretend not to care when i actually care a lot (she knows me so well it’s scary). i have goosebumps all over my body writing this, cause this is literally exactly what he told me. I swear i can't fucking sleep i don't even know how to begin processing any of these emotions. all these feelings i have for her. she talks about me when i'm not there… like enough that somebody noticed. do you know how much you’d have to talk about someone for that to happen? it feels insane, god.
there's something weirdly intimate about that, not even in a romantic way. just... she thinks about me when i'm not around.
oof that's a dangerous piece of information for somebody like me to have, i already started being ellie about it, where i take one tiny thing and immediately start building entire civilizations out of it. i keep imagining her mentioning me in random conversations. the thought of that is making me feel weird. good weird. bad weird? definitely both.
DON'T FUCK UP YOUR FREINDSHIP WITH HER ELLIE !!
gahhh! and then the conversation got even worse cause his ass admitted he likes her — which yeah, obviously. join the fucking club. take a number we meet on thursdays.
it actually felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest having to sit there, listening to him describe all the reasons he likes her and i couldn't even disagree. every single thing he said was true. she does make people feel important. i hate how easy it is to love her, i really do.
he told me he doesn't think she likes him back. should've made me happy, and it kind of did. fuck am i a terrible person? he's literally in the exact same situation i'm in, i know how bad it hurts, trust me i KNOW. I just… selfishly felt relieved that she didn't want him. but then he said he thinks she likes someone else. thank you for giving me a whole four seconds to bask in it before pulling the rug from under my feet. very generous. so now i'm sitting there listening to this guy talk about how great the woman I’m in love with is, who apparently has been noticing things… like there was someone specific she likes. and he said she gets distracted sometimes. like lights up when she gets a text from, what looks like the luckiest person in the world from where I’m standing. while he was talking i just sat there nodding, pretending i didn’t want to crawl into a hole or gutter or something and die.
i haven't stopped thinking about that since. somebody else. some random guy probably. some nice normal guy with nice normal guy hobbies and functioning social skills.
not me.
definitely not me.
because i'm currently sitting here at 1:13 in the morning already four tear stained pages in of my diary fuckin' journal, because a girl i'm secretly in love with apparently talks about me when i'm not around. it's never fucking over is it.
and y'know what makes me geniunely the biggest pathetic loser? after allll that, spending hours listening to a guy rave about how amazing she is, hearing that she probably has feelings for someone else, and feeling like absolute garbage all because of this one woman.. she texted me asking if i wanted to bake cookies with her tomorrow, and I’ve already forgotten about all the pain. She’s my favorite notification — my favorite everything, actually.
i'm going to sleep now, and definitely not to reread all our texts first. unrequited final boss.
𝐆𝐅!𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 who likes to do Just Dance with you. She doesn’t have a console that supports it, so she just pulls up recordings on youtube.
It’s just a silly game, right? No. Ellie dances like her life depends on it; like she’s gaining those five stars herself. Unbeknownst to her, she’s a pretty shitty dancer and it looks more like she’s flailing her body around rather than following a choreography.
She gets upset when you laugh at her.
𝐆𝐅!𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 who will genuinely wake you up at 3am with her loud-ass laughing at a silly TikTok like this. When you glare over at her, clearly annoyed, she just shoves her bright phone screen in your face.
“Babe, look at this, it’s fucking hilarious.” Yet, you’re not laughing, and she finally catches the hint that you’re quite irritated with her interrupting her your beauty sleep. “Sorry,” she’ll whisper with a soft smile, putting her phone down and pulling you into her chest, lulling you back to sleep.
𝐆𝐅!𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 who lowkirkenuinely (sorry i had to) turns you on without her realizing. She always walks around in wife-pleasers, showing off her lean muscle. Not to add, she’s constantly hugging you from behind and kissing that sweet spot on your neck that makes your stomach flip.
And god, don’t let her get a haircut. When she cuts her auburn hair in short layers during the summer, somehow making those cute freckles of hers even more prominent, your panties are on the bedroom floor IMMEDIATELY.
𝐆𝐅!𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 who learns any song you want her to on her guitar. She’s immediately listening to the song over and over, learning it by ear until it’s perfect to present to you. She loves the wide smile that grows on your face when she finally plays it for you, and she loves it even more when you sing along to it.
𝐆𝐅!𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 who loves to play video games with you. There’s only one desk chair in her apartment, so you usually end up sitting in her lap.
If you’re good at them, she’ll enjoy working with you, or occasionally battling you. She’ll get a bit annoyed if you’re better at something than her, but she’ll praise you either way.
If you’re bad at them, she’ll teach you how to play, defend you from any enemies, and curse out any online players who make fun of you. No, like… she genuinely gets upset if anyone says something about your gaming skills. Face tomato red and everything.
𝐆𝐅!𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 whose first love confession was through dinosaur puns she had written out on a handmade card with a picture of the two of you attached.
“I love you saur much. You make my heart stomp with happiness. Let's steg together forever. You have me raptor round your finger. Be mine?”
She giggled as you read each one aloud.
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I hope you liked it. 🤍 Reblogs, likes, and feedback are appreciated! Requests are open.
a/n: surprise! here’s a little somethin’ while i work on my next fics. mwah mwah happy saturday!
cw: 18+ as always, minors dni. sub!ellie, dom!reader, oral sex (e receiving), choking, tribbing, some…controlling aspects, multiple orgasms
ellie’s got it bad for you.
so bad, she doesn’t have it in her to be embarrassed when jesse and dina catch her staring at you in the middle of band practice, eyes glazed over, nodding along with whatever they’re saying even when she’s got nothing in her head but you you you.
it’s frustrating sometimes, what you do to her. she’s less efficient as a songwriter and guitar player—always casting glances at you in the middle of practice, chewing her lip till it damn near bleeds because it’ll keep her from making a mess of her boxer briefs. always picturing your pretty lips around her strap, you kneeling before her while she face-fucks you till you gag and choke. always tilting her head when you stand up from your seat beside her, going off to rifle through your purse for something, just praying she’ll get a glimpse at your panties when your skirt rides up.
when the rest of the band filters out and it’s just you two, she gets you in her lap, kissing you silly. you’re so perfect in her arms, smiling shyly when she pulls back and covers your face in chaste, adoring kisses.
“we should go,” you say, glancing at the clock on the wall. she frowns and you catch it, adding, “i really need to study, finals are next week.”
“you’re gonna kill ‘em, babe,” she assures you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. your cheeks go pink. she could eat you whole. “smartest girl i know. smartest person, actually.”
you giggle, a sound that makes ellie’s stomach flip. and then your expression shifts from carefree to hesitant, and she furrows her brows. “what’s wrong?”
“nothing, i’m sorry—i was gonna ask if you wanted to help me study? i have flash cards.”
ellie grins. “i can do flash cards.”
it’s not the first time ellie’s been at your house, but it is the first time she’s pulled into the driveway and noticed that your parents aren’t home. she casts a glance at you in the passenger’s seat while she pulls the keys from the ignition, but if you notice that she’s wondering about the lack of two mercedes in the driveway, you don’t let on. you give her one of those sickeningly sweet smiles and her heart hammers.
inside, you stop in the kitchen to fix a couple glasses of pink lemonade with twisty straws and fresh lemon slices, then lead her up the stairs to your bedroom. ellie tries (and fails) to avert her eyes from the place where your thigh-highs squish into the meat of your legs, the skin pooling out of the fabric good enough to eat. she has to think about the worst things to keep her cunt from throbbing. dead puppies, shit like that.
“i’m so stressed,” you confess as you open the door to your bedroom, ellie striding in behind you.
“why, princess? you’ll do great.” she takes her glass of lemonade when you offer it, sips from the straw and beams at you.
your room suits you perfectly. all shades of white and pink, floral print everywhere, heart-shaped pillows, cute bunny plushies organized carefully on the bed. it smells like sugar cookies and your perfume. ellie watches you locate your study materials, then sort through them till you find the necessary flash cards. she starts looking through them while you climb onto the bed, your skirt riding up to expose a new sliver of your thighs. if there is a god, he’s got it out for ellie today.
“come here, el,” you pout, holding out your hands for her.
“don’t be impatient, now.” she joins you on the bed despite her better judgment. looks down at the flash cards and struggles to read the first one because her blood is rushing south at a dizzying rate.
“uh—eukaryotic cells.”
“cells which have a nucleus enclosed within the nuclear membrane.”
ellie gapes at you. “okay, smarty pants, you got it. prokaryotic cells?”
you answer and she shuffles through to the next card, continuing to prompt your spot-on definitions until it becomes clear that you’re more than ready for your final. it only takes five minutes to make it through the entire stack of cards. and then you’re asking her to kiss you.
