°˖✧˚ Fernbruises' Recs - Blog Posts

pov: college!AU where u fail your exam but ellie’s a fucking dickhead

random ass A/N: i need more writer moots.

★ cupid carries a gun.

open up your skull, i'll be there climbing up the walls.

cw # 18+ mdni, modern au, mentions of marijuana, dealer+loser!ellie, blink and you miss a slight pervert behavior, sub!reader, switch!slightdom ellie, pussyslapsyum, pet names, fingering, public sex.

an # if you recognize this it may be because it's from my previous account aka @vicorices who got deleted out of nowhere, this is me trying to get all my work back up again cause i'm not losing three months of work thanks to a shitty team who wiped me out of the internet.

the first time she saw you, she called you bro by accident.

it happens unexpected. ellie's been selling weed for a while now and she's used to get random text messages from unknown numbers: a friend of a friend, a recommendation from some old client — of course when she got your text you're not going to receive special treatment, not when she greets you like she would greet a guy, asking you where to meet since the club's big.

you're friends with cat, that's how you got her number. your usual provider is being insane with ridiculous prices you cannot afford not even by chance, so you're searching for someone else, a reliable source you can buy your weed from without getting into much trouble.

she’s perfect for the job.

it's a surprise either way when you tell her to meet you close to the main stairs in the first floor, and you think you saw her by the time you get there, but before you can approach your phone lights up with a new notification from an unknown number you now recognize.

you like it, making them think you’re a man, confuse the people you buy weed from. it's funny cause it's not the first time it happens, matter of fact, it's really common as you approach the auburn haired girl, noticing she's far less intimidating than your last seller, less tattoos on the face to instead, be covered in freckles and green eyes.

and to ellie — it's clear you aren't a bro too.

you don't pay much attention since it's a quick interaction, but to ellie its enough to make her spiral. too much weed, too much booze that night made her look at you like you're most beautiful girl out there, barely illuminated by the sporadic lights that changes time to time as you approach to her in a nice top of a band she also hears.

"hey. sorry to make you wait" you're too kind to her rough heart, yet from up close she's able to look at your face properly: where the fuck did you know cat from? why she hadn't seen you before too? was she hiding you from her?

"ellie," she presents herself like you do and she's almost a little shy to ask you to walk with her to a less crowded space, cause it sounds different from when she usually asks, slapping herself mentally for being so lame when she meets a pretty girl in a situation like this: don't be a fucking pussy. "do you mind if we move to a quieter place?"

"no, no problem" you reply "i was going to ask you the same, actually. don't want to get kicked out from here."

and you must be really trustful person, cause ellie could be a bad person and you're following her willingly, entering a dirty, small bathroom only to lock the door beneath her not really knowing her true intentions. you know she's not going to do anything when she's nervously speaking to you as the space got way reduced.

"so, you're friends with cat" what's she even doing? trying to pull off some small talk she sucks for? either way your nodding as ellie gives you a small bag with an smiley face on it, letting you see the weed she's going to sell you out first — "you study here in this university?"

"yeah, it’s my last year" you say inspecting the weed with a pleased look, sure you're buying when you take a deep breath and it seems like actual weed and not a fucking rock so tight it seems it came in somebody's ass, good smell, some purple there between different shades of green "film school."

"sick," she looks at you for a moment since you're too busy looking at the product. under the white lights ellie can see the details on your face now, the small moles, the scars, things she wasn't aware of as she wasn't so close as she is now — "it's okay? you like it?"

“smells real good, my last supplier was pretty shit and always had the same strain" you find her concern cute, sure she must take pride in selling good stuff, maybe that's why cat shared her number so reluctant to it, you'd gatekeep a good dealer too.

“that’s lemon haze” ellie explains as a subtle layer of red spreads right over her nose, must be the weather inside the bathroom or something like that, but it's hot as she stares at your eyes and she's betting you must be thinking she's the weirdest girl in the planet. her flannel's too fucking tight, too thick. "it's a nice sativa, wont leave you stupid nor like a hungry animal."

girls like you may be out of her league, but even when ellie's brain saying the same, it does not matter when your fingers brush against hers and you're laughing at her bad joke, giggling like she's oh so funny and it's enough. it may be a tactic she's falling all the way in when saying a lower price than regular and your eyes widen cause you don't believe it: why would such a good quality be cheaper than the usual shit?

"you study in this university too?" you curiously ask as if you're trying to catch the trick, clever girl. she’s selling you cheaper to secure you.

"forensic science" you seemed a bit surprised by it since you didn't talk much to stem girls in general, being in two different fields: hot— "it’s my last year too."

"that sounds cool, never met someone who study that," you say as you're pulling out 20$ for at least 3 grams of top-graded-weed: she's fucking stupid for selling that quality for less than $30 "well nice to meet you ellie, if i don't get poisoned with your weed, you'll be definitely hearing more from me."

and she wants to say something flirty, something with her usual witty charm and her sarcastic replies she loves by heart, but instead of saying something clever, ellie ends up stuttering, tripping in her own words as she nods.

"i- uh- yes sure. save my contact and text me anytime."

fuck it, cause it does get her to know you'll be talking to her again someday, maybe this week, maybe the next, tomorrow. her weed is hella good and her own brain is feeding her delusions cause as far as she knows you might as well be the biggest heterosexual girl in university, but you're there waving her goodbye with a warm smile and your perfume lingers in the air for a while even when you're not there.

so ellie stays in the cubicle for a minute. the longest minute of her life when she takes a deep breath at the scent, discovering the fruity notes, the damn strawberries sweet as ever now impregnated under her nose.

fucking cat cause she must have kept you all to herself, pure selfish reasons — ellie thought they were in good terms.

it's crazy to say she would've done the same if you were her friend too.

the second time ellie sells you weed you're talking with your friends seated in a secluded spot of the main quad and the sun hits your skin just in the correct way to make her mouth go dry.

you're using this straight sinful sundress in blue and white, covering from the fresh air in a denim jacket and it looks so good she needs to check you actually messaged her in the first place and didn't imagined the whole thing.

she politely greets everyone but her attention drifts back to you when ellie's sitting close like you're friends with her before the people you’re hanging out with.

"was it good?" she asks, blatantly checking you out you're resting over your elbows, letting the exposed parts of your body fill out with vitamin d after being trapped in class for what it seems an eternity, and ellie feels trapped too, slightly different cause she's experiencing the victorian era on the flesh when only a glimpse of your ankles is enough to kill her — "guess it was if you're texting to meet up again."

"yeah, seems like you got the best weed in the whole place" you laugh, each time warming up to her as you reply under a pair of black shades that make you look so fucking attractive: her weed, the best. "good job, ellie."

awfully good price. outstanding for you, only loses for her.

the third time, you're meeting her outside class and her friends joke calling you her girlfriend as ellie quickly walks away hoping you didn't hear them: do you talk to her about dinosaurs too, williams? you're too polite to say you find it cute.

by the fifth time you're on her car and the silence is so damn loud as the music sound softly in the speakers, some song you say you like as ellie turns up the volume so you can hear it better. you're humming to the tune, a two-minute song as she pretends to be searching for the weed on her bag, taking more time on purpose.

"are you going to take the same three grams or you feel generous this time?"

"no, just three" you reply to her question. you've become quite aware of her consistent gaze on you now after weeks of selling you grass, personally giving you the best, making the moment linger without you noticing until you actually do catch on her subtle tactics— "that way i can text sooner and see you again this week."

ellie’s clueless most of the days but with that? anyone would notice you're flirting, blatantly as you look up to her and your dealer struggles to resist the need on her hands to pin you against the passenger seat and lean all over the console to go on and kiss you until you clearly state what you want. no playing around the bushes this time. demand, as her stomach turns, what do you mean by that.

do you want to see her more? that's why you buy three grams and talk to her every three or four days? are you, by any chance, not straight?

“if you want to see me during the week, you might just ask” ellie says mirroring your tone “like you ask to buy weed from me, s’not that hard.”

you’re the one who's nervous now, and she considers on giving you the weed as a gift before you’re paying. loses, you only mean loses in her economy at this point — and it's driving her hella mad when you get out the car and ellie’s left there with the need to have you as closer as you possibly agree to.

silk fabric slipping through her fingers.

the sixth time, ellie decides she's going to do something about it. about her needs. there’s no actual way you’re not flirting with her, the image of you in the passenger seat still sealed freshly on her mind even if it was a week ago, repeating it over and over again — you got her staring at your profile pic, debating if she can or cannot masturbate with the pictures you’ve shared on instagram from spring break in fucking california, liking your post cause it’s the only way she dares to interact, a way of saying she’s there.

in the middle of a saturday night, thinking about you. two in the morning and it’s all fucking you.

she should make up her mind. you’re a good buyer, and she wishes to keep it that way. you don’t ask for later payments, you constantly buy and don't share her number with weirdo friends like everyone else does, you're a reliable source surely: so why does her heart stops in her chest cavity when her phone's buzzing and ellie's reading the name she saved your contact with?

right. her pathetic crush on you.

her fingers move on their own before she considers to delay her response five minutes to seem busy.

she wont charge you double.

shit. it's two in the morning and she's selling you weed driven by the desire to see you again, using this gray hoodie to protects herself from the cold autumn breeze as she's pulling up to this party totally uninvited, passing the open door like it's her own house as zeta phi seems to be fully loaded now as the music sound loud and strident as all her hopes of catching you alone goes to the trash can.

no she’s not going to charge you double, she’s just guilty she’s so into you without you having any idea of it.

where you waiting for her arrival? fuck. her brain is acting up like a backstabbing bitch and ellie cannot help it as you appear radiant under a sea of people. you're not saying a word either when you're lacing your fingers with her's and you're pulling on your dealer upstairs, feet moving on their own as she don't make a single effort to resist your magnet-like influence in her very self.

ellie’s hand are sweaty cause she's so fucking nervous but you don't seem to care about it, looking back at her from over your shoulder only to offer a smile she cannot wrap her head around for a moment.

"can i ask where you're taking me?" she questions you, hoping her voice doesn't sound like that really, so strained and rough from just see you around — "or am i your hostage now?"

"we need a more private space to buy" you state like it's obvious "duh, the rooftop's empty. i stole the key."

ellie should've know you were a walking hazard.

cause it really seems like an achievement when you're opening the rooftop door, mischief grin as you look twice behind your back paranoid as ever someone can see what you're doing; and ellie chuckles at the sudden adventure, how you're closing the door when you invite her to step in with a subtle head movement, quickly shoving the key back to the pocket in your skirt.

cute. she thinks you’re cute.

it's empty like you said, and the knowledge makes every hair on her arms stand on their own even when she's wearing this thick hoodie that protects her from the cold.

"cannot risk my dealer of getting in trouble down there" you explain now that you can talk to her at a decent volume, and she fully eats it even when it's a clear lie and you're making up excuses to get her away from the noise.

"very kind, gonna name you my knight in shinning armor if you keep this up."

you're panting the spot right next to you as you take a seat in the over-used lounge chair with a tiny wooden table in front of it, and like a trained animal, ellie follows cause it's the perfect spot to leave her backpack as her brain keeps buzzing at the name you used to call her seconds before— my dealer.

she is, by all means, your dealer. it makes her chest fill out with a different kind of emotion, sound so fucking intimate, so nice.

"gonna buy the usual three grams, princess?" your knee brushes against her, and ellie's breathing hitches cause you're wearing this black-sheer stockings all the way to your upper thigh and she becomes aware of it when the material slips down as you're seated, skirt raising slightly upwards against the muscles of your legs: one movement and she swears she'd be able to see your underwear and ellie has to once again, remind herself how you quickly reduce her to this behavior; this state, shoved in a sea of pure filth — "or did you just call me because you wanted to see me tonight?"

she's feeling lucky tonight even when she never feels that way, a strike of confidence ellie feels as a rush on the blood: you give her a sight of your legs and now she's all over the damn place? loser behavior.

"is it that obvious?" you want her to kiss you. it's a need that installs deep down in your chest, and if you're not making it obvious by then you're definitely doing it now: you're not straight, you're not bulletproof to the holes her eyes make on your skin every time you have the pleasure to be left alone in her company, you're not giving up on this constant game of seduction you like to play "i'm buying weed too, so coming up here actually matters for you."

"haven't we state that already?" ellie asks, looking up to you as she drinks in the sight of you under the almost invisible light of the stars up in the sky "if you want to see me during the week-"

"might as well just ask" you completed for her as ellie grabs her bag so she can pull your weed from it. the best three grams she has in her power "i know that- thank you."

"it's a gift" she finally dares to say it now — "don't pay me this time."

has she ever felt this way before? never. the overwhelming pull, the reminder you're not her's? stings on ellie's skin like tiny needles. it's not a big deal, once again she's losing money all reckless, but fuck- it's worth it, worth it when ellie see you malfunction for a long moment, brain short-circuiting cause you don't expect it.

"that's not the deal."

"i don't care what our deal is, you're my best client, and i take care of my clients” it’s simple as she says it “sides. the weed does not matter, seeing you was payment already.”

"don't go yet," you add before she's making a movement to get up, hands cold wrapping around her arm as you pull her down to the lounge chair you're so comfortably seated — "smoke with me. let's talk for a while."

and she knows it's dangerous, but you're batting your eyelashes, looking at her with this sly smirk on your face she wants to kiss away and ellie has no option but to stay there buried in your side, your fingers still tight against her arm muscles as you make her stay.

"okay, but i need you to let go of me baby- i can't roll a joint with you all over."

liar.

she just want to see you get all flustered because of her as her fingers swiftly roll a joint without much effort, allowing the smoke to fill the air seconds after before you’re sneezing and she notices how you shiver on her side, turning her face to look back at your pretty face she’s been avoiding to stare so much.

"you cold?" she asks, and you do not want to admit it, but ellie's taking her hoodie off and it's a fucking sight when she's wearing this white tank top she does not care about until she can physically feel the shift of the air between you and her, caught up with your eyes checking her out as she lights up the joint.

"thank you," and for being a stoner, it's smells surprisingly nice as you relish on the warmth of it, comfortable now as you watch her smoke "i'll gave it to you downstairs."

"go home with it. you're going to catch a cold like this."

the silence it's imminent for a moment before she's passing you the joint an you're holding it between your fingers.

"i like your tattoo" is it also an excuse? not really, but ellie's bringing her arm closer to you as she's showing it under the flashlight of her phone cause she likes it too, showoff — "can i touch it?"

any other time she'd be denying it mumbling something stupid about hating random people to go on and touch her scarred arm but you're not a random girl. so she's whispering a barely audibly yes, and your fingertips are tracing the pattern etched on her skin, taking your time in doing so.

"it suits you," you praise as you touch, and she's fucking melting there under simple caresses, under something so simple as your fingers tracing her inked flesh, invisible shapes as you just want to keep your hand on her "did it hurt too much when you got it done?"

"yeah, sort of" it's not really like she's trying to sound cool, in all honest, she's just trying to be coherent now as you keep touching her skin as you smoke. invested in questions she's answering in full auto-pilot.

you're high after a while, and it's her weed that makes you look like that. half lidded, a lazy smile on your lips as you keep talking to her, red eyes, slower than ever: shit. she'd devour you all.

“have you ever shotgunned smoke into someone’s mouth?” you ask curiously, and the question comes out of nowhere as you stare at her blowing the smoke, a warmth creeping upon her neck as she notices the way you’re staring at her, ellie’s blushing.

selling you weed and not be able to get high with you every single time must be named one of the most horrible crimes in humanity.

“when i was like, 17?" ellie replies thinking for a moment "i dunno, thought it was the hottest thing ever- have you?”

“no, not really."

and to be fair, ellie's high too. she's testing a new strain with you and the words roll out of her tongue so easily she has no time to regret it, not when you're looking at her like you want her to get handsy there in a damn lounge chair, to hell if it’s in the middle of nowhere or not.

“want me to do it for you?” she asks, a gentleman as usual “i’ll gladly be the first.”

it takes a moment for you to consider it before your voice is all low and husky — "mhm."

“come here then miss,” ellie says using a finger to call you out, the joint already on her lips before she takes a long drag — “sit on my lap and open your mouth f’me.”

it's devastating.

your weight on top of her, your ass in her leg as she can see again, those transparent sheer stockings that must be damn useless against the cold, and her hand rest on your upper thigh there where she looked before.

you're so obedient. your skirt is a sinful invitation to touch further, and you're parting her mouth for her so she can get closer, and as she smokes, ellie does get closeto you. closer than she’s ever been — more than the car, the bathroom in the party she met you, mere inches before she's shotgunning the smoke in your parted lips and you're smoking from the same weed that was in her lungs.

"17-years-old ellie was right" you reply, not really moving to give her space as ellie's fingers squeeze your leg like a reminder you're there still, sated on your dealer's lap, her hands on you — "it is the hottest thing ever."

it's almost a chronicle of a death foretold, cause ellie's kiss does not surprise you at the slightest. it's demanding and sloppy cause she's high, you're high, and she's a victim of this force she cannot escape near you.

so she keeps on kissing you until your lips are swollen and you're simply there, slowly wanting more, squeezing your legs together cause you don't want to be a slut now — no. you don't want her to know you're soaking over a few kisses, at ellie's fingers pulling on your high stockings down till they are no longer there anymore.

"you're a fucking menace" she says between kisses, breathing heavier now by the seconds: ellie already noticed— "a menace to me, to my weed and my economy, you know that? how you make me sell out my stuff at half the price cause i want you as my secured client?"

despite her words, she's pushing you closer to her so you can feel her rib cage pressed against you, the goosebumps you produce just from being close to her, red lips and messy hair.

