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stars-for-circe · 56 minutes

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about a girl ⭑┆ e.w

sending nudes to your brothers best friend, deliberately.

—an; tbh this was supposed to be a drabble but now it's looking more short-form oneshot kms. first long fic in a while though!

—summary; possibly bored, maybe high, unmistakably horny— what could be more fun than sending a nude to your brothers best friend? you know, the girl that couldn't for the life of her be discreet about her nerve-wracking crush on you that sends her into a fluster whenever you breathe the same air? yeah. that girl. —content; 18+, bbf!ellie x reader, sub!ellie, clit stim (e!receiving), breast fondling (r!receiving), biting, implied next time, ellie is the biggest loser in town, she goes between being nervous and needy tbh, possible weed usage implied, purple texts = reader, green texts = ellie, petnames used: baby, no usage of y/n! (lmk if i missed anything!)

★ WC; 3.2k+ ★ DON'T BUY TLOU ★ PALESTINE MASTERPOST ★ MASTERLIST ★ proofread by @trackinglessons + @stars-for-circe !!

It fucks with her.

You know it does.

"Has to be a mistake," convinced by a heart-pounding whelm, Ellie is fiercely sure that the photo of a pair of tits spilling over the lunate neck of the tank you're fitted in today, and pouring from the rucked up sports bra— was a missend. That the reality where you like her, want her, and feel comfortable enough to send a nude to her is some farcical fantasy.

A big fat mistake.

Bolts of saliva shred her throat by the breath, a weak attempt at regulating the thirst her organs shrill for, "Shit, Ellie— fuck do I do?" even naming herself aloud in a hiss like the blame lands upon her slouched shoulders. The only lucky thing is that your brother excused himself to the kitchen prior, sanctioning her the space to squeak her frets, panic, run red at the cheeks, and beg it all into a dream.

A dream that realistically, she does want. The flustered fail to fathom out.

Unlucky thing being, he will return— and the hot strain tugging below her waistband.. won't excuse itself. For the entire weekend; the whole sleepover.

She's weak-kneed and tenacious about exiting your brother's room for answers. Craven to seek you out, set her eyes face-to-face with every onlooking oak vein on your bedroom door, and stutter her way into some highly awkward, gulpy tête-à-tête on why you should double-check the name of the contact you plan on sextscaring with fully bare, Louvre-worthy breasts that her damn brain just can't ignore the screen glow of in her peripherals. Thinking maybe— just maybe, she should double-scan for its legitimacy in case her mind had played a dirty trick on her one more—

Fuck.

You're horndog-brained, Williams. You've got a scandalous crush on your best friend's sister, Ellie.

Face it.

She can't. "Fuck my life." not when the implanted flash of you tangs sweeter than the physical copy bright on her phone. This one, she can play with. This rendition of you— meshed with the matter of imagination, meant to send those nudes to her.

Meant to flank her foot featherly with yours during past movie nights. Meant to impress her with your player-versus-player prowess those rare witching-houred nights, cupping your mouth and going, "Suck my diiick!" in loud alto hollers. Meant to tackle and straddle her that one odd day you three actually mucked knees up outside for a game of family (plus friend) football. That hour— a juncture that changed her brain chemistry. Finches wallowed, the sun whisked, everyday naturalness continued as it always has. Disrupting the nature of no person. Yet there you were, tightening your calves on her hips while giving her the literal talkdown about being wary of her surroundings while running with the damned ball— if she doesn't want to end up in this pretty predicament a second time 'round and burst her heart to abundant bits.

Ellie had been disrupted from sleep that night. All night— hands in her pants.

Bad-dog yearning. Guilt accumulates under her guts for even taking notice of her crush for you. For rubbing her clit with your name. For purposefully sitting chairs away from you at the dining room table in composure-saving abstinence. For apologizing the very next day and culling you in for embrace, lading her empty nasal cavity with you. Only peeling away with an even bigger void that wasn't lined with your scent, or your orchids, or your drug.

Only dearth, and mock, and facts served unappetizingly. The fact that she can't see you every night.

That she couldn't see you that night.

It doesn't aid, though, that she playfully nudges your foot back with hers in sincerity. It doesn't help that she gives you these screwed expressions of dramatic pseudo-offense and starts blushing like an idiot when you shit on her shooting skills. And it certainly does not help that you like her too.

And can read minds through rows of drywall.

"come to my room?"

A scarily timed text. Her heart nearly plummets to the nauseous pit of her gut, and aches when she hesitantly scrolls the notification tab down with her thumb.

She panic-whispers, "Fuck fuck fuck," consumed by the endless possibilities on why you would've asked.

Ellie grinds her teeth over the idea, strung across the indecision of going, or staying. Text you back— call you, question you, maybe? With her brain buzzing like a beehive and no intelligible plan emerging from that hubbub, it leaves her with scraps for choices in spite of her dependency on some saving grace.

"outside ur door rn"

"sorry that sounds creepy"

"don't want him hearing lol"

A pang of nerves strikes at her sternum when your doorknob begins to turn, slowly paced, like this whole sneak-meet quandary has to be secretive; the immediate assumption being that you two would be judged for it. She slips inside your room, thoughtless, spotless, her mind slyly shimmying a cold shoulder towards the fact that she did see your nudes. That maybe you did mean to send them to her, considering you prompted her to come— oh-so spotless, oh-so thoughtless; subterfuge at play. Pretending your purposes didn't lie bare in that damn photo. In that damned text.

But aren't you just lucky that her focus is halfway split between your voice and a thousand faerie-sized ones to grasp any traces or be brave about things, huh?