“baby,” she mutters, leaning over the side of the bed to set the flash cards onto the floor, “i’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
just like every other time, your mouth tastes like heaven. sweet from the pink lemonade, your tongue dances over hers, soft moans leaving your lips for her to swallow eagerly. the two of you have made out more times than ellie can count on both hands, but it never leads any further. something always comes up—you have to get to bed, dinner’s ready downstairs, things like that. more often than not, you stop because ellie feels like she’s going to lose control of herself and scare you away.
but this time, it’s different.
your hands, soft and warm, skate up ellie’s tattooed arms. your perfectly manicured nails rake through her hair. your eyes are blown nearly black with lust when you pull away, staring up at ellie like you’re silently begging to be fucked.
“ellie,” you whisper, frustrated by the sliver of mattress that separates the two of you.
“yeah, yeah, angel, i’ve got you.” she closes the gap, climbing between your spread legs until she’s hovering over you. she nudges her nose against your cheekbone. “so pretty underneath me.”
and god, you are so pretty underneath her. white off-the-shoulder top skewed from her touches, lips swollen, soft locks of hair splayed around your head. that look in your eyes that says i’m yours, please take me. she wants to hear you scream her name.
the lewd, wet sounds of your make-out sesh go right to her cunt; she doesn’t even realize she’s grinding down against you until she feels your hips move in response, in search of friction. the sensation draws a ragged moan from her, and then she’s grabbing at your thighs with a touch that will certainly bruise. you won’t be wearing a skirt this short tomorrow.
“take this off,” you breathe when you pull back from the heated kiss. you’re tugging at her tattered band tee. “and your pants.”
a surprised huff of laughter leaves her lips. “whoa there, sweetheart. you sure?”
her eyes find yours. she’s just as turned on as you are, but she can still stop while she’s ahead. now, if you get her down to her boxers? that might not be so easy to come back from.
you stare back at her, unblinking. “i’m sure.”
sitting back on her heels, ellie keeps her eyes on you while she works her shirt up over her head. she revels in the way your eyes leave hers, only to admire the sight of her naked torso, her ample tits with dusty rose nipples. your tongue swipes over your lips. her clit twitches.
she has to get up to take her pants off, and when she does, she notices that you’re not making any efforts to undress yourself. she stops with her belt unbuckled, button undone, zipper pulled down. “what, i don’t get to see my girl naked?”
“only if you’re good,” you say with a wicked smile. it catches her off guard, hearing a comment like that from you, but it does encourage her to push her jeans down to her ankles.
when she gets back on the bed and kisses you again, you’re not as soft. not as pliable, like putty in her hands. no, you’re insistent—your tongue breaches her mouth almost instantly and you lick into her until he’s nearly panting. you’re sitting up in your disheveled clothing, holding her face and kissing her like you’re going to swallow her whole. given the fact that you’re usually the one on the receiving end of kisses like this, ellie’s surprised. she breaks the kiss and gives you a look - one you feign ignorance to.
“i’m—sorry, am i reading this wrong? i thought… aren’t you a virgin?”
you smile at her, eyes heavy-lidded. “oh, ellie, baby.”
the way you sound makes her go dizzy for a second. sultry, raspy, sexy. your voice must’ve dropped a couple octaves. you’re not a virgin, she suddenly realizes, not even close. not when you’re dipping your head into her neck and smothering her with hot, wet kisses, your hand moving to grope at the wet spot soaking through the thin fabric of her boxers, fingertips tracing heavy over the outline of her pussy. a moan leaves her lips before she can think to stifle it. worse, she bucks her hips up to chase your touch.
you suck your teeth. disapproving.
“eager, aren’t you?” you move to climb off the bed, kneeling beside it. the sensation of your fingers, skating right over the waistband of her boxers, makes her whimper. she whimpers.
“baby, you’re killing me,” she chokes out. you run a french-tipped nail over her sparse happy trail. she bites her lip.
“i know,” you respond, and your voice is still sickly sweet. “but i’ll take care of you, el. don’t you want that?”
she’s not sure what that means exactly, but she finds herself nodding quickly.
turns out that it means eating her pussy like a fucking porn star.
you’d ripped off her boxers in one swift motion, then spit a glob of saliva onto her flushed, aching clit. wasting no time at all, you’d slid your fingers through her cunt with the lubrication of your own spit, and finally, when she didn’t think it could get better, you’d put your mouth on her. and that’s what it’s been like for the past few minutes. you’re tongue-fucking her now, face buried so deep between her legs she can’t imagine how you’re not gasping and sputtering for air.
“jesus christ, babe,” she gasps, involuntarily thrusting her hips up. your tongue pushes further into the constricting heat of her cunt and she throws her head back, overcome with bliss. but then you’re pulling back, mouth leaving her soaked pussy. the loss makes her whine again.
“wh—what happened?” she’s dazed.
“you’re being a fucking brat,” you respond as you rub a hand over your mouth to wipe away the wetness. “can’t just let me eat you out, huh? have to push it. god, ellie.”
you sound genuinely pissed off, so she flushes red with embarrassment and gives you an apologetic look. “i’m so sorry, i couldn’t—”
“—couldn’t control yourself?”
she stares, mouth hanging open. you laugh, a humorless chuckle. and then you’re standing up, reaching under your skirt to slide your panties down your thighs.
“listen, baby,” you say as you step out of your underwear and move to straddle your girlfriend’s thighs. “if we’re gonna fuck, you need to learn how to control yourself. be a good girl for me. can you do that?”
in all of her daydreams about your first time having sex as a couple, she’d never imagined this.
“yes,” she hears herself say. “i can do that.”
“do what?”
“i can…” ellie’s cunt weeps another rush of wetness. “i can be a good girl.”
satisfied, you reach down to swipe your fingers through her folds—still sticky and wet from your unfinished head. “when i ride you, i don’t want to hear a sound. okay?”
“o-okay.” she’d agree to anything at this point. she’s under a trance. your rose-scented, strawberry-flavored hypnotism.
when you finally slide into a comfortable position, bare, soaked cunts sliding against one another, she bites her tongue so hard she swears she tastes blood. a strangled, ragged sigh leaves her nose, nostrils flaring as you lift your hips and move them back again. you’re wet, soft, and skilled with your hips. everything she’s dreamed of and more. she wants to moan your name, but the way you’re looking at her, like a siren ready to drag her underwater, it keeps her from making a single fucking peep. she lets you take what you need, content to stare in awe as your tits bounce beneath your pristine white shirt.
“doing so well for me,” you praise, hips circulating in a good rhythm now. “you can talk, baby—tell me, how’s my pussy feel?”
“fuuuuck,” she practically wails, “you’re so good, god, feels s’fucking good.”
“mm,” you hum. you’ve found a rotation to hit a spot that fills you with white-hot pleasure, and each time you lift your hips and rub against her again, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to an orgasm. “your cunt feels good, el. might come soon, would you like that?”
she nods. you can feel her hips twitch, like she’s dying to fuck herself up against you, but you’re so close to the edge that you don’t have it in you to chastise her. you do, however, have it in you to tell her, “beg for my cum, then. be a good girl, you said you’d be a good girl.”
“please,” she gasps, feeling your cunt twitch against hers, “please, baby, need your cum.”
she’s getting close too, so she doesn’t feel embarrassed that you’ve got her whining, desperate for you to cream all over her. it’s hot, actually, the fact that she’s begging for you. her sweet, innocent little girlfriend, giving her the ride of her life and making her beg for you. she’d never considered this. stupid of her.
emboldened by her impending orgasm, ellie reaches for one of your hands and moves it from her shoulder to her throat. her eyes are wide and pleading when you look down at her. relief overcomes her features when you adjust your grip and then squeeze, her pulse thudding beneath your fingertips.
this is new for her. it’s all new for her. but when you come with your hand around her throat and your cunt sliding, drenched, against hers, she can’t help but scold herself internally for not doing this sooner. you don’t whimper or cry when you come, but you do say her name, drawing it out in that low, gravelly voice of yours that she hadn’t heard until today. and that’s enough for her to reach her own high, coming with a ragged groan. a mistake that she doesn’t process until she’s spent, panting, still dizzy with the fading pleasure that leaves her in waves.
you’ve gone still on top of her.
she looks at you and finds your expression displeased.
“i’m—shit, i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry, sweetheart, I really wasn’t thinking.”
“i can tell,” you say, voice flat. she moves to lift you from her lap, intending to get up and clean you both up, but you swat her hands away. “did i say we’re done?”
she stutters for a second before she can get out real words. “no, you…didn’t.”
