𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 🍒

"Hey!" Ellie reached for it, but you held it high above your head with a smug grin.

"You agreed to watch a movie with me," you said. "Not spend two hours shooting twelve-year-olds online."

"They're probably grown adults."

"That somehow makes it worse."

She huffed, crossing her arms as you leaned over and placed her phone on your bedside table—just out of reach.

"Watch the movie, Ellie."

"You are unbelievably annoying."

You cuddled in closer to her, You shifted a little closer until your shoulder brushed Ellie's.

"You love me," you murmured with a teasing smile.

Ellie let out a quiet hum, pretending to stay focused on the movie. You smiled to yourself, settling more comfortably against her. Neither of you moved away.

The room fell quiet again, filled only with the muted dialogue from the television.

After a while, you noticed Ellie wasn't watching the movie anymore. Ellie's gaze drifted from your eyes to your lips before she caught herself and looked away just as quickly.

Your heart skipped. "...Ellie?"

she blinked, suddenly very interested in the blanket pooled across your lap.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

Ellie swallowed hard, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of your blanket.

"I don't know how to say this," she admitted quietly, still avoiding eye contact.

She took a deep breath before finally turning her head to look at you, Her usual calm expression had cracked, replaced with something achingly vulnerable.

"I think..." She let out a nervous laugh. "No, I do like you."

"You like me?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ellie nodded slowly, her face burning. "Yeah... I have for a while actually."

She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I didn't say anything because I thought you'd laugh at me or something." Her green eyes searched yours anxiously as she waited for your reaction.

"You are such an idiot," you said softly, lifting a hand to cup her warm cheek.

Ellie blinked in surprise at your touch but didn't pull away. "Why?" she asked quietly, leaning slightly into your hand.

Ellie's eyes widened in surprise as your lips met hers, her body going stiff for a moment.

Then, suddenly, she relaxed into you. She let out a soft breath, her hands coming up to grip the front of your shirt as she kissed you back just as desperately. Every ounce of uncertainty and worry she'd been feeling melted away as one hand slid into your hair.

"Fuck," she breathed out shakily, tilting her head slightly to give you better access without even realizing she was doing it.

A small whimper escaped when you kissed a particularly sensitive spot just below her ear. Ellie had never felt anything like this before- the way every nerve ending seemed electrified by your touch.

"You're so beautiful Ellie." You whispered softly against her skin and she let out and embarrassed groan.

"S-shut up." You looked up and she was a mess already and you had barely even done anything. You couldn't help but feel a surge of pride that you had done this to her.

You smiled to yourself as you pushed up her hoodie to reveal she wasn't wearing anything underneath, and you bit your lip to let out any sound.

Ellie was obviously impatient as she squirmed around. "Are you gonna do anything or just stare at me?"

You rolled your eyes. God this girl was something else. You climbed on top of her straddling her lap, her hands flying to your waist instinctively. You lowered your head as you put one of her nipples in your mouth, sucking lightly.

Ellie choked on air, as she started tugging your hair hard. "Shit!" She was trying hard not to make any noise as to wake up your parents, but was failing.

You hummed against her breast and she arched into you, whining. "Please baby..."

You looked up at her, her face was bright red and her eyes where blown. "Please what Ellie?"

"Please just- fuck- just touch me." She whined desperately, trying to move her hips discreetly for any type of friction.

You smirked against her chest. Your fingers ran down her body, to the waistband of her shorts, your heart pounding in your chest.

You pulled it off and could smell her arousal instantly, her boxers soaked through.

"Fuck Ellie, your so sensitive." You mumble as you look at her.

She covered her burning face from your gaze. "Sh-shut up, oh my god."

You lowered your head and sucked her clit through the fabric. Ellie bucked her hips instantly, a high moan escaping her lips.

"Oh shit!." She gasped out.

You could already taste her through the thin fabric, she was so warm and perfect.

"You're so wet baby. Is this all from me? " You asked teasingly.

She didn't get the chance to answer because second you swiped your tongue over her clit again through the fabric of her boxers.

A loud moan tore from Ellie's throat before she could stop it and immediately slapped a hand over her own mouth in panic.

Her eyes went wide with horror at how loud that was, she froze like a deer in headlights - waiting to see if anyone heard.

After a few seconds of tense silence, you realized no one was coming to check on the two of you, and a wave of relief washed over her.

The moment was broken and you couldn't help but giggle at how comically panicked Ellie looked.

"Relax, idiot," you teased softly, leaning over and gently pulling her hand away from her face. "Everyone's sleeping."

You finally slipped off her boxers, leaving her bare cunt to your gaze.

"Fuck Els, who knew you had shut a pretty pussy." You murmur in awe, as you press a soft kiss to her clit."

"Just fuck me already," Ellie bucked her hips into your mouth again, practically sobbing. "Please baby, I need you so bad,"

Her breath hitched sharply when your lips met her clit directly, skin-to-skin this time.

"Oh my god," she whimpered, back arching off the bed as her hands let go of your hair to grab your polka dot sheets.

Her whole body was trembling with anticipation - she'd never been touched like this before and it showed. Every nerve felt electrified.

"You feel so good," you murmured against her before dragging your tongue slowly through her folds.

Her thighs squeezed around your head instinctively when you circled her clit with the tip of your tongue.

"Fuck yes right there!" She groaned, before biting down on her lip to muffle herself again.

You could feel how wet she was - every movement sent slick heat coating your chin. Her hips kept rocking into you, chasing that perfect friction.

You placed both of her legs over your shoulder for better access and she couldn't help but let out a pathetic whimper.

You slipped a finger into her pussy and it sucked it right in. She moaned louder at the sensation as you fucked her with your finger and sucked her clit.

You looked your that spot inside her before you found it and her back fully arched off the bed in a silent moan. You moaned into her clit, heat rushing to your own cunt, and you softly started grinding against your bed, looking for your own relief.

Ellie's breath came in short, shaky gasps as you worked her over with your mouth and fingers.

"Oh god, I'm gonna-" she warned suddenly, her whole body tensing up.

Her thighs squeezed around your head as her orgasm hit her juices covering your chin.

You fucked her through it before she started to kick you away in overstimulation. You got up, wiping your face as you climbed back up her body.

Ellie was a mess underneath you, breathless and trembling from the intensity of it all. Her face was flushed, eyes wide and dark with pleasure.

"Holy hell," she managed to get out, her voice hoarse and cracking. "That was… wow."

You moved to lay down beside her, both of you catching your breath in the afterglow.

"You were perfect." You smile softly at her, brushing the hair stuck to her sweaty forehead away.

Ellie turned her head on the pillow to look at you, a dazed but happy smile playing on her lips, the movie playing the credits.