"it’s your loss ellie, cause i'd pay for the full price."

"mmhm well shit, you're really lucky cause you do give damn good kisses" she murmurs, fingers toying with the hem of your skirt now and she has the damn audacity to keep on smoking cause she's now confident on her effect, how you’re all affected by her touch — "and if you give damn good kisses, i'm betting all my money that you have an even better pussy for me."

the sounds you're making? fuck. she’s creaming her panties already when you're letting her touch you so freely and it’s not near enough.

"what is it going to be then, huh?" she asks curiously, her mouth already following the path down to your collarbone, your cleavage before she’s taking her time in leaving red-purplish hickeys there hidden beneath her own gray hoodie "should we make it to our seventh selling or you're going to let me play with your needy cunt as a much deserved reward?"

shit. shit. shit. you're so fucking wet when you're parting your legs further apart to give her a nice view of your underwear, a damp spot already there between your legs who’s enough to make her mouth water with the thought of burying her face between your thighs, intoxicate with the smell you're emanating and she feels already under her nose.

good fucking girl. she wants to praise you, let you know you're doing a great job there letting your skirt roll up to your stomach, so easy to get rid of it ellie's sure you did it on purpose now so she can let her hand slip between your legs to feel how soaked you are.

your cunt makes this sound when her finger’s taunting you she just happens to love, and your underwear clings to your pussy lips, hips buckling up to meet her fingers already wanting more.

greedy.

"shh-" she tries to reassure you — "you're comfortable there baby? want you to feel good when i touch you yeah? you'll let me know anything cause you're my well-behaved girl, aren't you? my best client here.”

ellie’s making you shake her head, coaxing you to say out loud you are comfortable there, ass in her lap, spread legs as her fingers push against the fabric right against your entrance, noticing how the cotton soaks at the motion.

"look at you all desperate" she chuckles — "have you been thinking about this a lot like i do?"

her fingers pull on your underwear to the side and there it is: glistening cunt, swollen lips and neglected clit that's just begging to be touched, filled, discovered by her hands, her mouth, tongue. nothing she fucking wants more.

who she is to ever deny anything to you? to stop selling you weed? the joint falls to the ground now as she's using her entire hand to touch you, fingers rubbing against your minor and mayor labia, circling against your engorged clit as you arch your back and she has to use force to keep you still, taking what she has to give like a champ.

"you're fucking soaked-" there's a slap sound that fills the air, and even when there's people in the garden they don't seem to hear your whimpers as her hand comes in contact with your pussy and she's slapping it once again, just enough to apply some pressure in your clit, just enough to make your legs shake "so responsive to me, gonna let me stuff this cunt full tonight? fucking finally huh? you've been haunting me like no one else."

and you giggle, giggle cause you cannot fucking believe it: fucking your dealer? are you so for real right now? you're deep under a cloud of haze you're unable to control, disheveled state when your skirt is all the way to up and your underwear being pulled to the side at her mercy and you can only answer:

"yes- ngh yes please ellie."

"shit- your clit is all puffy baby, all needy for me."

you're squeezing her already so hard when she’s working on you. a wet schlick that fills the air and combined with your incoherent words of praise and moans will send her to the grave.

ellie’s knuckles-deep and fuuuck. you're so tight she needs to ask if you're doing right, cunt engulfing her' fingers until there’s no more and she's curling them right to the spot so you don't care about the drunk fucks in the garden anymore, about anyone who can hear whats going on in an empty rooftop.

ellie’s using a hand to keep your legs spread when your free will collapses like paper cards, pulling them apart only to add a third finger in your used hole and reduce you to pieces now, clenching tight as she rubs on that special spot inside and you're mumbling something about feeling so full, so good with her inside.

"this pussy must be made for me baby, fits me like a fucking glove," ellie’s doubling her efforts, her palm colliding against your clit, fingers thrusting against the right spot over and over — "gonna let me see your pretty face when you cum? i know you're close."

you are. fuck you so are. your movements are erratic, your legs shake, and ellie's kissing on your shoulder, leaving a path of wet kisses on the exposed skin on your neck, biting on your earlobe, anywhere she can get.

"i can't-" you cry out, moving yourself in quick, sharp movements, it’s overwhelming — "fuck i can't hold no more-"

"let go" she replies, holding you tightly against her body — "let go. i got you."

it's hot. messes up ellie's jeans with a damp mark on them, turning the fabric darker when you finally cum and you're gushing on her fingers, leaking through trembling legs.

"fuck yes. drench me like that," your dealer moans, stealing a kiss from your parted lips, keeping the last glimpses of air in your lungs for her benefit "use me, baby, don't stop."

ah. ellie's in trouble after all, cause it don't seem she’ll be selling weed to you now. not when she's mixing business with pleasure and she's making you bend against the top rail of the old lounge chair cause she's not able to wait any longer to lick you clean until you have no other choice but to cum again.

truth be told she once heard cupid's cruel, but she didn't believe it fully, not until now since ellie knows, first hand — the little fucker shoots to kill.

ELLIE AT THE MALL HC

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ def speed walks past VS/Pink bc she feels weird and intimidated

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ if dragged in there she will keep her eyes on the floor and on the floor unless absolutely necessary

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ giggles at the sex toys in spencer’s like a 12 yr old

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ will spend hours at a comic store looking for the right edition or funko pop

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ DESPISES bath and body works and Lush. too overstimulating, gives her a headache, likes washing her hands in the sinks though!!

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ do not let her near the lego store. she will leave with a $200 set the size of a small child.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ loves whenever you let her in the changing room to see you try on outfits

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ WILL cover her eyes whenever you are in between outfits though from respect (and because her cheeks and ears would turn red if she looked)

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ i feel like she’d need noise canceling headphones sometimes to not get too overstimulated

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ hates trying on clothes in the change rooms because she’s paranoid and just hates it

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ would spend $25 for one shirt from Hot Topic and has a bunch of HotCash

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ pays for you when you’re not looking because she wants to be better than any man could ever be (she’s living paycheck to paycheck)

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ CERTIFIED bag holder.

“Hey.. ellie, babe, I can hold them myself. Your fingers are like— losing circulation.”

“Nah I got it.” She replies with a sweet smile as she in fact is losing circulation in her hands.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ can spend like 1.5 hours in there at most

SUCKER — CHAPTER ONE, so close to what

fanart by nrmav , edited by me

vampire!dealer!ellie williams x fem!reader

↫ prologue masterlist next ↬

info: your first day goes surprisingly well, despite the unwanted attention, your mind is mostly bothered by the auburn haired girl who cant seem to stand you, despite you doing nothing. you find peace in being alone and decorating, waiting until the day you see her pale face once more, and when you do, she seems to have much more interest in you than before. MOODBOARD + PLAYLIST

cw: mention of eating disorders, underage smoking (r & e are 17, r soon to be 18), men, stalking (e), readers pretty down and empty, trying to fulfill it, shes clumsy, she wears a skirt, bella swan coded but not really, follows the plot of twilight, near death experience, ellie's a dick, still just mainly fleshing out the story, barely edited, Imk if smths missing. men and minors dni.

wc: 8.5k

note: thank you for reading & for your patience i apologise for the rush in advance x

maybe cat’s confidence isn't as comforting as you thought it would be. it seems as if all of her friends have picked up the same, fairly loud habits as her. but she was helpful, guiding you to the office and ensuring you had all the right forms and slips, including a pass you had to get signed at every class.

your first two classes went fine, thankfully. you shared both with cat, and as soon as maths finished and the lunch bell rang, her first move was to invite you to sit with her - an offer you very happily accepted, and an offer that she seemed even more thrilled that you had accepted. not like you were going to complain, surrounding yourself with people meant you didn’t look lonely, and not looking lonely meant you were not going to become a social piranha.

“hey guys! here she is, your shiny new toy,” cat jokes, introducing you to her group while she pulls you out a chair and then herself, placing her tray of cafeteria food in front of her.

you shyly wave a hand and sit down besides cat, your chair making a terrible scratching noise as you pull it back in, wincing at the sound.

everyone's heads are on you. there's four people whom you don't recognise, cat being the only familiar person at the table. thankfully, the one sitting directly in front of you takes the chance to introduce everyone.

“i’m thomas, this is jackson.”

he takes a minute to jab jackson's arm jokingly, who hits him right back smiling, thomas feigning hurt and rubbing his arm, pouting snobbily, trying (and failing) to hold back a smile. jackson has bright blonde hair and some kind of surfer vibe going for him, meanwhile jackson has dark brown hair, wearing a red flannel and skinny jeans.

“ignore them. i’m crystal,” the girl sitting diagonal to you continues.

she looks kind, soft. her blonde hair cascades down her shoulders, fresh blowout styling it perfectly. she has light shimmer on her eyelids, and you want to ask her where she managed to get such pretty pigment from, as well as where you can find a cute dress like that in a place like this.

“and that’s stevie.”

she nods her head beside her towards the final unnamed person. she smiles at you, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. she has dyed red hair that's pin straight, dark lipstick and eyeliner suiting her perfectly, her outfit far more stylish than the others, a dark red shirt with a lace layer overtop paired with a mid length skirt and boots.

“hey, guys. thank you for letting me sit with you,” you kindly express your gratitude, smiling at them, “it's nice to meet you.”

thomas laughs at your formality, leaning forward in his seat to show you have his full attention. “don't be silly. where’d you move from?”

stevie continues looking down at her food, seemingly uninterested in welcoming a new person and it makes you feel bad - you don’t want to mess with their group dynamic. everyone else is paying attention, even if they're eating, eyes wide, looking at you expectantly.

“uh, i just moved here from seattle.”

you can tell you're self-conscious by the way you keep tugging your sleeves over your hands, trying to shield yourself from the attention. it's not only your newfound friends that are looking at you, as people keep turning towards you then murmuring to their friends. you feel like you’re going crazy.

stevie laughs sarcastically, eyes on her food. “why are you so pale then?”

your face falters, “oh, i-”

“stevie,” crystal warns, her tone stern but still somehow friendly. gentle parenting at its finest.

“sorry,” she mumbles, but it doesn't help from your face flushing with embarrassment.

she seemed cool, you wanted to get to know her better but it seemed like she would rather do anything but sit here at a table with you.

crystal sighs, but her attitude switches up quickly to try and welcome you more as best she can, hoping you don’t let the red haired girl make you feel too much like an outsider.

“so, how was seattle? i bet you’re missing the sun, huh.”

the group continues to pile on top of crystal's initial question, “why did you move here? where do you live around? is that your chevy truck out the front? who have you met so far?”

it felt like it went on and on, but thankfully they eventually let up, turning to conversation amongst each other, tom and jack going off to talk to people they hadn’t seen since the holidays started, leaving with a promise of ‘returning home to you’.

her friend group being loud in nature proved to work in your favour pretty well. you didn't have to talk too much, but you still enjoyed their presence and jokes. it gave a good balance to your life and didn't exhaust you, treating you like you had all been friends for years. stevie’s dislike bothered you, but you were sure it was only due to the attention you were being given. you were determined to get rid of it and discover a way to help flip it on her instead. she seemed like she thrived off of attention, you did not.

“there’s nothing new about the newspaper here, just another one about eating disorders,” crystal complains from beside you. her whines about the poorly written newspaper she was reading from over your shoulder that she had just given you making you laugh.

“sup chief heiress!” jackson teases, coming back towards the group and yanking the newspaper from your hands, dragging an empty chair beside yours, stealing cat’s spot.

“chief heiress?” cat blandly says.

“very new perspective, jackson. thank you.” stevie’s sarcasm slices through you, she does not seem to enjoy the attention jackson is giving you, and neither do you. mentally, you put together the pieces. you planned on staying as invisible as possible, but everybody here seems to have made it their personal mission to draw as much attention to you as possible.

“i think it suits her,” thomas runs up, “don't you think?”

he asks you before kissing you on the cheek and yanking jackson’s chair from underneath him, causing the boy to fall and drop as well as the paper as the perpetrator runs away, jack chasing after him while yelling profanities. you shake your head, eyes falling back onto the discoloured table.

“wow. they are all over you, aren't they?” stevie kids, but its clear there’s bitterness lingering behind in her voice, malice. you can tell she’s trying to sus out your non-existent intentions. both crystal and cat eye her.

you sigh, picking the newspaper from the ground, putting it back on the table and standing up from your seat.

“not my type,” you disentangle, hoping it gives some clarity to the girl, and that she’ll pass the message on to the boys. it’ll do for now, but you’ll be sure to clear up the confusion later, having no energy for enemies, especially on your first day. your plan was to breeze through school, but you were really liking your friends, and you hoped it would stay a more permanent thing. only being able to hope that stevie’s resentment would die down as well as the attention, anticipating it already.

you forgot to bring your own lunch, thanks to your haste, so you’re forced to grab a piece of fruit from the cafeteria. it looked like a safe bet as seemingly being the only edible option they provided, especially after taking a quick glance at cat and stevie’s tray. you decide on an apple that looked surprisingly juicy, a deep shade of red making it seem extra appealing to you. you rejoin your friends and slide back into silent conversation with them, taking small chunks out of your apple while you pay attention to their intense talking, chiming in every now and again but not overstepping. thomas and jackson are still nowhere to be seen, but you’re not fussed about it. you hear the cafeteria doors open, automatically turning your head to see who walked in wondering if it could be tom or jack, but you forget all about them and your heart stops once you lay your eyes on three of the most stunning people you’ve ever seen.

the couple catches your attention first, someone lingering behind them. all are unfamiliar to you, and all are fairly pale, almost sickly. they walked as if they owned the place, and it frightened you a little, their confidence sending chills up your body. within the couple, the girl had dark, thick hair pulled up into a bun that framed her face perfectly, a brown jacket, maroon v neck cut t shirt and skinny jeans causing her to look as flattering as possible, her tan like skin adorning freckles wherever you could see them. she looked impossibly kind. meanwhile the guy she was holding hands with had some kind of mullet haircut going for him, an outfit similar to hers thrown on, boots squeaking ever so slightly against the cafeteria floors. they looked incredible together. striking. nonchalant attitude plastered on. the girl behind them, however, had caught your attention too. she had dark skin, amber eyes, and hair pulled back into a ponytail, long braids running down her back with a headband at the forefront. she and the freckled girl appeared to be matching outfits. before you can even process it, you realise they aren’t immune from resisting to look at you either, or maybe they could just feel your eyes, one by one catching your stare. you have to turn your head all the way around to see them properly, yet you don't look away, don't cower in fear, too entranced by the trios magnetic energy they hold even while simply walking and sitting down. but eventually, you lose eye-contact with them as they become engrossed in their own conversation, forgetting about you immediately and unbothered by your presence. it is unbelievably refreshing.

“who are they?” you ask your new friends, cat pausing her eating and following your eyes behind her towards their table on the far side of the cafeteria.

she doesn't pay any mind to your question, going back to her food, you face her, back turned to the trio.

“the millers. the dark haired girl with the boy? that’s dina, and jesse. both really weird, both dating. the other one is riley. they mainly keep to themselves. they moved down here a couple years back, their dad is some sort of doctor slash matchmaker. i’m surprised the other one isn't with them.”

your face contorts into confusion.

“how can they be dating if they’re part of the same family? and the other one?” you question, and just like clockwork, you hear the doors behind you open once again, turning to face it, you see her walking through them.

time seems slow as you watch her walk towards her table. she’s tall, fairly lean, far more pale than the rest. auburn hair cut just above her collarbone, tied into a half up half down. some wispy bits fall from her oddly flattering side part, a silver lip ring and eyebrow piercing taking place on her also freckled face. she was dressed in converse, like you, baggy jeans, a jacket and a deep green shirt.

she seems to be the edgier of the trio, smirking to herself for no reason when passing your table, making her way to join the rest of her family. you can't take your eyes off of her.

“that's ellie miller. total heartthrob. apparently nobody here’s good enough for her. not like i care, you know…” you silently nod your head, indicating you were still following along

stevie clears her throat then continues, “dina and jesse can date since they aren’t technically related, although it's still weird. joel miller adopted the four of them ages ago, apparently after he lost his own daughter.” she continues cats logic, whispering the last part. your simple sentence from before denying attraction for the boys evidently lightening up her perspective on you, thank god.