“i can tell you’re going to be a tough one,” you sigh, “but you’ll learn.”
and with that, you start moving your hips again. the overstimulation on ellie’s still-sensitive clit makes her jolt, but one pointed look from you has her going still again. your hips form slow, narrow circles. cum seeps out of your cunt and leaks down onto hers.
after an agonizing minute or two, the pain of overstimulation melts into pleasure. you notice ellie’s expression change, a wrinkle forming between her brows again.
“there’s a good girl.” your praise is music to her ears. her lips open to allow her to breathe as heavy as she needs to, heaving gasps that go straight to your sopping cunt. you gush even wetter.
“mmph, fuck,” ellie groans. she shoots a worried glance up at your domineering face, but when she finds that you’re gazing down at her with unbridled lust in your eyes, she relaxes again.
“you can make as much noise as you want now, pretty girl,” you assure her. “i wanna hear how good i make you feel. even when you’ve—mm, even when you’ve been a bad girl. and you don’t deserve it.”
if she weren’t already turned on again, she is now. you start to ride her in earnest again, fucking down onto her in a rhythm that has the entire room ringing out with sounds of skin slapping against skin. she grabs your hips to hold herself steady, but then you push her shoulders until she falls back onto the mattress. your hands grab her wrists, and she’s entirely unsurprised when you pin them above her head and ride her faster, harder—she’s unsurprised, but it still makes her cry out in pleasure.
“baby, i need you to apologize,” you coo down at ellie as you continue your relentless riding.
“h-huh?”
“apologize for coming without permission,” you clarify, voice just a little strained.
“oh,” ellie says. her brows are pulled together; her face is all twisted up in an absolutely sinful expression, one that makes your cunt feel impossibly wetter. “i’m sorry, babe, i already said sorry.”
“then say it again, if i tell you to.” you lift your hips until you’re barely touching her, and when she starts to sputter pathetic, whiny apologies in an endless stream, you drop your greedy cunt back onto hers.
“you really are a brat,” you tell her. it’s getting harder to talk to her like this, straight-faced and patronizing, because you’re getting close again. but you steel yourself and go on. “such a bad girl, what should i do with you, hm?”
“anything,” ellie blabbers, wrists flexing in your grasp, “i’ll do anything—i’ll let you do anything to me.”
“oh?” you smile, still gasping lungfuls of air, exhausted but chasing your second climax. you lean forward and lick along the angle of ellie’s jaw, up up up to her ear. she shivers violently as you whisper, “you’d let me fuck your tight little hole?”
you can’t see her face with your mouth against her neck, kissing and sucking and biting at her sensitive skin, but you imagine that she looks shocked. and you don’t blame her. you’ve got your good girl act down, you have for years. and ellie fell for it, bless her heart. she probably thought this would go differently; probably imagined she’d be the one overstimulating you and making you whine and beg and whimper, shaking like a leaf as you near another orgasm. but here you are.
and you’re glad she so obviously likes it.
“yes,” ellie hisses through her teeth. “yes, yes, i’d—you could fuck me, whatever you want.”
“bet you’d love it,” you tell her honestly. “you’d love having your pretty pussy stuffed with my cock, wouldn’t you?”
you’re practically dripping sweat at this point from the exertion of tribbing, clothes clinging to your body with perspiration. under your skirt, ellie’s pelvis is drenched with sex.
“are you gonna come for me, pretty girl? you can—you’ve already made such a mess.”
she’s nodding, gasping. crying, even. you don’t notice until she sniffles, drawing your attention to her reddened face. her cheeks shine with tears. you coo a gentle good girl at her and she lets a high moan loose.
“come, el. come for me.”
she doesn’t need much encouragement, she really doesn’t, but your command pushes her over the edge. coming with a cry that nearly tears her throat apart, she shakes and shivers in your hold until you finally let up and slow your rolling hips. ellie looks so beautiful when she comes, and right after, too. dazed, pussy drunk, eyes foggy. lips chewed raw. tears still wet at the corners of her eyes.
“you didn’t come again,” she points out. she sounds so small.
“i know,” you agree. “but you can fix that, sweet girl.”
finally releasing her wrists from your grip, you roll onto the bed beside her on your back. you reach a hand between your legs and swipe your fingers through the puffy folds of your cunt, releasing a satisfied hum when you feel how soaked you are.
you’re surprised when you look up and find her already making her way between your legs, eyes glued to your pussy.
“i can fix it,” she repeats. “can i taste you?”
“oh, ellie,” you say, “i knew you’d be a good girl. go ahead.”
summary: ellie is helping you move out of your place and into hers. the process is stressful, so she helps you relax.
a/n: this is another fic inspired by an old req i took an eternity to write, so shoutout to whoever requested ellie and reader using tape during sex. mwah! divider by @strangergraphics <3
your apartment looks bare. naked. after countless hours spent packing your life into boxes, the once-cozy living room is nothing but four white walls and dozens of cardboard boxes, all the personality and vibrancy stripped from the place.
ellie’s helping you pack, her hair pulled into a haphazard bun. there’s a slight sheen of sweat on her freckle-kissed forehead, which she swipes away with the back of her hand before she resumes taping up a box labeled misc tv stand stuff.
when she’s done, she lets out a sigh, patting the now-sealed box. “y’know, i could really go for some pizza right now.”
“god, yes,” you respond as you scribble living room onto another box. your stomach growls as if it heard you talking. “but I still have so much shit to pack.”
“which is why pizza delivery is a thing,” ellie says, sidling up to you. she loops an arm around your waist to pull you close, pressing a kiss to your temple. “you need a break, anyway.”
though you won’t admit it aloud, she’s right. you’ve been up since daybreak, scrambling around your apartment to get as much packing done as possible. and while you’ve made great progress, you’re completely drained. you lean into ellie’s touch, melting into her side.
“fine,” you say, not needing much convincing. “just make sure to order extra pineapple on the pizza.”
ellie makes a disgusted face, nose wrinkling. “you’re sick. actually, let’s unpack your stuff, i don’t think you’ll be moving in with me after all.”
“you ass.” you give her a shove, rolling your eyes despite the smile on your face. “shut up, you basically begged me to move in with you.”
“yeah, yeah,” ellie scoffs, though she notably doesn’t deny the accusation. she slips her phone out of her back pocket and pulls up the pizza delivery app. a few clicks later, the order has been placed, and you unravel from ellie’s arms to return to your packing duties. she huffs, following you to a stack of books in one corner of the living room. “i thought we agreed to take a break.”
“we’ll take a break when the pizza’s here,” you respond, handing her a few paperbacks and gesturing towards an empty box at ellie’s side. she lowers the books into the box, then takes the rest of the pile from your hands to pack up. as you scan the room for something productive to do, ellie tapes up the newly filled box, her eyes flickering over your exhausted frame. excited as she is to live with you, ellie can see that the moving process is taking its toll. you really do need to take a break from packing… and, you know what? she’s got an idea to get you to relax.
“c’mere,” ellie says suddenly, bringing you out of your internal inventory of the apartment. she crooks a finger at you, beckoning you closer, and when you oblige, she places two steadying hands on your hips.
“what is it?” you ask, blinking at her.
“have you ever had sex on the floor?”
you let out a surprised laugh. “ellie, what?”
“genuine question,” ellie says. “have you?”
“well, uh… no. i haven’t.”
lips quirking into a smile, ellie asks, “wanna try it?”
and that’s how you end up sprawled out naked on the hardwood floor of your living room, a star wars blanket the only barrier between you and the cold flooring as ellie traces the folds of your cunt with her tongue.
now that your living room is significantly empty of furniture, there’s a bit of an echo. that’s proven to be unhelpful in stifling the sounds ellie pulls out of you with her mouth between your legs, so every moan that leaves your lips is amplified to an absurd volume - you’re positive your neighbors can hear you getting wrecked. still, ellie’s tongue on your clit is so blindingly good, you can’t help but cry out every time she makes contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves. after a particularly drawn-out, almost pornographic moan, ellie breaks away from her place between your thighs.
“fuck, you’re loud,” she rasps under her breath. “am i gonna need to use some of that?”
she nods towards the roll of duct tape on the floor beside you, last used to tape up the box of books ellie had packed earlier.
it’s a joke. you know it’s a joke.
but the thought of ellie taping your mouth shut to keep you quiet as she fucks you brainless… it stokes a fire in your lower belly, your already-drenched cunt somehow getting wetter.
“el, please,” you murmur, sounding just as needy as you feel.
she fixates on you with those gorgeous hazel eyes, lust clouding her gaze as she appraises the sight of your naked body splayed out for her, your cunt already shiny with your arousal and her saliva. when she imagines you with that pretty mouth taped shut, letting her fuck you open with her fingers as you moan weakly behind the barrier of the tape, her clit throbs with need. she reaches for the tape, rips off a chunk, and turns toward you with a questioning look.