Some girls weren’t hitting their stunts. Some were secretly texting their boyfriends thinking you couldn’t see them. Some flat out just laid on the turf like they didn’t even wanna bother with practice.

You huffed a frustrated breath out. It was nearing the end of the year. All the girls ran out of passion for the cheer team. And honestly? So did you.

“Practice’s over!” You started grabbing your bag. Already over whatever this mess of a cheer team. If you could even call it that.

You wanted to be angry. You should be. You were captain. You practically built this team. College was hard enough but having to keep nineteen girls in check till next season was something you weren’t prepared for.

You were good at being captain without all this burnout. You knew all the stunts and you could execute it perfectly. Ellie knew it too.

The girl who auburn hair lurked in the background. Watching practices from the bleachers when she thought nobody noticed her but of course, everybody did.

The girls on your team teased you everytime those mossy eyes were caught looking up your skirt, or eyeing the pencil that twiddled between your lip and teeth.

“Hey! Captain, I think you have a shadow.” You knew you had a shadow. A part of you wanted it to stay that way but the other, it was curious.

You knew her name, Ellie Williams. It rolled off your tongue after a few girls on the team told you all about her. They used words like…

“Quiet”

“Dorky”

“Weird”

Even heard the taunting, “Virgin” through the whispers of the campus walls. Though it only fueled the pit of curiosity inside of you.

The sun went down, casting a hue of purples and blues across the sky. You admired the view as you walked back to your dorm. You almost make it to your door before a head of brunette hair fills your vision.

Ah. One of the girls from the team. You were half certain this one’s name was Bella.

She excitedly bounced up to you. Clearly tipsy as she almost trips over her sneakers. She was one of the newer girls. Still settling into college, trying every drink in sight because of “the experience”.

You hated it. All of it. The experience. The cheering for football boys who were bullshit. The going class to class all to work some shitty job because a man took the good ones.

People equate being popular for being important. The experience was bullshit. All of it is.

“Are you paying attention? I asked if you’re going to the party tonight.” the overexcited cheerleader asked as she waved a shy hand in front of your face.

All you wanted to do was sink into the shower and forget all about summer so you nod to whatever shitshow she somehow invited you to and rush inside your dorm.

You lay your back against the cold metal door. Hearing her footsteps recede and a slight knock into a nearby wall before a giggle escapes into the air and all sign of her is gone.

Drunk cheerleaders and loud frat boys wasn’t how you wanted to spend your night but what can you do? It’s college. Some twisted part of you wanted to know if your skittish shadow had the courage to show up tonight.

-༻𖤓༺-

The sky was fully set now. Darkness falling abruptly onto the world. If you were truly responsible, you’d be tucked into bed or falling asleep on top of a textbook but not this night.

You found yourself wearing an outfit that your parents would refer to as “too revealing” and you were wearing shoes that future you would very much be sorry for.

Bella didn’t exactly give you an address but who needs one when you can just follow the hoards of people. The party comes into sight quick, the bass threatening to break through the soles of your heels. The air smells like firewood and weed as you near closer.

You don’t even make it to the first step before ear piercing squeals hit your ears. It only takes a moment at most before you see multiple girls trample each other on the sidewalk to get to your side. One of them, you recognize to be Bella from earlier.

“Oh my gosh! You look so hot!” One of the cheerleaders say.

The rest of them shout out more compliments to overthrow the previous. You feel the urge to roll your eyes at the fake interaction but you swallow it down.

“Thanks, I guess. Let’s head into the party shall we? This girl needs a drink.” You giggle as you grab a random cheerleader’s hand and start leading the way.

What you didn’t notice throughout that tiny interaction was the forest eyes watching your every move. The way your waist looked as you walked in that dress. The way you giggled in a way that made her heart flutter. The way your hand clasped together with those girls full of plastic.

Surely that meant you were plastic too. But no, Ellie knew better. She knew you had something underneath and it was something she found herself wanting more and more each day. When your body descends into the sea of people and your out of sight, Ellie returns her attention back to her friends.

“You are so wrong, Dina! Tell her, Els.”

Ellie looks between the pair. Dina and Jesse. They’ve all been friends since they found their way to this shitty college. They both knew about Ellie’s tendency to be…

Quiet. Always in a comic. Studying some weird sciencey project for a class she wasn’t even in.

But nonetheless, that’s what they loved most about her. Her obviously distracted eyes flickered back to the pair that was awaiting her answer.

“Uh..Els? You okay?”

Ellie feverishly nods her head. Faint red splotches painting her mocha spotted face. She tried to play it off but when has Ellie ever been smooth? She scratches her nape and her voice wavers as she scrambles past the pair, “Let’s just head inside, yeah?”

A part of her, is briskly walking away from her display of embarrassment but the other? Maybe, wants to see a certain cheerleader.

The party is packed, loud, and undoubtedly full of booze. Ellie smells it on every breath that wafts her way. Some of the frat boys even have it sticking to them like a second skin.

Inside, Ellie wants to sigh. She doesn’t belong here. She knows it. All it takes is for her to stand in a room full of drunk college folks to realize she’s nothing like them.

But tonight, Ellie would try to be. Which is why she signals to Jesse that she’s heading off for a second, weaving through crowds to people to make it to the drink table.

Where you happen to be, nursing a red solo cup filled with cranberry juice and vodka.

Your eyes almost immediately clashed with hers. You saw her. She saw you. And you knew it by the way her walking stammered a bit before picking up the pace again.

Her body weaved through others, eyes flickering between you and the bodies colliding with hers. You stared into your drink for a couple seconds. Wondering what this girl wanted from you.

It’s almost pathetic, you thought to yourself. Those thoughts dissolved as quickly as it came because before you knew it, Ellie was standing right next to you at the drink table.

Her fingers skipped past each bottle before landing on a clear bottle with a beige lable. You grimaced.

“There’s a reason that bottle is mostly full.” You shouted over the chatter and music. You almost think she didn’t hear you, but Ellie is always paying attention to you, even when her hands are shaking in nervousness.

“Never a good choice.” You lean over towards her, closing the gap between you too. From this angle, she can smell your perfume. It smells like florals and a bit of vodka from your breath. It’s enticing and you know it too. She can hear you more clear from this proximity. Ellie isn’t sure if that’s a good thing. Her nerves have her practically vibrating out her shoes. If you noticed, you don’t mention it.

You reach towards the back of table and grab a bottle that’s mostly empty. The lable is turned away from Ellie but she trusts your judgement as you pour a solo cup of this mystery drink.

“This is lighter than the other one. Try it.” Your gloss shines under the led lights in the room and Ellie tries her best not to look directly at your lips so she takes the cup and gulps down a big sip.

