forest_nymph

you didn’t think moving would be this lonely.

back home, everything had rhythm; one main road, one grocery store, the same faces you’d known since childhood.

but because of that? you were suffocating.

because where you were from, it felt like everybody already knew who you were supposed to be— and there wasn’t much room to become anything else.

so you traded pine trees and quiet nights, for the concrete jungle. traffic. sirens and light pollution bleeding into night skies.

new york is louder than you had imagined, bigger too. yet somehow, despite all the space; your apartment is smaller than anywhere you’ve ever lived. it’s 4 flights up, no working elevator— not since you’ve lived here. there’s mismatched flooring, and peeling paint, radiators hiss like they’re mad at the building— but you think all the quirks add character.

at least that’s what you tell yourself.

you’ve only been here 3 days, there’s still boxes all over your apartment— some half empty, others untouched; the clutter starting to become slightly overwhelming. at this point, you walk inside and the boxes feel like they’re attacking you.

so… you made a deal with yourself: finish the bedroom; all the boxes empty, clothes hung up and organized.

just one room.

as motivation, you roll up the rest of the weed you brought from home and set it aside like a promise— once the bedroom is finished… you’ll smoke.

but… it’s also the last of the weed.

fuck.

3 days in and something you didn’t happen to take into consideration before moving to a big city: how brutal the dispensaries are.

you’d known things would be more expensive here. it’s not like you were that naive; rent, groceries, coffee— whatever. all of that made sense.

but dispensaries? that felt personal.

back home, weed was simple. affordable. something you could pick up without having to mentally prepare yourself to check your bank account afterwards. here? everything is a fucking luxury item— glass jars, minimalist labels, budtenders that act like they’re selling fine diamonds.

you’d shopped around online, been into a few places; but spending double, maybe triple the amount of money on half the amount of product? hard no from you.

you didn’t wanna have to quit, but in this economy? you’re starting to think it may be your only option.

you hang the last hanger, and shove the last empty box out of the way with your foot; chest falling with a tired sigh. close enough to done. good enough for tonight.

you grab the joint, lighter already sparking in your hand. you make your way over to the window, not patient enough to wait until you’re on the fire escape to light it. you take a hefty drag as you slip out, but immediately freeze.

someone’s already out here.

she’s leaning against the railing like she belongs there, joint nearly finished between her fingers. smoke curls lazily around her face, sharp features catching in the dim light. messy red hair, worn band tee, relaxed stance.

she is breathtakingly hot— you can’t help but stare.

then she looks up and catches you.

instead of calling you out, she just raises a brow, mouth twitching like she’s amused.

“hey… didn’t mean to steal your smoke spot.”

“oh— no! it’s fine— i mean— i don’t— i can go back inside if—“

she laughs, it’s low and warm. “relax, i’m kidding. you’re good.”

you nod shyly, suddenly hyper aware of your posture and the way you’re holding the joint like you might drop it. you take another hit, eyes flickering anywhere but her.

she watches you for a second, clearly entertained. “new?”

“yeah, i just moved in.”

she hums, “makes sense. i’m ellie.”

“y/n.” she smiles like she’s finds it endearing.

she nods toward your joint, “you buy around here?”

you snort softly, “god no. i haven’t yet.”

“oh? why not?”

“because dispensaries out here are scalpers.” you shake your head, “i took one at the prices and immediately reconsidered all my life choices.”

ellie laughs full and genuine, taking a final hit of her joint before flicking onto the street below. “where’re you from?”

“small town in michigan. way smaller than this.”

she studies you curiously for a moment before it seems to click, “thought so.”

you glance at her, “how could you tell?”

she smiles fondly, “you’ve got this look. like everything’s a little too loud.”

“it’s that obvious huh?”

“it is… but it’s cute.”

your face heats instantly, you take another long hit; trying to force your heart rate to slow down. ellie continues.

“well… since you’re new to the building… i can give you a ‘welcome to the city’ discount.”

you blink, throughly confused. “what?”

she tilts her head, grin widening. “i sell.”

“you sell?” you repeat her words, suddenly feeling a little stupid.

she nods like it’s nothing. “yeah. and i’m not a scalper.”

you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, “well, that’s… awfully convenient.”

“i’m usually stocked up, so just come tap on my window when you’re running low.”

you nod, looking down at the half smoked joint in your hand, your buzz finally setting in. your grip on the railing loosens, thoughts coming easier than a moment ago.

ellie notices the shift. you’re even quieter, moving a little slower, looking down at the street like it’s more interesting now than it was a few seconds ago.

“you okay?”

“yeah… just tired i think.”

she hums, clearly unconvinced but doesn’t say it out loud.

you become painfully aware of yourself again— how close she is, how high you are, how this is your first interaction with your new neighbor and you’d really like to make a normal impression.

you straighten slightly and clear your throat. “so uh— have you lived here awhile?”

“some years, long enough to know which buildings have the best fire escapes.”

that earns a smile from you, “good to know.”

she tracks your hand as you bring the joint to your mouth and take another hit, “michigan weed?”

“yeah, it felt like i’ve been rationing it up until this point.”

ellie’s eyes widen a little, “oh— shit— do you need a bag now?”

you toss your hands up, giggling softly, “only if you’re available.”

she motions her head towards her open window, “i’ve got a scale inside if you wanna grab some?”

your heart skips, but you nod, “that’d be great actually.”

her smile comes easy, “cool. c’mon.”

you put out your joint on the brick and drop it on your windowsill, before sliding through ellie’s window.

her apartment feels drastically different from yours. it’s warmer, more established. a floor lamp glows in the corner, casting a soft light over a couch that looks actually lived on, posters and tapestries line the walls.

there’s records stacked lazily next to a turntable, shoes kicked off by door like they’ve never been organized.