“you sure?” she asks. her free hand moves to brush a loose strand of hair out of your face.
you nod your assent, and ellie smothers you with one last searing kiss before she smooths the tape against your mouth. she settles between your legs again, peppering kisses over the supple skin of your inner thighs, and you sink a hand into her hair, scratching gently at her scalp as her mouth moves closer and closer to where you need her most. she presses a chaste kiss to your swollen clit, and that alone has you moaning behind the tape.
“so sensitive,” ellie murmurs. she kisses your clit again, then laves at the sensitive bud with her tongue to draw another moan from deep in your chest. you tighten your grip on ellie’s hair as she laps at your folds greedily, the filthy, wet sounds of her mouth on your sex making you dizzy. she has you like that for what feels like hours, hands on your hips to hold you in place, face buried between your legs. every swipe of her tongue over your clit leaves you shivering, hips jolting, and ellie moans into the wetness of your cunt every time she feels you clench against her mouth. you’re already hurtling quickly towards the edge, the pressure in your lower belly growing with every motion of ellie’s tongue. when she slips her middle finger into your heat, meeting no resistance, she hisses your name under her breath.
“fuck,” she grunts. “you’re soaked, baby.”
all you can do is moan in response, the sound muffled by the tape. ellie coos, “shhh, i know. let me take care of you.”
she works a second finger into your entrance, cursing under her breath again as you clench around both of her digits. spurred on by the sensation, she scissors her fingers inside you, stretching you further, and you rock your hips as if to encourage her to move faster. she obliges, quickening the thrusts of her fingers as her mouth returns to your puffy clit. ellie lets a string of saliva dribbles from her mouth to your cunt, and she spreads the glob of spit with her tongue, circling your clit until your moans grow high-pitched and desperate, every sound you make spurring her on. she fucks you with her fingers at a relentless pace, the stretch tantalizing, and her mouth is pure sin as she sucks at your clit, desperate to make you come.
and when you finally do, it’s with a broken, punched-out moan muffled with tape, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you reach your orgasm. your thighs cage ellie’s head between them, her mouth still latched onto your clit as you gush around her fingers, and she fucks you through every last wave of pleasure that washes over you, her brow furrowed in concentration.
when you go limp in her arms, ellie pulls back, fingers leaving the warmth of your cunt. she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes on you.
“this didn’t seem to help much,” she says as she slowly peels the strip of tape from your mouth. “but honestly? that was hot.”
your cheeks burn. ellie grins at the embarrassed look on your face, then kisses you soft and sweet. “i mean it. we should do that again sometime.”
“i’m not opposed to it,” you admit, chewing at the corner of your lip.
just as ellie moves in for another kiss, there’s a knock at the door.
“shit, the pizza,” she says, rushing to stand up and scrambling to find her clothes - all she’s got on is a pair of boyshorts. too relaxed to move, you wrap yourself up in the star wars blanket, watching ellie hop to the door as she tries to put on her sweatpants one leg at a time. she fumbles for the cash in her pocket, opens the door, and exchanges pleasantries with the delivery person.
turns out she did not, indeed, order extra pineapple.
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𝜗𝜚 synopsis: Ellie calls you over on an ordinary night, no reason at all but love—trying to make it special, fumbling it a little, and somehow getting it exactly right anyway.
𝜗𝜚 content warnings: Romance, fluff, mild emotional distress, brief mention of alcohol, modern au, awkward!ellie Williams x gf!reader, handmade gifts
──────⊱⁜⊰──────
You noticed something was off the second you stepped into Ellie’s apartment. Not wrong—just… off. Too clean. The kind of clean that felt unnatural, like walking into a staged version of her life. The usual clutter was gone: no scattered guitar picks, no open notebooks, no half-finished sketches abandoned mid-thought. Even the couch blankets were folded—folded—instead of piled into the chaotic nest she usually lived in.
You stood there for a second, keys still in your hand, taking it in. “…Ellie?” you called.
There was a loud thud from the bedroom, followed immediately by a strained, “I’m fine!”
You blinked, already smiling. “You don’t sound fine.”
“I said I’m fine—just—don’t come in here!”
That made you pause, amusement settling in your chest. “…you’re doing something weird.”
“No I’m not!”
“You are absolutely doing something weird.”
You slipped your shoes off and wandered further in anyway, your gaze drifting over the suspiciously spotless surfaces. She’d vacuumed. Everything. You almost wanted to take a picture. “Ellie,” you called again, leaning casually against the wall near her door, “if you set something on fire—”
“I didn’t set anything on fire!” she shot back, then quieter, “…this time.”
You huffed out a laugh. “You gonna let me in, or—”
The door flew open so fast it nearly hit you. Ellie stood there, slightly out of breath, like she’d just sprinted across the room. Her hair was a mess, cheeks flushed, flannel slipping off one shoulder in that way she never seemed able to fix. She looked… nervous. Which, for Ellie, meant this mattered.
“Hi,” she said.
You raised a brow, leaning your shoulder into the frame. “Hi.”
She stared at you for a second like her brain had short-circuited, then immediately panicked. “Wait—no, don’t look behind me—” She grabbed your shoulders and physically turned you away from the doorway before you could even try. “Nope. Not yet.”
“Ellie—”
“Give me, like, thirty seconds.”
“You’ve had all day.”
“Okay, rude, but true—still, thirty seconds!” She pointed at you like she was laying down the law. “Stay.”
You bit back a smile. “I’m staying.”
She disappeared back into the room, the door shutting behind her as more quiet chaos unfolded—muttering, a soft clatter, the sound of something being dragged slightly across the floor. “…where the fuck—no, that was supposed to—oh my god,” she whispered to herself, and you had to press your lips together to keep from laughing.
“…Ellie?” you called.
“WAIT.”
You counted to five. Then ten.
Finally, her voice came again, softer this time. “…okay. You can come in.”
You pushed the door open slowly—and stopped.
It wasn’t perfect. It couldn’t be. The bed was half-made, one corner of the sheet slipping loose, and the candles scattered around the room were mismatched and uneven, some already melted crookedly down one side. Fairy lights were strung everywhere in that distinctly Ellie way—not neat, not symmetrical, just draped wherever they could reach, glowing softly in uneven lines. The whole room flickered in warm, golden light, shadows shifting gently against the walls.
And in the middle of it all stood Ellie.
Looking like she didn’t know what to do with herself now that you were seeing it.
“…surprise?” she said, voice a little unsure.
Something in your chest softened instantly. “Ellie…”
“I know it’s kind of a mess,” she rushed out, words tripping over each other. “I had a vision, and then the vision didn’t fully translate, and also I burned my finger earlier, which feels relevant—”
You stepped toward her before she could spiral any further, and she stopped talking immediately. Her shoulders dropped just a little when you got close.
“…hi,” she said again, quieter now.
“Hi.”
You reached up, gently fixing the collar of her flannel where it had twisted, your fingers brushing her skin for just a second. “You did all this?”
“Yeah,” she mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck. “I just—wanted to do something nice. For no reason. Which is a reason, I guess.”
You glanced around again—the candles, the lights, the speaker already set up with a playlist waiting to play—and then back at her. “You cleaned your entire apartment.”
“Don’t bring that part up,” she said quickly. “It ruins the vibe.”
“It improves the vibe.”
“Debatable.”
You laughed softly, then stepped a little closer, your voice gentler now. “Just us is my favorite.”
That did it. You saw it land—the way her expression shifted, the way something in her softened and gave a little under the weight of it. “…cool,” she said, quieter. “Good. That’s—good.”
The music started then, low and soft, filling the space between you without interrupting it. Ellie glanced toward the speaker like it had betrayed her timing, then back at you, suddenly unsure again. “So, um…”
You tilted your head slightly. “So, um?”
She let out a nervous huff of a laugh. “Do you wanna—like—dance? Or is that—too much? Because I can dial it back. We can sit. Sitting is good. I love sitting.”
You didn’t answer right away. You just reached for her hand.
Her fingers curled around yours instantly, like instinct, like they always did.
“Ellie,” you murmured, stepping closer, “dance with me.”
She blinked, then smiled—small at first, then real. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Yeah, okay.”
Her hands found your waist, a little hesitant at first, like she was still checking if she was allowed to be there. Yours slid up to her shoulders, then around her neck, pulling her in just enough that she didn’t have to wonder anymore. She came easily, like she’d been waiting for it, like the space between you had been the only thing holding her back.
You started to sway, slow and slightly off-beat, the kind of movement that didn’t care about rhythm so much as closeness. Ellie let out a quiet breath, her grip tightening just a little.
“…this is better than my original plan,” she admitted.