“huh.” you mumble, taking the final bite of your apple, still turning your head just to stare at the pale girl sitting at the table far across from you, you can really see the appeal for it now. she's busy in conversation with dina, manspreading and leaning back into her seat comfortably, hands tucked into her jacket pockets as if she owns the place, she looks extremely relaxed, and good doing it.

you get lost in thought, blanking out while you stare, the last thing you expected her to do, however, was to suddenly look up and lock eyes with you. panic coursing through you as you look away from her, praying she didn't catch you. only for a moment though, your body instinctively looking back up to see if she’s still staring.

and she is.

a confused, almost lost look having replaced her previously cocky features, leaning upright in her seat ever so slightly, analysing you. but not for long, she pauses for a moment before peeling her eyes away from you, resuming her previous position. warmth floods to your cheeks and you look around and down at your finished apple in shame.

cat, apparently having previously caught your stare, sighs. “seriously, don’t waste your time. i mean it,” disappointment held in her voice.

you shake your head gently, turning around and looking up to face the pale girl once more, hoping to see her facing you once more. she’s not. “wasn't planning on it.”

the bell rings and all of your friends go their separate ways. you shared biology with thomas, who decided to rejoin your table just as the three of you were grabbing your stuff to get to class.

your feet drag as you make your way to the labs, thomas talking to you about his extravagant lunch adventures, but you weren't fully paying attention. when you arrive, he apologized profusely to go sit with another friend of his, saying he wishes it was you but that he had made the mistake of promising them. you don't mind, waving him off with a polite smile and soft eyes to indicate it was alright. everybody else had already taken their place as you enter the class, in their own duos, leaving you little choice. you analyse the room, a fan blowing directly behind you and you can feel your hair move from it. that's when you see her, again, her eyes already on you. you hadn't even noticed her leave the cafeteria before.

but this time, when the papers fly up nearby her thanks to the fan behind you, her hand flies up to her nose while she inhales deeply, shutting her eyelids as if she’s trying to regulate herself. your face twists into confusion, instantaneously feeling self consciousness as you shyly grab your hair to smell. vanilla. nothing new. nothing disgusting to inhale, unless maybe she just really, really hated vanilla. but from the difficulty she’s finding to even breathe, you highly doubt that. she’s staring directly at you now in sheer disgust, breathing in heavily, tense as she could be as if she’s smelt something absolutely rancid ‘cause of you.

lost in thought, you don't notice your teacher talking to you, until you lose eye contact with her and he takes your slip away, signing it then handing it back with a textbook. then, he points straight to her, and that's when you realise she’s the only one without a lab partner.

regardless, you still try to make light of the situation. flashing a faint smile and taking your seat beside her, the stool out to get you as you almost fall backwards the second you try to sit, hurriedly regaining your balance and trying to play it off, dropping your book bag beside you.

she doesn't speak to you, hell she doesn't even look at you directly. her eyes wide as she keeps her head down, eyeing you from the side, hand still covering her nose and mouth.

it only worsens your paranoia, skeptically raising your sleeve to your nose to see if she's being dramatic or not, and again, you only smell like vanilla. you didn't walk through shit on your way to bio, thank god. how come ellie looked at you as if you were dead was unknown, but you still wanted to give her a chance.

you just couldn’t find it in yourself to talk to her. she's made it very clear with her piercing gaze and inability to say hi that she has zero intentions of talking to you, so there was no point to it anyways, and you didn't want to cross a line, especially with her strange gaze at lunch. you opt to pay attention for once. but it's proving to be a challenge when the stools are so uncomfortable, when ellie’s intensely staring at you, hand no longer near her mouth, inhaling deeply, like she wants more. looking at you like she wants more, not paying attention to the teacher. just you.

mr. brown’s mouth is moving, but you’ve blocked him out. ellie seems to be trying her best to make you notice her, to look at her. and its working, proving to be incredibly difficult to not give into temptation and look at the pale girl beside you, and you just about do every second you’re stuck in that classroom.

you distract yourself by counting down the seconds, imagining ellies life outside of school, how you can adjust your routine in the morning to no avail. your mind wandering back to the girl beside you each time.

the clock is ticking but nothing is changing, you think you’ll be stuck in this classroom forever.

somehow, eventually, the bell rings for everybody to go to their next class, but part of you is disappointed. you were enjoying the attention ellie was giving you, even if it set off warning bells in your head. i mean, your friends had even explicitly told you she didn't have eyes for anybody, even stevie. and you certainly are not better than stevie.

you blink and ellie's gone, dashing out of the classroom, old backpack clutched tightly in her right hand, running away from you as if her life depended on it.

you hate it, but deep down you're offended, and a little sad. someone else's opinion has never bothered you this much until now, and you have no idea even why. you convince yourself your friends got into your head about the mysterious girl. you haven't even spoken to her, yet the effect she has on you seems to be an issue, one that you hope doesn’t last.

you don't see ellie for the rest of the day and it disappoints you, that meant you only had biology with her. after a gym class that you surprisingly don't do terribly in, and another lunch break where you once again gained unwanted attention (thankfully, limited from jackson as you started a conversation between him and stevie), you make your way back to the office, marking the end of your first day.

opening one of the double doors, you’re surprised to see her right in front of you, but she does not look happy. posture tight, back straight as she leans over the counter, just like she had in biology.

“there has to be something, anything at the same time as bio that i can switch to, lady. literally, anything.”

“i’m sorry dear, but all of the classes have been filled,” she responds apologetically, holding a hand up to you to signal she’ll be with you in a moment, and you weren’t even sure if ellie could get any more rigid than she could, but her body language surely signals it, proving you wrong. turning around slowly to face you, face angry. it shocks you, but doesn’t scare you, looking directly into her dark eyes.

“i’ll just deal with it then. thank you,” she grunts, taking her backpack off of the floor and storming away from the office, less than an inch away from bumping into you, barely avoiding your touch.

bothered, but honestly more annoyed, you go through a series of emotions in a matter of seconds, trying to make excuses to how she could be so mean to you when she didn't even know you. sadness slowly turning into anger, you wanted to know what made her hate you. not even bothering to go return your slip, a flurry of emotions overtaking your being, leading you too to storm out. telling yourself you’ll confront the tall-girl tomorrow, challenge her even. if she wanted to bite you, you would bite back.

but she didn’t show.

not the next day either, or the day after that. all hope you had of confronting her slowly fading away, as well as your anger by the time the week finished, and you were left to your own devices. you would be lying if you said dismay didn’t consume your being everytime you walked into biology only to find the seat next to yours empty, often finding yourself looking at her siblings during break, you hated it, but she had made an impression on you.

you tried your best not to let it bother you. turning your focus to school and friends, but not much had changed, and you knew it was only a temporary feeling of fulfillment. half the school seemed to have taken an interest in you, asking discreet questions to see who you might have eyes on, telling them the same thing.

“nobody. i'm good on my own.”

and you really weren’t lying when you said that. sure, ellie drew you in and magnified your curiosity by far more than anybody else, but she had issues with you for some unknown reason, and you had no plans of chasing after someone, no matter how badly you wanted to. anybody who had asked you out romantically you were sure to turn down as politely as possible, because they didn't know you.

there was no difference between them and you when it came to ellie. you really didn't understand the appeal when it was about you, and you were certain it was only because you were the first new person in months.

the week finished far slower than you thought it would, each passing day adding more and more weight to your shoulders, the feeling of fulfillment fading away faster until you were alone, and it vanished completely.

weekends gave you freedom, but they also left you with too much time on your hands. you found yourself doing something, anything that would distract you and keep your mind off of the pit that had formed in your stomach.

first, saturday. you had blocked off half the day to complete schoolwork, and the other half to unpack and hang out with your dad. he didn't have the day off, but you made sure to go to the station and hang out at the diner for lunch after you had managed to complete your work in a matter of hours.

he did a good job at keeping your mind occupied, telling you all about what his duties had been involving recently. strange animal attacks being the centre of his occupation currently. all it proved to you was that jackson was boring, but at least your food was delicious, and you did meet some more familiar faces who claimed they last saw you when you couldn’t even form a conscious thought.

when you drove home, saying goodbye to your dad, the first thing you spotted were four brown moving boxes sitting on your porch waiting for you, and you knew what two of them contained. your music. something you felt like you had been missing for years.

you hurriedly moved all the boxes inside, albeit struggling while doing so, especially when trying to get everything up the stairs. but you managed, and you wasted no time, ignoring your panting breath as you ripped open all the boxes, visualising how you wanted this to go.

deciding you would go out to town and buy some new shelves and a stand to hold your record player and vinyls, you call your dad quickly to check what the best place would be, to which he recommended some vintage thrift stores around that were bound to have something similar to what you were looking for. jumping in your truck and peeling out of the driveway, deciding you would get all your furniture first before unpacking further so you didn't have any unnecessary clutter. you had gotten a pretty good feel for the town and had a general idea on where you were going, eventually finding a good spot right in the middle where you could shop, making a stop at the library to print out your resume first, a process that had been tedious, to say the least.

every store you went to, you handed out the piece of paper that had your name in bold letters at the top. you figured it would be a good idea, useful. having something to take up your days while simultaneously getting paid for it, applying mainly in the hopes of getting hired at the record store that very conveniently had a sign in bright bold letters practically screaming at you that they were hiring, and the person whom you handed your resume to had taken a liking in you, especially after seeing that you were the chiefs daughter.

it didn't stop you from having a look at their options, they had much to choose from. paramore, bon iver, and you couldn’t leave without at least one thing from there, you had been saving up and declared it a present for yourself. hoping it would decrease the emptiness within you somehow. deciding on among my swan by mazzy star, it felt only fitting, and you planned on showing your dad the correlation between the pillow and the record. it would kill two birds with one stone. he would think you felt perfectly fine, and you had something new to listen to.

you visited a couple more shops, handing in your resume at every single one, always ensuring to have a wander around, too. you were sure to not overspend tho, buying two new shirts and a skirt with some tights, some more long sleeved stuff as you were running out of outfits, small trinkets from local antique stores that you wanted to support, checking their furniture options each time. each store didn't have quite what you needed, that was until the second to last. a dark wooden shelf catching your eye instantly, it was perfect. the same type of wood as your other furniture, four squares beneath to hold the vinyls flawlessly and the perfect width on top to hold your turntable and speakers.

you bought it without a second thought, the shop attendant helping you load it out into your truck after you drove it up out front their store, them doing most of the work due to you almost dropping it from your inability to see two feet ahead of you. you decided to end your day there, satisfied with the purchases you had made, feeling a little better, you had been productive at the least and that brought some comfort to your overcrowded mind.

it was sunset by the time you arrived back home, your dad already relaxing on the couch before you interrupted his silence and begged if he could help you unload the new, heavy piece of furniture. he accepted without a second thought, bringing it up to your room effortlessly, almost tripping over the mess you had made on your floor of suitcases and boxes.

by the time you had rearranged your furniture, fatigue had overtaken your being. a lack of motivation to continue your newfound career in interior design made you instead decide to call it a night. rushing down the stairs to reheat your leftovers from the diner, eating at the kitchen bar with your father standing in front of you, it was nice to have him genuinely care about your day. this was time you two had reserved to update each other on your days, no matter how boring. telling him how you applied to a few stores and excitedly explaining how you had bought a matching vinyl to the pillow he had gifted. something that made his day a lot better than you thought it would.

washing your dishes and stacking them, you said goodnight to your dad before lazily walking back up towards your room. he calls out a reminder to call your mom and check when you can go down to see abby, you don't pay any mind to it. already having made mental plans to go down on the firefly reserve next weekend. having a quick shower and crashing on your bed, you close your eyes for a couple moments, content with the day.

the pit wasn't so overbearing anymore, you felt okay, not incredible, but good enough to not spiral. hoping to hear back from at least one of the many places you applied to.

you wonder if you would run into ellie in town someday, especially if you started working there.

groaning at yourself, you refuse to let someone like ellie steal all your thoughts, she was probably just having a bad day that didn’t have anything to do with you. i mean it was the first day back, so she was probably missing the liberty of doing whatever she wanted during the day, explaining her sudden absence.

but you were more upset at her for leaving you alone in biology. you suck at biology. and you didn't want to lose all progress you had made with stevie by asking one of the boys to tutor you since they were the only other two who also did it, just in separate classes. stevie, crystal & cat doing chemistry, a science you were somehow worse at, choosing to suffer in silence instead, asking your dad for help that didn't really help when he doubted his skills more than your own.

opening your eyes and peeking outside, you decided now was the perfect time for your typical nightly routine. opening the lace curtains then your window, grabbing the jumper beside you once the cold air hit you immediately, somehow forgetting about the cloudy breeze waiting for you outside despite the countless times you’ve done this now. before bed, or in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep. even when you got home before your dad did.

opening your pack, you come to the realisation you only have six left, you would be out in the next week or so. cat seemed like the type of person who would know who dealt, maybe even stevie, making a mental note to ask them later if they knew anybody.

taking one out, you grab your lighter from its hidden spot beside the pack underneath the pillows. assuming your regular position of your back leaning against the side wall with your legs spread straight across, you put your cigarette in between your lips and purse, cupping your hand to shield it from the wind and effectively lighting it, but burning yourself in the process, sucking in a pained breath and involuntarily dropping the hot object. you moan at the feeling for a moment clutching your finger with your other hand before assessing the damage, nothing terrible. it would fade within a day or so, focusing back on the cigarette and inhaling, content with the relief it gave.

you take the cigarette from your lips pinching it between your index and middle finger, exhaling towards the outside of your room. grabbing your phone, you dial your moms number. you haven't called her since thursday, it completely slipped your mind last night, so you wanted to make the effort to talk to her now.

one ring, then another, then another, and a few more but she doesn't answer. you give up, putting the cig back in your mouth for another inhale and throwing your phone on your bed. looking outside instead.

your heart skips a beat as you swear you see something from the treeline, standing completely still right in direct eyeliner to your house, jumping in your spot and leaning out the window further, seizing the cigarette from your lips once more and blinking a few times. it was probably just your eyes playing tricks on you, as when you open them again, nothing is there.

nobody would be able to get away that quickly, so you dumb your fears down to an illusion, but you're still shaken up from it for an odd reason, calling it an early night.

reversing your steps, and closing your window, making sure to lock it this time just in case, then your blinds and finally your curtains, you settle into bed. the warm glow from both the lamp beside you and the fairy lights granting you comfort as you lull yourself to sleep, plans on decorating at the forefront of your mind.

sunday goes by far quicker than you would like. you woke up fairly late and was focused on laying out your room the way you would like. it was the first time you had complete freedom with somebody who didn't insist on keeping you their baby forever, so you were savoring it. your mom still hadn’t called you back, you weren’t worried, chalking it down to her enjoying the company of her husband. you begin your journey of meticulously moving things around, carefully choosing what would go where and ensuring you were making it as cozy as possible.

your vinyl shelf being the first thing you set up, you put it beside your desk, stealing the spare outlets beside it for your turntable and then attaching your speakers to the record player itself. displaying them neatly on top, deciding some small figurines and crystals could also make home there.

playing the first vinyl you pulled out of your box, that being ‘all we know is falling’ by paramore, you began to arrange and organise the rest of your collection, a process that took longer than you expected it to, a couple hours at most, but you were extremely happy with the result, you still had a few cubes empty, your collection on full display.

the rest of your room thankfully went by pretty easily, it came naturally for you to decorate. cleaning out your desk, not adding too much to it as you knew your constant schoolwork would clutter it enough, your bedside table not as empty as it previously was, a lamp, book & other small trinkets making a home there. your purse lay resting on the floor beside it.

your wardrobe took the longest, the other two boxes, and two suitcases mainly occupying clothes and some miscellaneous sentimental items you wanted to bring along. spending a majority of your day folding and hanging up clothes, far more than you remembered you had. over half being clothes you wouldn't even be able to wear 90% of the year because of the weather, but you were determined to find a way you could style them while staying warm. about half way through the day, cat sent you a message wondering if you wanted to meet up with the rest of them for lunch, and although you were busy unpacking, you thought some food wasn't a bad idea, and neither was strengthening your connection with the rest. hoping to god that they were the cure to the emptiness you had been feeling, pouring all your energy into the group, just for a chance of feeling normal; content.

but they didn't. you were hoping it was just because you haven't spent enough time with them yet, but you couldn’t spend too long with them anyways, emphasizing how you had to get back to complete your unpacking duties, in a hurry to do so before monday rolled around. cat, jackson, crystal & thomas all offering to tag along and help, an offer you had to politely decline. you were good doing it alone, music playing softly in the background. enjoying it much more than you thought you would have. maybe you could call abby when you got back. saying your goodbyes and tripping on your way out of the cafe, recovering and turning back to see if any of them had noticed, they all had.

offering them an awkward smile and wave goodbye, you turned away and allowed your cheeks to burn, rushing home.

by the time you arrived back, however, your dad whisked away your car instantly and had it taken out to get new tires, explaining to you how they would be safer on the slippery roads. you being sure to thank him profusely for the surprise, comfort settling over you as to how you didn't need to be so worried about crossing the rain with your car.

the day was moving by as if the hours were seconds, and you wanted to savour every last one. you had it to yourself. no worries of the outside world or friends, lost in your own room.

you were sure to call abby that night, cigarette pursed between your lips, talking to her about your recent endeavors and how your first day back went, briefly touching on ellie, a name she seemed to know but refused to explain further, suddenly needing to go. it infuriated you. abby was supposed to comfort and maybe distract you, just a little, the discreet flirting she was giving feeling worthless now.

monday came before you knew it, your room fully decorated and cleaned out. you had developed a morning routine over the past week that didn’t leave you running and dying making your ride, calmly making your way down the stairs, hands gripping the porch railing while you calmly walked to your car, not rushing into anything that would inevitably end up with you slipping and falling flat on your ass, climbing in and turning the heater on immediately. you were wearing something more fashionable than usual for once, wanting to feel good about yourself. the new outfit you had bought yourself on the weekend, a babydoll top paired with warm tights and a simple skirt, same worn chucks as always, not bothering to change that up. you felt good.

you drove to school in silence, no radio in your car meant no music at all, giving you time to sit with your own thoughts. you didn’t know where you stood right now. you really liked your friends, but they could be a bit much sometimes, and you preferred something softer. ellie still occupied your thoughts more than you wanted to admit, although you had been distracting yourself as much as you could throughout the few days you did get to yourself, your thoughts constantly wandered back to her. wondering if she would ever come back to school at all, or if she really just couldn't stand to be around you. you doubted she would return anytime soon. your feet move on their own accord out of your truck and through the courtyard to your first class: biology. it was especially rainy and cold, and in an effort to not ruin the work you had gone through, you threw on your thick oversized jacket and mittens, hauling your bookbag hurriedly out of the open weather.

going to your locker first, you tucked away your mittens, collecting your textbook and holding it to your chest, navigating your way to class. you had grown used to the empty seat beside you, not bothering to check and hanging your jacket up on the hanger at the front of class, facing towards your seat only to see-

her.

you certainly were not expecting her to make her reappearance today. she somehow looked even more appealing than before, an oversized button up shirt with a long sleeve navy undershirt and jeans being her simple outfit, same starry freckles, same shoes, same piercings.

your heart stops as your movements stutter, now feeling very out of place and lost, far more than usual in this class. that was usually in academics and paranoia of people thinking you were a loner, now it's because the one girl you feel like you’ve been waiting centuries for to return is right in front of you, looking straight at you. no hand over her mouth, but no smile either, just curiosity.

pride swells in you, then anger. she still was rude to you, not talking, acting like you were disgusting then practically begging to switch classes away from you, but the anger subsided just as quickly as it had previously, and you made your way to your aisle seat beside her. dropping your bag to the side, almost slipping off your chair for the sixth time, and pulling it in.

after weighing your options, you decide not to speak to her unless she takes the opportunity to talk to you first. you didn't want to force her to be friends with you, she's not looking at you but shyly looking at the table in front of her, the complete opposite to last week, as if she's contemplating what to say. you cross your arms and lean on the bench, looking straight ahead.