Her throat constricts for a second and she grimaces before coughing. Embarrassment burns at her face and she’s grateful you can’t see from the only lighting being blue led bulbs.

Ellie recovers from her coughing fit to see a gleam of entertainment in your eyes. The freckled girl didn’t fully understand why you were being so nice. It wasn’t a secret that you were a bitch.

You’re a cheerleader. You’re popular and you have popular friends so why would you take the time to pour a drink for a girl who was known for being a science geek with no campus life? Ellie didn’t get it but she also didn’t question it.

“Not a frequent party girl, are you?” Your lips turn upwards. A small smile shining through before you nibble on your bottom lip, muffling a giggle. Ellie nods as her lips find her cup once again. Though this time, she doesn’t cough like a maniac.

The conversation fizzles into an awkward silence so Ellie finds herself saying the first thing that comes to mind. Not letting this opportunity slip away.

“Where’s your cheerleaders?” The question is normal and light but Ellie’s palm still sweats around her solo cup.

Your eyes flick to Ellie’s mossy ones before scanning the area. You see a couple girls, most probably in other areas of the frat house. The question itself isn’t bothersome. Before, you would be estatic to talk about the cheerleader because it meant talking about you.

Now, it taste like acid in your mouth. Deep down, you knew none of that college hierarchy was meaningful. It was just pretend. But you still played along anyway, plastering a giddy smile on your face and taking a small sip of your mixed drink.

“You came over here to talk to me or my cheerleaders, Ellie?”

Ellie’s entire body turns towards you, drink sloshing in her cup. “What? No. Actually, I came here for a drink.” Her sentences trip over each other and you just stand there and watch. A part of you likes seeing Ellie all flustered. “Talking to you was a coincidence. I mean- it’s great but a coincidence.”

You giggle into the palm of your hand and set your now empty cup on the table. “You’re so easy to make nervous. Chill, Els.”

Ellie’s body tensed up at the newfound nickname. This was her first interaction with the cheerleader of her dreams and Ellie found herself seeing all her fantasies come true. You two didn’t notice that the party was getting more crowded by the second, too busy immersed in each other. Ellie couldn’t even see her friends from here and neither could you.

Bodies crammed closer to you too. The air was hotter and everybody was reaching for a bottle to get blacked out. Most of you in this party had classes the next day but nobody truly cared. Well, except for Ellie.

You eyed her when she took another sip of her drink. Her hand twitched a bit, nerves getting the best of her. You knew what being anxious felt like. You didn’t wake up one day so confident. You learned it and you perfected it. Which is why, today you were so thankful for your learned confidence.

You turned your body to Ellie. Her eyes a bit wide, waiting for you to speak. When you spoke, you’re sure her eyes got even wider.

“It’s crowded down here. Wanna head upstairs maybe?”

Ellie feverishly nodded before hurriedly leaving her drink on the table somewhere as she followed you through the crowds. Ellie was sure she passed Dina and Jesse but they were in the back of her mind. The only thing she had in her head right now was you.

The stunning cheerleader she’s had a crush on since the start of college.

-༻𖤓༺-

You both stepped into a dimly lit room. It consisted of a bed, a dresser, and a desk stacked with study books on it. Obviously belonging to a student who lived here but at this exact moment, it was empty so it was perfect.

Ellie’s stance was awkward. As if she didn’t know what to do with herself but you were different. You aimlessly walked around the room with no worry. Picking up random knick-knacks like you knew exactly how this interaction would go.

Your voice piqued up, “So, what’s your deal?” Ellie stopped for a beat. Maybe two. She didn’t meet your eyes, almost too nervous to speak. She stuttered for a second before landing on the right words. Her hands wiping sweat on her denim jeans.

“What do you mean?”

You sighed before ticking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You stopped near the desk, fingers gliding against the books stacked upon each other. The silence streched for a bit more before you spoke up again. Making Ellie’s body shiver with more nerves than before.

“Are you attracted to me Ellie?”

Ellie’s heart skipped a beat. Several at this point. The question made her body go tense and she suddenly felt like she was under a spot light. She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. Watching you saunter closer to her.

Your fingers guided loose strands of hair behind your ear as you took a few steps closer to Ellie. Your eyes peered up at hers.

She stuttered and tripped over simple words. You knew she was an introvert. A little more shy than others and you also knew how to fix that. Your arms wrapped around her neck, her blabbering coming to a calm close. Your hands found themselves on her nape and traveling to the roots of her hair.

Ellie’s eyes fell deeper into yours, welcoming your warm touch. She nodded to your question but that wasn’t enough for you.

“Say it.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a demand. And Ellie graciously obliged.

“I think you’re attractive.” She spit out. Somehow scared of how the confession will survive in the quiet room. But she didn’t have to be scared of long because before she knew it, your lips were on hers.

It was erratic and you didn’t even think twice about it. All you knew was that in the short time you’ve spoken to Ellie, it was natural. It wasn’t plastic or fake like those cheerleaders or those football girl hookups.

It was just you and Ellie. And you wanted so much more.

Ellie kissed you back and you swore your face was on fire. She kissed you faster, harder. Deeper. Ellie took ahold of your waist and guided you a few steps backwars until your back hit the cold wooden door.

You let a quiet whimper and you felt Ellie’s body tense before melting back into you. She kissed you until your lips felt numb, pulling back for a breath. Her eyes shone with a disbelief like she couldn’t believe you were actually here. The silence wasn’t awkward like before, it was full of you both catching your breath and tension that you both couldn’t handle.

After taking a few seconds to breath, you spoke. Ellie inches away from your face.

“I think you’re attractive too.”

Her hand fell from your waist and you heard a click from the door. By the time you noticed she locked it, her lips found yours once again.

Ellie was real. She was here and she was touching you. Her skin was soft and dotted like a fawn. She wasn’t fake. She wasn’t pretending like them. And that was all it took for you to give in.

You kissed her back. Your lips working into hers again, she tasted a bit like vodka and strawberry gum. It hurt like a bruise but you never once stopped. Not even to breathe. Cause in this moment, all you wanted, was Ellie.

And all she wanted was you.

Ellie pulled you closer into her as you kissed. Somewhere in all of that, you found both of you on the bed. Ellie was propped up by her elbows and you straddled her waist.

Her belt buckle digging into the skin of your thighs. Her hands now positioned to the swell of your ass. Your dress was slightly lifted, your lacy underwear making an appearance. The sight made Ellie almost groan but she held it down as you continued to pepper kisses around her lips and neck.

You peeled back from Ellie, meeting her eyes. Your voice was raw and red from the kissing but you spoke anyway. “Is this okay, Els?”

In that moment, Ellie felt her heart breating out of her chest. She never expected this to happen to her but now that she’s in the moment, she was going to cherish every second of your smooth touch.