“make yourself comfortable.” ellie moves around her kitchen counter and opens a cabinet. she glances at you over her shoulder— you’re hovering, hands tucked into your hoodie sleeves, awkwardly lingering behind her. “so… what’re you thinking? indica? sativa? a hybrid?”

you answer quickly, “indica.” ellie quirks a brow, “sorry… sativa makes me paranoid.”

ellie nods in understanding, “that’s fair. how much you thinkin’ you want?”

“mhm… maybe a half?”

she doesn’t respond with words, just a bob of her head. you watch as she measures it out carefully, even though her eyes look focused; most of her attention keeps drifting back to you. but even then, her hands move nimbly; unscrewing the lid to a large jar, and dropping buds on the scale. you find yourself fixated on how steady she is; clearly she does this often.

“you been selling for awhile… or?”

she shrugs, “i didn’t come to the city planning to sell,” she slides the weed off the little tray and into a ziplock bag. “but one thing led to another and…” she closes the seal and pushes it across the counter to you. “it’s what pays the bills.”

shit. speaking of paying the bills… you don’t have anything on you.

“fuck— i, uh… don’t have any cash on me…”

ellie doesn’t skip a beat, “you got apple pay?”

“oh— yeah, actually. that works.”

she pulls out her phone, then looks up at you with a small knowing smirk, “i’ll need your number tho.”

your stomach drops, but you keep your voice steady, trying not to sound flustered, “right! of course.”

she hands you her phone, and puts her hands in her pockets, an open text thread already waiting. you type in your number and hand it back; her thumbs tap on the screen before your own phone buzzes in your pocket a second later.

a payment request.

$35 — maybe: ellie williams.

your head snaps up, “only 35?”

she just chuckles as the jars go back in the cabinet, “i said i was giving you a discount. ‘welcome to the city’ and all that. remember?”

your cheeks warm up for the second time this interaction, your legs feeling wobbly. “i didn’t realize you were being serious…”

“i don’t lie.” then after a beat… “especially not to pretty girls.”

you laugh breathlessly, blush traveling all the way up to the tips of your ears. “thank you again. really…”

“anytime. like i said. just tap on my window.”

you tuck the bag into your hoodie pocket and glance back at the fire escape, gesturing to it with your thumb, “i should… get home— it’s late…”

she nods, walking you over to the window, and holding it open as you climb out, “text me what you think of the batch. whenever you try it.”

“oh! uh, sure, yeah— no problem.”

she leaves the window open behind you, but retreats back into her apartment. you take a deep breath when you shut yours, resting your forehead against the cold glass— heart is still beating a little too fast.

the half of a joint still sits on the windowsill— long forgotten.

her voice, her hands, her mannerisms; they’re stuck in your head. a familiar feeling blooms in your abdomen.

it’s just the weed.

probably.

the weeks skip by quietly at first.

texts about buying a bag every few days:

you around?

same stuff?

please?

you notice she never stopped giving you a ‘discount’.

your paths cross on the fire escape more than you expected.

you’ve started to recognize the sound of ellie’s opening window and her steps; the soft scrape of metal, the pause before her lighter sparks.

you’ve never joined her— not that she hasn’t asked.

if she saw you inside, she’d tap on the glass, ask if you had time… but you always had a reason.

too tired. already high. maybe next time.

ellie never presses, just lifts her joint in acknowledgment and looks back out at the city.

then you start running into her at other places.

the coffee shop on the corner— early mornings when you’re still half asleep, curled around a paper cup hoping the caffeine will save you. ellie’s already there, leaning against the counter with a latte, pretending like she didn’t notice you the second you walked in.

the laundromat across the street— she walked in with an overflowing basket and you were folding clean laundry at a machine. she dropped into a chair right next to you, “i didn’t peg you for a midnight laundry kind of person.” you shrugged, “i’m full of surprises.” she smirks, but doesn’t pry.

the bar two blocks over— dim, loud, crowded. you spot ellie from across the room; hair undoubtedly her, familiar silhouette. you recognize her instantly. when she turns and sees you, she saunters over; a lazy grin and glassy eyes. “either we’ve got the same routine… or this is getting weird.” your laugh comes out softer than you’d hoped, “i was thinking the same thing.”

it feels coincidental— you think.

you’re from the same building, your paths overlap— it makes sense. and yet…

ellie always seems a little unsurprised to see you. like she was half-expecting it. like she enjoys running into you more than she’s letting on.

the texts between you change slowly; less about buying, more about nothing at all.

the weather, a complaint about work, a late night ‘you up?’ message.

ellie never double texts— but it’s not often she’d have to.

you notice how she remembers things; you only smoke indica, you hate the sirens at night, you blush during most conversations with her.

she notices how you hesitate anytime she asks you to smoke. she starts teasing you about it gently, “one of these days… you’re actually gonna take me up on it.”

you laugh it off, heartbeat already picking up, “we’ll see.”

before you know it, ellie is more than your dealer; she’s a constant in your life, a familiar presence that’s always lingering. and everytime you smell that aroma drifting through your window, your body reacts before your brain can catch up— anticipation pooling low and warm.

you swear it doesn’t mean anything.

but your eyes always manage to catch hers.

today was no different.

your date had gone horrendously. not in a dramatic way— there wasn’t any shouting or thrown drinks, just the slow realization that you were playing a roll you didn’t fit into.