You smiled against her. “Oh? What was your original plan?”
“I was gonna try to be smooth,” she said, already sounding embarrassed. “Had, like, a whole line ready.”
“Let’s hear it.”
She groaned immediately, dropping her forehead to yours. “Nope. Absolutely not. It’s gone now.”
“Ellie—”
“It’s gone!”
You laughed softly, nudging your nose against hers. “Coward.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, her voice warm, fond. “But I’m your coward.”
Your hand shifted, thumb brushing along her cheek, grounding her there with you. She stilled for a second under the touch, then melted into it, her thumb starting to trace slow, absent circles against your side.
“…hey,” she said after a moment.
“Yeah?”
“I like this.”
You smiled, your voice just as soft. “Me too.”
She swallowed, something deeper flickering behind her eyes now. “No, I mean… I really like this. You. Being here. With me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmured.
Ellie looked at you like that meant everything. Like it settled something in her that had been restless all day.
“…okay,” she whispered.
Then she leaned in.
The kiss was gentle, a little uneven in that way that was so her—warm, unpolished, real. She smiled into it halfway through like she couldn’t help herself, like the feeling of you was already too much in the best way.
When you pulled back, she didn’t let you go far. Her forehead stayed pressed to yours, her breath still mingling with yours in the quiet glow of the room.
“…nailed it,” she murmured.
You huffed a quiet laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Yeah,” she said, eyes flicking to your lips and back, soft and certain now. “But I’m yours.”
And standing there, wrapped in warm light and uneven candles and the quiet hum of something that felt steady and real, you knew—
that was the part that mattered most.
The music kept playing, soft and steady, but neither of you really moved to start another proper dance.
You didn’t need to.
Ellie’s hands stayed at your waist, thumbs still tracing those slow, absent circles like she’d forget where to put them if she stopped. Your arms rested loosely around her shoulders now, fingers idly playing with the ends of her hair where it curled at the nape of her neck. The room felt warmer than it should have, candlelight flickering unevenly across the walls, catching in the soft lines of her face.
For a while, you just stood there.
Close. Quiet. Breathing the same air.
Then Ellie huffed a small laugh under her breath, like she’d just remembered something. “Okay, wait—don’t move.”
You raised a brow. “That sounds suspicious.”
“It’s not suspicious,” she said quickly, already pulling back, hands slipping from your waist like it physically cost her something. “It’s… a surprise.”
“You already did a surprise.”
“No, I didn’t,” she insisted, backing toward her dresser. “That was just ambiance. This is—hold on—this is where I redeem myself.”
“You don’t need redeeming,” you said, watching her crouch down and start digging through one of the drawers, shoving aside what sounded like pencils and loose paper.
“I know,” she muttered. “But I want it anyway.”
There was a soft shuffle of paper, the clink of something small being pushed aside, and then a quiet, “aha.”
She stood back up, but instead of turning to you right away, she just… hovered there for a second. Shoulders slightly hunched. One hand rubbing the back of her neck.
“…don’t laugh,” she said.
Your expression softened instantly. “I’m not gonna laugh.”
“You might,” she mumbled. “It’s kind of—okay, it’s definitely cheesy. But like, in a self-aware way. I think.”
“Ellie.”
“Okay, fine. Shutting up.”
She turned and walked back over, holding something behind her back like she didn’t fully trust herself not to bail last second.
When she stopped in front of you, she hesitated.
Then finally brought it forward.
It wasn’t one thing.
It was a small stack—slightly uneven, edges bent in places—of little sketch pages. Some torn from a notebook, some clearly just whatever paper she could find. They were clipped together with one of those tiny black binder clips.
You blinked. “Ellie…”
“Yeah,” she said quickly, already bracing. “Before you say anything—none of them are, like, amazing. Some are kind of shit. But that’s not the point, so—just—look.”
You took them carefully, like they might fall apart.
The first one was simple.
A quick sketch—loose lines, a little messy—but unmistakably you. Sitting cross-legged on her couch, wearing one of her hoodies that was way too big, sleeves covering your hands.
Underneath, in her handwriting:
you steal my clothes and then act like it’s your constitutional right
Your lips parted slightly.
You flipped to the next.
You again—head tipped back, laughing, eyes squeezed shut. It wasn’t perfect, but she’d caught it. The feeling of it.
you laugh like you mean it, it’s my favorite sound in the entire world.
Something in your chest pulled tight.
Another page.
You standing at the sink, brushing your teeth, hair a mess, clearly mid-complaint about something.
you talk even when your mouth is full of toothpaste. it’s disgusting. don’t stop.
You let out a quiet, breathy laugh, already blinking a little harder.
“Keep going,” Ellie said softly, shifting her weight like she didn’t know where to put herself.
You did.
A sketch of your hand in hers.
the first time you held my hand, i pretended it didn’t make me nervous. it did.
A small, more detailed one—your face, softer this time. Calm. Looking at something off-page.
you look at things like they matter. it makes everything feel bigger. better.
By the time you reached the last page, your fingers had slowed.
This one was different.
It wasn’t just you.
It was both of you—sitting on the couch, drawn from across the room like she’d captured it from memory. You leaning into her. Her head tilted toward yours.
Messy lines. Imperfect proportions.
But it felt… real.
Underneath, written a little more carefully than the others:
i don’t know how to do things the right way
but i know how to love you
and i think i’m doing that okay
Your vision blurred before you could stop it.
You didn’t even realize you’d gone quiet until Ellie spoke again, voice smaller now. “You can say something, you know. Or not. Silence is—cool too. I can work with silence.”
You looked up.
She was standing there like she was trying to play it off, but her hands were fidgeting at her sides, fingers tapping against her jeans, like she was bracing for something to go wrong.
You didn’t say anything.
You just stepped forward—
and pulled her into you.
She made a small, surprised sound as she stumbled into your arms, then immediately wrapped hers around you, holding on tight.
“Whoa—okay,” she breathed, a little shaky. “That’s—good, right? I’m gonna assume that’s good—”
“Ellie,” you said, voice muffled against her shoulder, “this is… this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever made me.”
She went very still.
“…yeah?” she asked, softer now.
“Yeah.”
Your hands gripped the back of her flannel, like you needed to anchor yourself there. “You drew all of these?”
“I did,” she mumbles, a little embarrassed now. “Over time. Not like, all at once. I just—whenever you did something that made my brain go stupid, I’d draw it so I wouldn’t forget.”
You pulled back just enough to look at her, your hands sliding up to her face, thumbs brushing over her cheeks.
“You don’t forget anything about me, do you?”
She huffed a quiet laugh. “No. It’s actually a problem.”
You smiled, eyes still soft. “It’s not.”
Something in her expression eased at that, like a knot loosening.
“…it’s definitely not,” she murmured.
You leaned in and kissed her for a second time—slow, warm, a little deeper this time.
She melted into it instantly, hands tightening at your waist, pulling you closer like she needed you there. Like she always did.
When you broke apart, her forehead rested against yours again, breath a little uneven.
“…so,” she said after a second, a faint grin creeping back in, “I think I nailed that.”
You laughed softly. “Yeah. You really did.”
“Good,” she said, clearly relieved. Then quieter, more serious—“I meant it, by the way. What I wrote.”
“I know.”
“All of it.”
“I know, Ellie.”
She searched your face for a second, like she needed to be sure.
Then she smiled.
Not teasing. Not cocky.
Just soft.
Her hand slipped back into yours, fingers threading together easily now, like there was no hesitation left anywhere.
“Stay a little longer?” she asked.
You squeezed her hand, stepping closer again, letting your forehead rest against hers.
“Always.”
And this time, when the music carried on and the candles burned a little lower, you didn’t just stand ther
you stayed wrapped up in her, in the warmth, in the quiet kind of love she built piece by piece, messy and real and entirely hers.
a/n: since you guys liked my other Ellie fic so much here’s another one! omg I love awkward!ellie she’s so adorbs, more coming soon gays;)
Pairing: Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader
Word Count: ~ 1,8k
Modern College AU
Explicit sexual content (18+), NSFW MDNI!
Warnings: mutual oral sex, 69 position, weed use, shotgunning, intoxicated sex (enthusiastic and consensual, but characters are high), fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, body worship, praise kink vibes, soft dom/sub energy, light teasing, bratty behavior, sweaty summer vibes, lazy horny energy
A/N: soooo, after a shorter break, i'm back! i'm so sorry for having y'all wait, but med school is no joke, and is kicking my ass a bit. anyway, i got a request for a 69 Ellie smut and was like, why not? so here it is. hope you like it. also, i never proofread, deal with it. so if you find any mistakes, just ignore them, or if they really bug you, let me know <3
The air in the apartment was already thick with heat, clinging to the skin like a second layer. A low sunset bled through the blinds, casting horizontal shadows over the messy couch and cluttered coffee table. Outside, the cicadas screamed in the summer dusk. Inside, the room hummed with something else entirely.
You sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Ellie, a joint balanced between your fingers. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, pink at the edges, and glittering a little in the dim light. Her body slouched back on the couch, legs spread lazily, one arm slung over the backrest. She looked like sin. All casual in that "who ate all the pussy?" T-shirt you got her, her tattoo curling around her veined forearm, her thumb lazily stroking your knee. The whole apartment smelled like weed and her sandalwood soap.
“You’re really fucking good at rolling,” you said, slow and syrupy. Your lips tingled from the last pull. “Like, dangerously good. Criminally good.”
Ellie laughed, husky and slow, her mouth pulling into a smug little smirk. “Well, y’know. Practice.”
“You sell weed, Ellie. You live in practice.”
She winked at you, took the joint from your hand, and inhaled. The red tip glowed bright in the dusky room, and her cheeks hollowed a little as she drew. When she pulled it away, she held the smoke in her mouth, tilting her chin at you.
You blinked. “Wait...”
She leaned forward, gripping your jaw, fingers cool against your flushed skin. Your lips parted, barely a breath escaping before she sealed her mouth over yours and exhaled the warm vapour into your mouth.
The smoke burned hot between you, swirling into your lungs and up into your skull, until the room melted around the edges and all you could feel was her. The scrape of her calloused fingers under your jaw. The slow brush of her tongue. The deep sound of her groan when you whimpered into her mouth.
You were already so high. The kind of high where you felt loose in your limbs, your head floating just above your body, everything heavy and slow and warm. And now she was kissing you, and you were definitely gonna die.
Ellie pulled back, licking her lips, looking at you like she knew. Her pupils were huge, dark and endless. You swore you could fall into them.
“I’m so fucking horny,” you blurted and slumped on her couch.
Ellie blinked, and then cracked up, low and loud, a real laugh that made her nose scrunch. “Jesus. Not even gonna try to be subtle about it, huh?”
You flopped onto your back with a dramatic sigh, hand over your face. “I can’t. Everything is hot. You’re hot. My knees are hot. I think even your couch is trying to fuck me.”
Ellie leaned over you, grinning like a wolf. Her hair was tucked behind one ear, loose strands falling into her freckled face. “Babe. You’re baked.”
“Exactly. Baked. Like your edibles. Like the ones you don’t share with anyone but me.”
Her brow quirked. “You tryna flirt or guilt-trip me right now?”
You shrugged. “Both?”
Ellie pressed one hand to the cushion beside your head and hovered over you, just enough to make your breath catch. Her other hand trailed over your side, sneaking under the hem of your tank top, dragging lightly up your bare waist.
Her touch was feather-light, teasing, calloused fingers dancing over your ribs until you squirmed. “You always get like this when you’re high.”
“I like you,” you said. “A lot. Even more when I’m floating.”
“I know,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss your jaw, your cheek, your neck. “You’re such a needy little thing when you’re stoned.”
You were already gasping, toes curling. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not,” she murmured, her breath hot against your skin. “It’s fucking cute.”
Her hand slipped lower, grazing your thigh, then curling under to squeeze the soft underside. You whined, arching into her, lips searching for hers.
She kissed you like she had all the time in the world. Slow and deep, like she wanted to taste how high you were. Your hips rolled up against her on instinct, and her body sank heavier into yours.
You tugged at her shirt, breathless. “Take this off.”
She obeyed, peeling it off over her head and flinging it somewhere behind her. Her torso was all lean muscle and tattoos, the defined dip of her waist leading your eyes downward. You bit your lip.
Ellie smirked. “Staring?”
“You’re art,” you said. “Like… illegal levels of art. Like ‘you should model for oil paintings in the 1600s’ kinda art.”
She snorted. “You’re so fucking gone.”
“I want you,” you whispered. “So bad, El.”
And maybe that broke something in her restraint.
She kissed you again, but this time it was messy. Desperate. Tongue and teeth and breathy moans tangled in your throat. Her fingers were quick, tugging your shorts down and sliding her hand over your panties in between your legs.
“Fuck, babe. You’re soaked,” she said as she rubbed her index finger into the fabric of your drenched knickers, tickling your clit in the process.
You whimpered. “You did just make out with me while shotgunning weed into my lungs, Ellie. What did you expect?”
Her eyes sparkled as her fingers pulled the pink lace to the side and dug into your slick folds, slow and teasing. “I love when you get mouthy.”
“You love everything I do.”
Ellie grinned, cocky as ever. “That’s true.”
Her fingers pushed in deep, curling in just the right way, dragging a broken sound from your chest. Your hands gripped her shoulders, nails digging into skin as your hips rocked into her touch.
You couldn’t stop moaning. The weed made everything feel more intense, your nerves hyperaware of every inch she touched. Her mouth moved to your chest, sucking bruises into your skin as her fingers kept working you open.
You were rambling now, words tumbling out between gasps. “Fuck—I love your hands. Love your mouth. Love you. You feel so fucking good, Ellie, I’m gonna—”
“Yeah? You gonna come already?”
You nodded frantically, your back arching. “Please.”
Ellie ducked her head, her breath hot against your ear. “Let go for me, baby. I’ve got you.”
And that was it.
You came with a high, shattered cry, clinging to her like she was your last tether to earth. The waves crashed through you, dragging your brain under, making your limbs shake. Ellie held you through it, slowing her fingers, kissing the tears off your cheeks.
When you finally came down, boneless and glowing, she smirked down at you.
“You’re such a mess when you’re high.”
You took the joint, still breathless, and grinned. It burned down between your fingers, nearly finished, the smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling like the ghost of everything you’d just felt. You were flushed and half-naked, sticky with sweat and still trembling.
She was watching you — sprawled beside you on the couch, her hair damp at the edges, chest rising and falling slowly. Her lips glossy from kissing you breathless.
Your gaze dropped to her stomach, to the faint line of muscle down the center, the flush to her freckled skin, the waistband of her boxers sitting low on her hips. You bit your lip. Still high and aching.
Ellie caught the look. “Don’t say it.”
You smirked. “Say what?”
“Whatever you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking…” you trailed your fingers down her torso, slowly, teasingly. “That I want your mouth on me again.”
Her eyes darkened, lashes fluttering. “You just came.”
“And I want to return the favor,” you purred, crawling over her, straddling her waist. “Unless you’re too high to handle it.”
Ellie scoffed, but her hands settled firmly on your hips, grounding herself. “I can handle anything, babe.”
You leaned down, lips brushing hers. “Then prove it.”
She kissed you hard, sitting up just enough to flip you beneath her — the room spun deliciously as you gasped, landing on your back again with her above you, grinning like she’d just won something.
“I’ve got a better idea,” she muttered against your neck, already kissing lower, lower, dragging your underwear down as she went. “You want my mouth? You’re getting it.”
You barely had time to breathe before she shifted, moving down your body, but then her hand caught yours and tugged — pulling you with her, guiding you in a slow, twisting motion until you were both on your sides, facing opposite directions.
It hit you what she meant.
Your breath hitched. “Are you serious?”
She looked over her shoulder at you, her grin wicked. “Unless you’re too high to multitask.”
You laughed, breathless, and ducked your head down between her thighs.
It was messy. Uncoordinated at first. But when your mouth found echoing others' cunts, the room dissolved.
You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Everything was heat and wetness and moaning against skin. Her thighs around your ears. Your tongue dragged over her glossy folds slowly, then faster, as she trembled. The way her mouth was relentless, licking you open like she was starving. The rhythm of it — the building pressure — like a slow, shared fire rising up in both of you.
You gripped her hip hard as you spat into her and sucked her clit in with your lips, fingers sinking into her as you whined against her. She growled into your skin in return. She dove her tongue as deep as she could, and then twisted it in ways that made you jerk up against her face. Your clit bumped into her nose and it sent a deep shock straight into your belly. Her thighs tightened, hips rocked into your mouth as she ground into you.
You came together — or close enough. It was messy and gasping and hot, both of you shaking and whimpering, bodies tangled, thighs slick, too high to tell whose moan belonged to who. She pulled you up, so she had you resting on her chest.
After, you stayed like that — half-laughing, half-breathless, curled up on the blanket with limbs tangled and skin flushed.
Ellie’s voice was hoarse. “You good, baby?.”
You groaned into her shoulder. “Never been better. You loved it.”
“…Yeah,” she admitted. “I really did.”
You grinned. “Told you the couch wanted to fuck me.”
Ellie snorted into your hair and pulled you closer. “Shut up.”