Ellie whimpered out a small, “Yes” and that was all it took for you to scoot down and reach her belt buckle. The belt clattered somewhere to the floor as you tossed it off the bed.

Your fingers played around the band of Ellie’s boxers. You didn’t take off her jeans. Knowing that the auburn girl wanted your touch right now.

“Just touch me.” Ellie let out exasperatedly. She was needy and you loved every second of it.

You cooed to her, “Don’t be impatient, Ellie.”

Her body rolled into your hand, trying to find any relief from the sensation her body needed so bad. She looked so pretty under the dimly lit glow of the room, you just couldn’t deny her heaven.

Your fingers lightly drew up her slit. Her breath getting caught in her throat before she let out something mixed between a low moan and a sigh.

Her lips were parted and you dipped your fingers into her boxers. When your fingers brushed against her clit, Ellie let out a full moan. You giggled at her reaction, you felt a familiar sensation in your lower body.

Seeing Ellie propped up on the bed, face flush with pleasure. You never would have expected this but you weren’t complaining in any way.

“Right there. Right there.” Ellie repeated over and over like a mantra. Fists balled up into the duvet. You listened to her, applying more pressure at her request.

Your fingers did small ovals around her bundle of nerves. The wetness of her coating your fingers. Your finger dipped lower and lower until you found yourself circling her entrance.

Ellie bit down on her bottom lip to supress her moans. She doubt anyone could hear her over the music but she wasn’t taking any chances.

“How many do you want?” You leaned down and cooed into her ear. Ellie swore she smelled your perfume on your neck. It made her clench around nothing but air and she found herself whimpering, craving your touch.

Ellie couldn’t make sense of most of her thoughts, so all she could mutter out was one single word.

“Please.”

In any other scenario, you wouldn’t take that as an answer but for Ellie, you would. You plunged two fingers into her. Her face morphing into a state of ecstasy. Her mouth opened wide but nothing escaped. Until, you started moving. You found a steady rhythm, gaining speed as Ellie’s moans pitched high and higher.

You wanted to know how good you made her feel and so, “Does it feel good, Ellie?” You whispered into the shell of her ear.

She groaned at the sound of your voice so close to her. She nodded quickly. “Feels amazing. Fuck- feels so good.”

She cursed under her breath as you roughly rocked the palm of your hand against her clit. She was so sensitive and the feeling of you against her and inside of her was too much. Her moans got breathier, higher. Your fingers pumped faster, harder. You leaned back in Ellie’s lap to truly take in the sight of her.

Her hair straying, some sticking to the sheen of sweat coating her forehead. Her hips bucking up into you for more. The sounds of her moans and the way her cheeks flushed against the flutter of freckles.

You knew she was close by the way she clenched tightly around her fingers, beckoning you closer and closer. The sight made your throat feel dry and your panties damper by the second.

“Come on, be my cheerleader. Give it to me, Els.” Your voice wasn’t in Ellie’s ear this time but she heard you loud and clear. She fluttered against you and clenched harder than before as her face grew hotter. Her moan and curses slipped through her lips, falling off her tongue like she was waiting for this moment. The sound of her filling the room made you wetter each second.

“I’m your cheerleader. Always.” Ellie moaned out one last time before her face scrunched up in pleasure.

A flood of wetness enveloped around you but you didn’t halt the pumps of your fingers. Ellie was on the edge of overstimulation but she didn’t tell you to stop. The feeling of you inside her made her feel so complete, she didn’t want it to ever stop.

You eventually slowed, Ellie’s moans coming to a slow stop, ending in a breathy sigh. You pulled your fingers out of her. Before you fully pulled out of her boxers and denim, you slathered your fingers in her wetness. Ellie squirmed a bit, humming at the stimulation.

You smiled at the fucked out smile that was painted on her face. You were pretty sure you looked the same. You may not have came but seeing Ellie feel so good, you couldn’t help but feel like you did.

Your fingers slithered out of her pants, coming up to her smile. Her eyes peered up at you in confusion.

“Open, baby.” Her lips came to part and she sucked them till they shined with saliva. Humming around them as she felt your fingers lay against her tongue.

You were still on Ellie’s lap and the buckle of her jeans were still open. You could feel the bass of the music from downstairs and for the first time in a long time you weren’t thinking about the weight of being captain for something so stupid.

This was real. Ellie was real and you didn’t want to ever get off her lap. You weren’t going anywhere and Ellie knew that too.

Abby has only been your cellmate for a couple of days. At first she seemed agitated and argumentative. You'd learnt to only speak when spoken to, but something about Abby made you desperate to know more.

She gave short responses, likely not wanting to get tangled in any drama. But yesterday she'd opened up and you had talked for over two hours. Conversation drifted from the prison's worst meals to inmate gossip, and, unexpectedly to both of you, it settled on your lives before prison.

You'd told your past first, describing how you'd fallen in with the wrong crowd and done things you deeply regretted.

Abby listened with a deep intimacy. She caught every hesitation, every name that snagged your tongue, every memory you skimmed over before it dragged you back into a whirlwind of emotions.

Conversation eventually moved to her. She detailed how she'd tried to sneak a younger boy over the boarder. The boy, Lev, was in an unsafe household.

Her eyes shone for a moment before she glanced up at the ceiling, blinking the tears away.

"I don't regret helping him," she sputtered, "I just wish he'd made it somewhere safe."

You'd both gone to sleep after that. Or well, you fell asleep.

Abby lay awake, staring at the underside of the bunk above as she listened to your uneven breathing and the faint, incoherent mumbles that slipped from your sleep.

She cycled her memories of Lev, the image of the boy's face when they got caught burnt into her eyelids. Light tears traced the scar carved across her cheek before falling and tinting her pillow. She didn't wipe them away when no one was watching.

Abby's shoulders shimmer with a thin layer of sweat, her skin flush with exertion. A bead breaks free, tracing a slow path down the curvature of her arm before disappearing beneath the fabric of her orange tank top. The damp material clings to her back, moulding itself to the faint outline of her sports bra underneath.

You pretend to read another sentence. It doesn't process.

She drops from the doorframe and twists her body just enough to lock eyes with you.

It's obvious you've been gawking. Abby had felt the weight of your gaze prickling across her shoulders. Still, she didn't stop, didn't acknowledge it. She kept going, letting your eyes linger if they wished.

You break the eye contact almost immediately, heat flooding your cheeks as you force your attention back to the page.

Abby wipes her moist forehead with the hem of her top, revealing the sculpted stomach and soft blond happy trail beneath.

"Jane Austen," she blurts, making you jump.

"Pride and Prejudice is a classic, who's your favourite?"

Her question shakes around in your empty skull. You couldn't name one character.