laughing when you thought you were supposed to, answering questions that felt rehearsed, smiling even though you felt like you shouldn’t.

by the time you bid your goodbyes, your social battery was out and your chest felt tight. the second you stepped onto the sidewalk, you released a breath you’d been holding in all night.

the walk home was quiet— something you didn’t experience much nowadays.

an occasional taxi driving by or another new yorker silently slipping past, your heels clicking softly against the pavement.

you don’t bother turning on the lights when you get home; just kick off your shoes and walk straight into your bedroom to roll a joint. you drop your keys on your dresser, only flicking on the small lamp by your tray so you can see.

you roll haphazardly; paper sticking to your bottom lip, the filter is loose, it needs a patch in the middle… but it’s smokable.

you don’t feel like changing out of your dress right now, it can wait until after you smoke away the memory of your date tonight. so you just slide on some slippers and grab a throw blanket.

the window glides open and it feels like the city was waiting for you— and apparently someone else too. ellie sits in her window, legs dangling casually, lighter clicking as she tries to spark up against the wind. she looks up when she hears you, expression instantly shifting to something attentive. she does a once over, examining your outfit choice, then your face, “yikes… that bad?”

you huff, leaning back against the railing in front of her, “you have no idea.”

she watches you for a second, then holds up the joint she was attempting to light when you came out here. “you uh…” she pauses and laughs quietly, knowing how this conversation normally ends. “wanna smoke?”

and just like always, you hesitate.

she doesn’t rush you, she doesn’t try to pressure you; she just waits patiently. you look at the joint between her fingers, then up at her face; her eyes are on you, but they hold no expectation.

you finally nod slow, “i— yeah. fuck it.”

her composure cracks— eyebrows shooting up, surprise flashing across her features before it smooths into curiosity. but she keeps her thoughts to herself.

for now.

she’s finally able to shield the wind from the flame and successfully light the joint; she takes a long drag before offering it to you. dropping your monstrosity back through your window, you accept ellie’s carefully. you pause— not really sure what you’re getting yourself into.

but after the first inhale settles in your chest, that nagging feeling dissipates. when you exhale, your shoulders droop and your muscles relax.

you when pass the joint back and your fingers brush hers, it sends a shiver down your spine; you clutch the blanket tighter, convincing yourself it’s a chill in the night air.

ellie pretends not to notice.

she takes a long slow hit, watching you from under her lashes; you try not to squirm under her gaze— but you’re failing miserably.

ellie passes the joint back again and you glance over your shoulder at the ground below, trying to keep your thoughts together.

ellie’s voice interrupts casually, “you okay?”

your head snaps back to her, then you shrug, “yeah… i think so. i just… i don’t know.”

you take another hit and hold it, a buzz beginning to set in. you shake your head, placing the joint back between ellie’s fingers. she waits for you to continue, “i’m so over dating.”

ellie chuckles, flicking ash over the side of the railing next to you, “what made this one so awful?”

you sigh, dropping down to sit on the metal below you, “mhm, where do i start?”

she drops down with you, blowing out a whistle, “that bad?”

you hold out your palm, “okay, i’m being dramatic. it wasn’t like the worst thing in the world, but i felt like i was performing the whole time.”

she nods, “i hate that.”

“right! i should’ve known it wasn’t gonna go well when they made reservations at a wine bar.”

she responds immediately, “mistake number one.”

“that’s what i said. i don’t even like wine.”

her brow lifts, “then what’d you get?”

“whatever our server recommended. which… should’ve been another red flag.”

ellie snorts and passes the joint back to you, “you’re killing me already.”

you barely finish taking your hit before you’re speaking again, “i guess, it wasn’t completely awful? i mean… it was, but… at least they were nice?”

ellie shakes her head, “nice is dangerous. nice gets you stuck on a 2 hour date you can’t escape from.”

“that’s unfortunately true…” you take another puff, blowing it through your nose, “it would’ve been fine if the questions they asked didn’t make me feel like i was in therapy.”

ellie takes the joint back, “jesus… what kind of questions?”

“my career, my 5 year plan… oh! my favorite childhood memory? like? sorry but i don’t wanna unpack my trauma over tapenade and crackers.”

ellie laughs out loud, head dropping forward, “that’s fucking diabolical.”

“isn’t it? i swear they had a notepad under the table and wrote down everything i said.”

she watches you with half-lidded eyes, smoke curling between you. “wow… that sounds exhausting.”

you shift and rest your head back against the railing, “it was. i just kept thinking about leaving, and then i’d feel bad for thinking that!”

“see, there you go with that ‘nice’ shit again.”

you scoff playfully, “i can’t help it! i didn’t wanna be rude!”

“that’s never stopped me.”

“ellie!” you gasp and start giggling; then you can’t seem to stop. it bubbles up out of nowhere, light and unguarded. she smirks at the sound, then bites her lip.

you look at her then— really look. the way the building lights catch her eyes, her lax posture, the way she’s watching you like she’s actually listening.

your stomach flips and you look away too late.

but once again, ellie pretends not to notice.

at some point, the joint has dwindled down to nothing and the conversation has quieted; the two of you just enjoying each other’s presence.

but… unfortunately… your body is betraying you.

ellie sits right across from you, hands tucked into her hoodie pockets; but she seems closer now, and you’re leaning in without realizing it.

you can’t stop yourself, she smells so good— not perfume or cologne, something cozy, something clean and slightly smokey.

then you notice her lips. not intentionally… you’re just high, and they’re right there. they look soft, yet skillful.

ellie suddenly pushes off the brick, sliding over next to you, and dropping the tail over the railing; but her eyes are still locked on yours.