"Hey." croaks whisperingly out of her, hands stuffed in the pockets of her navy running shorts. The pair fondly worn; lint-littered.

Quirking one brow, "Hey weirdo," you greet, just as quietly as she, just as nonchalant, but spare not a handy huff else for her anxiety to loosen up on. Nothing long off the mark from vanilla chit-chat, "My brother ditch you again?" casually heeling the door shut.

Not like she would— could— spare a husk of help either, her reasoning was just comparatively more vulnerable and humiliating to even broom a thought over. Softly, a prefacing sigh sets up her answer, "Yeah," piling her mouth with unneeded context, "Somethin' that's taken him like thirty minutes now— I don't know, he didn't say. We won a few games, then he just dipped. Probably making some kind of fucked up, five-course victory dinner, hmhm." chuckling dry. The nervous rambler type.

Ellie rambling her breath away is something she's given to, and you, seasoned to. Ears well-kept and ready to lend a listen.

"Mhm," a simple hum, you sung, and a spin of your heel turns you the other way, sweeping her long-drawn (and definitely not a symptom of her flared nerves) explanation aside.

Your bedroom swells with her stare, everything up for her interpretation. Were you bored? The surface of your bedding steers clear of any sort of scattered activity, not even coursework. Were you high? The remnant of a plastic baggie Ellie had gifted you from whenever ago lays shimmering under your handed-down, thrifted bedside lamp. Were you horny? Ad hoc question— she just assumes based on the— yeah.

Contain your brain, Ellie.

"Music?" you ask.

"Sure."

Reaching for the oaken cubby of CDs nestled together like dentist-model teeth, you pluck a specific one. As a silent homage to her rambling, "My room, my choice. Welcome to the party, Kurt." you mumble stupid somethings, and pop the lid off a one-album disc— Bleach, Nirvana— distinctly recalled to be one of Ellie's choice favorites that you claim to be a motive of your preference, pressing the radio drive inward to insert.

Nah, you're just being thoughtful— or setting the mood.

A shiver crawls under her skin, a sensation induced by the sweet beckoning whisper of her name, "C'mere, Ellie." then, your palms cull her clammy ones, and you guide her to your visibly slept-in, dim-lit bed, not a breath escaping your lips before you pivot fast and plop on the edge. Beckoning her aside with an outstretched arm, she joins you; one leg tucked under her butt, per the uncomfortable usual— and you both finally lay your awaited gazes on each other. Grassy rings of April, thinner and thinner, peering and peering, her heart coldly nervous, and banging too loudly to hear her own inhalations— until she breaks the silence contest a few seconds in, disturbed by the obvious. And the fact that her puffed up clit was threatening to rub against her panties with each anxious jostle her hips gave, was not fucking helpful at all.

Ignorance was bliss, and then it became an aching blister to bear. Ouch.

"What are we?" she presses for clarity. A contort pinches her brows, and she shies her eyes downward, inattentively absorbed by the black phone screen in her free hand, "Do you.. genuinely like me?" she really just can't look you in the eye— or doesn't want to accidently full-eye your chest. Either or, it's synonymous. "Cause if this is.. just.."

"Just?"

Reluctantly, the choices of words sail past her throat, but hardly her teeth, "Just.." folding under that implicit pressure. A trusty chuckle— while bated against the acoustic cries of Nirvana— leads her into dropping the cherry atop her answer. Retracing her pupils to your gaze unmoved and sighing audibly to unlade her shoulders, she fishes out the words. To confront you all in all. "Teasing me? Fucking with me? Flirting? I don't— I dunno' how to word this," another dry laugh to add insult to injury, shimmying like she wanted to spring out of her skin, "Did you mean to—"

"Hehe, d'you want me to tease you, Ellie?" a satiny whisper from you intrudes, eyeing her, wanton of the girl you see— to be in the keen cleft of your teeth.

It was glaringly obvious that her inbound words were related to your little photo porn sesh she won the sanction of seeing; ruddy as a rose in fertile spring. But dismissing that reality was a whole lot more..

Thrilling.

"Huh?" and her eyes wear this gloss as she hums so, cast by the lamp pale-lit beyond your shoulder. Knits the skin dividing her brows together, drawing all sorts of muddled lines in her forehead— cute confusions suit her well.

"Let me show you, then I'll ask again."

Fuck.

Plus, the reaction written across her features relaid desire and less so worries. She just couldn't get out of her own damn way. Or she found herself intimidated, you think. Those big, dumb eyes of a hazel-haired girl drowned in your audacity, dull-shining eyelids retreated back to make sure the words her ears pick up are truly fleeing your lips, or if her mind was playing the fool twice over.

Adorable, though, that she twiddles both thumbs like she has to twiddle over the texture of your answer; consider what's about to happen. If it'll turn volatile or fall anticlimactically. Will she burst into more abundant bits— or will she suck you up and reciprocate reckless abandon?

Either way, she trusts you.

Lessening into a fragile sough, "Right here," your fingers enclose her limp left wrist and handles it upright. Unbends the joint and hooks over the weathered webbing of her thumb, cupping her palm to your right, cotton-covered breast.

"Oh," she shudders, forming a loose oval with her strawberry lips.

"Touch me here."

From that oval blossomed a puppy-eyed regard, uncertain about whether she should withdraw her hand out of respect or phase into your move by inviting her other mitt to your opposing breast, hesitating her head faceward to glean if your eyes illustrate the choice for her. But you shadow a palm over her knuckles and squeeze— cram the fat of your tit in her calloused warmth, and she melts. Melts into a face worth a moan, melts into her reflexes.