Your eyes frantically search the page for a clue, settling on the first name you see.

"Jane is sweet," the shake in your voice surprises you.

"Yeah, she is. Might be cliché, but I've always loved Elizabeth best." Abby deepens her voice, "She trusts herself, her opinions and judgments. And she doesn't settle for less than she's worth. I… admire that."

Abby drops her top and you allow yourself to lock eyes with her.

"She reminds me of you," Abby mumbles, turning her focus to the apparently incredibly interesting floor.

"A bit," she follows up in an embarrassed plea to reverse her words.

"Really?" your smile once holding embarrassment twists into mischief. “So you admire me,"

"No," Abby snickers before pausing. She stares deep into your soul, seriousness coating over her features.

"You're not Elizabeth. You're definitely Mr. Collins."

You stare her down.

Who the fuck is Mr. Collins?

"I don't…" you pause, "know whether that's a good thing."

Abby lets out a weary chuckle, reaching back to massage the base of her neck that she's been whining about. "That just proves my point. Keep reading."

Embarrassment stains your cheeks.

Page 1. You've been rereading the same first paragraphs for the last couple of days.

You're both interrupted by the screeching sound of metal scraping against metal as the hatch of the food tray door slams open. Two trays of stale bread with an abnormally thick and cold soup slides through the hatch.

Another five-star fucking meal. Be lucky if I don't die from vitamin deficiency in here.

You try to force the soup down your throat, but the twist in your stomach rejects it. The bread is much more manageable.

You stuff the remaining bread in your mouth and enthusiastically toss the tray holding the soup across the floor.

The tray clatters loudly before coming to a stop beside Abby's foot.

She glances at the tray, then you.

"May I?" she asks.

"Be my guest," you say, resorting to playing with your fingers to pass the time.

Abby snatches the tray, sliding it to her side and dunking her bread into the thick soup. She guards the tray like a hungry lion, not that you'd want it back anyway.

"How do you eat that stuff?" you question, almost laughing out loud at her animalistic eating.

Abby gulps down her mouthful. "Reminds me of something my Dad used to make." She was already preparing her next bite.

"Wow, your Dad must've been a chef," a smirk tugs at your mouth.

Abby looks up at you with an unamused glare, but beneath it, pain flickers in her irises.

"No," is all she responds, her expression changing back so quickly you almost miss it entirely.

The smirk melts off your face in an instant, swallowed by the heavy silence consuming the cramped room.

You sit up from the floor and climb up to your bed, lying there until lights-out.

Abby savours every last bite with a delicate patience before crawling into her bed mere seconds before it switches black.

The cold evening air and pitch-black silence wraps around you. It should be the perfect sleeping conditions, but you can't get comfortable.

The bed creaks as you shift your weight from the left, to the right, to the middle, then back to the right.

Your toes wriggle, itching for movement.

You’re contemplating getting up and running laps around the tiny cell until you're exhausted, but your thoughts wander back to Abby.

Her arms curled, slick with her bodily oils. Her soft grunts and whimpers of athletic struggle.

The thoughts bundle and flow downward, settling in your lower abdomen.

You roll onto your back, earning another whine from the bed frame, and quietly slip your hand underneath your thin prison sweats. You’re especially careful not to slap the band of your underwear.

You press your lips together, repressing a whimper as your hand reaches your heat. You spread yourself open, your ring and middle finger already drenched in slick.

Your hand begins performing lazy, wide circles over your clit; the bed creaking as you raise your hips. You try to control your breathing, but soft moans and uneven breaths still escape your lips.

The circles turn more desperate, Abby's body flashing in between waves of pleasure.

You wonder if she's asleep or if you've woken her up.

You wish she would pop her head up over the ladder and climb onto the thin, firm mattress. She'd kiss down your stomach, looping her tongue around your clit. Her strong arms holding your thighs apart, even when you're squirming as your eyes flicker with stars. Her movements gentle yet vigorous with desire. Desire for you. To hold you, please you, worship you.

Your fingers slide into your cunt, but you imagine they're Abby's.

Your walls clench at the base of your fingers. You want so desperately to call out Abby's name, to bring the fantasy into reality.

You begin to find a rhythm, fingers curling at the perfect spot. Sweet noises are at the tip of your tongue, pleading to be released. You force your free hand over your mouth, muffling the whimpers.

Your breathing builds, your heart pounding out of your chest as you murmur broken pleas through your hushed lips.

The corners of your vision start to blur and crackle. Your eyes roll back as the pleasure consumes your body. The orgasm thrashes over you, your whole body convulsing and your limbs tingling.

You slowly come down from the high, your spine lowering back onto the bed.

You steadily remove your hand and gather yourself as you roll over for the final time before finally falling asleep.

As sleep begins to pull you under, your mind lingers on one thought:

How much did she hear… if she heard anything at all? What would she think if she did? Why do I even care?

Abby lay below, eyes wide.

She'd heard everything. The whimpers, the muffled moans, the slick sounds. She'd watched your bed frame move with every thrust and wave. She'd noticed what noises you made with the depth and rhythm of the thrust. How you'd worked yourself up and how you'd calmed yourself down.

Her legs are crossed, thighs impatiently grinding together.

She waits longer than you did. Long enough to be certain that you're asleep, deeply asleep. Then, and only then, she allows herself to take care of her desires.

She only rubs her heat for a couple of minutes before throwing her head back in a bliss. The thought of you, your release, it makes her crazy.

Abby didn't manage any sleep. She lies with her arms folded across her chest, her eyes wandering aimlessly around the cell, searching for anything that might distract her from the ache she refused to acknowledge.

You awake to the sound of the food trays being delivered through the door.

Abby has already been moving about, but she's waiting for you to start her workout. She could go to the courtyard and use the gym equipment, but it'd be no fun without you. The equipment is old and shitty anyway.

You climb out of bed, hair dishevelled and fingers still smelling of last night.

Abby's eyes stay on you for a beat too long. No greeting, just a stare.

Oh, she knows. She definitely knows. Fuck it, let her know.

You gulp down the thought, breaking eye contact first.

This morning you eat the shitty provided breakfast. Not because it tastes good, but because you're famished.

Abby throws you awkward glances, clearly disturbed by your hunger. She slides her tray over to you far more gracefully than you managed last night.

You look up at her over your full cheeks.

"I owe you anyway," is all Abby offers in explanation. You accept it.

Abby watches with a slight smirk as you devour both plates.

"What?" you ask teasingly, with an undertone of annoyance.

"Nothing," she represses her smile, "keep enjoying it, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

Heat flows up your neck. You don't hate it, but she can't know that.

She waits until you finish the food before starting her pull-ups.