“can i ask you something?”

your heart skips, “it depends…”

she laughs softly, “you don’t really like to smoke with people, do you?”

you pause, so ellie adds, “or is it more like… you don’t like the way you feel when you smoke around other people?”

that hits a little closer to home.

you stare down at the a street, then run your hand through your hair, “it just… amplifies things….”

“yeah?”

you huff out a breath, “yeah, if there’s… something already there, i feel it more. if i’m uncomfortable, i can’t ignore it. it’s… incredibly frustrating.”

you feel a little embarrassed to just have admitted that out loud, but ellie nods slowly, “mhm, so it’s a bad thing?”

you shrug, “it depends.”

ellie’s interest is clearly piqued, she tilts her head and encourages you to continue, “on what?”

you almost lie, but the joint has softened your edges, so the truth slips out, “on who i’m with.”

ellie stills for a second, rubbing the back of her neck and laughing softly. “that makes sense.”

you furrow your brows, “it does?”

she smirks, “yeah, it explains why you’ve always turned me down.”

your breath hitches, mouth opening then closing again— you can’t deny it. the silence the follows is louder than anything you’ve said all night.

she scoots closer, twisting towards you; you can feel her breath on your face, one of her knees bumping yours. “so, when you’re high…” ellie speaks slow and deliberate, like she wants you to feel every single word, “and you start feeling all that stuff you try so hard to push down…” her gaze drops to your lips, lingers, then lifts back up, “do you think about me?”

her question hangs between you, thick and electric, the tension is unbearable. she leans in closer, nose to nose, lips almost brushing, but not quite.

you swallow, releasing a shaky breath, “yes…”

her hand reaches up, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear; your fingers curl into the blanket.

the way her thumb brushes along your skin makes heat flare up your neck. ellie doesn’t move fast, she doesn’t need to; she’s in control by just letting you react.

“mhm, all that wanting… all that thinking…”

you’re losing any and all self-control; thighs clenching together, slick pooling in your panties. “i can’t help it, when i smoke, i get… needy…”

ellie stills again, not because she’s unsure, but because she’s taking it in. the way your voice has softened into something that resembles a whine, the way your body is curling inward, the way you’re leaning into her touch.

“needy…” she parrots.

you nod, eyes glossy— embarrassed, but honest.

“and i— you’re—“ you stumble over words, ellie waits for you to find them, “i knew i wouldn’t be able to control myself around you…”

“why’s that pretty girl?”

god, she’s really gonna make you say it?

“because…” you reach up to her shoulders, twisting the fabric of her hoodie in your fingers, “…you make it hard to think.”

her hands find your waist, firm and grounding; both of you teetering on the edge of something lethal. her forehead falls against yours, “i’ve got you all worked up, huh?”

your lips part, you nod desperately, trying to pull her closer, “ellie—“

her lips brush yours, and you feel like you’re going to explode; so you whimper, your chest rising and falling like you just ran a mile.

“shhhh…” she coos, the sound forcing your walls to flutter, her lips still hovering over yours. “you want me to help you out pretty?”

your fingers tighten on her shoulders, mindlessly grinding your hips against the cool metal underneath you. “please…”

that’s all the invitation she needs.

she closes the sliver of space between you in an instant; the kiss is messy, urgent, sloppy with weeks worth of tension unraveling as your lips collide.

there’s no thinking, just instinct and emotion; you press further into her, nearly in her lap as the blanket pools around your hips. your hands tangle in the hair against her neck. when you tug softly, she groans into your mouth and pulls away; her teeth biting into your lip, gasp rising in your throat.

“god… you’re a mess.” her voice is raspy and thick with desire.

you lean in again— needy.

before you have a chance to get your bearings, ellie stands and hauls you to your feet, pulling you into her chest. she leans down again, whispering against the shell of your ear, she’s just as breathless as you.

“you’re coming with me.”

you barely make it through window, ellie’s hand tight around your wrist as she pulls you inside. it slams shut behind you and suddenly you’re pinned against it. her mouth crashes back into yours like she couldn’t stand the distance.

the kiss is all teeth and muffled sounds you don’t realize you’re making. ellie walks you backward without breaking away.

you’re bumping into furniture, something clatters softly, but neither of you stop until the back of your knees hit the couch.

you’ve been in here before, more than once; but it feels different now.

the cushions dip under your weight, familiar in the way it feels lived on— hoodie thrown over the arm, blanket shoved in the corner, something distinctly ellie. none of it registers for long as one of her knees sinks into the cushion between your legs and her hand lands by your shoulder.

your slippers lay scattered on the rug, your dress hitched up to the top of your thighs. she pulls back to look at you, hair a little wild, lips swollen. for a split second, she just stares— like she’s realizing this is actually happening.

she exhales sharply, “fuck…”

then she leans down, kissing you slower this time, deeper. it’s less frantic, but heavier. the hand that rests on your waist, slides lower, brushing the exposed flesh of your inner thigh. you spread your legs wider, and arch your back slightly— desperate for her touch.

she pinches the sensitive skin there, as a warning; but you moan against her lips and buck your hips up.

ellie pulls away, locking out her elbow to take a full look at you.

“hey…” her voice is quiet, but commanding. you freeze.

her thumb presses into your thigh where she pinched before; you sigh, eyes fluttering shut.

“look at me pretty girl.” you submit instantly; a slow smirk spreads across her face.