"Something tells me I don't have to ask you again."

"Tchh— shut up."

Snappy. Ellie gets snappy when confronted with a truer-than-the-sky-being-blue fact or some smart-assed innuendo, notably comments that concern the juicy anatomy of her fat, fated and violently gay crush on you. Spur your tongue enough, and you'll force hers; she'll let the profane tendencies of hers unravel a name-call or two. Softly-spoken and ever so content-looking, dimples carving if you take her meaning just as lighthearted as she meant it. Ellie is the only girl in this wide and woeful world who could loathe your mouth— the things spilling out of it, and still look at it like she wants to be inside it. To shove profanities beyond it.

And since the moment has dawned; a cara cara sunset depthening what she can lift off her mind, "You knew what you were doing," she decides to be a bit cheeky about the topic at hand, "You are fucking with me." taking up the self-imposed offer to route her free hand over, filling two gropes.

God, and she does that head tilt thing. Nosing your space with a dope-lidded gaze that purrs: "Fuck me, instead?" weighing into the sliver of teeth she beams. Total reform of behavior.

"In what way?"

Her eyes roll, "Knew you were gonna fuckin' say th—"

"Come on. Tell me, baby, hmm?"

Two can play at that game.

You bring your nose in, inviting the notes lingering under her jaw to coat your senses; sudor, worn linens, sex— anticipated sex. You can smell the long for it on her body; natural pheromones that pooled when you sent that nude. Invisible vapors dating back to when you two first met.

Muscles beneath the wrap of her throat draw, taking in an amused swallow. And she opens up her neck— just for you, extending the area your lips can explore. Eyes swiping firsts, they peer at every nicety, and ruminate about every bare inch. Wonder how her freckled skin tastes— how her freckled skin feels. Does every sunspot hold a different sweetness? Saltiness? Will it taste as cinnamony as its likeness? No clue, no mind; you're thinking with your tongue and teeth, licking the panel of them exactly how you yen to lick the perch of her collarbone.

Her reply kick-starts in the tips of her digits, tamping your boobs in individual, synced rolls. Then it travels up in a hitch of breath, in a contemplative pinch of brow, "Cause you.. like me?" her words a rebound to topics past their prime, immediately eating her words back in a regretful head-shake. "God, I don't fucking know—"

Smothered along her tee's neckline you peeled back to expose the wispy skin in hiding, you whisper, "What do you think?" in an evasive ploy to get her to confront her own feelings, driving her tongue further. Yet, in contrast, your own spit-lined muscle slips from its hot grotto and wets the peak of her collarbone once, empowering your hunger for flesh to just— bite after.

"Fuck," she rough curses, and rows her shoulders into your mouth reactively. Hands minding your teeth and the sting given contra to what is held in them, they fall sharply to your waist and scratch at your sides, carving a haiku of lines with three digits. "Seriously? Gonna play this game?"

"What game?" speaking through a second bite, you iron curiosity into the mark.

"You're not answering my question!" Ellie giggles, high-pitched and croaky in the warmth reserved behind your ear. Words strangled in hysterics, you miss to recognize the beginnings of her sentences— the other raspy, less laughy half, "You're biting me, n' kissing me.." intrigues you regardless of the context, anyways. Not when her fingers trickle up your shirt. Accident, or no accident.

Lips stick together and paste above your previous tooth marks, "Mhm?" humming all thick. "I've always wanted to.."

"Oh?"

"Mhm.."

"Okay~" surprise drips from her tone— but, off the record, her undertone reeked of appetite. Excitement. That's all you needed to hear; all you ache to focus on. "I mean, me too? But does that mean you— ah.."

A bite thrice— and she's out of her mind. Maybe literally. Swanning idle fingertips up your ribcage, blooming them outwards, caving her palm in to feel it expand against the pressure, carefully testing the waters by your underboob. Commits a dreams act, now fiercely sure that your ministrations meant more than just bepainting her upper-torso in a splatter of roses and violet petunias.

That it means more than just streaming flat-palmed touches up her thighs. Means more than pressing for her heaven spot at the center of her thighs because she's clamping the sides of your ribs and soundlessly whining for it under your lobe, "He probably thinks I'm in the bathroom or something. Come on, won't last longer than a minute." discarding the loom of ticking time from her mind's clock. Means more than sinking her own teeth into your lobe when you finally shove her waistband open— just barely, and handle the beady, beating and bloated button in tapered circles, muttering "This answer your question?" delicately, to which, she chokes out, "Y-Yeah." and it has you drifting your head away to watch her unravel. Eggs you to faster flicks. The type that flex your hands and flexes her brows, itching that staved knot at the back of her walls, cinched around nothing. Wet around everything.

"Fuuckk," a legato groan fills her mouth. "Just how I like i-it— fuck baby.." and fills your skull, also satisfied by the feel of her folds smoothly hugging your top knuckles. By the increase of slick coating her slit from when you first dove your fist, to now. Rubbing and patting that heat down. Telling her pussy just how lucky it should feel.

Eliciting twitches and humps you beam a subtle eyetooth and coo to, "Gonna come?" sounding condescending, because you yourself lack the need of an answer; you already feel the anticipation, the wanting, the opinion that the sensations of having your hands down her pants, is better than she could have ever wrought herself. Pulsing at the pleasure points, pleasured at the sound points.