You don't try to hide your wandering eyes today. She knows you're watching, admiring. It's becoming an unspoken routine.

Abby's top rides up every time she lowers herself and her grunts increase with each rep. Her arms begin to glisten with sweat, flexing with each motion.

Your stomach flips, the breakfast threatening to come back up. You almost need to chain yourself down to not go over there and ride her top up to explore all of her.

Once Abby finishes and sits by the wall, you climb back up to your bed.

You read for hours. Actually reading this time.

You comb through 137 pages of Pride and Prejudice. You now understood who Mr. Collins is, sparing a glance in Abby's direction before chuckling and rolling your eyes.

It's an intimate story about finding love, or what love meant to women in the early 1900s who needed to marry to survive.

It didn't strike you as Abby's taste; suppose she never fails to surprise you.

Another meal that you slid over to Abby and it was lights out again.

But you don't wait 15 minutes this time. Or more you can't.

Almost instantly after the lights flicker off, your hand is back where it needs to be.

Truthfully, you've been waiting for this release since you finished last night. Your slick has been staining your panties all day.

The thought of Abby's body makes you want to crawl on your knees begging for touch. Pathetically feral.

This time, you don't conceal your moans. You allow your free hand to play with your nipple under your bra, causing more choked moans to escape your lips.

The noises of your slick and the shake of the bed fill the room more prominently tonight.

Your pants are annoying you, limiting the angle you desperately need to reach. You slip them down and off your ankles, leaving your legs over the thin blanket.

You're pleasure is already building when you notice a different noise between your whimpers.

It's a softer voice that sounds as though it's holding back its natural volume. You also recognise familiar wet noises that aren't your own.

You abruptly stop masturbating but the noises continue from below.

"Abby—"

The noises stop, the cell falling silent. The air is polluted with warmth and sex.

There is no point lying or pretending nothing happened. You both know what each other was doing and why they were doing it.

You take a deep breath, "would you want to… come up here?"

Abby goes silent. She stiffens up, not knowing how to react.

Without her saying a word, you hear her slowly move off her bed and climb the short ladder up to the top bunk.

She stands at the top of the ladder. Her prison pants sit loose around her hips, stretching where her hand was just moments before. The crotch of her pants is vaguely damp.

She looks at you with a dazed glow. Her eyes meet yours, her pupils widening as they explore the flecks of colour swirling through your irises. Her gaze then wanders around your body, first landing on your tits that are outlined underneath your bright orange top. They then find your parted legs, your slick staining your underwear. Her gaze drifts back up to your lips, studying their shape and soft curves.

She slips into the bed, bracing herself above you with her arms planted on either side of your head. Then she leans down until her plush lips meet yours.

The kiss starts slow and delicate. Then it becomes messy. Abby tangles her tongue with yours, a soft moan echoing between your mouths.

One of Abby's hands starts exploring your waist, following the curvature and petting over your tummy.

Abby's mouth eventually shifts downward, never pulling away. The soft kisses move down your chin and jaw, stopping at your neck.

A choked exhale exits your throat as Abby sucks, hard. You feel Abby's mouth warp into a smirk as the skin starts to stain a flush fuchsia.

Abby pulls herself away, her plushy pink lips looking down at you. Her eyes glaze over your body, landing on your top.

"I don't like this," she exclaimes, stretching the fabric between her fingers before slapping it back down.

You sit up just enough to force the shirt and bra over your head, quickly examining the fabric before tossing it onto the floor below.

When you look back at Abby, her eyes are black. Her pupils are blown wide, her blue iris barely visible as she examines your soft perks.

"Better?" you tease.

Abby doesn't reply. She brings her hand up, cupping the bottom of your breast as her thumb starts to work your nipple.

You lay back down, adjusting yourself into a comfortable position on the bed. You want to absorb every moment of touch. The touch you'd been waiting so desperately for.

Abby begins to move herself lower, her legs hanging off the bed as she kisses down your stomach.

"Is this okay?" she asks.

"Mhm… mm," is all you can manage with your lungs that have seemingly forgotten how to perform their sole function.

Abby stops with her head above your stomach but her hand keeps travelling down. Her fingertips snake underneath the band of your underwear, reaching your unkempt hair. She parts the tangled mess and explores between your lips, rewarding her a soft hum. Her fingers are already damp with her own slick.

Abby lets out a low moan as she finds your entrance. She begins by slipping in one finger. Your walls desperately clutch around it, begging for more, deeper, faster. She does none of those, she begins a painfully slow and shallow rhythm.

"Ab—Abby," you break through, "more please."

Abby lets out a low chuckle.

"Not yet, sweetheart. You're too precious for me to rush through this."

You let out soft gasps and chokes. You're too desperate for this speed, your body is screaming for all of Abby.

Abby's eyes never leave yours, even when you squeeze them shut.

After what felt like an eternity, she slips in a second finger, keeping the slow pace but inching in slightly deeper.

Your body responds instantly, walls closing around Abby, back arching, and palms digging into the thin sheet.

You can feel your body beginning to match Abby's pace, your breath hitching more often and harder.

As your body starts to relish in the feeling, Abby pauses and slips in a third finger.

Your pussy stretches to match her length, a soft cry slipping through your lips.

You can feel Abby’s forearm muscles contracting with each thrust. Abby towers over you, her silhouette shadowing over you, even in the darkness.

"Just like that," she whispers.

Abby's words cause it to all flood over you. A wave of warmth and tension spreads from between your legs, absorbing every last inch of composure you held. You throw your neck backward, your moan of unadulterated pleasure fills the room.

Abby works you through every wave that thrashes over you. Holding you up.

Your body begins to slow down with each flush of pleasure. It eventually stops responding, only twitching and oversensitive.

Abby gently removes her fingers and scoots over to lie down next to you.

She wraps her big arm around you, softly stroking your now matted and frizzy hair away from your eyes. The tips of her fingers brush over your jawline, still warm with your sex.

"You okay?" she asks in a soft raspy voice, like she's the one who's just been screaming.

You nod softly, tingles spread through you at the movement. You're still so sensitive.

She reaches for the blanket, now lying in a crumpled heap against the wall, and drapes it over you.

"I've been wanting to do that since I got here," Abby whispers along your ear.

"Me too," you mumble, your voice little more than mush.

Abby swings a leg over you, her hand never leaving the corners of your face.

The rest of the evening is a jumble of Abby's breathing, the cold, and the bed's desperate creaks under the weight of two people.

You fell asleep like the flick of a light switch. The horny waves had worked like melatonin.

Abby sleeps through the night for the first time in weeks. She watched as you drifted off, admiring your untangled beauty. The warmth radiating from your body gently lulled her eyes shut.

You awake the next morning to find her staring.