“please, pleasepleasepleaseplease-“ ellie whined desperately against the soft skin of your thigh, each plea that left her lips spoken like her own personal prayer.
her lips kissed along the already spit coated skin, shiny and swollen, as she gazed up at you pleadingly, rendering you nearly unable to think.
“ellie, we can’t.” you said shakily, voice so uncertain it was basically asking to be proven wrong. “we have work tomorrow and you’ve literally already made me come, like, thrice-“
“just one more, please? babe, please, i promiseeee.”
“ellie-“
“please, please. i promise i’ll make you feel so good.”
the view of ellie was so perfect you wished you could take a picture, engrave it in your eyelids, save it somehow and tuck it away in some corner of your brain to keep forever.
there she was; brows knit and swollen lipped, eyes gazing up at you with inexplicable need as she clung to your thigh like it was her only lifeline.
you’d have to be some sort of monster to say no.
a small whisper of “just one more.” falling from your lips was all the invitation she needed before she was back on you, lapping you up like a woman starved.
you threw your head back at the sudden contact, letting her groan into your cunt, “mmh-ffuckkk,”
your hands found purchase in her hair as your fingers wove themselves through those short, auburn locks, already thoroughly mused from your prior ministrations.
“god—fuck, ellie.” is all you can get out before your brain shuts down. suddenly all you can focus on, all that matters, is the feeling of ellie’s tongue fucking you stupid.
“goddamn,” she cursed into you, voice muffled by your cunt, never once pulling away to speak, to breathe. “why d’you always taste so fucking good?”
she emphasized the last two words with two deep thrusts into you, somehow leaving you even more wrecked than you were just a moment ago.
sure, the view from up there was great, no doubt about it. but the view from down here ellie was? fucking unrivaled.
this was one of the best parts of eating you out—in her humble opinion; watching the way you tossed your head back, your hand on her head grasping desperately at something—anything—to cling onto while you lost yourself entirely.
and your face? god, your face. so obviously lost in pleasure, in her.
fuck if she didn’t feel the exact same way.
this? right here? this was exactly where she wanted to be.
the coil in your stomach was beyond beginning to tighten when you felt ellie’s grip on your thigh do the same. her pace was relentless as you babbled out a warning. “el-els-?”
“mmh, i know, baby, i know.” she hummed into you, little vibrations only serving to push you further to the edge. “hey, hey, look at me? yeah, mhm.”
you looked like you were barely there as you peered down at her, eyes glassy from the constant waves of pleasure ramming into you.
she held your gaze as she mumbled into your cunt.
“be a good girl and come for me, yeah?”
a pathetic little nod is all you can manage before you lose yourself completely.
your eyes rolled back, back arching as you moaned into the air, uncontrolled and unrestricted, vision going white as you reached your peak.
ellie just groaned into your pussy, arms working overtime to hold your legs open, as she fucked you through your high.
whispering sweet little “mm, that’s it, baby”s and muddled strings of “thankyouthankyouthankyou-“s you’re just too fucked out to hear.
she continues despite, and only stops when you mange to peel her off, letting one shaky hand comb through her tousled hair, gently coaxing her out of her daze.
you’re left panting and breathless as you lean back on your sheets, sweet and sensitive from your now waning orgasm, as ellie watched from below.
she rests her head against your thigh once more, eyes never once leaving you, as she watched the steady rise and fall of your chest, patiently waiting for your breathing to even out.
you’re already shifting off the blankets to tuck yourself underneath when you realize her grip on your leg hasn’t loosened.
not even a little bit.
“ellie, let go.” you whine out the order.
to your horror, and unbelievable delight, she bit her lip and looked right up at you, hunger in her eyes restored as the familiar poles left her lips. “just one more?”
❤︎loser!ellie, who is the type of person to send “just tell me u hate me and want me to die” type of texts when you tease her about ANYTHING….shes supa dramatic
❤︎loser!ellie, who definitely beats up your stuffed animals when you’re not paying attention to her. there’s literally no reason for her to do it either..just to annoy you
❤︎loser!ellie, who deadass gets her shirts from the boys kids isle..she just gets them in a bigger size. she sleeps in a minecraft t-shirt she got from walmart in that isle two years ago.
❤︎loser!ellie, who makes stop motion animation videos of her spider-man figurines. and she’s really good at it too, so you can’t say anything about it
❤︎loser!ellie, who sleeps with a nightlight. she’s not even afraid of the dark mind you, she just prefers it
❤︎loser!ellie, who has a sketchbook dedicated for drawing you. like, only you. there’s not a single thing in that sketchbook that isn’t related to you in any way
❤︎loser!ellie, who drives around in joel’s old car with coffee stains in the passenger seat. she thinks she’s the coolest person ever, windows down, radio blasting some random ass song that only she likes.
❤︎loser!ellie, who legitimately steals your underwear. like actually. she’s a perv deep down
❤︎loser!ellie, who sleeps with socks on.
❤︎loser!ellie, who is the most useless person to go grocery shopping with. she INSISTS on riding the cart while walking out to the parking lot, and stops to look at the toys hung up in each isle.
❤︎loser!ellie, who get sooo shy when you show her affection. cuddle up to her, kiss her cheek? her face is red, and she can’t speak.
❤︎loser!ellie, who needs glasses, but refuses to wear them because she claims they “take away her swag.” like ok.
❤︎loser!ellie, who gets so awkward when you ask her to carry your bag. shifting her weight between feet, slightly swinging the purse, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
❤︎loser!ellie, who literally like…quadruple texts. that girl cannot write down a single thought in one bubble.
❤︎loser!ellie, who slaps your ass literally every single chance she gets. but she literally doesn’t know how to act after..she’ll rub her hands together and give a really small, shy chuckle. but she still does it anyways, like it’s mandatory.
❤︎loser!ellie, who is the biggest rage quit known to man when she plays video games…..valorant, specifically.
❤︎loser!ellie, who deadass calls you fake and toxic when you forget to send her a goodnight next.
❤︎loser!ellie, whos hidden folder in her photos is just pictures of your boobs. only your boobs. when you peered over her shoulder while watching a movie and saw her scrolling through it she deadass cried out of embarrassment.
❤︎loser!ellie, who flexes her guitar skills every time you’re over. playing the hardest songs she knows, stealing very obvious glances at you. she silently curses herself out every time she messes up.
Hhaiii my reqs r open :pppp pls send something in, it’s greatly appreciated! (vi, sevika, ellie williams, abby anderson)
.ᐟ.ᐟ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ~ months of work during which you barely had time for one another finally lead you to a night where you and ellie can catch up with the time lost.
.ᐟ.ᐟ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ~ 2.4k
.ᐟ.ᐟ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ~ ellie williams x female reader. established relationship, alcohol, they're both tipsy but very much consensual, mentions of alcohol, clubbing, swearing, reader's described as wearing makeup, pet names (baby), SMUT, oral sex (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), squirting, top!ellie, sub!reader, afab!reader. NOT PROOFREAD AND WRITTEN A LONG TIME AGO. cis men and minors dni.
likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated <3
God knows how long it’s been since the last time you and Ellie had finally managed to carve yourselves the time for one night alone, for a few hours during which responsibilities don’t matter, where nobody has to worry about waking up early even when it’s not a work day and all that’s important is just having one all for the other.
Someone must have listened to your prayers, though, because after interminable weeks of sleepless nights spent staring at your laptop until you vaguely forgot the shape of your bed and during which Ellie seemed out of it just as much as you were by coming home from work somehow always later than the night before, the two of you found yourselves with a single night where nobody had to do absolutely anything.
The decision came easily, just as blinking or breathing air could be: the club where you met years ago, the amount of alcohol that could knock someone twice as tall as the two of you combined, and nothing else but her hands on your hips, your arms around her neck and the beat of a song you barely know as the only witness of the way you can't keep away from each other.
So you got ready in the nicest outfit you have—pieces of clothing that had been shoved so deep inside your dresser that you forgot they even existed—drew your eyeliner sharp, glossed your lips and pretended not to notice how your girlfriend’s eyes were raking down every single movement you were making during the meticulous dance that’s getting ready when it comes to you.
If you were honest with yourself, you were doing everything possible to keep them on your body: slowly bending over the sink to adjust your lipliner with the pretense of needing to be as close as possible to actually see what you were doing; standing in front of the full length mirror in your shared bedroom in just a bra and a pair of panties that—were it for Ellie—you probably wouldn’t be even wearing, feigning indecisiveness while adjusting different clothes over your frame and turning your head to ask for her opinion as if you didn’t know already what would’ve made her want to take them off faster.