“hey. i’m sorry i was unable to introduce myself last week. i’m ellie miller, and i know who you are, but i’m guessing you're tired of people telling you.”

there goes your heart again, your brain short-circuits as her velvety rough voice cuts through you, deep. you stumble over your movements, elbow falling off the table, turning your head but not your body to see her face.

“mhm.”

she gives you the faintest of smiles, breathing in deeply. she genuinely seems to be trying, despite the little she’s spoken to you, it's better than the running away.

her green-amber eyes appear to be more welcoming this time, although you could have sworn they were a dark, almost soulless shade of black the last time you saw her.

you want to ask her what her deal was last week but stop yourself, your teacher frantically running up the aisles, explaining what the practical he had planned would consist of. something about onion cells and differentiating different phases, and that whoever finished first would get a golden onion. exactly what you wanted.

she shifts the microscope over to you once mr. brown finishes explaining, “ladies first.”

internally, you freak out. while you're fine with this unit, you still have fear lingering within you that you’ll answer wrong and look stupid in front of ellie, something you really didn’t want to do.

hesitantly, you take a look into the microscope, identifying the onion root to be in a phase of mitosis after a couple seconds.

“mitosis.” you confidently answer to your lab partner.

“do you mind if i check?”

shifting the microscope over to her, you allow her to have a look for herself.

“mitosis.” she agrees, writing it down on the paper in front of her.

you don't intend on intruding, you really don’t, but your curiosity gets the better of you in a matter of moments, not thinking twice when you question her whereabouts before reality catches up to you and you regret it instantly. “you were gone. where’d you go?”

she switches out the plate, looking down, not answering you for a couple moments, murmuring an answer under her breath and writing it down before looking at you. you don't question the answer, trusting her judgment far more than your own. “i’m sorry about that… i had also meant to apologise before. there were some personal things i had to deal with. i hope everything was okay without a lab partner, though?”

a lab partner. you think. sighing dramatically, “it’s fine i guess, this is only my worst subject anyways” you attempt to joke, hoping it will lighten the mood further. she lets out a low chuckle, averting her eyes from the microscope before piercing you with her gaze once more, opening her mouth to respond before shaking her head, looking back into the microscope.

“what?” you frown “do you want me to have a look? you’ve been doing a lot of work.”

“are you sure i can trust you with getting us the golden onion?”

“hey! i'm not that terrible, i got the first one right.”

she smiles, biting her cheek to stop it from widening. even though her head is down you still see it, her pretending to take so long to identify it to not make you feel as silly.

“how have you been liking jackson weather then?”

you stare at the girl in disbelief, “you’re asking me about… the weather? here?”

her face falls as she seems to realise the uselessness of her own words, smiling at herself, not holding it back this time. “yeah, i guess i am.”

you shudder at her, “it's been okay. it's just so cold all the time, i can't help but miss the heat. the sun, at that.”

“it's supposed to be sunny thursday, i think.” she's gliding through the questions with ease, and you do feel terrible for letting her do so much work, but she doesn't seem to mind one bit. asking you more questions, questions that would be impossibly annoying if they came from anybody else, but from her, it's more personal. she’s actively listening and following up. it's a revitalizing change. “but your outfit is nice. did you get it for this weather?”

she noticed.

“yeah, actually. i got it this weekend.” you smile fondly at her, looking down at your outfit timidly. the emptiness within you is no longer as noticeable, it's not overbearing with ellie.

“how come you went into town?”

the rest of class went like that, time flying by as ellie asked you questions upon questions about your life, getting more personal as time went on. you two won the onion, leaving class side by side with it clutched tightly in your hand while you walked to your locker, questions still coming. you honestly didn't know if she would ever run out.

“so you moved here to make your moms life easier? that doesn’t sound fair on you.” she interrogates, voice slightly rougher now while she learns about your reasoning for leaving your home and coming here instead.

you don't answer her query. “you're full of questions, aren’t you?” you flip it back on her, opening your locker as she leans off to the side, head resting on the metal, looking at you.

pausing, she contemplates her next words, you don’t feel another question approaching though, wondering if she was upset at your sudden change, even though you meant it light heartedly. “i’m just trying to figure you out. you’re a very… difficult person for me to read.”

closing your locker, onion shoved inside, you look at her on instinct. her eyes catching you, pulling you in, making you drown within them.

“are your eyes a different colour?” the comfortable nature of the constant chatter you two had been having didn't make you need to second guess your words around her, but you should know better than to let your guard down.

the question seems to catch her off-guard, though. for some unknown reason. you already know you’ve blown it.

“it's… it’s the fluorescents.” she defends, staring at you for a couple moments, opening and closing her mouth to say something else but deciding against it, marching away from you, watching her back while she strides down the hallway you two just came from, a jacket clutched in her left hand.

slowly turning back towards your locker, you flop your head on it, metal clanging while you close your eyes. all the progress you had just made with ellie was lost, the hole in you reappearing.

you had cursed yourself by having biology with the girl first, the rest of the day going by at a snail's pace, the people around you becoming white noise.

when the final school bell rang, you made no effort in being quick to go, you had nowhere to be anyways. but when you got to the carpark and saw ellie already there, eyeing you as she leant against her car, talking to dina. you walked quicker. you didn't appreciate the back and forth she was giving you. the car park was at its peak population, and you were solely focused on going home.

tossing your back onto the hood of your car, you open it up to try and find your car keys, digging around for a couple seconds, and that's when you hear it, car tires screeching, really close to you. whipping your head around just in time to see jackson and his black van sliding around the carpark, out of control. right towards you.

everything moved in slow motion as you realised you were going to die.

die in this school, in front of hundreds of kids, being squashed by an out of control vehicle. there was no saving you, jacksons panicked face in the driver's seat being the only thing you saw as he frantically tried to swing his wheel away from you to no avail.

you closed your eyes hard, bracing for impact, heart palpating out of your chest as you can hear it in your head. but impact never came.

instead, somebody had taken hold of you, knocking you down to the concrete. you opened your eyes, ellie williams looking back at you, clutching your waist and looking down at you.

you feel like the wind has been knocked out of you, emotions overflowing. you were supposed to die, and she was all the way on the other side of the car park, so how could she have possibly gotten here in such a short amount of time? and how did the car not hit you? a strange dent made behind ellie on your car, and in the car ahead of you.

wordlessly, she stands up, away from you. jumping over your truck and away from the crowds that are surrounding you. people yelling over one another, crystal declaring she had an ambulance on the way while cat wildly scanned you, grabbing your face and looking around to see if you were okay, telling people to back up, it didn't help. your mind was far away, nowhere near this reality.

you have no time to bury yourself deeper into your thoughts, being whisked away into the back of an ambulance, truck abandoned in the school parking lot while more questions were being thrown at you, lights in your eyes, temperature reader in your ears, you weren't sure how much more you could handle.

but you had a few questions of your own, all of them having to do with the same person, ellie miller.

next

taglist, thank you all so much for reading i truly appreciate it beyond words ♡

@daughterofthemoons-stuff @angrybirdsmaster @st0nerlesb0 @cheriedivine

still thinking about ellie's hair but this time about helping her cut it. canon!ellie cuts her own hair. modern!ellie cuts her own hair. every iteration of ellie butchers her own hair this could truly take place in any universe

heading over to her place because you're collecting her to head out, finding her in front of the bathroom mirror in a sports bra, kitchen scissors in hand and shirt thrown somewhere on the floor

just, like, unmethodically chopping bits off

she calls out a 'hey' when she hears you come in, not taking her eyes off what she's doing, pulling one of the foremost strands outstretched then snipping the end off.

"oh, fuck," she says when the piece of hair falls back in place, realizing she's cut way too much off. plus, it's completely uneven.

you scoff at her, coming up behind her and making a show of checking your watch. "is there a reason you've decided to do this now?"

"it was too long. it was pissing me off."

taking her arm, you pivot her around to face you, laughing lightly when you take a proper look. "dude, you've fucked the front up."

"i know, shut up," she whines sheepishly, attempting to turn back towards the mirror, but you stop her.

you examine the pieces, gently swiping them out of her face and trying to get them to sit in a better way. "it's not that bad, it just needs, like... blending?"

"yeah, what do you think i was trying to do?" she replies, words reducing to a short, breathy laugh. a small smile stays on her face as she watches you, eyes flickering over your face while you look at her hair, thinking how to mend it.

"sit down, let me try."

she pulls a little bit of an unsure face, but relents anyway, slowly taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub and handing you the scissors. "i swear to god, if i have to shave my fuckin' head because of you..."

you tut. "can't really make it any worse."

"rude."

"you're rude," you murmur, leaning down and beginning to make some attempt at feathering the choppy strands.

"i'm sweet."

"when you wanna be."

ellie blows air out of her nose and smiles gently in response. your left knee comes up to rest on the edge of the tub, thigh slotting next to her. she automatically shifts her hand onto it, thumb swiping over absent-mindedly as she looks up at you.

it's quiet as you concentrate, brow furrowing subconsciously whilst you try and fix ellie's mess. you didn't really have a clue what you were doing, just trying to make it appear more even without taking too much more off.

anyway, she's content to sit there gazing at you with a tiny, lopsided smile, eyes dripping with adoration as she smooths her fingertips over your thigh.

she breaks the silence halfway through, thinking out loud. "you look good."

you chuckle. when you first met ellie, she was shy around you; but since being together you swiftly figured out once she's out of her shell, she's a shameless flirt. "thank you. so do you."

"want me to eat you out before we go?"

you blow air out of your nose, leaning back to tousle her hair into place. "we're already late."

"i can be quick."

ignoring the way that makes your lower stomach flutter, you move to stand up straight. "did you do the back?"

"yeah, i think it's fine, though," she replies, feeling at the back of her hair.

"c'mere, let me check." you offer a hand to pull her up, and she turns away from you, allowing you to inspect her job. she's right, it looks fine; which makes you wonder how the hell she'd managed to mess up the part she could see, and not the part she was doing blindly.

you prod her in the back, feeling the way she jolts slightly. "you're good to go. that'll be a million dollars."

"ha-ha," she replies, pivoting around to look at herself in the mirror. she leans in, running a hand through the strands. "oh, yeah, it looks way better. thanks, babe."

"welcome." you lean past her to set the scissors down on the sink, pressing a small kiss to her shoulder as you do so. she turns around, taking you by the waist and pulling you into her, pressing languid, deliberate kisses over your neck.

"y'know, that kinda did it for me."

hand moving to thread through her hair, you chuckle at her statement. "why?"

she hums into your skin as she alters her path, mouth moving upwards and over your jaw, lips slotting against your own. "i don't know, 'cause you're hot. and you were, like, basically on top of me, looking all serious and concentrated and shit."

you laugh, taking her by both sides of her jaw, unable to help yourself from kissing her wantingly when you pull her back in.

of course you end up letting her eat you out before you go; ellie on her knees by the bed, your legs slung over her shoulders as she laps at your clit, fingertips pressing into your hips, roaming over your stomach.

you're already late, anyway.

u said u wanted requests for blurbs so ermmm

how about reader comforting ellie after she's had a shitty/stressful day? like cuddling, kissing, massages, etc. all that fluffy stuff? (modern au or just tlou universe in jackson is fine)

heyyy thank you for this sweet request! i wrote it to be vague, so it can be taken as being part of any universe <3

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw, mention of weed. pure fluff

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 0.8k

passing the threshold of the door, your gaze falls on an empty room. that was unusual; normally, your girlfriend was always there to greet you. she’d plant a kiss on you before you had time to compute, peppered smooches along your cheek as she questioned how your day had been.

you shuck your jacket and shoes off, dropping your bag to one side and allowing the door to gently shut behind you. you take a few steps forward, calling out a soft, “hello?”

“hey,” comes your unenthusiastic reply, ellie’s voice muffled through the bathroom door. “sorry. won’t be long.”

your heart falls a little at her tone of voice, a pang of worry in your stomach. still, you try your best to not let it eat at you, flipping a movie from her DVD collection on and settling yourself atop the bed.

ellie emerges a few long moments later, dressed comfortably, choppy strands of hair falling damp around her face. she sniffs before plopping down at the side of you, rubbing at her eye.

knowing something’s not quite right, you sidle up slowly, placing a kiss on her clothed shoulder before resting your chin there. upon examining her profile, she looks exhausted; face drained of color, heavy purple setting in underneath her eyes.

“you okay?” you ask gingerly, arm wrapping around hers.

she turns to meet your eyes, offering a slow blink and half-hearted nod in response. you know her, and you know that means, ‘no, but i don’t really want to talk about it.’

so, you readjust yourself, outstretch an arm as you gesture your head. she nods again, letting out a breath as she sinks down onto your chest. you were always like that — communicating without words. they weren’t necessary all of the time. she knew what you needed, you knew what she needed.

your legs part, allowing ellie to properly make herself comfortable. the top half of her drapes over you, your hand automatically snaking down the back of her hoodie. she lets out a tiny, content hum as your fingertips smooth over her skin, nails catching soothingly.

“you shouldn’t sleep with wet hair,” you tease gently, free hand picking up a tendril and rolling it between a thumb and forefinger. “you’ll get a cold.”

ellie lets out a light grunt, looking up at an angle. “nu-uh. that’s an old wive’s tale.”

you pull a face. “must have come from somewhere.”

“somewhere stupid,” she murmurs, wrapping her arm further around you and burying the bottom half of her face into your sweater. you chuckle, moving your hand from her hair to stroke at her temple.

a quiet beat passes, your girlfriend’s eyes falling shut at the languid movement, before you carefully break it. you didn’t want to push her, but it was eating at you. “you sure you’re alright?”

she draws out another breath, shuffling slightly. “mm-hmm. just… had a really shitty day.”

humming sympathetically, you shift your hand from her face, giving her cheek a final brush on the way out. her brow furrows a little at the loss of contact, puppy eyes half-opening to question it until you move lower. your fingers find the hem of her hoodie, tugging it upwards alongside the t-shirt underneath.

“trying to get me while i’m sad, huh?” she smirks, tired eyes lacking their usual spark.

you tut, eyes rolling fondly. “trying to get at your back, idiot.”

“you’ll try anything,” she jokes quietly, sitting up a little and half-undressing herself before returning to her original position. your fingers easily find the smooth expanse of skin, ellie fidgeting as she recalls how she was laid.

you stay like that in comfortable silence, allowing both of your breathings to slow as you caress and scratch over her back. the movie falls thoroughly forgotten, your concentration on the way ellie’s heart beats steadily into your body, the way she twitches when you prod gently at a sore spot between her shoulder blades.

“love you.” you didn’t particularly mean to say it out loud, but you were thinking it compulsively. you always did.

she squeezes you a little in response, lifting her head up and pecking the side of your mouth. “love you the most.”

your eyes meet hers, holding the contact. she’d always had a way of looking at you, even when you first met. she looked at you like she saw you, was taking in every detail she could. maybe somehow knew things about you even you didn’t yet.

you lean in, capturing her lips properly. it’s gentle, languid — comfortable as your mouths move against one another, her hand coming up to rest at your jaw.

giving her a final peck before pulling back, you rest your forehead on hers. you run a hand through the side of her hair, voice quiet with an amused smile. “wanna get high and make out for, like… several hours?”

she perks up at that.

sex w butch ! ellie ♡

once you're inside the lived-in warmth of ellie's farmhouse, things heat up fast— lips crashing, teeth grazing, hands roaming with urgency as a trail of clothing litters the floor behind you. she leads you to her bedroom.

she lifts you like it's nothing, strong arms flexing beneath her flannel as you wrap your legs around her waist. you giggle when she chuckles. "gonna be good f'me, doll?" she murmurs, voice thick, before tossing you gently on her bed.

you adjust yourself, propping up on your elbows to watch as she opens a drawer and pulls out a flesh-colored silicone dildo, adjusting the straps of the harness slung low on her hips. a soft buzz from the beer hums through your bloodstream— because you know sober, you'd be way too shy to stay calm in this situation.