“oh baby… you’re already gone.” her tone isn’t mocking, or teasing— it’s almost reverent.

and she’s right… you are gone. you’ve fully melted in her hands, desperate, high— needy.

she straightens her spine, one arm caging you in, the other still between you legs, traveling closer and closer to your center. you grip her hoodie tighter, trying to pull her down further.

“ellie—“

“relax…” her voice cuts you off; firm, yet soft. she sits back on her heels, both hands caressing the tops of your thighs as she rests between them.

“i’m gonna take… really… good care of you...” she trails off when her eyes flicker over your core; your dress bunched up, panties soaked through. ellie lets out a low exhale, eyes darkening; she’s barely touching you and you’re already falling apart underneath her.

your hips are restless, your chest heaving, your mind fuzzy; the only thing you can think about is ellie.

“hey…” she says even firmer this time. “slow down.”

you still, taking a slow breath.

“that’s it…” she grabs both your wrists, one of her hands pinning them above your head on the arm of the couch. “i need you with me. not floating off.”

you nod fast. too fast. ellie tuts softly.

your breath stutters one last time before forcing yourself to be calm, locking your eyes on hers like she asked before.

she nods, giving you a small smile, “good girl.”

you mewl, the nickname causing your walls to clench. you’re aching for her, at this moment you feel like you could cry, you want her to touch you so bad…

then a single digit trails up your dripping slit through your panties. you bite your lip, the feeling is too much, but not enough.

ellie’s grip tightens around your wrists, “jesus, fuck— you’re soaked.”

“mm hmm. all for you els.” you’re panting, head dropping back against the cushion.

but your eyes are still on hers.

and ellie is barely holding herself together.

her lips brush yours, you can feel her uneven breaths, “you’re this worked up because i’m allowing it.” she presses her finger down a little harder.

her voice crackled and low, “don’t rush, don’t chase it…” her words are hardly registering, but you’re filing them away somewhere. “just take what i give you, when i give it.”

your entire body is vibrating.

very nerve tuned into her voice, her hands; the way her eyes track you.

“ellie… please—“ it’s broken, vulnerable in way you’ve never let yourself be. “i’ve never felt like this before— please els?”

she slowly bunches your dress up past your belly button, then hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties.

“here’s the deal. you don’t have to think. i do.” your heart stops for a second, before it kicks into overdrive; her voice grounds you again, “i lead. you listen.” she starts to drag your panties down your thighs, “think you can you do that for me?”

you nod, in an instant; she’s barely done speaking.

ellie shakes her head, pulling your panties off your ankles, and tucking them in her hoodie pocket. “i need words pretty girl.”

“yes—“ deep breath… “yes, i—i can!”

“good. now let me enjoy this.”

her lips are on yours again; dominant, erotic.

her hand grips one of your inner thighs and pushes it up against the back of the couch; opening you up wider. her fingers squeeze the flesh there before slipping down and ghosting over your folds.

her tongue forces its way into your mouth when you gasp. you twist your wrists in ellie’s grasp, desperate to touch her skin. she reinforces her grip, kissing you harder.

finally, her middle finger glides through your slit, and she groans deep in her chest when she feels how wet you’ve gotten. she moves her lips down your jaw and sucks purple marks onto the flesh of your neck.

her finger gathers your slick, slides up slow, and circles your clit.

you arch into her touch, a whimper escaping as she traces lazy shapes; the pressure light but consistent. the ache in your core starts building.

ellie nibbles softly on your skin, her body weight pinning you against the cushions.

“fuck— you’re dripping all over my couch pretty.” ellie murmurs against your throat, voice rough with lust. her finger dips lower, coating it in your wetness before pushing in slow, letting you feel every inch before she curls upward.

you stomach clenches, walls fluttering; she adds a second finger without warning, stretching you open.

ellie pumps skillfully, lewd noises filling the room, mixed with your ragged breathing and whiny moans. she lifts her head to watch your face, green eyes locked on yours, intense and commanding.

when your eyes roll back in pleasure, ellie’s voice grabs your attention, “look at me while i fuck you with my fingers.” your eyes shoot open, heat floods your cheeks, hips bucking up to meet her thrusts.

her pace quickens, her thumb moves to rub firmly over your clit. your thighs tremble, muscles spasming as bursts of ecstasy ripple through your body.

she spreads your thighs even wider with one of her knees and grinds her palm against you with each pump of her fingers, hitting that sweet spot inside you.

“el— ellie! oh fuck—“

“that’s it. take it. let me hear how good it feels.”

you moan louder, high-pitched and unrestrained. she drives her fingers faster, twisting them against your walls. sweat beads on your skin, your dress is bunched up and pulled down, the top of your chest spilling out.

ellie leans down, yanking the fabric lower with her teeth, exposing your nipples. she takes one in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the bud.

her hand still works against you relentlessly, the sensation pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“not yet…” ellie slows down, her warning dripping with mock condescension. this draws a frustrated whine from you as you teeter on the brink of orgasm.

she stops, pulling her hand free, your pussy clenching around nothing— trying to suck her back in. she brings her fingers to your lips, forcing them into your mouth; your own arousal leaking down your bottom lip.

you suck eagerly, tongue lapping up every drop. ellie watches you through hooded eyes, her chest heaving; she pulls her fingers from your mouth with a wet pop.

she grips your chin harshly, “so fucking pretty…”

ellie finally releases your wrists and rises from the couch, standing beside it. you go to sit up, but she stops you, “stay there. i’ll only be a second.”