And Ellie—during all of that, since she was ready way before you after throwing on a pair of baggy jeans and a black tank top paired with the silver chain you love hooking your fingers around to pull her closer—stayed as calm as she possibly could, sitting on the edge of your bed with her legs spread, elbows carefully balanced on top of her knees as she kept rubbing her palm across her mouth as if that could possibly be enough for her to pretend that she didn’t want to cancel all the plans you had made just to bend you over the nearest possible surface.
But against even your most accurate predictions, she behaved. She stayed sat, gave you her opinion when you asked for it with a smug smile on your lips and patiently waited for you to finish getting ready, to lace her fingers with yours as you walked down your apartment and into the Uber towards the club, to dance with you until your feet got exhausted, to drink more than you both have ever done during summer break in college before you even met and until you were both drunk enough to not care about anything else but the two of you but sober enough to still get back home on your feet and get inside without failing to slide the key into the lock at the first try.
The thing is, during the whole way back, Ellie’s hands have not stopped touching you once, nor her lips have moved more than an inch away from yours. Not even inside the cab driving you home, when she literally dragged you on her lap like the guy on the front seat didn’t have to turn the volume of the music up to cover her whimpers at the feeling of your tits within her hands.
Clothes fall off before the front door is barely closed, leaving you in just your bra and panties all over again while the loud bass of the music is still ringing inside your ears. Your feet are sore in places you didn’t even know could hurt and your lips don’t have the time to rest before Ellie’s mouth is already on yours again, walking you backwards, her teeth dragging across your bottom lip enough to make you moan into her mouth, hands through her hair, pulling it lightly as her tongue moves against yours in wet, messy strokes.
There’s nothing delicate about it, just months of being too exhausted to do anything but fall asleep with her head on your chest and one leg over your hips that are finally colliding into this one single moment where there’s only one thought running in both your heads: the need for one another.
“Need you,” she manages, breathing ragged, green eyes barely open while she looks at you, socks whispering against the floor while she keeps walking aimlessly across your living room until your back lands against the cold glass of the balcony window. “Now, please, baby.”
Despite the clear feeling of your panties being damp and the fact that your heart is racing so fast it’s almost impossible she’s not feeling it as well, it doesn’t really stop you from tilting your head at her as if you haven’t thought about this exact moment since you decided tonight was meant to be spent outside the house. “Yeah?” You coo. “How much, Els?”
“A lot,” she answers fast while her hands knead the meat of your hips. “There, I’ve said it. Happy? Can we please fuck now?”
She leans closer again, head tilted, eyes barely closed and fixed on your lips, but the moment she gets close enough that you can feel the warmth of her mouth almost pressing once more against yours, you pull back with a low chuckle.
“I dunno,” you tease, fingers playing with the chain still dangling over her collarbones. “You didn't sound very convincing.”
For a second, Ellie stops moving entirely. Her hands stay where they are, her body still pressed firmly against yours, but she pulls back slowly, staring at you like you’ve just told her you secretly voted Republican in the past elections. But you don’t give her time to react.
“You sure it’s not just talk?”
Apparently, that’s enough for the flip to switch.
Ellie’s eyes darken in a heartbeat, that lazy, drunk smile twisting into something sharper, hungrier, and before you can even tease her again she’s grabbing your wrists and pinning them over your head in a way that makes you curse softly under your breath, until there’s little to no space left between the two of you, if that’s even possible. Her breath is ghosting your mouth, her body molding against yours in a way you’re pretty sure you’ll be remembering even tomorrow when you’ll wake up.
“Oh, you wanna play?” She asks, voice low, unhurried now, like she’s taking the bait. “Fine. Let’s play, then.”
Eventually, she lets go of your wrists, letting them fall so your hands come to rest on her shoulders, but only so both her own can skim down your sides, mapping every inch of your body as if she doesn’t already know its shape by heart, as if what makes you whimper, shake and shiver is something that by now she doesn't do with muscle memory alone.
Before you know it, she’s on her knees and the sight looking up at you is enough to make your stomach flip. Because right now, in this moment, Ellie looks like she can’t stand another second without her mouth on you: green eyes half-lidded, drunk in want and need more than anything she’s sipped tonight, auburn hair messy with some strands falling across her forehead, lips parted as her breathing ghosts against your thigh while she glances at you like you’re the only thing that matters in this moment.
“You’re so hot,” you manage, getting your voice unstuck from somewhere deep in your throat.
She leans in more, slow and deliberately. “Am I now?” She whispers. But before you can even nod, she’s catching the elastic of your soaked panties between her teeth, the drag torturously slow as she tugs them down your legs, eyes never leaving yours while the fabric catches on your thighs before she finally pulls them all the way off.
The cool air hits your slick skin, making your shiver, biting your lower lip.
“Fuck, look at you,” she mumbles before pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another higher up, another and another until she’s close… but not enough. “All this for me and you’re still acting like you’re not dripping.”
“Ellie,” you encourage, hips pushing forward, but she pulls back just enough, a wicked little grin flashing up as her thumbs stroke teasing circles on your skin.
“Nuh-uh,” she teases. “You wanted to know how bad I need you so that's what I'm doing.”
The next second, her tongue is dragging slow and flat through your folds, tasting every inch of how soaked you are with a moan spilling free from your lips and a hum from hers. She does it again, slower, savoring it, then circles your clit with the tip of her tongue until you’re pulling her hair enough to keep her close, before pulling away completely, lips shiny and eyes locked on yours.
“Beg for it.”
The words hang there between you, leaving you torn between the need to have her closer and the one that is telling you to flip the table over again, keep this slow tango of power going and have the upperhand again. But between the way she’s looking at you—just as wrecked, just as desperate despite the words that just got past her mouth—something inside you simply… gives in.
“Please,” you breathe, hearing your own voice crack. “Fuck me, Ellie, pl—.”
She doesn’t let you finish the sentence.
The second the plea leaves your lips her mouth is on you, tongue dragging long and filthy through your folds like she’s been waiting years for this exact taste. A broken moan rips out of her throat, vibrating straight into your clit as her eyes flutter close, tongue swirling tight and fast around it while one of her hands slides up your thigh to hold you open wider, thumb stroking the crease where your leg meets your body like she can’t stop touching every inch of you.
You cry out, head tipping back against the window with a dull thud, one hand fisting tighter in her hair while the other scrambles for something to hold onto, nails scraping the glass. There’s no more teasing, just worship in every shape and sound possible: from the ones that she’s drawing out of you and from hers just from finally having you open for her for the first time in what felt like months, as if only this is enough to make her lose her mind right along with you.
She hasn’t stopped watching you for a single second, not as she pulls your closer, one hand gripping the swell of your ass, nose bumping against your mound as she buries herself deep, cataloging into her mind the way your brows are pulled together, the soft crease between them and how your mouth’s falling more and more open with every moan she’s getting out of you.
“Fuck— Ellie— right there, baby, don’t stop,” you gasp, hips rolling against her mouth in desperate little circles.
And Ellie doesn’t stop, just groans again, louder, the sound muffled as she doubles down, tongue flicking faster, two fingers suddenly sliding inside you without warning, curling just right while her lips seal around your clit and suck hard while your knees buckle.
The pressure builds fast, that tight, coiling feeling snapping low in your belly that makes your hips grind messily against her face, thighs shaking so bad that she has to grip you tighter just to keep you upright against the cold glass while the only thing you can hear is the sound of your broken voice that’s barely covering the mess between your legs.
“Ellie— fuck, baby,” you choke out as your muscles start locking up tight around her fingers.. “I’m gonna— I’m so close—”
It all crashes over you not one moment later than that, ripping a loud, broken cry from your throat as you clench her fingers tightly, thighs squeezing around her head while wave after wave rolls through your body until you’re shaking, gasping, back arching hard against the window as slick warmth floods her mouth, but she just keeps going, licking and sucking and moaning like she’s trying to drink every last drop of you.
Only when your legs finally give out and you’re sliding down the glass with Ellie still buried between your thighs, catching you, she pulls her fingers out slowly, pressing one last soft kiss to your inner thigh before crawling up your body on shaky knees, lips shiny and swollen, chin glistening with you.
Her mouth finds yours immediately, deep and messy and tasting like you as she presses you gently back against the glass. “Love you so fucking much,” she mumbles against your lips.
You laugh breathlessly, arms wrapping around her neck, fingers playing with the sweaty strands at the nape of her neck. “I love you more,” you whisper, nipping at her bottom lip with a tired smile. “Now let’s go to bed so I can return the favor.”
And in those last simple words, you both know you're going to have a long night ahead of you. After all, you’ve got a lot of catching up to do.
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synopsis: nerdy ellie is hopeless in love with the sweetest popular girl of her school, and being the nerd she is, she gets obsessed with her fixation; you. she starts texting you "hi" and "bye" every day, and refuses to tell you she's her