Apart from the sticky noises under her beltline— and Nirvana, Ellie is vocally eager to praise and vouch for how good you're making her cunt feel, "Uh-huh, uh-huhh.." cordial nods all around. Manifold factors heighten that ecstasy— but they're all just thoughts surrounding you. Where this will take both of you, how this won't linger off her mind the whole sleepover, questioning when you might fuck her next. And— sometimes, when she folds into the darkest, dirtiest backwoods of her delusions at the dead of night, she'll think about her unused strap and whether or not you'll take her when she wears it.

Ruminating on it now definitely helped; took a chokehold on her clit when her eyes dared to roll back and visualize the day when you bounce and grind and stretch your pussy wide on her—

"Fuck fuck fuck," she frantic-moans, hit by an abrupt wave of climax.

Except, she never knows when 'fuck her next' will happen. And she definitely won't seek you out, to find out. Not yet. No way.

"Good girl," so fucking beautiful when she cums: flushed and shiny as an apple, shutting lids to your rhythm. "Right on my hand, there you go," you encourage her, and tuck the slack hairs dangling from her hairline to watch the earthly freckles on her face congregate as it all tugs to her nose.

So grabby, too. Squeezing your tits together over the thin nylon of your bra, madly pushing, madly maledicting your bra for being in her way. Her thumbs brush your hardened nipples, headbutting her face into your chest while she rides her filthy slick all over your fingers.

Ellie presses a long, open-mouthed kiss to the slope of your chest, and warrants the rest of her delighted breath to fix there, "Hngh, oh fuck— oh fuck," thrusting into a half-kneel, inner-thigh muscles clenching in on your hand.

Maybe she'll wait for another text message.

"Such a fucking mess, Williams."

Who knows.

perm taglist; @whore4abby @aouiaa @ellieslittlewhore @baumbii @tlougrl @mina-281 @beabeebrie @fleshunger @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @nicolicht @cosmikoo @xinyaya @sawaagyapong @reinersbigolboobies @brunettedolls-blog @syrenada @fairyysoiree @p4ison1vy @nil-eena @hi2647 @disaster-bi-suki @rarestdoll @narieater @hrtmal @eudaemoniaaaa @ellie-07063 @luvfaeri @carleenaelaine @kissyslut @ellieswh0r3 @beemillss @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @slynxs @maleelee @littlegingerperson5 @seraphicsentences

fic taglist; @boobdrug @lawofblla @darkerstarsstuff @alexhhr

[lmk if you'd like to be added to my perm taglist!]

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stars-for-circe · 1 day

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🇵🇸💚 Journalists in North Gaza request water, get full meal, “This is just how we are. These are our traditions!”

🔸 Source: eye on palestine (main post), mahmoud._.shalha20 (footage) and translatingfalasteen (translation)

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stars-for-circe · 2 days

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MDNI — had an idea. just a quickie little blurb. ellie + reader who isn't close to climax simultaneously + tribbing! not talked about enough, though it is realistic, honestly. the sweet heart palpitations it would deliver when ellie's on the brink, huffing and puffing, glistening as a shiny lake, eyes blurring between wide-open and fairly-heavy, her cheeks hollowing out every single exhale you know is for you, you know is a sign of her nearing high— but you're not close. all you feel is the stick of sweat and heat adhering you to her and the bed. "fuuckk, babe. so good with ur' hips, hah— yessss m' gonna fucking come.." she growls every vowel, the force of them felt gratingly in the air. and she tosses her head; opens the trunk of her neck to the heavens abiding, and fists the sheets her two arms relied dearly on. "m' n-not close, ellie." you squeak, and she stops. earnestly. with a smooth recoil forth of her head, snapping back in place, she eyes your knitted expression and soothes it over with an appreciative one. understanding. unfurling her pink tongue between the shut of her lips and smacking. "it's okay," kills the volume with how silent she is. sets aside the pleasure she's built up by slowly parting her wet pussy from yours— clits almost refusing to let go, the only thing connecting you still being a tether of her slick stuck to your slit. bedsheets rustling and hissing as her legs unravel from the crest of your thighs and find new purchase at the hind, kneeling in front of you. "lemme' help you." insisted she softly, and all of a sudden, the shadow she cast across you halfed into a smaller one as her head and torso dipped downward, parking her face directly in the barely-throbbing gap between your legs. orals numerous kisses around your pussy lips, and presses a few praises into the actual plush of them, "so good t'me," perhaps— happy, that you lacked pleasure beforehand, so she could take it into her own hands. "she just needed my tongue instead, huh? likes my attention?"

[ellie photo from a collab on ellies.galaxy on insta!]

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stars-for-circe · 3 days

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The Improper Use Of a Screwdriver

Tags / cw: smut, and, well. That. Very small drabble

Mechanic!Abby finishing up her shift, cleaning the oil and grime off her hands as she counts the minutes until you come meet her at the store. And when you come over, smiling and hugging her, wearing her clothes, smelling like her - Abby decides going home can wait.

The way she drags you to to the corner, damn near throwing you on an empty workbench - secluded enough, she decides - before kissing you hard. Her hair all mussed up and sweat dripping down her body from a long day of work, the first few buttons of her jumpsuit already undone as her hands explore up and down your sides.

She has you so fucking needy. Already dripping, moaning and sighing breathlessly against her lips. She should have known two fingers weren’t going to be enough. When she slides them in, slick coated and sticky as her thumb circles your clit. How even then, you still buck your hips looking for more. Of course she left her strap at home. Well, it’s not like she’d wear it to work, unplanned. But it’s hard to concentrate when knuckles deep in her wife who was begging for more at this point. For something bigger, thicker, rounder. Something that could just……screw you good.