“no els, please—“

her voice is firm as she turns and walks down a small hallway, “don’t think. just listen, remember?” you nod even though she can’t see you.

you close your eyes and inhale deeply through your nose, trying to steady yourself.

that’s when you notice it— your dress bunched under your chest, twisted up and forgotten. the realization sends a warm rush through you; you pause for half a second, then tug it the rest of the way off.

you drop the skimpy red dress on the floor beside the couch. you sit there waiting impatiently, every sense tuned in towards the hallway…

toward the sound of footsteps approaching.

the air shifts when ellie steps back in then living room; purple strap on hanging low on her hips. her hoodie is gone, black sports bra snug on her chest.

your eyes widen, jaw dropping slightly; a fresh wave of arousal floods your cunt.

her steps falter when she sees your dress in a pile on the floor; she curses, barely audible. “fuck…”

her jaw is tight as she steps closer, her fingers grip your chin again, forcing your gaze to meet hers.

she kneels down next to you, fingertips possessively tracing your sternum, “hey pretty girl?”

words fail you, only able to squeak out a sound, “mhm?”

“i want you to get up on your knees, face—“ ellie points towards her kitchen, “that way, and lay your head—“ then she taps the arm of the couch with two fingers. “right here…”

ellie leans back, a predator stalking its prey, and watches you spring into action, doing exactly as she asks.

so perfect. so submissive.

once you’re laid out exactly how she wants, face pressed into the rough fabric of the couch, ass high in the air; she moves behind you.

one of her legs is bent at the knee on the cushions, the other planted on the floor. she kneads the flesh of your ass in her hands, pulling the skin roughly, spreading you open. she gives one cheek a soft smack, pulling a sharp moan from you.

ellie snorts, “you are a needy little slut, aren’t you?”

the smooth tip of her strap dips between your folds, and your focus slips, mind hazy with want. her hand comes down on your other cheek, the sting making you dizzy. “that was a question pretty girl.”

“fuck— sorry! yes! i am.”

“good fucking girl.”

she pushes the tip in, just enough to make you shudder at the weight of it— a preview of what’s to come. her hands grip your hips tightly, holding you still. you moan loud, trying to push your hips back to take more of her.

ellie’s fingers flex against your skin, “you’re already falling apart for me… and i haven’t even fucked you yet.”

she starts to push in at an agonizingly slow pace, teasing you on purpose. a slow torture designed to break you down. you sob against the fabric, words muffled, “el— please…”

“aw, please what?” she taunts you, her voice a low purr as she finally buries herself to the hilt. once her hips sit flush against your ass, she pauses; you feel so full, the stretch overwhelming. “tell me what you want.”

“i want more,” you barely choke out the words, “please, fuck me ellie…” it’s barely a whisper.

she reaches up and grips the back of your neck, chuckling softly.

“as you wish pretty girl.”

she pulls out almost completely, then snaps her hips forward, setting a pace that steals your breath. the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room; along with your moans and ellie’s breathy grunts.

each thrust shoves you forward, you move your arms to brace on the couch, digging your nails into the fabric.

the pleasure so intense it borders on pain.

tears are streaming down your face now, you’re babbling strings of curses and pleas.

your body is at her mercy; so close, the coil inside you wound impossibly tight— but it’s still not enough to fall over the edge.

you have no idea what you need, but ellie’s words ring in your head, ‘you don’t have to think. i do.’

so you beg.

“ellie— i—“ you struggle to articulate what you’re feeling, but ellie knows you need something else.

“what pretty? whatchu need?”

“i don’t know!” you’re crying for real now, the pleasure is too much, yet not enough and you can’t take it any longer. “i need to cum, please els!”

with a rough groan, ellie pulls out, the sudden emptiness makes you cry out, but her hands are on you instantly. she flips you onto your back with surprising strength.

and you’re a mess.

legs spread wide. flushed skin. tears staining your face.

ellie kneels between your thighs, eyes hungry as they rake over you. she visibly shivers when she reaches up and wipes tears from your cheek with her thumb, “so fucking beautiful when you cry for me.”

before you have a second to process, she’s lining up again. but this time, there’s no prep, no easing in; just one fluid motion, filling you completely. the sudden intrusion rips a strangled moan from your throat.

even with the force behind her initial thrust, she doesn’t set a brutal pace. instead, bracing one hand behind your head, the other snaking down between your bodies.

your nails claw at the skin on her shoulders, dragging down her biceps as her fingers find your swollen clit. ellie moves in tight circles, dipping her lips to your throat again, darkening her previous marks.

the fullness of the toy inside you, the targeted pressure on your clit, her mouth on your skin— it’s too much.

it’s everything you want.

it’s exactly what you need.

your body locks up, back arching violently off the couch. a shrill, desperate sound tears from your lips when the coil inside you finally snaps.

it’s explosive, overwhelming; a release that whites out your vision entirely. your orgasm is intense and all consuming, sucking all the air from your lungs.

your walls are clamping down hard as you shake uncontrollably, the pleasure making you delirious.

ellie doesn’t stop her movements; drawing out every last spasm until you’re sobbing, completely ruined.

when she finally slows, both you are panting, bodies tired. her green orbs watch you closely when she eases the toy out, wet and glistening with your slick. you whine, the loss leaves you feeling empty and aching.

your body is still buzzing, mind still reeling— you’re still high.

ellie straightens, unbuckling the harness on her hips, and wiggles free before dropping it on the floor next to your dress.

your gaze travels up her body, clad in black soffe shorts that fit her perfectly, abs flexing at every inhale, sports bra still straining against her small breasts. there’s a faint sheen of sweat on her skin that makes her glow in the dim lighting; she looks painfully hot.

you’re falling restless again— not because you want ellie to touch you, but because you want to touch ellie.

she stands now, looking down at you on the couch, you’re still gathering your thoughts. your hands tremble as you sit up, reaching for the waistband of ellie’s shorts; she raises her brows.