"are you gonna make me a cow girl?" you tease, voice light, fingers twisting in her sheets. she hums, low and wicked, her rough, calloused palms dragging up the sides of your thighs, spreading you open like a gift just for her.

"bet you'd like that, huh?” she asks, licking her lips, eyes dark with hunger. “ridin' me til you forget your own name.”

it sends what feels like a million sparks racing down your spine, your body arching instinctively as your breath hitches. you nod absentmindedly, like your mind has been stripped down to nothing but want.

ellie smirks, eyes gleaming with control, and grabs a fistful of your hair. she gives it a firm tug, guiding you down, shifting your body until your lips hover over the tip. “c'mon, baby, get it wet for me.”

you obey without hesitation, pliant in her hands like a puppet. your tongue flicks out, circling the tip, tasting the silicone while you give her your prettiest wide doe eyes. she looks down at you like a wolf sizing up its prey.

once she decides it's slick enough, she pulls back slowly, her grip in your hair still tight. a string of spit stretches between your parted lips and the head of her strap before it snaps, dripping onto your chin.

she climbs onto the bed, resting her head on the pillows. her eyes rake over you, one brow raised. “get on,” she says, stroking your spit across the shaft of the silicone. “show me how much you want it.”

you crawl forward, straddling her lap, knees digging into the mattress on either side of her thighs. her hands settle on your legs, thumbs brushing slow circles. she tilts her head, “take your time, doll,” she whispers. “wanna watch you sink down real slow.”

you bite your lip, reaching between your thighs to guide her in. the stretch steals the breath from your lungs, your left hand landing on her clavicle as you lower yourself inch by inch, until your hips meet hers. “that’s it,” she groans, like she can feel every flutter and clench. “fuck, look at you.”

when you finally start moving— rolling your hips, grinding down— her hands tighten like she's holding herself back from taking over. “made to ride, hm?” she murmurs.

a pretty pout stays fixed on your lips, eyes heavy-lidded and glassy. every slow drag down on pushes a soft whimper from your throat. it doesn't take long til your rhythm falters, hips sputtering, need taking over. you’re completely desperate to be full.

“please,” you whisper, the word breaking into pieces as it tumbles from your lips. “pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

you sound wrecked, and ellie looks completely satisfied. one hand trails up your back as she coos at you mockingly, her other hand cradling your throat with just enough pressure to capture your focus. “look at you,” she breathes, tilting your chin up. “all fucked out already? thought you wanted to ride.” she tsks softly.

she lets you get a few more desperate rolls in before halting your movement. “alright, that's enough, cowgirl,” she laughs, “wanna see that pretty face when i pound you.”

before you can get a response out, she's flipping you with practiced ease, your back meeting the mattress in one fluid motion. her strap slides free from your soaked cunt for only a second before she's gliding it back in, watching the way your mouth falls open.

“fuck. there she is,” she groans. her pace starting steady, deliberate, as if she wants to savor the way you squirm under her. “you like this better, baby?” she breathes against your jaw, peppering kisses between words.

you nod, whimpering, legs wrapped around her hips, urging her deeper. her hand slides between your bodies, the rough pad of her thumb circling your clit, making you gasp. “that's it,” she murmurs, “gonna fuck you like you need it.”

and oh, does she.

ellie wastes no time, handling you like a rag doll. she folds you in half, pressing your knees up into your chest, your thighs trembling as she repositions herself— strap angled just right. her thrusts grow rough, relentless, her hips snapping forward with the kind of force that makes the bed creak beneath you. she's not holding back— beating up your pussy like you never knew you needed.

the pressure, the stretch, the way she fills you up? fuck. your eyes roll back, mouth falling open in a silent cry as pleasure coils low and tight in your belly. ellie watches you, eyes locked on your face, the thin sheen of sweat coating her flesh worth every second of having you like this. “yeah,” she growls, hips snapping harder. “that's it, take it. just like that.”

your arms wind around her neck, clinging to her like she's the only thing keeping you grounded. your legs tighten around her hips, breathless moans spilling straight into her ear. “i-i'm gonna.. gonna cum—” you choke out, voice thin and breaking.

ellie presses a kiss to your forehead, letting you hold her there in that tight, overwhelming mating press. “cum on my fucking dick, baby,” she whispers— rough and reverent.

that's all it takes.

your whole body tenses, then breaks. your thighs twitch, loud moans tearing from your raw throat as you cum hard, clenching around her strap while she guides you through every intense wave.

“shh,” she mumbles, lips brushing your temple. “i got you, baby.”

her thrusts slow until she stills, breath matching yours in shallow, heated pants. she stays close for a moment, grounding you with her weight before gently pulling out.

you wince at the emptiness, but she's already moving— gentle and efficient. she cleans you up with care, dressing you in something warm. she settles beside you, strong arms wrapping around your limp frame. “did s'good for me, baby,” she mutters, voice low and soothing, mouth brushing your hair.

tags @usuck @elliesfavtoy @httpakasha @lotudolly

A NIGHT TO REMEMBER ✶ ft. bbf!ellie williams. prequel to this.

cw. smut, nsfw, angst if you close your eyes and look away, fingering(r!receiving), dryhumping, reader is intoxicated but it’s all consensual, mentions of a man, gin slander lol, modern au, afab!reader and fem reader. wc. 5.2k(what the helly???) note. the plot was lost halfway through so it’s just basically smut mixed with nonsense…i’m really sorry :/

the music felt way too overbearing; mixed with the alcohol you’ve consumed over the past hour or so it all felt way too heavy—almost suffocating. bittersweet clung to your tongue, sharp and herbal, the aftertaste of gin curling at the back of your throat like smoke. dry. piney. something bitter underneath, like citrus peel left to burn.

you hated gin. you only drank it because it was the first thing that was handed to you.

pushed into the far corner of your kitchen, your clothes felt too tight, and your shoes didn’t fit right. you knew they didn’t. it wasn’t because you were overwhelmed and on the verge of a breakdown, it was because they were a size too small. you wore them because they looked good with your outfit, thinking you might’ve at least gotten one compliment about it. but no. not a single person mentioned to you how your shoes looked like they were personally customized for the outfit.

you weren’t mad, or annoyed for that matter. people came here to party and not to tell you that your ass looked fantastic, and your boobs sat so perfectly they might not be real.

none of that mattered really, at all even.

you’re sweating. you feel the cup in your hand feel slippery against the softness of your palm, it might fall to the floor and ruin those shoes you should really get rid of because they don’t fit. these fucking shoes.

it wasn’t even about them. it never was. you’re just pissed they don’t fit you the only time you decided to wear them. and you were pissed because she was talking to her and not you.

it wasn't jealousy.

it wasn’t.

you were just upset. that’s all. upset because she’s been hitting on you for at least two years now and now she was talking to someone that wasn’t you.

you had no right to be jealous. you turn ellie down every time she says anything remotely suggestive, you don’t let her get anywhere pass a flirty comment, maybe two or three more get by, but that’s all.

you don’t like ellie. i mean how could you?

(but it really was more like who doesn’t? ellie was pretty, gorgeous even. with her stupid freckles, green eyes that shine so brightly under the sun of dawn. the light over her face and those freckles. and her hair, it was so pretty, soft with the most addicting smell. every single fucking time you look at her you feel unwell. this sickening feeling in your stomach, it aches.

you have no good reason to turn her down, you do it because you’re confused about why a girl like her likes you.

you‘re clumsy, anxious, you let your mouth run when you shouldn’t. you talk back when enough's been said. your comebacks are snarky. you know you shouldn’t speak, but your mouth moves anyway—quick and defensive. regret always comes later. you feel as if there isn’t much to look at if you look at a mirror.

but that’s the thing that ellie likes the most. you’re different. not in the ‘i’m not like other girls’ kind of way—but in the way you flinch when you laugh, the way you don’t know what to do with your hands. in the way she notices. she doesn’t say anything, but she sees you.

but that’s what pisses you off the most.

because ellie doesn’t like you in spite of those things. she likes you because of them.

she likes the way you get flustered when you’re cornered. she likes when you talk back. when your voice shakes, but you say it anyway. she likes how your mouth runs when it shouldn’t. how you can never just leave things alone. she likes that you’re messy, and mouthy, and unsure of yourself. and maybe that’s why you keep pushing her away.

because if she sees all that and still wants you—you don’t know what that makes you.)

with your eyes shooting laser beams into the wall right next to her, as to not seem like you’re watching her because she’ll get all cocky about it if she catches you looking. it’s not ellie if she doesn’t tease you to death. smothering you with her words, like a pair of hands around your neck—gentle at first, like she’s cradling you to kiss—until they tighten, deliberate, marking you with nothing but words. words that leave an effect they shouldn’t, and it bothers you more than you’ll ever admit.

and now she’s gone, and so is the girl she was with.

wonderful.

you unstiffen your shoulders, dropping them, trying to relax when you feel so uncomfortable. you hear your bed practically calling your name. you’re so fed up. this was supposed to be a fun party, just like every other party your brother throws. but all you could think about was that ellie hasn’t talked to you once, and that some random guy, you were pretty sure wasn’t even invited, kept trying to hit on you, giving you this disgusting drink and telling you to come find him later.

he didn’t even ask you if you like gin, just poured it into a cup with a mix of diet coke, it’s the most nasty after taste you’ve ever tasted. who would drink such monstrosity and like it?

you set your cup down—finally. the stickiness from your palm feels gross; it’s sweaty and moist, like thick mucus. you’re about to disappear upstairs when you hear her.

“you always make that face when you're annoyed. d’you know that?”

ellie.

her voice is too close. low, amused. like she was watching you from the other side of the room and couldn’t help herself. and maybe she was.

you don’t turn around. not right away. you know how this goes—she says something cocky, you get defensive, she teases you until your thoughts melt into something you can’t name. it’s always the same. always her and her dumb words.

you roll your eyes instead, loud enough for her to hear it in your silence. “didn’t know you were watching me.”

“always do.” she says, like it’s obvious. like it’s nothing. you hate the way your heart stumbles at the sound of it.

then she moves closer. you feel it more than see it, her presence sliding in beside you, the press of her arm almost grazing yours. not touching. never touching. but close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin, her breath ghosting near your jaw.

“you looked like you were about to murder someone.” ellie murmurs, glancing at the abandoned drink.

“watcha got there?” she picks up the plastic cup you had just set down on the counter. her curiosity is shut down by the awful taste that appears in her mouth when she takes a generous sip from the cup.

“what the fuck is this!?” ellie’s face scrunches up into a look of disbelief and disgust. “what human fed you this?”

she sets the cup down and moves it further away on the counter like it’s radioactive.

“uhhhh. him over there.” you search in the crowd of people for the dark haired man that shoved the cup into your hand and smirked at you when you forced yourself to take multiple sips.

ellie follows your gaze, spots him almost instantly. the guy’s leaning against the fridge like he owns it—shirt half unbuttoned, drink in hand, grinning at someone who’s definitely not you.

she scoffs. “that guy?”

“that guy.”

“he looks like he harasses women on the street.”

you bite back a laugh, lips twitching. “that’s mean.”

“you drank his little science experiment. i’m being merciful.”

she turns to face you fully now, leaning her hip against the counter, one hand tucked into her back pocket. you glance at her, finally—just a flick of your eyes, quick and stupid—and she catches it. of course she does.

“you’ve been avoiding me all night,” she says, like it’s a casual observation and not an accusation.

“i haven’t.”

“you didn’t say hi.”

“you didn’t either.”

she tilts her head at that, amused. “so it’s my job now?”

“didn’t say that.”

“but you thought it.”

you huff, crossing your arms. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet.” ellie grins. “here you are. still standing next to me.”

you look away. again. the floor is suddenly very interesting.

ellie leans in just slightly, drops her voice to a hum. “you look good, by the way.”

you don’t respond. not right away. your brain short-circuits a little, glitches like an old tv. there it is again. the teasing, the soft menace in her voice. the compliment you weren’t expecting but still secretly hoped for.

“shoes don’t fit.” you mutter.

“doesn’t matter. your legs look great.”

your cheeks burn. you hate her. you want to crawl out of your own skin. skin yourself alive, bash your head into a wall.

“stop it.” you say, weakly. it’s barely above a whisper.

“stop what?” she asks, already smiling like she knows. like she can feel the heat radiating off you.

you don’t answer. you can’t.

ellie shifts closer. not by much—just enough that you have to fight the urge to lean back, or lean in, or do something other than stand there, vibrating with everything you’re trying not to feel.

“you always get like this when i say something nice,” she murmurs. “all twitchy and silent. like you’re waiting for me to take it back.”

you scoff, but it doesn’t land right. too shaky. too soft.

“i’m just saying,” she continues, voice syrupy, “if you’re gonna stand there looking like that, all flushed and pretty and bitey, you can’t expect me to behave.”

your breath hitches. that’s not fair. that’s so not fair.

“i’m not bitey.” you say, eyes narrowed.

“sure you’re not.” she grins, teeth sharp. “you’re a terror.”

you glare. or try to. but your face won’t cooperate—it wants to smile, to give in, to break in all the ways she makes you break.

ellie takes one step closer, and now she’s really in your space. the music blurs behind you both. voices fade to a dull, distant buzz. it’s just her, now. her and that look in her eye. the one she saves just for you.

“you miss me?” she asks, soft and unserious and too real all at once.

you could lie. you’ve done it before. you’ve done it so many times—shrugged her off with sarcasm, buried the truth under something wry. but right now?

right now you’re toeing the edge of something dangerous, and it’s never felt more tempting.

you don’t answer. you just let her look at you. let her wait. and ellie…ellie takes that silence like for a yes.

her grin fades, just a little. her eyes dip to your mouth, then back up again, slow, like she’s memorizing the way you’re holding yourself together for her.

“come upstairs with me,” she says, gentle now. no teasing, no game.

your heart slams against your ribs. you shouldn’t.

“okay.” you say.

and she doesn’t smile this time just nods, once, like this is the moment she’s been waiting for. like she knew you’d say it eventually.

ellie takes your hand. she doesn’t ask. just does. and you let her. because of course you do. because it’s ellie. and you’ve always been hers, even when you swore you weren’t.

you follow her out of the kitchen like a shadow, steps quiet, careful. she doesn’t look back. she doesn’t need to. the music is louder in the hallway, vibrating through the walls like a pulse. it drowns out everything—your thoughts, your doubts, the little voice in your head telling you this is a mistake.

she leads you up the stairs, weaving past bodies draped over railings and sitting cross-legged on the floor. no one notices you. no one stops you. it’s like the two of you are moving through a world that doesn’t quite exist. like this is some strange little pocket of reality where everything is charged, unreal, and fragile. only you and ellie.

her hand is still in yours when she opens the door to your room. she only lets go once it’s shut behind you both, the lock clicking into place with a soft finality.

the room is dim—just the string lights across the ceiling casting a golden glow over everything. a mess of clothes on the chair. an unmade bed you can’t stop staring at. why couldn’t i clean up after i got ready for this shit of a party?

ellie sits first, casually, like this is just another friday night. leans back on her hands, legs spread, jaw set. watching you carefully. the smallest movements you make she’s there to catch them. you stay near the door. back pressed against it like it might keep you grounded.

“you okay?” she asks after a moment, like the tension isn’t loud enough to swallow you both whole. the blurred absence of the music and shouts makes you feel somewhat better. but that bitter feeling doesn’t seem to slip away.

you nod. too quickly.

“you’re lying.”

“i’m not.”

“you always do that thing with your hands when you lie.”

you look down. fuck—she’s right. your fingers are twisted together, knuckles going white.

“i didn’t come up here to fight.” you say finally, voice thinner than you want it to be. ellie doesn’t move. she just keeps looking at you. her gaze is steady, unreadable.

“i know,” she says. “i didn’t bring you up here to make you uncomfortable.”

“then why’d you bring me up here?”

a pause. her eyes soften.

“because i couldn’t look at you all night without wanting to touch you.”

your breath catches.

“ellie—”

she cuts in, quick. “i won’t. not unless you want me to.”

the silence after that is almost unbearable. you stare at her. she stares back. her face is open, honest in a way she rarely ever lets it be. you want to say something sharp. something deflective. but the truth is boiling over in your chest, and it’s too hot to ignore. you want her to touch you.

“you scare the shit out of me.” you say, with a breathy laugh feeling awkwardness flair up inside of you.

ellie blinks. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

she lets out a breath—quiet, amused, fond in that infuriating way of hers. you hate it.

“you scare the shit out of me, too.”

and just like that, the air shifts. the room tilts. everything feels precarious, like a match held too close to the fuse. your face heats up again.

“come here,” she says, barely above a whisper.

you hesitate. only for a second. then you do.

your feet move before you know it. you walk to her with your heart in your throat and your guard barely holding, and when you stop in front of her, ellie doesn’t move—not until you do. not until your knees brush against hers, light as a question.

she answers it by reaching up, slowly, fingertips grazing your hips. her eyes stay on yours. you’re confused again. you don’t understand why she wants to touch you, like this of all ways.

“still okay?” she murmurs.