And imagine your surprise, when it catches against your entrance. When Abby starts to run it up and down, teasing your clit, gathering your slick for a few seconds. Your little gasps against the cold, ribbed rubber handle - originally for grip, but now for texture - as it slides into you. As it starts pumping in and out so gently as to not hurt you, but so deep you can feel it in your stomach.

The way Abby moans as she watches the handle disappear in you, only to come out milky and wet. How she angles it just right, so that it presses against that spot inside you. How you get closer and closer, clenching so hard she swears she can feel the resistance as she thrusts the screwdriver faster into you. And you swear you’ve never cum so hard and so fast, with her fucking too with the screwdriver as her thumb rubs your clit and as she sucks marks into your neck.

Of course she helps you clean up, holding you steady on your shaky legs as she walks you to the car while proudly ignoring the knowing stares and smirks from her coworkers, before driving you both home. Afterwards, she keeps the screwdriver, of course, cleaned and in her office. A souvenir of sorts. And something to use if you’re both low on supplies during work once again. Oh, Abby wouldn’t trade her blue-collar life for the world.

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stars-for-circe · 4 days

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do more dropout ellie x reader or else -eve :D

Or else what ☝🏻🤓

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stars-for-circe · 4 days

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can you write something about reader and ellie being in a new relationship! they’ve only had sex a few times and in this particular instance, ellie finds out reader has a praise kink. soft dom!ellie pls<3333

MEOWWWWWW this 😭 is 😭 the cutest 😭 idea 😭 ever 😭😭😭 softdom!ellie my favouritest ever. you will almost always find me writing softdom!ellie. um also this ended up being way longer than i intended! so... this was meant to be like, a blurb. a few paragraphs. it's over 900 words. yeah

cw: softdom!ellie, sub!reader, oral (r!receiving), finger sucking, overstim, looooots of sappy praise !!

　　　　　mdni , nsfw under the cut ౨ৎ

"shh shh shh."

soft coos echo in the room, ellie trailing tender kisses up your stomach. the love is so fresh that the two of you can't help but be a little shy still, though, you more than ellie. the girl was glad to get her hands on you the very first time you'd let her.

weeks later and she's just as enthusiastic, though reminding herself to steer things slower and gentler. you're still learning so much about each other, like what sets or ruins a mood, what's strange but stimulating, and especially for ellie – she's paying close attention to learning just how much you can take.

slicked fingers prod at your lips and without a second thought you part them. the fingers flatten on your tongue, and ellie's lips curl upwards when you accept it with a pleased hum.

"you can taste yourself, can't you?" she whispers, nipping at the skin of your jawline. the room's almost dead silent, aside from honeyed words and the lewd sounds of you sucking her fingers. "doesn't it taste good, babe? uh-huh… i know."

eager with her hands, ellie's had no issue with the physical aspect of sex. but this is the first time she's been so verbal in the moment, and she's already picking up on the difference it's making. what an effect it's having. and all it does is go straight to her head. a steep boost to that ego of hers, which to be fair, could use one.

ellie slides her fingers out of your lips and chuckles to herself, smearing spit over them, thinking about how pliable and docile you are three orgasms deep into her bed.

"just gotta have a taste," she murmurs, so close to your ear that you can feel her breath fan against you. it's so warm, as is the rest of the room, the scent of sex ruminating in the air. she dips down, resting back between your legs.

she's so focused until your hand paws at her head, taking grip of her hair, and you mumble the tiniest, "too sensitive, don't think it's a good idea, so–"

"oh, no baby, you can take it," ellie encourages, a less cocky and more reassuring smile left on her face now. "you're so good at taking what i give you, i think you can handle this. just one more for me, yeah?"

holy shit. the reassurance has such an effect– you feel it hard as you attempt to let go and let ellie continue. she pays no mind at first, hands languidly pushing apart your thighs, handfuls squishing at your skin. and yet your mind is still lost over her words. she's been borderline worshipping you all night and yet you're beginning to realise that what is setting tonight apart from all the others is her being so verbose. the praising of your body and your submission – the voice in which she says it and you can tell she means it.

first, she tucks that one temperamental strand of hair back behind her ear, and then she licks a tentative stripe down your soaked pussy.

before your shaking hand takes leisure in ellie's hair – which she knows would end in fruitless tugging – she catches your hand in hers. "that's it, pretty girl. mmh, i know it's so intense, but you're gonna lay here and take it all, ain't that right?"

you nod so fervently, squeezing ellie's hand. she's definitely been beginning to notice this sudden affinity for her praises. it's amusing, yet at the same time, so rousing.

a soft kiss against your clit has you bucking your hips closer, yet your hips want to wriggle away. you can't tell what you even want. but that's okay, isn't it? ellie's already decided for you.

thumbing at your clit now, ellie gives you a wide grin, watching you struggle and writhe. "oh, is that too much?" she watches you shake your head, admiring the look of sweet determination on your face. "no? good girl."

she all but dives into your cunt, lapping and sucking your cum like she's starving. she won't stop until you've covered her face in it. she's making careful, very intentional use of words now– rasping them against your hot skin so that you truly, physically feel her praise. feeling your hand squeeze hers so tight eggs her on, her eyes boring into your own. ellie watches you try at anything to ease the overstimulation, your free hand grasping and squeezing your tit. she listens to your mewls and moans over the sounds of her slurping your pussy.

"that's it, baby," ellie coos, "i know, i know. you're being so fuckin' good for me."