“ellie… can i… can i please touch you?”

she pauses, a smirk spreads across her face, but her body betrays her; pupils blown wide, hands shaking, breathing uneven.

“you sure you can handle it pretty girl? you look like you’re still spacey.”

you nod frantically, running your hands up her sides, then dragging your nails back down. “i can do it. i want to so bad, please?”

a low chuckle rumbles through ellie’s chest, “well… since you asked so nicely…” her voice is rough around the edges, “but you’re gonna do exactly what i say, think you can do that?”

you nod again, “yes. i promise.”

she hooks a finger under you jaw, tilting your head up to meet her eyes, “good girl. now get on your knees, right here.” she motions to the ground in front of her as she moves to sit on the couch; you down between her legs.

you scramble to comply, the plush rug soft under your sore limbs. you look up at her from this new angle, and the sight makes your breath catch— ellie looks godlike.

sharp features. soft skin. her athletic frame causing your mouth to water.

her hands rest on her hips, thumbs hooking in the waistband on her shorts. her command comes out softly, “take them off pretty.”

your fingers waver as you reach for the fabric and slowly pull them down her toned thighs. the cotton is warm, you can feel the heat radiating from her skin. you drop them next to your dress, leaving her in her black sports bra and black boxer briefs that cling to her— already dark with arousal.

when you reach for them, she stops you with a hand on your wrist, “ah ah. i want you to use your teeth.”

your cheeks flush bright red and bite your lip, but you lean forward without hesitation; gripping the elastic with your teeth and working them down.

once she’s left in nothing but her sports bra, you can’t help but stare, mesmerized by the sight of her, slick already seeping. the scent of her, warm and raw, floods your senses; your head is spinning.

“eyes up here pretty.” you force your gaze up, her tousled hair and flushed face now drawing your attention. her eyes are glossy but wide, lips parted as she watches you.

“i want you to start with your fingers. get them wet for me.” you bring them to your mouth, sucking and coating them with salvia.

“good. now one finger, just slide it through my folds. don’t go inside yet. just… feel.”

you obey, tracing the length of her slit. she’s impossibly wet, the feeling of her arousal on your skin has you twitching in pleasure.

ellie lets out a shaky breath, shifting her hips forward slightly. “add another one and circle my clit. slowly.”

your fingers find the hard nub, languid motions just as she instructed; she groans, her head falling back against the back of the couch.

“fuck, just like that…” she whimpers. “now go a little faster.”

you speed up, your fingers covered in her slick as she starts grinding against your hand. her breath is ragged, lip caught between her teeth. she gasps.

“please— your mouth. i need your mouth.”

you lean in, replacing your fingers with your tongue. you lap at her, savoring the tangy taste, and she yells out.

“yes, fuck, just like that.” her hands tangle in your hair. “yeah, suck on my clit. make me cum.”

your lips wrap around her, sucking gently, she bucks against your face. when her grip tightens in your hair, you moan against her. her eyebrows furrow, jaw falling open.

“harder.” she demands, her voice nearly a growl. “i’m so fucking close.”

you suck a bit harder and flick your tongue— then she shatters.

her breath seizes up, her body convulsing as her orgasm washes over her. you hold her through it, slowing down but not pulling away.

after ellie falls limp underneath you, she hauls you up, hands cupping your face as she kisses you, hard and deep.

“you’re such a good girl.” she whispers against your lips, “so fucking good for me.”

you’re still in her lap when everything finally settles. your forehead tucked against her shoulder, her arms are wrapped loosely around your waist, fingertips tracing undistinguishable patterns along your spine.

ellie exhales softly against your temple, lips brushing the skin there, “you feeling okay?”

you only hum a response, not ready to move just yet. but ellie sits up, one hand falling to your lower back, the other nudges your knee softly.

“c’mon. bathroom. i’ll help you.”

you both stand up carefully, her hands stay on you the entire short trip down the hallway, your head lolling against her shoulder. she flicks the bathroom light on and lets you step inside.

she opens a linen closet and pulls out two small towels, then she turns on the sink to warm up the water.

ellie faces you again, her voice hushed, “take a second, use the bathroom, and i’ll be right back, okay?”

you give her a subtle nod and take a few steps towards the toilet; plopping down and closing your eyes as ellie shuts the bathroom door behind her.

the peak of your high has pretty much worn off now, leaving you tired and sore. you finish your business, but can’t bring your legs to stand you up. your thoughts begin to drift; you almost start reflecting on this decision, the words: ‘did i just…’ when the door opens again and ellie walks in with a small stack of clothes for you.

she’s wearing a pair of black sweat pants and a faded pbr shirt; she sets the clothes on the countertop, leans her hands against it, and looks at you.

“let’s get you cleaned up… ready?”

when you can only manage a weak nod, she softens and takes a step closer. she helps you stand, then wraps an arm around your waist.

“come on, let’s get you up here.”

she helps you climb into the bathroom counter; you can’t help but flinch as the cold surface makes contact with your heated skin.

ellie sticks her fingers under the water, testing the temperature; she adjusts it slightly, wets one of the towels, and wrings it out.