“yeah,” you whisper.

and then she pulls you in. you crash into her, not fully losing control of your body but enough for her to take control and maneuver you to straddle her. her touch isn’t rough nor is it rushed. it’s small but has power. ellie knows what she’s doing.

she doesn’t kiss you. not yet. she waits. waits for you to decide.

and god, you want—no, you crave it, in that feral, bone-deep way that makes your skin itch. you want her mouth on yours, soft at first, maybe, just to mock you—but you want it to dissolve, fast, into something hungry. something unholy. you want her to kiss you like she’s starving, like she’s trying to crawl inside you through your mouth.

you want the spit. need the spit. thick, hot, shared and messy—her tongue in your mouth, sliding against yours, teeth knocking when it gets too desperate. you want it to drip, to smear, to cling to your lips and chin, to mark you in the most revoltingly human way. like her saliva belongs in your mouth. like yours belongs down her throat.

you want her to spit into you. mouth parted, eyes half-lidded, breath panting between kisses—and when she pulls away, you want it to trail between your mouths in slick strings. sticky, glistening. you want to taste her down to the root of your tongue.

you want it to ruin you. make your lips swollen, red, wrecked. make your jaw ache. you want to feel her breath enter you and exit in shudders. to drown in the taste of her, sweet and sharp, like blood and peaches and the end of the world.

the silence was killing you. like a sword penetrating skin. you stare into her eyes, deep and honest. if ellie wanted, she could get every confession out of you. she could make you admit how much you like her, she could make you say how badly you need her. make you tell her all the nasty thoughts your intoxicated brain is frying up.

your hands sneak to rest on her shoulders and you just hope she doesn’t say anything about you being desperate for her. she knows you are but ellie isn’t any better, after all, she did bring you up here for the exact reasons you’re thinking.

ellie moves in closer now—much closer than she was back in the kitchen. she’s always been bold like that. you’ve seen her before, at one of your brother’s parties, hand already halfway down some girl’s pants like it was nothing. she never cared who was watching. didn’t even seem to care how the girl felt about it, not really. maybe it was a distraction. maybe she just needed something to do with her hands.

if she wanted, she could’ve had you like that in the kitchen, but she chose to bring you to your room and be more open with her words. none of the teasing that make it seem that she was joking. she’s serious about this. she really does want you, needs to touch you.

her nose is touching yours, she doesn’t blink, just looks at you with a shine to her eyes, if you looked deep enough you could see that she’s holding back. she could take you right here right now but she chooses not to, she waits for you. she doesn’t want to take advantage. because it’s you, and she couldn’t live with herself after if she were to do so.

“ellie…” you say her name breathless, eyes trailing towards her lips. your tongue sticking out slightly licking your upper lip. you move your eyes back up to hers, reaching you hands to the back of her head to twist her hair between your fingers.

she answers you by slowly crashing her lips into yours, moving them against the plush skin when you open your mouth a little for her to slip her tongue in.

she kisses you like she means it—like she’s been waiting. her mouth is warm, slow at first, but there’s weight behind it, like she’s trying to memorize the shape of you. her tongue grazes yours, testing the waters, and you hum into it, your fingers tightening in her hair. she breathes in sharp through her nose, like she wasn’t expecting that.

ellie’s hands wander off around your body squeezing at your waist and hips, needing the flesh above clothes. she unsure about her touch, as if she squeezes you in some way you’ll tell her to stop, she careful but needy at the same time. she’s not rough or aggressive, but there’s a possessiveness to her hold, and it’s dark and full of desire.

ellie pulls back just barely, lips brushing yours as she speaks, her voice low and raspy. “you don’t know what you do to me.”

and she’s kissing down your neck, toying with the skin between her lips, making sure she leaves a mark to tease and laugh at you tomorrow. you know this but let her mark you either way, you’ll yell at yourself when you’re sober; realizing this was a mistake on your part because you gave in this easily.

but it was going to happen sooner or later, so why not now?

and you know exactly what you do to ellie. maybe not everything, maybe not the exact details, but you know what your presence does to her. the way she looks at you like you’re a loaded gun—dangerous, tempting, too easy to lose control around.

“then show me.” you whisper, a challenge and a plea in one. you move your palms to cup her face, tugging her up and kissing her harder this time, and she answers with a soft groan against you, her hands sliding beneath your shirt, palms flat against your spine as they pull you flat against her body. her hands, they’re calloused, warm, grounding. she doesn’t rush. her touch is reverent, tracing you like you’re something fragile and holy.

but you’re not, and she knows.

her teeth catch your bottom lip, not hard, just enough to make you gasp. she pulls away again, panting now, forehead pressed to yours. “if we do this…” she swallows.

“i need to know you want it. really want it.”

your thumb brushes the edge of her jaw, and she’s watching you like you’re the only thing in the world worth watching. she’s so close you can feel her heart racing against yours.

you nod. “i do.”

and ellie’s restraint finally snaps.

her hands move down to the plush flesh of your thighs, feeling the warmth of your blood beneath her fingertips as they grope you hard.

she kisses you again, rougher this time—hungry, desperate, her hands slipping further under your shirt, palms splayed wide across your bare back. her fingers dig into your skin, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough that you know she’s grounding herself with you. your mouth parts against hers, a quiet, needy sound slipping out before you can stop it. ellie swallows it down like she’s starved for it, chasing the noise with her tongue.

she shifts underneath you, tugging you impossibly closer by the hips until you’re straddling her properly, your thighs bracketing her waist. the heat between your bodies makes you dizzy. she presses her forehead to yours, breathing heavy, like she’s trying to hold herself back, but failing.

“gonna lose my mind,” she mutters, half to herself, before she kisses you again—messier this time, open-mouthed, your tongues sliding together with a slick, desperate sound that makes you ache in places you didn’t know could ache.

your hands roam too, almost frantic, pushing under her hoodie to feel the solid lines of her stomach, her ribs, the thin cotton of her tank top clinging to her. you tug at the fabric and she gets the hint, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank the hoodie off over her head, ruffling her hair and making her freckles stand out sharper under the low light.

“better?” she teases, breathless, voice wrecked and full of something dark.

you just nod, too stunned by the sight of her like this, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from kissing you. and she’s looking at you like she wants to ruin you, hands resting heavy on your thighs, thumbs stroking lazy circles over the fabric of your skirt.

ellie tugs at the hem of your shirt, fingers curling into the material. she doesn’t pull it off yet, just slips her hands under it again, feeling your bare waist, the dip of your lower back. her thumbs brush just under the edge of your bra, and you shiver.

“can i?” she asks, and you barely hear her over the pounding in your own head.

“please.” you whisper.

and that’s all it takes. she lifts your shirt over your head slow, almost reverently, like unwrapping something she’s been dying to get her hands on for years. your hair gets a little messed up in the process and she smiles at the sight of you, like you’re the best thing she’s ever seen.

her hands come up to cup your face, thumbs brushing your flushed cheeks. her eyes are wide, a little wild, like she still can’t believe you’re here, half-naked in her lap, asking for her.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” she murmurs, leaning in to kiss your jaw, your neck, the slope of your shoulder. anywhere she can reach. you’re squirming in her lap now, needy and impatient, your hands clutching at her tank top like you’re afraid she’ll disappear if you let go.

ellie groans low in her throat when your hips grind down, just a little, testing. the friction pulls a sharp breath from both of you. she grabs your hips, holding you still.

“easy,” she mutters, voice thick, “wanna take my time.”

you whimper at that, and she grins against your skin, proud and a little smug. ellie mouths at your chest, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the top of your bra, teasing, teasing, until you whine and tug at the straps, silently begging.

“okay, okay.” she chuckles, voice rough and fond, like she’s never heard anything better than you falling apart for her.

she helps you shrug out of your bra, tossing it somewhere across the room without looking, too busy staring at you. her hands come up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing experimentally over your nipples, watching the way your body reacts—your back arching, your mouth falling open in a silent gasp.

“jesus christ,” she mutters under her breath, more to herself than to you. “look at you.”

and then she’s leaning in, mouth closing around one nipple, sucking gently, tongue flicking, while her other hand toys with the other breast. the heat of her mouth sends sparks shooting straight to your core. you gasp, hands threading into her hair, holding her there like you might fly apart if she stops.

you rock your hips against her without thinking, chasing any kind of friction. ellie growls low in her chest, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“needy.” she mutters, pulling off you with a wet pop, dragging her mouth back up to kiss you again—deeper, messier, less polished than before. her hands slide down your back, squeezing your ass, dragging you harder against the ridge of her thigh.

“wanna feel you,” she rasps against your mouth.

“wanna make you cum just like this. fuck.”

you moan, high and broken, grinding shamelessly against her now, feeling the roughness of her jeans against the soaked fabric of your underwear. the friction is almost too much. almost not enough.

ellie kisses you harder, teeth clashing, spit slicking your chins together, hands everywhere—your hips, your thighs, your back, your ass. she rocks you against her thigh, murmuring filthy things into your mouth, barely coherent.

“so wet for me.” she pants, pulling back just enough to look down, to watch you rut against her thigh.

“fuck, look at you. makin’ a mess all over me.” you whimper, desperate, lost in it. in her.

“c’mon, baby,” ellie coaxes, voice rough and tender all at once.

“wanna feel you cum for me. just like this. show me how bad you need it.”

you shudder, the pressure building, unbearably sweet and sharp and right there. ellie keeps rocking you, keeps whispering in your ear, dirty, soft, wrecked herself.

and when you finally cum—when you break apart with a soft, bitten-off sob against her shoulder—ellie holds you through it, arms wrapped tight around you, grounding you, anchoring you.

“that’s it,” she murmurs, kissing the side of your head.

you slump against her, boneless, trembling, feeling like you might float away if she let go.

but she doesn’t.

she keeps holding you, kissing you, whispering promises you don’t have the strength to hear yet, not really. but it’s okay. you believe her anyway.

because it’s ellie. and she’s always meant it.

and just when you think she’s done, ellie shifts you, pushing you gently but firmly onto your back on the bed. climbs over you, fitting herself between your thighs like she belongs there. her hands trail down your sides, slowly, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your skirt, dragging it down your hips with agonizing patience.

you lift your hips for her without thinking, needy and frantic now, again. ellie’s mouth trails down your body as she goes—kisses on your belly, nips at your hips, leaving little stinging bites that make you gasp. she’s taking her time, savoring every inch of you like she’s been dreaming about this. maybe she has. maybe you have too.

when she gets the skirt off, she sits back on her heels for a second, just staring down at you, panting and trembling under her.

“you’re unreal,” she murmurs, voice rough with something almost reverent.

you reach for her, impatient now. “ellie—”

she smiles, wicked and sweet all at once, and leans down to kiss you again—deeper, slower, taking her time wrecking you. her hand slides between your legs, over the damp patch of your underwear, and you whimper into her mouth at the first touch.

you whine, hips bucking up into her hand, chasing the friction just like you did on her thigh. ellie shushes you, soothing, almost tender, rubbing slow circles over the wet spot right over your clit.

“gonna take real good care of you.” she promises, voice thick and syrupy.

you nod frantically, desperate for her, dizzy with it.

she slides your underwear to the side with one hand, not even bothering to take them off, and runs two fingers through your folds—testing, teasing. when she brushes your bare clit you gasp, clutching at her shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to earth.

ellie’s watching your face the whole time, eating up every little reaction you give her like it’s her new favorite meal.

“you’re gonna let me make you feel good?” she murmurs, voice low and wrecked with want.

“yes—yes, ellie, please—”

that’s all she needed to hear.

she slides one finger inside you, slow, careful, watching you for any sign of hesitation. when you moan—high and breathy—her restraint snaps. she pumps it in and out, building a rhythm, adding a second finger when you start grinding against her hand like you can’t help yourself.

her thumb finds your clit again, rubbing tight circles, and the pleasure starts to crest fast—faster than you’re ready for.

“that’s it,” ellie coos, mouth brushing your ear. “god, you’re so fucking pretty like this. wanna see you fall apart for me.”

you sob out something that might be her name, might just be a broken noise, as you tumble over the edge, more overwhelmed this time—clenching around her fingers, trembling so hard your vision whites out. ellie fucks you through it, slow and sweet, murmuring praise into your skin until you finally, finally go still beneath her.

a dragged out orgasm flushing inside you, stick around her fingers still deep inside you, toying with the squishy spot.

ellie doesn’t pull away immediately—just presses kisses along your jaw, your neck, the shell of your ear, whispering how good you were, how gorgeous you are, how she’s never wanted anything so bad in her life.

and when you finally catch your breath enough to open your eyes, she’s smiling down at you—soft, adoring, like you hung the stars in her sky.

“still scared of me?” she teases.

you laugh, too weak to reply.

you whisper something incoherent, and pull her back down into a kiss. because if this is what being scared of her feels like, you never want to be brave again.

©opt1mistic

bbf!ellie covering your mouth to hide your whimpers, her other hand dug deep between your thighs and rubbing you ever so gently. “shhh, baby… we gotta stay quiet,” you could feel her breath fanning your ear, her lips already brushing against it. if it wasn’t for her suppressing your moans, you’d probably have half the world banging at your door, the first people in line probably being everyone else in the house.

your relationship— situationship? something along those lines, it was a mess. from long stares across the room to passionate kissing… to her fingers being knuckle-deep inside of you. everything was a mess. everything was confusing. but you knew one thing for damn sure: never to let your brother find out.

“fuck, ellie,” you tried to mutter out under her hand, “don’t leave anymore marks.” well, that was a first for you. it’s better to be cautious, though. last time she marked up your neck, you had to pull out the ‘curling wand’ card, even then, it was just barely believable. she stifled out a laugh at your words, continuing to drag her teeth along your neck. her body molding into yours, pressing up against you while also pressing you up against the wall.

“s’pretty. how could i stay away from you?” you could feel her lips on your neck. soft. warm. wet. god, just her kisses alone could have you chasing a climax. her nipples peeking out from an old high-school t-shirt that wrapped loosely around her body and you can only imagine how wet she is under those plaid briefs. while your mind wanders, her touch gets hotter on your skin. her fingers dipped between your folds, her other hand pressing even tighter against your lips, letting no more noises come out of you.

her lips had a mind of their own, attacking your neck with her teeth just barely biting on your delicate skin. “i’ll be gentle with you, baby. you know i always am.” she knew what she was doing. she kept you nice and quiet, all pretty and pathetic under her power. she knew how to make you crumble. make you cum. she knew what you loved and what you hated. and she definitely heard you tell her no marks.

“e-ellie…” a quiet moan barely escaped as you felt her teeth sink in, “mmph— shit.” it was all so much. the rhythm of her fingers growing faster, teeth sinking deeper into your neck, her front pressed up right against your ass. she was so close and yet you were even closer.

“mhmm. you’re s’good for me. always lettin’ me fuck you whenever i want,” she finally raised her head up to whisper into your ear, “anytime, anywhere, all the fuckin’ time, huh?” grunting against the back of your head, breathing heavier. “s’fucking good to me.”

SUCKER — PROLOGUE, something new

gorgeous fanart by @nramv , edited by me

↫ masterlist next ↬

info: rain appears to be the centre of your new life, as well as your newest enemy. you try to adapt to the cold town of jackson while simultaneously remeeting what seems to be every person in town, bracing yourself for the first day of school. MOODBOARD + PLAYLIST

cw: reader smokes and she's 17 (soon to be 18) so underage, set in the 2000's!

wc: 3.5k

note: oh goody im excited, as you can tell its based on twilight. thank you to my friend E for proofreading!

as soon as you get into your dad’s car, the first thing it starts to do is rain. pour rain. the sunny weather suddenly vanishing before your eyes, and all hope you had of this place being slightly like your old home disappears in an instant. jackson. a small town in the state of wyoming, always cloudy, always raining. population: 3,120 people. you haven’t visited since you were 13. no matter how much the gloominess would obviously appeal to you, your mother kept you close, leaving your father to his own as the police chief. trees fly beside you as you stare outside, arm propped up on the side of his work car, paying close attention to the droplets falling on the glass window.

you both don't speak. you had already done the pleasantries, nice to see you, you’ve grown up so much, blah blah blah. it’s clear he has more to say, but you really don’t. you’re only here to make your mom happy, without you. over the years you've made the accidental habit of raising your mother instead of your mother raising you, so in a way you’re thankful for the change of scenery.

you remember the days with your dad when you were younger, how gentle he was with you and how much he cared, and although he’s trying his hardest not to show it, you can see how he holds just as much love for you as he did then, regardless of the 12 years that have passed. the rain pats gently all around you, and you close your eyes to soak it in. something new is what you’ve been needing. what you’ve been craving. you can't fully blame your mother for wanting to soak in the feeling of her new marriage, and to have complete freedom. she’s not the only reason you moved, anyways. things weren’t working out for you back there. you had no purpose, you didn't know what you were doing or what job you wanted to go into. simply making it day by day alongside your best friend.

the car jolts to a stop, pulling you out of your train of thought and forcing you to face your new home. it’s not raining anymore, and the house is the same as you remember it. two stories, painted white with a dusty brown roof, detailing wherever it can go. your dad is already out of the car, opening the boot and hauling out your luggage. bracing yourself and rolling your sleeves as far up your palms as they can go, you open the door. cool air hitting you instantly, the slippery pavement almost making you collapse on yourself.

“you good, bear?”

bear. oh god how you’ve missed your dad. you cant believe you almost forgot that nickname.

letting out a shaky exhale, you answer “yeah, sorry just slipped a little.”

he’s beside you in an instant, your luggage taking up both of his hands.