"ellie," you sigh, she can see it clearly, how fast your breathing picks up and how your legs threaten closure around her head. "ellie, oh, oh my god."

"you taste too sweet, baby," ellie muses, watching it all go right to your head. the way your eyelids droop, you're close.

this has been her greatest bedroom discovery yet. with you teetering on the edge of orgasm, she makes her next words count, her voice reverberating against you. "be a good girl now, cum for me."

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stars-for-circe · 4 days

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Hot To Go

Song inspo!! - HOTTOGO by Chappell Roan

Tags / cw: headcanons, cheerleader!reader x dropout!ellie, fluff, Highschool au, Ellie is older by 1 year, reader is in senior year, 90s era

Dropout!Ellie who always does her best to show up and be supportive of your cheerleading

She always makes sure to pick you up every Friday night after practice, long after the sun has set and dew had started to form on the cold grass field.

She makes sure to wait by her pickup truck in the parking lot, leaning against the drivers side door and listening to music on her walkman until you come over to meet her.

She always greets you with a kiss on the cheek and one of her jackets to keep you warm in your thin uniform - the smell of her wrapped around you makes you feel so cozy.

Dropout!Ellie who lets you hangout with her in the back of her truck after practice, eating the worst junk food known to man as you gossip about people from your school

You’re sitting in the back of her truck, cuddling her under a shared blanket as you share a greasy cheese pizza - your legs intertwined as you try to feed her a slice with her eyes closed, making you both giggle as she fails miserably.

While she dropped out a couple years ago, she was still in the grade above you, so you have some shared memories about school. There are certain people she knows about, but most of them that you gossip about are complete strangers.

“No fucking way, he still goes there? Dude’s like a super duper senior at this point!”

Dropout!Ellie who won’t let you go home without a proper goodbye, leading to giggly make out sessions in her truck as you both try to hide from the automatic nightlights in your driveway.

Dropout!Ellie who sneaks into your school to watch your routines during matches, and somehow never gets caught.

At this point, you’re 99% sure she’s bribing the office ladies not to rat her out because they still have a soft spot for her.

Ellie never fucking tells you when she’s gonna show up, so every single time it takes you by surprise when you see her hiding behind the bleachers and cheering you on as you balance at the top of the pyramid.

And every single time, you almost fall from how distracted you get.

Dropout!Ellie who tries to involve herself with your schoolwork and be helpful, but is the exact opposite of what she attempts to do.

You’re studying for finals at the park while Ellie swings upside down on some random tree branch, blasting rock so loud that you can hear it all the way on the bench.

All of a sudden you hear her run over to you, leaves crunching under her feet, and two heavy hands landing on your shoulders

“So whatcha doinggg??”

She immediately regrets asking, because now you’ve trapped her next to you and planted a massive textbook in front of her to help you study.

“Babe- I dropped out in grade ten there’s no way I can help with any of this shit-”

Secretly, she gets a little sad sometimes because she can’t connect with you about school or share classes with you since she dropped out.

Dropout!Ellie who tried doing your makeup once, and you never let her go near it again because of how bad it was.

“No- Ellie it’s meant to be sparkly on the inner corner-”

“Stop with the fucking medical terms and just let me-”

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO-”

You were 27 minutes late to practice that day because of how much Ellie insisted she do your makeup even though it wasn’t necessary.

You spent those 27 minutes desperately trying to wipe off the bright blue glitter she’d spread all the way up to your eyebrows.

Sometimes you still find pieces of glitter in your carpet from the whole fiasco.

You help her feel better, though, by letting her pick out which bows to put in your hair and which colours you can use for eyeshadow during games.

Dropout!Ellie who makes sure she’s always there with you during games, even when she can’t make it herself.

While you were busy getting dressed into your uniform, she was fiddling around with you pom-poms, eyeing all the pretty colours and sparkles.

She wanted to stay as long as she could until you had to leave for the game, because this time she couldn’t go with you.

But a sharpie on your desk caught her eye, and she suddenly had a small idea on what she could do.

And hours later, after the game, when you went to grab your stuff to leave, you noticed a tiny little black smudge on the handle of your pom-poms. And upon taking a closer look, a small smile made its way to your face after you saw your girlfriend’s faded initials hidden behind all the ribbons and plastic.

Dropout!Ellie who cannot wait for summer, when she can finally have you all to herself without school or practice or homework getting in the way.

Half of the summer you aren’t even sleeping at home. Instead, Ellie sneaks you out of the house and drives three hours into the middle of nowhere to look at the stars.

She puts up some blankets and pillows in the back of her truck, brings out a radio softly playing nirvana, and a Tupperware box of cookies she made to share as you lay in the back of her truck to stargaze.

She points out the bigger ones, and the ones making constellations to you as you wrap your arms around her and listen to her nerdy mumbling, slowly lulling you to sleep.

“See? That one there’s called Ursa Major. I uh, read it somewhere a while back in one of those astronomy books you got me.”

“…mhm…”

She giggles at your quiet chirps to her explanations as your slowly fall asleep, before pulling a blanket over you and lets you drift off under the stars.

And when you wake up - still outside in the back of her truck - resting on her now sleeping chest, you glance at Ellie and her resting expression. You watch how it becomes blanketed by the early morning sunrise, and you listen to how the radio is playing some indie country artist you couldn’t name.