You offer her a sleepy smile, her constant eye contact flipping your stomach.

The moment is broken by the arrival of your 'breakfast'.

If the staff saw you two like this or, god forbid, found out about last night…

You force your aching hips up. Light red spots tint your neck. Evidence.

"They'll separate us if they find out," you state the obvious to Abby.

"Mhm," the husky mumble causes your heart to skip a beat. "It'll be our little secret, then."

𝑎/𝑛: you have no idea how tempted i was to make abby fall off the bed in the end. and no, i don’t know any other exercises apart from pull ups. also, i haven’t read pride and prejudice in ages so sorry for how vague that part is. i feel like i'm starting to understand what i need to improve on (e.g. showing the emotions not telling them: immersion). i think i like my first fic better than this one so i appreciate any feedback :)

rugby player!vi whom you later do send a message to. an innocent, little ‘hey’. she doesn’t ask who it is— vi just knows. the conversation starts off innocent enough… up until vi suggests playing a game of truth or dare. you’d think truth would save you from any embarrassing dares, but her questions are far, far from innocent.

‘what do you think about when you touch yourself?’

‘weirdest kinks?’

‘lets voicecall sometime ;)’

honestly, it makes you curious just what makes her so full of herself. you’ve heard about her around campus, of course, but is she really as good as the other girls say?

you try to get vi back by daring her to snap a pic of herself. you expect a mirror pic. maybe one with her arms flexed and biceps bulging. you don’t expect a selfie from the neck down, hand and forearm doing a shit job at covering her pierced nips.

rugby player!vi who eventually takes you on a date. a real one. she isn’t able to pick you up at your house, of course, but hey— she takes you out to see a horror movie, then drags you both to a fancy enough diner that doesn’t just serve greasy shit. she pays for everything, though still teases her way into getting a kiss by the end of it.

“enjoyed yourself?” vi asks, leaning the driver’s seat back. she doesn’t pat her thighs, but she does make a show of spreading her legs to make room for you.

you’d be angry at her if you didn’t know what you were getting into. but you do. if you weren’t interested at all, then you wouldn’t have even saved her number, and you certainly wouldn’t have reacted with a heart emoji to her titty pic.

“movie was shit,” you shrug, kicking your shoes off to comfortably crawl over the armrest and settle yourself on vi’s lap. she grunts with a grin, splaying her palms over your hips. “dinner was good enough. a shame you didn’t let me get dessert.”

“didn’t i?” vi pouts, head tilting. “you’re sitting right on it.”

she’s so, so corny— you’d puke if she didn’t have the looks to make up for it. but vi does, and the way her mouth works over yours once you two kiss is clearly good for more than just cheesy flirting. but unlike every story you’ve heard about going out on a date with vi, you don’t fuck. her hand hadn’t even made it under your shirt, even.

rugby player!vi who begins inviting you to the parties she hosts. they’re not messy, but they are huge. vi, however, keeps you tucked to her side all the time. many tease her about how her head’s not between a girl’s legs halfway into the evening, but she ignores them. she doesn’t get drunk, but she does get tipsy.

she’s got you backed up against the wall in some hallway. her hair tickles your chin as she peppers kisses over your throat, hands squeezing down your sides.

“vi!” a yelp of her name escapes you when she squeezes your backside, and you smack her arm with a laugh.

“what?” you can feel the grin on her lips as she hums against your neck, and she works her way back up to your face with more kisses. “you look pretty tonight, sweetheart.”

“that’s what you tell every girl.”

“no, i don’t.”

rugby player!vi whom you begin to date in secret. the campus knows, of course. but your father doesn’t. he doesn’t find it weird how you’re suddenly there for every game. vi has to fight back from trotting where you’re at on the bleachers after she wins every game, but you two end up celebrating in secret later on.

rugby player!vi who fucks you in the locker rooms. after everyone leaves, she drags you inside and presses you up against the wall. she’s sweaty— the jersey you take off lands with a wet splat on the concrete floor. she does the same for your sweater and bra, and after her own sports bra follows, your breasts press together as she brings you two into a kiss.

“fuck, baby,” vi groans as she shoves a hand down your jeans after unbuttoning them, cupping your mound to palm your sex over the thin, damp fabric. “you this wet over watching me play? scream at the other players?”

“uh-huh…”

of course you are. watching her crash against other players with grunts, seeing every flex of her thighs as she rolled in the grass… there’s nothing more attractive than seeing her in that state. when she loses, she needs release. thankfully for you, her team’s lost tonight’s match.

your hands settle on vi’s shoulders with a whine as she slides a finger into your dripping cunt, and she swallows the sound by slotting her lips against yours. she works you open with her fingers— so very loose from how easily you relax under her minisitrations that every pump of her digits is audible in the room. you work your jeans down eventually for more comfort, and vi takes the opportunity to remove her hand and carry you to one of the benches. the wood creaks under your combined weights as she sets you down on your back.

vi doesn’t speak much when she’s frustrated. you know that much now.

as soon as her hands are on your hips and her face between your legs, her tongue flattens over your slit she’s exposed with her fingers. your head thumps back against the bench, and your fingers tangle in her hair to keep her face flush against your sex. vi has no complaints about that— she fucks you with her tongue for a while before sealing her mouth over your neglected and puffy clit instead. she sucks, keeping your hips pinned to keep you from writhing as much as possible as she knocks an orgasm from your body.

rugby player!vi who sneaks into your bedroom through your window like some romcom movie. you try not to laugh as she damn near slips while climbing the wall, but she eventually does manage to slip inside. she’s, unfortunately, not very silent about it, but your father down the hall is quite the heavy sleeper. that’s not to say you two could make a sound…

vi’s on top of you, bare from the neck down. one of her breasts is cupped by your hands, and every time you tease a nipple with a flick or pinch, she jerks forward and bites her tongue.

you’re not doing any better. one of your legs is laid flat on the bed, though the other is kept raised in the air in an angle to allow vi’s body to fit between them— and more importantly, for her to fight just the right angle. a mutual groan is shared between you both once your clits press against each other. vi drops her head as she begins to roll her hips slightly, never too aggressively as to not miss the mark each time.

Fuck, she knew you were trouble ever since Issac brought you into the base. What the hell was he even thinking, treating a Scar like one of their own— like a Wolf? Even with the saccharine story of you, an "apostate" that oh so kindly helped Issac and Owen when they were in an ambush, she didn't buy that shit.

Issac brought you in there, seeming all wounded and terrified. Your display of weakness had to be a fucking act. You didn't get those scars on your face from being scared, you got them by proving your bravery and worth to the Seraphites. That's why you had them.

Maybe that same bravery brought the two of you like this.