“oh here let me help you-”

“no, no im fine. i’m not that old yet,” he jokes, turning towards you for a minute and offering a soft smile in which you return “well, welcome to your new home.” he makes the first move to go inside, and you quickly reach for your purse still sitting in the passenger seat of his car; grabbing it quickly before closing the door and following after him. trying your absolute hardest to not fall and die on the driveway.

you both walk in silence, the house smelling as it always has. woody, rainy, and fresh. the tiles look as if they have been freshly polished, and the downstairs feels much less roomy than you remember. he guides you upstairs into the same room you remember spending countless nights in as a child, not giving you much time to process the downstairs. you make a mental note to explore more later. he drops your luggage to the side while you continue analysing it. its pretty open, direct space in front of you and a small hallway-like area off to the side, your closest on the wall opposite there. the bed resting in front of you against the wall is new, he changed the bedsheets, the pink florals have been replaced with a dusty purple floral design. there are matching pillowcases as well as a swan pillow perfectly placed in front of it, a darker shade of purple belonging to the sheets peeking out from underneath the duvet.

the rest of the room has also seemingly been revamped. there are fairy lights all around the ceiling, adding some nice warmth to the room. the shelves that rest on your wall in front of your bed next to the window have been emptied, and the window seat right beside, almost like an extension of your bed, has the same purple theme going, a fluffy throw blanket messily thrown in place, alongside some simple decorative pillows, lace curtains adding some simplicity. you already know you’ll be spending most of your time there.

next is the desk, right in front of your bed, just before the room extends. a lace tablecloth matching the curtains and acting as a shield to the wood. there’s what seems to be a fairly recent laptop model and some books adorning it, a mirror hanging right above it, alongside some storage underneath it. the chair seems comfy, just a simple wooden one, matching the desk. you assume he left the room mostly empty to incorporate as much of your old life as possible, but part of you wishes you didn't have to carry anything here. that you could leave no trail of your past here, but you appreciate the thought he’s given you nonetheless, and how he’s seemingly overly aware you’re no longer a child.

the last thing you investigate is the extension, there's a full length mirror at the end, but for the most part the extra room is mostly empty. there’s a bulletin board beside the mirror, and an extra wooden dresser to the side. just for safety, even though your clothes will probably take up less than half of the closet.

“wow… you really went all out.” you compliment, although it seems to raise slight alarm in him.

“sorry if it’s too much, i just wanted to let you take control. but also not have your old childish things…” he drones on for a little, but you’re too busy admiring your room. you feel better about the move already, aware that your dad will give you the space you need, while also actively caring for you and ensuring you’re safe. pros of living with the chief of police: you’re pretty much guaranteed safety. cons: you can’t be as open to him about bad habits as you would like.

you interrupt him before he spirals more, “it’s perfect, dad. purple’s cool. thank you.” you softly smile at him, throwing your purse onto your bed while starting to visually plan what you could add. the bedside table in front of you looks like it could use some decoration, and you’re already planning on going out into town to collect some small bits and pieces you might be able to use.

you flop down on your bed, just avoiding your purse, front facing the ceiling. the weight of the day slowly being lifted off of you while the exhaustion takes over.

“well, uh, i guess i’ll leave you to it.” your dad stands in the center of the room, hands on his hips as his bulky uniform makes his shadow appear unusually large. “the anderson’s will be here soon. any minute now, knowing them.”

“the andersons?” the name sounds so familiar, yet you’re finding it difficult to put a name to the face. sitting up to look at your dad on your elbows, legs hanging off the surprisingly comfortable bed.

“er yeah. abby and owen. they’re bringing you a present. well, a gift from me,” he clicks his tongue, contemplating what to say next, scared that he’ll spoil the surprise “you know what, you’ll see.” and he leaves it at that, going to exit your room as you lay back down on your bed, trying your hardest to remember who the fuck abby and owen are. but just like clockwork, the doorbell rings, and hearty chuckles can be heard from just below your window.

you sigh, and your dad chuckles to himself. his back facing you as he makes his way out of your room, footsteps booming down the stairs. you sit there for a moment, still racking your brain for who exactly the anderson’s are. as far as you’re concerned, they haven’t been mentioned until now. deciding the better way to solve this mystery is to actually see and talk to them, you groan before begrudgingly getting out of bed. jeans rustling against the sheets as your black chucks follow after your dad down to the front door, just below your bedroom, and right in front of your window. by the time you make it down, he’s only just opening the door to greet them. the warmth leaves your body as the cold air blows in, and although you’re technically wearing layers, it does little to help.

rushing to the door and practically stumbling over your feet while doing so, you come face to face with two people who’s memories instantly rush to mind. those anderson’s.

“nice to see you finally join us,” owen jokes, making eye contact with you, abandoning whatever conversation he had been having with your dad moments before. abigail stands to his side, fuck, she looks nothing like you remember. she looks hot. you check her out, shamelessly at that. you know she can see you, and you swear her lips have curved up into a slight smirk.

you laugh at owen, mustering up the last of your energy to figure out what to say next, “you know me. it's nice to see you guys, it's been too long.” you leave the doorstep, moving outside to the pavement, once again overly aware of how you’re moving, really trying to not slip and embarrass yourself. reaching to hug owen who reciprocates instantly, he smells like citrus somehow. you let go of the hug first, giving a smile and turning your attention to abby, a stupid smirk still plastered on her face. she's wearing a tight fitting white long sleeve and cargo pants. how she is warm is something you don't think you’ll be able to solve. she opens her arms for a hug and you reach for her, being engulfed instantly. she smells like oil, and amber. an oddly comforting mix.

“nice to see you,” she whispers.

you stay lost in the moment for only a second longer before responding, “you too.”

it's not a whisper, but still barley spoken, and you force yourself to be free from her grasp. you haven’t seen her in years, and you’re not sure why you expected her to still look like how she did when you were practically babies.

“so, how have things been?”

owen and your dad are lost in their own conversation, so you take it upon yourself to continue talking to abby.

“eh, same as always. i started fixing up cars and stuff, working out as you seemingly have already noticed.”

your cheeks flush red, so she did notice. “don’t flatter yourself, abigail. it’s been awhile, i’m just surprised to see you is all.” you defend, crossing your arms over your chest.

she laughs, throwing her hands up in defense. “how about you?”

you don't even hesitate to answer, “it's just weird being back here. i have not visited since the last time i saw you when we were what? 12?”

she thinks for a moment, most likely doing the maths in her head. “13, actually. how weird is that?”

“so weird,” you laugh, and she joins in alongside you.

as it dies down, she desperately makes an attempt to keep talking to you “what school you going to?”

“jackson, unfortunately. oh god, please tell me you are as well. it would be so good to already have a friend there!” you plead

she sighs and shakes her head, putting a hand on her hip. “sorry princess, i'm down on the firefly side. and before you get angry, i drove an hour out here.”

you frown at her, eyebrows furrowing. how the hell were you gonna make it through your first day now? you decide not to dwell on it too long, you would cope with that tomorrow when the issue presented itself.

analysing your surroundings, you notice a truck sitting right behind abby. it was pretty old, but you honestly found it pretty. a navy blue, rusty truck. abby follows your eyes, smiling.

“hey uh, i think the princess has spotted something important.”

she gains the attention of both owen and your dad.

“oh my goodness of course how could i forget,” your dad scolds himself as owen snickers to himself off to the side, “uh, i know it’s not exactly much, bear, but this is my house warming gift to you. i've already paid for it from this fool, and i wanted you to have your own way to get to school and wherever else you wanna go, really. so…”

your smile widens significantly, tucking your hands into your back pockets. “thank you so much dad. i love it.”

“and credit to me for fixing it all up, thank you very much,” abby chimes in, and you giggle at her bluntness.

“i cannot thank you guys enough,” you express, looking around at the people before you.

“it’s just something to get you started, but you must be tired,” the blonde in front concludes, reading you as perfectly as she did six years ago, you smile at her with gratitude.

“oh of course! you've had a full day of travelling and you have to get up pretty early tomorrow. we’ll leave you to it, it was nice to see you. make sure to get lots of rest tonight.” owen wraps up, releasing you from social interaction.

abby tosses you the keys, you catching them effortlessly.

“of course, and i’ll come visit you guys as soon as possible. get home safe!” you add on.

your dad says his own goodbyes as the two pile into owens car, abby in the drivers seat. they wave you goodbye as they leave, and you really do plan on seeing them as soon as you can.

you hadn’t even noticed the night settling over you as you and your dad make your way back into the house.

“you want some dinner, bear? i made some pasta before.”

as terrible as you feel turning down his offer, the only thing you really feel like doing is freshening up and going to bed.

“sorry dad, i’m pretty dead. i’ll snag some to have for breakfast tho!” you promise, making your way up the stairs while he lingers down in the living room, going to turn on the tv.

having a quick shower and changing into your pajamas (that only consisted of a tank top and underwear), you called down a quick goodnight to your dad and shut your door, sighing. you had barely done anything today, yet felt more tired than you had in months.

but you had a routine, and that routine got you to where you were now. jumper thrown on while you crawled over your bed to your windowsill seat, lighter and cigarette in hand. although your room is warm thanks to a heater, you’re taking safety measures in advance and preparing yourself for the cold air that will breeze through. you open the curtains, then the blinds, and finally the window. you sit back comfortably, back laid against the wall beside the window while your legs are stretched across, you lean into the open window and flick your lighter alive, it being the only light source other than the small glow of street lights and the warm fairy lights around you. holding the cigarette to your lips, you light it gently, the flame catching instantly.

you inhale the smoke, sighing in relief at the alleviation it was already starting to grant. placing the lighter back into your bag, you remove the cigarette from your lips for a moment, exhaling the smoke and admiring the woods that lay directly opposite to you, before your truck catches your eye again. no matter how old it is, you’re just glad you have something to get you from place to place. you didn't have that back in seattle. taking another puff, you sit there and soak in the first night. grabbing your phone to reply to your moms messages that had been coming in non stop since before your plane even took off. answering all of them in a haste. yes i landed safely. yes, dad is nice. i got a car. my school is sorted, i already told you a month ago i start the day after i arrive. i'm good. how are things with him? goodnight.

you sit there for the next 20 minutes or so, playing snake on your razr phone. you occasionally dust the ash off out the window and make a mental note to buy an ashtray, something you had somehow forgotten to bring along with you, before calling it a night. the clock reading 10 pm, your outfit for your first day already resting on your desk chair. shoulder bag right beside it, you were prepared enough. cigarette stashed in the side pocket, just in case. but you had to be careful with your use, you only had a pack left and you weren’t sure where you would be able to buy more, if you would be able to at all.

falling into a deep slumber, you’re awake and preparing for school before you know it. you haven't had the opportunity to unpack yet, so you’re frantically running around your room trying to find the pair to your earring, and trying to figure out how your concealer has suddenly gone missing, and you really thought you had prepared enough the night before.

grunting in frustration you decide to just leave as is, transferring your shitty spare concealer you held in your purse to your bag as well as your small jewelry box, you would deal with it when you got there. your outfit and hair were simple, opting for a v neck long sleeve layered with a blouse and skinny jeans, and an extra jacket looped around your arm with spare fuzzy gloves in your bag.

you can't stop for breakfast, calling out to your dad a thank you! in which he just looks up from his newspaper in shock, before shaking his head and looking back down, unbothered at your antics. you make a beeline for your truck, phone and keys in hand, then you slip.

too focused on getting to the car, you forget that jackson's pavement actually ices over. causing you to land flat on your ass. you whine instinctively, sitting up and rubbing your butt, feeling as it's now wet and you have no time to change. exactly what you needed. you don't let it stop you any longer as you rancorously unlock and enter your vehicle, tossing your backpack in the passenger seat beside you. do you have any idea where you’re going? no. does it stop you from pulling out of the driveway and hoping for the best anyways? no. you’re just hoping you’ll spot another teen driving to jackson highschool soon enough and be able to follow them.

to your luck, you actually do make it to school relatively on time, thanks to that random kid that was probably fearing for their life thanks to your following. you take the spare minute you have to sit in your truck and mentally prepare yourself. you got a decent parking spot and rush to yank the concealer out of your bag, methodically applying it with the trucks rear view mirror, not bothering to return it to your bag when it's done, grabbing your jewelry box and selecting a few rings and finally finding your other earring, applying all of them on, putting the box back next to your concealer. untucking the necklace you always wore out from your undershirt. after deciding you look presentable, you do the hardest part, leaving your truck, thankfully not slipping this time.

everyone’s eyes are on you immediately, people whispering to each other. your arrival somehow already being anticipated. you keep your head down, trying your best to not focus on all the eyes following your every move, navigating through the crowd and up the stairs to the entry, before somebody enthusiastically rushes up beside you.

“hi! i’m cat, you must be the new girl. i’ve been assigned to show you around.”

“hey, it’s nice to meet you.”

you cautiously introduce yourself as enthusiastically as you can, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. you have no idea where you’re going, and cat can most likely tell from your facial expression.

“here,” she titters, “i’ll bring you to the office. my friends, well, your friends too now if you wanna sit with us, are just down the hall. we’ll meet up with them after!”

cats' confidence and welcoming comforts you beyond words, and the day doesn't feel so bleak anymore. hopefully, it’ll stay like that.

next.

★ cupid carries a gun.

open up your skull, i'll be there climbing up the walls.

cw # 18+ mdni, modern au, mentions of marijuana, dealer+loser!ellie, blink and you miss a slight pervert behavior, sub!reader, switch!slightdom ellie, pussyslapsyum, pet names, fingering, public sex.

wc: 4.9k (idk how this happened) // request more ellie shit pls.

the first time she saw you, she called you bro by accident.

it happens unexpected. ellie's been selling weed for a while now and she's used to get random text messages from unknown numbers: a friend of a friend, a recommendation from some old client — of course when she got your text you're not going to receive special treatment, not when she greets you like she would greet a guy, asking you where to meet since the club's big.

you're friends with cat, that's how you got her number. your usual provider is being insane with ridiculous prices you cannot afford not even by chance, so you're searching for someone else, a reliable source you can buy your weed from without getting into much trouble.

she’s perfect for the job.

it's a surprise either way when you tell her to meet you close to the main stairs in the first floor, and you think you saw her by the time you get there, but before you can approach your phone lights up with a new notification from an unknown number you now recognize.

you like it, making them think you’re a man, confuse the people you buy weed from. it's funny cause it's not the first time it happens, matter of fact, it's really common as you approach the auburn haired girl, noticing she's far less intimidating than your last seller, less tattoos on the face to instead, be covered in freckles and green eyes.

and to ellie — it's clear you aren't a bro too.

you don't pay much attention since it's a quick interaction, but to ellie its enough to make her spiral. too much weed, too much booze that night made her look at you like you're most beautiful girl out there, barely illuminated by the sporadic lights that changes time to time as you approach to her in a nice top of a band she also hears.

"hey. sorry to make you wait" you're too kind to her rough heart, yet from up close she's able to look at your face properly: where the fuck did you know cat from? why she hadn't seen you before too? was she hiding you from her?

"ellie," she presents herself like you do and she's almost a little shy to ask you to walk with her to a less crowded space, cause it sounds different from when she usually asks, slapping herself mentally for being so lame when she meets a pretty girl in a situation like this: don't be a fucking pussy. "do you mind if we move to a quieter place?"

"no, no problem" you reply "i was going to ask you the same, actually. don't want to get kicked out from here."

and you must be really trustful person, cause ellie could be a bad person and you're following her willingly, entering a dirty, small bathroom only to lock the door beneath her not really knowing her true intentions. you know she's not going to do anything when she's nervously speaking to you as the space got way reduced.

"so, you're friends with cat" what's she even doing? trying to pull off some small talk she sucks for? either way your nodding as ellie gives you a small bag with an smiley face on it, letting you see the weed she's going to sell you out first — "you study here in this university?"

"yeah, it’s my last year" you say inspecting the weed with a pleased look, sure you're buying when you take a deep breath and it seems like actual weed and not a fucking rock so tight it seems it came in somebody's ass, good smell, some purple there between different shades of green "film school."

"sick," she looks at you for a moment since you're too busy looking at the product. under the white lights ellie can see the details on your face now, the small moles, the scars, things she wasn't aware of as she wasn't so close as she is now — "it's okay? you like it?"

“smells real good, my last supplier was pretty shit and always had the same strain" you find her concern cute, sure she must take pride in selling good stuff, maybe that's why cat shared her number so reluctant to it, you'd gatekeep a good dealer too.

“that’s lemon haze” ellie explains as a subtle layer of red spreads right over her nose, must be the weather inside the bathroom or something like that, but it's hot as she stares at your eyes and she's betting you must be thinking she's the weirdest girl in the planet. her flannel's too fucking tight, too thick. "it's a nice sativa, wont leave you stupid nor like a hungry animal."

girls like you may be out of her league, but even when ellie's brain saying the same, it does not matter when your fingers brush against hers and you're laughing at her bad joke, giggling like she's oh so funny and it's enough. it may be a tactic she's falling all the way in when saying a lower price than regular and your eyes widen cause you don't believe it: why would such a good quality be cheaper than the usual shit?

"you study in this university too?" you curiously ask as if you're trying to catch the trick, clever girl. she’s selling you cheaper to secure you.

"forensic science" you seemed a bit surprised by it since you didn't talk much to stem girls in general, being in two different fields: hot— "it’s my last year too."

"that sounds cool, never met someone who study that," you say as you're pulling out 20$ for at least 3 grams of top-graded-weed: she's fucking stupid for selling that quality for less than $30 "well nice to meet you ellie, if i don't get poisoned with your weed, you'll be definitely hearing more from me."

and she wants to say something flirty, something with her usual witty charm and her sarcastic replies she loves by heart, but instead of saying something clever, ellie ends up stuttering, tripping in her own words as she nods.