And after a while, you decide that, despite the fact she’s a dropout and your a straight A cheerleader, and despair the fact that it is the most random pairing ever, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Taglist: @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5 @flowersforvi

#tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #Ellie Williams x you #Ellie Williams x reader #Ellie Williams #Ellie Williams tlou #Ellie Williams the last of us #Ellie Williams tlou2 #Ellie Williams the last of us 2

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stars-for-circe · 4 days

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No clue what happened to the last post, whoops

Anyways, butch cowgirl abby

#yes ma’am coded #screaming crying clawing at the walls #Abby Anderson

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stars-for-circe · 5 days

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*points at her pussy* ummmm are you gonna finish that? *tummy grumbles loudly*

#tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #Ellie Williams tlou #Ellie Williams the last of us #Ellie Williams tlou2 #Ellie Williams the last of us 2 #lesbian #sapphic #wlw

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stars-for-circe · 5 days

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Mysterious fic title poll oooouuuuuuu

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #Ellie Williams the last of us #Ellie Williams tlou #Ellie Williams tlou2 #ellie williams the last of us 2

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stars-for-circe · 5 days

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her gay ass was so fucking happy 😭😭

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stars-for-circe · 6 days

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The West has deemed the lives in Iraq and Syria as small print

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stars-for-circe · 7 days

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The Improper Use Of a Screwdriver

Tags / cw: smut, and, well. That. Very small drabble

#tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby Anderson smut #Abby Anderson tlou2 #Abby Anderson tlou #Abby Anderson the last of us

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stars-for-circe · 7 days

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Yk that thing where sometimes during a core workout you can actually cum because of the muscle stimulation??

Im imagining that but with gymrat!Abby who was probably so concentrated on her reps that she didn’t even notice it until it happened, just these little sparks of pleasure and sensitivity in her abdomen that made her shudder and gasp and try not to moan out loud. And rather than picking up where she left off (when she’s certainly still too sensitive to continue), she instead comes home to make you fuck a proper one out of her. There wouldn’t even be enough time to take off your clothes before she throws you on the couch and starts fucking herself against you.

But because of what happened at the gym she’d be so fucking sensitive and shaky, every touch making her let out broken up moans as she’d buck her hips into yours, making a sticky mess between her legs. And even after she’d already cum, you’d still feel her grinding her hips hard against yours while shivering from the overstimulation, until her kisses and sucks turn sloppy, until her pants and moans turn into whines and pleads, until that little damp patch turns into her shorts being entirely drenched. She’d probably try to play it off later and say it was from how wet she was, but you’d know the truth - that Abby was so fucking sensitive that she came in her pants. All from a little workout.

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stars-for-circe · 7 days

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Ellie’s Camera Roll

Support Palestine

Tags / cw: fluff, some suggestive themes, quite straightforward so let’s see what’s inside!

Taglist: @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @ratdungeon @peanutbutterandjayjay @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands

A screenshot of a savage starlight poster on EBay, going for the $49 that Ellie can’t cough up.

A selfie of Ellie and Joel at an NFL game for the Dallas Cowboys. Joel’s frowning because they lost, Ellie’s smiling because she gets to go home.

A photo of the stars from when she was visiting Jackson.

A snapchat of Ellie, Joel, Tommy, and you playing monopoly as a massive argument over property starts out. The screen then effectively goes black as the phone is dropped and a loud crash is heard. Then, a flipped table is seen once it it picked up again.

A video of Ellie skulling down a beer with Jesse and Dina behind her, before throwing it to the side and dry heaving because it was warm.

A video of Ellie, Jesse, and Dina running the fuck away from security while laughing - the video showing their shoes and the road only - because they chose to record that in a gated park at midnight.

A video you secretly took of her while she was driving late at night, the roads around you just woods and darkness. In the background you can hear Joel’s playlist faintly as Ellie keeps rambling on about the full moon that night, and which stars and constellations to look out for. And in her window side reflection you see yourself smiling dumbly at Ellie, because it’s when she talks about the things she cares about that you remember why you fell in love with this girl.

Grainy photo of her Call of Duty ranking on her pc (she forgot how to screenshot).

Screenshot of her Fortnite ranking.

Screenshot of her Rocket League ranking.

A photo of a pissed off looking Jesse in the backseat of Ellie’s car, with soda all over him. The Live Photo shows the exact moment it spilled after Ellie hit a speed bump too fast.

A saved Snapchat of Jesse trying to wipe it off with a sweater Ellie left in the back, to the sounds of Ellie’s threats after he did that, and the shaking of the camera as you try not to laugh.

A photo of “No Pun Intended” volume three.

A screenshot of your drunk texts, sappy ‘I love you’s with typos and all.

A screen recording of your recent FaceTime with Ellie. You’re at work and she’s panicking in the bathroom with all of this drugstore makeup around her. You’re trying not to laugh as she’s figuring out how to use a beauty blender on her neck while cussing you out for leaving so many hickeys the night before. She then looks at the phone and starts cussing you out for laughing.

A live photo of a shooting star.

Thirty seven 0.5x selfies of yourself in her deleted folder, and 19 blurry photos of her running towards you, trying to grab her phone - you stole it while she was in the shower.

A screen recording of a Tiktok because the saves were off, showing a tutorial on making a flower bouquet with pipe-cleaners.

A photo of Ellie's split lip, after she tried to open a beer bottle with her teeth.

A screenshot of the groceries list from her notes app.

A video sent to her from Joel, from a small gathering back in Jackson during Summer. Everyone's all by the house, talking and laughing loudly. Someone's on the barbecue and someone's bringing food out from the house, much to everyone's cheering. Some old 70's playlist is playing faintly from inside, and there's a few people dancing to it. But then the camera pans down to the left, where you and Ellie are sitting near some steps, her head on your shoulder as you laugh at something she said. Then the video gets shaky from Joel trying hit the 'stop record' button as Tommy comes up to him and sees you both. And faintly in the background, you might hear him say something about Ellie marrying you someday, but only if you listen close enough.