Abigail was the same as you, in one way or another; a stubborn fucker. You didn't like each other, didn't want to like each other, and that caused trouble. Manny had once joked that, maybe if you'd train enough, you'd be on Abby's level. That riled her up, absurdly so.

She hadn't trained for years for someone like you to get compared to her!

Well, all this back and forth of shooting dirty looks across rooms, switching the position of certain training equipment just to give the other trouble finding it and cutting the lunch line, caused you to break. You've had enough.

Sure, you hated Anderson's guts, maybe even more than she hated yours, but this childish behaviour was starting to get on your nervers. You confronted her on a rather uneventful evening, right in the gym where you knew she'd be.

The argument spurred and bubbled to a boil quickly. She called you a disgusting Scar that manipulated her way into the WLF to get information, you called her sick in the head for taking that man's life— you didn't even know his name, just some old guy that you heard one of Abby's friend run their mouth about. That was Abigail's breaking point.

She shoved you. Hard, rough hands straight into your shoulders. Your nails shot out and gripped her braid tight, slightly tilting her head to the side with the pressure of the tug.

"Fuck you!" Abby had grunted.

You huffed in response, dry and humourless. "Yeah? Fuck me? Fuck you, Abby!"

Then... everything became a blur of teeth against teeth, lips overbearing one another. She kissed you first? You kissed her? Who pushed who into the bathroom? It didn't fucking matter. The tension had been suffocating, building over months of silent anger, and it just all poured over the edge. You two took the fucking too seriously.

"Shit!" Abigail moaned, long and deep in the back of her throat. Her fingers were mirroring your earlier pull, nails digging in the top of your scalp to try and keep you there, buried between her legs.

Anyone could walk in, really, but she couldn't bother herself enough to care. Her eyes were focused on your face, on how your eyebrows were stuck in a furrow even now, how the start of your scars, going from your mouth to your cheekbones, were glistening with spit and her arousal.

"You cumming?" You muttered against her clit, each word sending a spark down her legs, making her thighs spasm.

"No–" She panted, all flushed and dazed. She didn't want it to end. Didn't want you to stop being so... annoyed. "Not yet."

She pressed your head deeper into her legs, muffling any further words you might've been wanting to say. Tongue pressed flat against her clit, your fingers found their way towards her entrance, teasing her with just the tip of your index.

"Just fucking put it in already." She whispered, raising the hem of her shirt and watching your eyes trail over her hardened abdomen.

With a grunt, you pulled away to press a kiss to one of her defined abs. "I thought I was a disgusting Scar. Are my hands not disgusting enough for you now?" Your voice was smug as you slapped her thigh, making her open her legs.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Touché. "Please."

With a sigh, half irritated and half amused, you complied. Not a lot of people managed to get Anderson to say 'please'— yet you did it. How could you not fulfil her request now?

Abby's knuckles flew to her mouth, teeth digging into her skin and leaving marks as she tried to keep herself silent. Your fingers were good. Better than her own even, and Abby had to admit that she thought she was pretty good at pleasing herself. "Oh, God,"

"Don't talk about Gods now." You scowled, plunging them deeper inside of her. "Nobody's gonna hear your prayers in this bathroom." Her eyes rolled back, and that scowl of yours turned into a smirk when you went back to suck her clit.

The poor thing was red and swollen, throbbing with Abby's nearing orgasm, and your tongue did little in soothing it. Hell, Abby swore she was lightheaded from... everything she was feeling. The tightness coiled in her stomach, the heat of your mouth on her, the tiles of the bathroom shower pressed against her back.

Fingers curling inside of her, your eyes locked onto Abigail's face in hopes to gauge her reaction. Her mouth fell open in a silent moan, and only then you noticed how her bottom lip was raw; probably from muffling herself. Shit, for how long have you been eating her?

"You taste so fucking good," Your voice was quiet now.

"So I've been told." She panted. "Don't think you're special for this. I've slept with people before, and they made me cum better–"

You bit the inside of her thigh, the tender skin there trembling.

Abigail gasped. "What the fuck was that for?!" Her words were followed by a whimper.

"To shut you up. Either you let me finish this, or you can go and let those people you're talking about make you orgasm."

Her eyes trailed from up the ceiling down to your narrowed eyes, seeing the heat beneath your glare. She could almost laugh; if it weren't for the moan escaping her lips, she would've giggled. "You're jealous."

"I'm not." You hissed, pulling your fingers completely out of her before slamming them back inside. "Can you take a third?"

She nodded. Slowly, you worked up a third finger and used your thumb to rub her, wanting to be able to see her face fully. Anderson was breaking, and fuck, it was the most arousing thing you'd ever witnessed— the most feared Wolf, at the mercy of your thrusts. You licked her slickness off of your own mouth.

Abigail's legs were shaking, barely able to hold herself upright anymore— the burn of your fingers stretching her was even more satisfying than when she'd push herself in the gym, leaving her muscles sore.

"You're fluttering,"

"I'm so close." She let out an airy groan, breaking half-way through and turning into a squeak. Of course her voice had to crack in a moment like this.

Abby's hand clutched your wrist, the one that was slightly cramping with the awkward position it was in to finger her, and began grinding. Gentle, deep moves of her hips.

This time, you couldn't hold back a moan of your own. "Fuck, Anderson..." You watched her puffy pussy glide across your hand, wet squelches obscenely louder than your words. "Move faster."

She obliged. Her teeth dug into her lower lip, eyes fluttering close. "Shit– cumming, I'm cummin',"

The sweetest little noise tore from her, and with that, your hand got drenched. Wetness coated her thighs, dripping down her skin and soaking into her jeans. "God, you're fucking gorgeous." You whispered breathlessly, wrapping your arms around her legs and bringing her to sit down.

"Don't talk about God." She repeated your earlier words, voice barely audible over her panting. With only one glance at her state; Abby saw that she looked like she pissed her pants. Well, thankfully you two were in the bathroom... she could just say that the shower sprayed her.

You gently pulled out of her, licking her off of your fingers before standing up. "You'll be good on your own?"

"Yeah... yeah." She muttered.

"Don't tell anyone about this." You glanced at her over your shoulder before heading for the door.

"Wait–" Abby sighed, patting herself dry with the towel she had brought on the way. "Aren't you gonna... I don't know, stay with me for a little?"

"Sorry, I can't," You answered, a bitter smile on your face. It stretched those ugly scars that Abigail hated. "Wolves don't need Seraphites." That was all you said before leaving.

Abby grit her teeth so hard she felt her jaw tense up, throwing her used towel at the towel. You were such a fucking bitch. She knew she was wrong to have acted on an impulse, that it would only cause her trouble later on, yet she did it anyway; now who was the loser who couldn't even enjoy the post-euphoria of her orgasm? Her. Of course it had to be her.