"i- uh- yes sure. save my contact and text me anytime."

fuck it, cause it does get her to know you'll be talking to her again someday, maybe this week, maybe the next, tomorrow. her weed is hella good and her own brain is feeding her delusions cause as far as she knows you might as well be the biggest heterosexual girl in university, but you're there waving her goodbye with a warm smile and your perfume lingers in the air for a while even when you're not there.

so ellie stays in the cubicle for a minute. the longest minute of her life when she takes a deep breath at the scent, discovering the fruity notes, the damn strawberries sweet as ever now impregnated under her nose.

fucking cat cause she must have kept you all to herself, pure selfish reasons — ellie thought they were in good terms.

it's crazy to say she would've done the same if you were her friend too.

the second time ellie sells you weed you're talking with your friends seated in a secluded spot of the main quad and the sun hits your skin just in the correct way to make her mouth go dry.

you're using this straight sinful sundress in blue and white, covering from the fresh air in a denim jacket and it looks so good she needs to check you actually messaged her in the first place and didn't imagined the whole thing.

she politely greets everyone but her attention drifts back to you when ellie's sitting close like you're friends with her before the people you’re hanging out with.

"was it good?" she asks, blatantly checking you out you're resting over your elbows, letting the exposed parts of your body fill out with vitamin d after being trapped in class for what it seems an eternity, and ellie feels trapped too, slightly different cause she's experiencing the victorian era on the flesh when only a glimpse of your ankles is enough to kill her — "guess it was if you're texting to meet up again."

"yeah, seems like you got the best weed in the whole place" you laugh, each time warming up to her as you reply under a pair of black shades that make you look so fucking attractive: her weed, the best. "good job, ellie."

awfully good price. outstanding for you, only loses for her.

the third time, you're meeting her outside class and her friends joke calling you her girlfriend as ellie quickly walks away hoping you didn't hear them: do you talk to her about dinosaurs too, williams? you're too polite to say you find it cute.

by the fifth time you're on her car and the silence is so damn loud as the music sound softly in the speakers, some song you say you like as ellie turns up the volume so you can hear it better. you're humming to the tune, a two-minute song as she pretends to be searching for the weed on her bag, taking more time on purpose.

"are you going to take the same three grams or you feel generous this time?"

"no, just three" you reply to her question. you've become quite aware of her consistent gaze on you now after weeks of selling you grass, personally giving you the best, making the moment linger without you noticing until you actually do catch on her subtle tactics— "that way i can text sooner and see you again this week."

ellie’s clueless most of the days but with that? anyone would notice you're flirting, blatantly as you look up to her and your dealer struggles to resist the need on her hands to pin you against the passenger seat and lean all over the console to go on and kiss you until you clearly state what you want. no playing around the bushes this time. demand, as her stomach turns, what do you mean by that.

do you want to see her more? that's why you buy three grams and talk to her every three or four days? are you, by any chance, not straight?

“if you want to see me during the week, you might just ask” ellie says mirroring your tone “like you ask to buy weed from me, s’not that hard.”

you’re the one who's nervous now, and she considers on giving you the weed as a gift before you’re paying. loses, you only mean loses in her economy at this point — and it's driving her hella mad when you get out the car and ellie’s left there with the need to have you as closer as you possibly agree to.

silk fabric slipping through her fingers.

the sixth time, ellie decides she's going to do something about it. about her needs. there’s no actual way you’re not flirting with her, the image of you in the passenger seat still sealed freshly on her mind even if it was a week ago, repeating it over and over again — you got her staring at your profile pic, debating if she can or cannot masturbate with the pictures you’ve shared on instagram from spring break in fucking california, liking your post cause it’s the only way she dares to interact, a way of saying she’s there.

in the middle of a saturday night, thinking about you. two in the morning and it’s all fucking you.

she should make up her mind. you’re a good buyer, and she wishes to keep it that way. you don’t ask for later payments, you constantly buy and don't share her number with weirdo friends like everyone else does, you're a reliable source surely: so why does her heart stops in her chest cavity when her phone's buzzing and ellie's reading the name she saved your contact with?

right. her pathetic crush on you.

her fingers move on their own before she considers to delay her response five minutes to seem busy.

she wont charge you double.

shit. it's two in the morning and she's selling you weed driven by the desire to see you again, using this gray hoodie to protects herself from the cold autumn breeze as she's pulling up to this party totally uninvited, passing the open door like it's her own house as zeta phi seems to be fully loaded now as the music sound loud and strident as all her hopes of catching you alone goes to the trash can.

no she’s not going to charge you double, she’s just guilty she’s so into you without you having any idea of it.

where you waiting for her arrival? fuck. her brain is acting up like a backstabbing bitch and ellie cannot help it as you appear radiant under a sea of people. you're not saying a word either when you're lacing your fingers with her's and you're pulling on your dealer upstairs, feet moving on their own as she don't make a single effort to resist your magnet-like influence in her very self.

ellie’s hand are sweaty cause she's so fucking nervous but you don't seem to care about it, looking back at her from over your shoulder only to offer a smile she cannot wrap her head around for a moment.

"can i ask where you're taking me?" she questions you, hoping her voice doesn't sound like that really, so strained and rough from just see you around — "or am i your hostage now?"

"we need a more private space to buy" you state like it's obvious "duh, the rooftop's empty. i stole the key."

ellie should've know you were a walking hazard.

cause it really seems like an achievement when you're opening the rooftop door, mischief grin as you look twice behind your back paranoid as ever someone can see what you're doing; and ellie chuckles at the sudden adventure, how you're closing the door when you invite her to step in with a subtle head movement, quickly shoving the key back to the pocket in your skirt.

cute. she thinks you’re cute.

it's empty like you said, and the knowledge makes every hair on her arms stand on their own even when she's wearing this thick hoodie that protects her from the cold.

"cannot risk my dealer of getting in trouble down there" you explain now that you can talk to her at a decent volume, and she fully eats it even when it's a clear lie and you're making up excuses to get her away from the noise.

"very kind, gonna name you my knight in shinning armor if you keep this up."

you're panting the spot right next to you as you take a seat in the over-used lounge chair with a tiny wooden table in front of it, and like a trained animal, ellie follows cause it's the perfect spot to leave her backpack as her brain keeps buzzing at the name you used to call her seconds before— my dealer.

she is, by all means, your dealer. it makes her chest fill out with a different kind of emotion, sound so fucking intimate, so nice.

"gonna buy the usual three grams, princess?" your knee brushes against her, and ellie's breathing hitches cause you're wearing this black-sheer stockings all the way to your upper thigh and she becomes aware of it when the material slips down as you're seated, skirt raising slightly upwards against the muscles of your legs: one movement and she swears she'd be able to see your underwear and ellie has to once again, remind herself how you quickly reduce her to this behavior; this state, shoved in a sea of pure filth — "or did you just call me because you wanted to see me tonight?"

she's feeling lucky tonight even when she never feels that way, a strike of confidence ellie feels as a rush on the blood: you give her a sight of your legs and now she's all over the damn place? loser behavior.

"is it that obvious?" you want her to kiss you. it's a need that installs deep down in your chest, and if you're not making it obvious by then you're definitely doing it now: you're not straight, you're not bulletproof to the holes her eyes make on your skin every time you have the pleasure to be left alone in her company, you're not giving up on this constant game of seduction you like to play "i'm buying weed too, so coming up here actually matters for you."

"haven't we state that already?" ellie asks, looking up to you as she drinks in the sight of you under the almost invisible light of the stars up in the sky "if you want to see me during the week-"

"might as well just ask" you completed for her as ellie grabs her bag so she can pull your weed from it. the best three grams she has in her power "i know that- thank you."

"it's a gift" she finally dares to say it now — "don't pay me this time."

has she ever felt this way before? never. the overwhelming pull, the reminder you're not her's? stings on ellie's skin like tiny needles. it's not a big deal, once again she's losing money all reckless, but fuck- it's worth it, worth it when ellie see you malfunction for a long moment, brain short-circuiting cause you don't expect it.

"that's not the deal."

"i don't care what our deal is, you're my best client, and i take care of my clients” it’s simple as she says it “sides. the weed does not matter, seeing you was payment already.”

"don't go yet," you add before she's making a movement to get up, hands cold wrapping around her arm as you pull her down to the lounge chair you're so comfortably seated — "smoke with me. let's talk for a while."

and she knows it's dangerous, but you're batting your eyelashes, looking at her with this sly smirk on your face she wants to kiss away and ellie has no option but to stay there buried in your side, your fingers still tight against her arm muscles as you make her stay.

"okay, but i need you to let go of me baby- i can't roll a joint with you all over."

liar.

she just want to see you get all flustered because of her as her fingers swiftly roll a joint without much effort, allowing the smoke to fill the air seconds after before you’re sneezing and she notices how you shiver on her side, turning her face to look back at your pretty face she’s been avoiding to stare so much.

"you cold?" she asks, and you do not want to admit it, but ellie's taking her hoodie off and it's a fucking sight when she's wearing this white tank top she does not care about until she can physically feel the shift of the air between you and her, caught up with your eyes checking her out as she lights up the joint.

"thank you," and for being a stoner, it's smells surprisingly nice as you relish on the warmth of it, comfortable now as you watch her smoke "i'll gave it to you downstairs."

"go home with it. you're going to catch a cold like this."

the silence it's imminent for a moment before she's passing you the joint an you're holding it between your fingers.

"i like your tattoo" is it also an excuse? not really, but ellie's bringing her arm closer to you as she's showing it under the flashlight of her phone cause she likes it too, showoff — "can i touch it?"

any other time she'd be denying it mumbling something stupid about hating random people to go on and touch her scarred arm but you're not a random girl. so she's whispering a barely audibly yes, and your fingertips are tracing the pattern etched on her skin, taking your time in doing so.

"it suits you," you praise as you touch, and she's fucking melting there under simple caresses, under something so simple as your fingers tracing her inked flesh, invisible shapes as you just want to keep your hand on her "did it hurt too much when you got it done?"

"yeah, sort of" it's not really like she's trying to sound cool, in all honest, she's just trying to be coherent now as you keep touching her skin as you smoke. invested in questions she's answering in full auto-pilot.

you're high after a while, and it's her weed that makes you look like that. half lidded, a lazy smile on your lips as you keep talking to her, red eyes, slower than ever: shit. she'd devour you all.

“have you ever shotgunned smoke into someone’s mouth?” you ask curiously, and the question comes out of nowhere as you stare at her blowing the smoke, a warmth creeping upon her neck as she notices the way you’re staring at her, ellie’s blushing.

selling you weed and not be able to get high with you every single time must be named one of the most horrible crimes in humanity.

“when i was like, 17?" ellie replies thinking for a moment "i dunno, thought it was the hottest thing ever- have you?”

“no, not really."

and to be fair, ellie's high too. she's testing a new strain with you and the words roll out of her tongue so easily she has no time to regret it, not when you're looking at her like you want her to get handsy there in a damn lounge chair, to hell if it’s in the middle of nowhere or not.

“want me to do it for you?” she asks, a gentleman as usual “i’ll gladly be the first.”

it takes a moment for you to consider it before your voice is all low and husky — "mhm."

“come here then miss,” ellie says using a finger to call you out, the joint already on her lips before she takes a long drag — “sit on my lap and open your mouth f’me.”

it's devastating.

your weight on top of her, your ass in her leg as she can see again, those transparent sheer stockings that must be damn useless against the cold, and her hand rest on your upper thigh there where she looked before.

you're so obedient. your skirt is a sinful invitation to touch further, and you're parting her mouth for her so she can get closer, and as she smokes, ellie does get closeto you. closer than she’s ever been — more than the car, the bathroom in the party she met you, mere inches before she's shotgunning the smoke in your parted lips and you're smoking from the same weed that was in her lungs.

"17-years-old ellie was right" you reply, not really moving to give her space as ellie's fingers squeeze your leg like a reminder you're there still, sated on your dealer's lap, her hands on you — "it is the hottest thing ever."

it's almost a chronicle of a death foretold, cause ellie's kiss does not surprise you at the slightest. it's demanding and sloppy cause she's high, you're high, and she's a victim of this force she cannot escape near you.

so she keeps on kissing you until your lips are swollen and you're simply there, slowly wanting more, squeezing your legs together cause you don't want to be a slut now — no. you don't want her to know you're soaking over a few kisses, at ellie's fingers pulling on your high stockings down till they are no longer there anymore.

"you're a fucking menace" she says between kisses, breathing heavier now by the seconds: ellie already noticed— "a menace to me, to my weed and my economy, you know that? how you make me sell out my stuff at half the price cause i want you as my secured client?"

despite her words, she's pushing you closer to her so you can feel her rib cage pressed against you, the goosebumps you produce just from being close to her, red lips and messy hair.

"it’s your loss ellie, cause i'd pay for the full price."

"mmhm well shit, you're really lucky cause you do give damn good kisses" she murmurs, fingers toying with the hem of your skirt now and she has the damn audacity to keep on smoking cause she's now confident on her effect, how you’re all affected by her touch — "and if you give damn good kisses, i'm betting all my money that you have an even better pussy for me."

the sounds you're making? fuck. she’s creaming her panties already when you're letting her touch you so freely and it’s not near enough.

"what is it going to be then, huh?" she asks curiously, her mouth already following the path down to your collarbone, your cleavage before she’s taking her time in leaving red-purplish hickeys there hidden beneath her own gray hoodie "should we make it to our seventh selling or you're going to let me play with your needy cunt as a much deserved reward?"

shit. shit. shit. you're so fucking wet when you're parting your legs further apart to give her a nice view of your underwear, a damp spot already there between your legs who’s enough to make her mouth water with the thought of burying her face between your thighs, intoxicate with the smell you're emanating and she feels already under her nose.

good fucking girl. she wants to praise you, let you know you're doing a great job there letting your skirt roll up to your stomach, so easy to get rid of it ellie's sure you did it on purpose now so she can let her hand slip between your legs to feel how soaked you are.

your cunt makes this sound when her finger’s taunting you she just happens to love, and your underwear clings to your pussy lips, hips buckling up to meet her fingers already wanting more.

greedy.

"shh-" she tries to reassure you — "you're comfortable there baby? want you to feel good when i touch you yeah? you'll let me know anything cause you're my well-behaved girl, aren't you? my best client here.”

ellie’s making you shake her head, coaxing you to say out loud you are comfortable there, ass in her lap, spread legs as her fingers push against the fabric right against your entrance, noticing how the cotton soaks at the motion.

"look at you all desperate" she chuckles — "have you been thinking about this a lot like i do?"

her fingers pull on your underwear to the side and there it is: glistening cunt, swollen lips and neglected clit that's just begging to be touched, filled, discovered by her hands, her mouth, tongue. nothing she fucking wants more.

who she is to ever deny anything to you? to stop selling you weed? the joint falls to the ground now as she's using her entire hand to touch you, fingers rubbing against your minor and mayor labia, circling against your engorged clit as you arch your back and she has to use force to keep you still, taking what she has to give like a champ.

"you're fucking soaked-" there's a slap sound that fills the air, and even when there's people in the garden they don't seem to hear your whimpers as her hand comes in contact with your pussy and she's slapping it once again, just enough to apply some pressure in your clit, just enough to make your legs shake "so responsive to me, gonna let me stuff this cunt full tonight? fucking finally huh? you've been haunting me like no one else."

and you giggle, giggle cause you cannot fucking believe it: fucking your dealer? are you so for real right now? you're deep under a cloud of haze you're unable to control, disheveled state when your skirt is all the way to up and your underwear being pulled to the side at her mercy and you can only answer:

"yes- ngh yes please ellie."

"shit- your clit is all puffy baby, all needy for me."

you're squeezing her already so hard when she’s working on you. a wet schlick that fills the air and combined with your incoherent words of praise and moans will send her to the grave.

ellie’s knuckles-deep and fuuuck. you're so tight she needs to ask if you're doing right, cunt engulfing her' fingers until there’s no more and she's curling them right to the spot so you don't care about the drunk fucks in the garden anymore, about anyone who can hear whats going on in an empty rooftop.

ellie’s using a hand to keep your legs spread when your free will collapses like paper cards, pulling them apart only to add a third finger in your used hole and reduce you to pieces now, clenching tight as she rubs on that special spot inside and you're mumbling something about feeling so full, so good with her inside.

"this pussy must be made for me baby, fits me like a fucking glove," ellie’s doubling her efforts, her palm colliding against your clit, fingers thrusting against the right spot over and over — "gonna let me see your pretty face when you cum? i know you're close."

you are. fuck you so are. your movements are erratic, your legs shake, and ellie's kissing on your shoulder, leaving a path of wet kisses on the exposed skin on your neck, biting on your earlobe, anywhere she can get.

"i can't-" you cry out, moving yourself in quick, sharp movements, it’s overwhelming — "fuck i can't hold no more-"

"let go" she replies, holding you tightly against her body — "let go. i got you."

it's hot. messes up ellie's jeans with a damp mark on them, turning the fabric darker when you finally cum and you're gushing on her fingers, leaking through trembling legs.

"fuck yes. drench me like that," your dealer moans, stealing a kiss from your parted lips, keeping the last glimpses of air in your lungs for her benefit "use me, baby, don't stop."

ah. ellie's in trouble after all, cause it don't seem she’ll be selling weed to you now. not when she's mixing business with pleasure and she's making you bend against the top rail of the old lounge chair cause she's not able to wait any longer to lick you clean until you have no other choice but to cum again.

truth be told she once heard cupid's cruel, but she didn't believe it fully, not until now since ellie knows, first hand — the little fucker shoots to kill.