A bathroom mirror picture of her and Jesse wearing suits and black glasses to go and see the minions movie.

A selfie of her and JJ in her lap, who’s grabbing the camera and smiling while she's not paying attention to what he's doing.

A screenshot of a very short haircut.

A screenshot of your very emotional texts telling her not to get that haircut.

A video of her dead asleep on your lap, with you brushing her hair out of her face as she scrunches her face in her sleep, before relaxing at your hand cups the side of her face softly.

A photo of her face after JJ tried to put 'makeup' on her.

A video of you all singing happy birthday to Joel, who's wearing a pink glittery tiara that says '60' in cursive.

A video of Ellie smushing a small chunk of cake on his face.

A video of Joel smushing a full piece of cake in her face.

A video of you both laughing in the bathroom while trying to get the cake off Ellie's face and shirt. You're wiping her face with a dishtowel while she's sitting on the counter, and when you lean in and reach behind her to wet the cloth in the sink, she just pulls you closer into a kiss. It turns into a messy makeout session, the cake still everywhere on her face.

A screenshot of your texts with Joel later that night-

'Happy birthday! cake tasted great'

'But you didn't take a piece the entire party?'

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stars-for-circe · 7 days

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Ok I’m opening requests for POTENTIAL IDEAS for a little bit but pls don’t request and hope I respond cuz there’s a big chance I won’t - just wanna see if this is writers block or a motivation thing so </3

REQUESTS/IDEA BOX OPEN

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stars-for-circe · 8 days

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u should write something about giving ellie head while she’s smoking a joint 🙏 her brain would be so fuzzy when filled with pleasure + weed and i think it’s hot

actually been thinking about writing a new high!ellie scenario like this for a while. ignore text change to small i can't stand it otherwise for blurbs. big text vers up for request. pure porn no plot, sub!ellie, overstimulating, mama petname. sextape recording implied. NSFW ellie reference. ♡♱

masterlist . read this . palestine masterpost

pleasure that you press— sultry lips and tactful tongue, makes the pretty girl splayed heavens-wide at the head of your bed keen on your mouth alone. it's all you are; all that she feels. strung out on the joint settled between two fingers— wrapping fumes around her face, and fucked out on every delicous flick of her clit, the cavity of her skull clasps a familiar mist. funny feeling, provocative of laughter, hot and hotter when it escapes through the breaths she didn't even realize she was holding. the low, bitter moans and soft, brow-jerking groans you pressed into her. pulled into her— reaching up to toy the lean fat of her tits, perfect to your palm.

no light is lit, except for the glow of a slim laptop screen— open to a video recorder that encaptures your head in her groin, to the slight view of her face clipped at the ear within a small tab. sometimes— just for the camera, ellie will grin lobe to lobe and jiggle her pelvis side to side, smearing her pussy all over your jaw. dirty fuckin' girl.

"fuuckk—" she draws out in grit, "that's the spot babe, that's the spot. oh, uhh," and voice-cracking into scant whimpers, weaker than a whisper. a quiet interlude eclipses her noises, and you assume she's taken another drag of the joint into her lips, a new spread of pressure placed upon the back of your head— a handy guide.

"mhm?" cooing into her folds— which you're practically nose-deep in; tongueing the length you could reach inside her slit, poking her engorged, cherried clit with the form of your nose, and dipping your chin at the top of her perineum, where all slick trickles— you talk her mushy mind through it. slurring in her pussy, due to her easing you in a tad more. "feels s' g--d, doesn' it?"

though you've a physical reason to fumble your wording, ellie is just plain high. high as heaven. high as virtue.

then, she complains, "ahh, can't you be a little meaner, babe?" growing a hesitant smile— unsure if asking was the best bite to chew. the mix of a scoff and another tempered moan falls from her lazily hung lips when you keep your pace, sitting up at the torso and inching herself closer. "u're so boring, c'mon, gotta give the camera something good, right?" and, if you were fain to admit: had she not brought her thighs tighter around your headspace, craned her crotch up in the air, up in your mouth, and hadn't screwed the rightest, sexiest expressions just as you yenned for a sweet glimpse— you would've resisted, continued the slow torture for her smudge for brain. if her position right now didn't appear so vulnerable and needy against her hesitation, you would've drank her in portions. had she not tempted your sight with a blow of smoke rings, you would've been nice.

something in you wanted to ruin her ability to even do that in the first place; to sabotage her breath, with yours.

seconds later, you turn into an overstimulant. every tug, every slap, every spit you give to the pleasure core in front of you, is overstimulating. "fuck babe— fuck, fuckfuckfuck," ellie writhes her hips, having to follow her cunt with your mouth as you ram your face in there, auburn brush scratching your upper lip, and the sloppy, slurpy sounds of your mouth working through her pussy lips obnoxious against every ear present. merciless, breathless; you amounted to every bit of mean she thoughtlessly wanted, and more, catching the exact moment her face pinches in for climax, and gushes that sweetness straight on your tongue. spurts of cum so addicting, you're a little mean about milking more of it— dragging the hand that occupied her chest and hooking a thumb down, power-jolting that poor bud of hers. "stop! st— fuck mama, fuck! 'll make a mess on your— unh!" cried she, arching her spine to buck you off, yet only destining herself in line with her own inner-desire, subconsciously fucking her pussy right into your pornographic tonguework.

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