“should be nice and warm…” she trails off, her voice gentle and focused.

she starts with your cheeks, wiping away any sign of dried tears and running mascara. she moves down to your neck and chest, her touch is careful and attentive— your eyes close and you rest your head back against the mirror. when she reaches your core, you tense up; but quickly relax into her touch, allowing her to take care of you.

she lays the wet cloth on the edge of the sink and picks up the other one, patting you dry; her movements even softer than before. her hands linger on your knees, the now damp cloth also set to the side, her thumbs brushing slow circles.

“how you feeling pretty girl?”

you sigh, smiling softly, “really good els…”

she smiles back, “alright, let’s get you dressed.”

ellie helps you down from the counter, hands on your middle until your legs feel steady enough to stand on.

she lets go, but doesn’t step far; she’s not necessarily hovering but her presence is solid.

almost protective.

you pull on a gray pair of soffe shorts and an oversized nirvana tee, shaking out your tired limbs. ellie’s hand falls on your lower back as she reaches around you to open the door.

she guides you into her bedroom, and just like the rest of the apartment, it’s unmistakably her.

it’s dark, but illuminatined by mismatched table lamps. the air smells faintly of weed and something woodsy. the bed sits low to the floor, dark gray sheets crumpled on the mattress. a variety of framed and taped posters line the wall right above the headboard, the colors are worn down and the corners are curling. a guitar leans against a bookcase that’s stacked with cds and old video games.

ellie clears her throat behind you, “so… uhm. do you, maybe, wanna… stay tonight?” her arm reaches out, hand finding yours, and interlacing your fingers. “i don’t want you to go yet.”

something in your chest blooms, giving her hand a small squeeze, “yeah… i’d like that.”

she lets out a breath, pulling her lips into a crooked smile when she finally looks at you, “okay, cool. yeah— cool.”

you both stand there for a moment, a little unsure of what comes next. she eventually gestures towards the bed, “go ahead and get comfortable, i’m just gonna…” she waves vaguely towards the door, “i’ll be right back.”

you crawl onto the mattress, sinking into the soft sheets, the cool fabric soothing you. you listen to ellie’s footsteps outside, the creak of the bathroom door, and the muffled rush of running water; the sounds fading into white noise.

your eyes flutter closed before you even realize it, everything feels pleasantly heavy; your body nearly giving into sleep.

you’re barely aware of the bed dipping again, warmth pressing against you from behind, an arm slides around your waist. ellie pulls you against her, careful not to wake you— you fit together like you’ve done this before, maybe in another lifetime.

you feel her head tuck into the crook of your neck, breath soft against your skin. her thumb flexes against your stomach, before slipping under the shirt you’re borrowing, and tracing mindless patterns.

she inhales slow, breathing you in, “i’m… really glad you’re here.” her words are lower than a whisper, like they’re only meant for herself instead of you.

you don’t open your eyes, but you push yourself impossibly closer to her, the words spilling out before you can stop them, “me too.”

ellie freezes, you feel it instantly; the way her arm stiffened around you, breath stammering. the silence only lasts a moment before she huffs a silent laugh, “good… now go to sleep pretty girl.”

her response barely has time to process before you’re dozing off, safely wrapped in ellie’s arms.

that next morning, you wake slowly; the morning light streaming through a slit in the dark curtains, your consciousness is coming back in pieces. before you open your eyes, memories of last night come rushing back— ellie.

you take a deep breath, trying to settle the fluttering in your stomach, when you feel fingers brush hair from your face.

your eyes squint open, ellie pulls her hand away mid-motion. she’s sitting up against the headboard, hair tangled, hoodie wrinkled and hanging off one shoulder, her eyes still heavy with sleep.

“oh— hey.”

you stretch your arms above your head, rolling onto your stomach to get a full look at her, “good morning…”

for a few minutes, neither of you move; sitting comfortably in a silence that’s holding words you don’t really know how to say. it feels fragile, like the wrong thing could ruin it all.

eventually, ellie clears her throat and sits up straighter, “you… uh, probably wanna get home right?”

you nod, even though your body is begging you not to move.

the two of you shuffle back into the living room, your slippers, dress, and ellie’s clothes still lay on the floor in front of the couch. you slide on your slippers as she moves around you to open the window when a laugh bubbles in her chest.

she turns to face you, pointing at the fire escape.

“what?”

you peer around her, your blanket from last night is still out there. twisted and caught in the railing; one end is secured, the other flaps in the wind, smacking against the brick of the building. at first, you just stare.

then start giggling, ellie’s laugh tangling with yours.

“oops… you kind of just abandoned it, huh?”

you groan, palm landing on your forehead, “i was a little distracted.”

she snorts, “you had a good reason.”

she steps out of the way so you can climb out, dress tossed over your shoulder. you stumble a little when you yank the blanket free and tuck it under your arm. she leans against the window frame, watching you with a smirk.

“all good?”

you nod once, pulling your window open, “yep. got it.”

as you lower yourself inside, your eyes search for ellie’s one more time; she’s still watching you with an unreadable expression.

she sends you a wink, “hey… text me?”

you grin, almost shy, “i always do.”

ooouuuu my first request! thank you anonymous:)

let’s chat about dom ellie for a sec… i personally think as much as she’s like this big dorky loser, when it comes to this type of dynamic, she locks tf in. when you’re laid out in front of her naked or close to, she’s not thinking about her comic books or dinosaurs, she’s thinking about fucking you into next week. i think she’d loveee taking control, that’s not to say she also wouldn’t like to relinquish it but for the sake of this fic…

anyways sorry for my rant, opinions are just that!

obvi… my requests are open!

thank you for reading <333