Work Text:
Abby was in a mood, and unfortunately, her target was Ellie.
She'd been ribbing the redhead — girlfriend? She wasn't sure they qualified yet — all day, digging her fingers into little wounds just to watch Ellie snarl and snap and bristle. She had to admit, this was a means to an end; Ellie had a degradation kink a mile wide, and Abby was feeling like being a little mean today.
So she corners Ellie. After a full day of circling one another, little jabs and spitting retorts, she finally caves and decides to put herself out of her own misery. It's over dinner that she breaks the ice, breaks the tension and decides enough was enough. Abby doesn't exactly care if it ends in fighting or fucking. Either way, she'd get a solid hit of endorphins. So she picks a fight.
It's about something innocuous. She doesn't even remember what. But it's enough to get Ellie going, enough to make her freckled and dirt-streaked cheeks flush. Enough to pinch her brow, enough for her teeth to peel back from her lips in the bare of a snarl. Abby gets her right where she wants her, all hot and bothered, and leans forward.
"You're pitiful." She says, in that smug, self-satisfied tone she knew drove Ellie wild. It works; Ellie's eyelashes flicker and she pauses for a second, her brain stalling. When it catches up, her gaze flicks to Abby's, then away for a second as everything slowly computes.
"Abby," she says, low, a warning in her tone. Green eyes meet blue, challenged and challenging. But Ellie was never one to back down from a proper fight.
"Can't even deny it, can you?" Abby snorts, setting aside her empty bowl and sitting back on her hands. They were sitting on the floor — not quite across from one another, but definitely in one another's orbit. "Pathetic."
"The fuck are you talking about?" Ellie snaps, her face flushing.
Abby can't help but grin, just a little. It pisses Ellie off further and she drinks in the sharp exhale of a breath meant to calm Ellie. They both knew it wouldn't do shit.
"Just been thinking today," the blonde stretches her legs out in front of her, rolling out her ankles. "About how long you stalked me for. And about how you're following me like a useless, tamed little dog."
Another sharp exhale. Ellie's spoon scrapes against the bottom of an empty bowl, green eyes darting down to it. Abby can see a muscle jump in her jaw.
"And you killed my boyfriend over it all?" She continues. "Freak. Stalking means you're obsessed, you know. You obsessed with me, Ellie?"
Bingo. It hits as intended, with the shock and accuracy of a rifle. Green eyes meet hers again, blazing with righteous fury, and Abby can only give her a smirk that must be maddening.
"Shut the fuck up," Ellie says through grit teeth, her chest heaving. Her grip on the spoon and bowl were iron, her knuckles white and fingertips flushed red from the pressure.
Abby could admit; Ellie was showing good restraint, tonight. Something in her preens a little for how their little sessions were going. But she liked a brat, she liked the sharp comebacks and the inevitable whining Ellie did when she was firmly wrapped around Abby's little finger. Abby just hoped she wouldn't fuck her completely tame.
"Can't even deny it." Abby whistles, shaking her head. "I knew it. Obsessed with me, that's why you—"
She's cut off by the clatter of plastic and metal on hardwood, by thin fingers wrapping around her neck, by the shock absorption of a person who had a surprising amount of mass, considering she was hardly bigger than a middle school boy.
Abby barks a laugh when her brain catches up to her reflexes. Unlike Ellie, she hadn't given up her routine training and daily exercise. The ease at which she flips them over and untangles thin fingers from around her neck (though eight fingers were certainly less of an advantage than ten) is nearly laughable.
Abby sits down heavily astride Ellie's hips, strong thighs locking her into place. One hand pins both wrists and traps them above her head, the other wrapping around her neck and squeezing just hard enough that her breath stutters and pulse picks up. Abby can feel it against her palm.
"Well, well, well," Abby isn't even out of breath. She watches Ellie's chest rise and fall rapidly, her pupils dilate as she realizes suddenly the intent of all the needling. "Someone needs to brush up on her strength training, doesn't she?"
"You — fucking bitch!" It's meant to be a shout, but the rasp of her airway slightly cut off and the exertion of all the struggling she was currently doing makes it little more than a strangled statement.
"Uh huh," Abby grins. She was enjoying herself. "Go on, tell me more. Pretend you don't like this. We both know you're a fucking liar."
If there was one thing Ellie Williams was, it was stubborn. She kicks a leg — uselessly, of course — and tries to yank her grip from Abby's hands. When that doesn't work, she surges forward, attempting to smash her forehead against Abby's nose.
But this wasn't anything new, and Abby was no stranger to Ellie's antics. She sits back, tipping her head back a little, then lifts her hand from Ellie's neck and gives her a firm smack on the cheek. Nothing she meant; it leaves a pretty red mark and makes the redhead gasp, makes her eyes widen.
"Knock it off." It's a command, they both know. WLF training wasn't forgotten so easily, and neither is the memory of the last time Abby had ordered her around. Ellie shudders, head dropping back onto the hardwood floor with a soft thud.
"Or what?" She growls, eyes on Abby. The anger was gone, now; there was only fierce anticipation. Maybe a little need — but she wouldn't give in to that just yet, Abby knew.
Abby raises an eyebrow. For a moment, the two simply stare at one another. Abby breaks it first, glancing down and shuffling back a few inches. Just enough to get her now freed hand between Ellie's legs, to grope her none too kindly. She flicks blue eyes back to Ellie's face, watches her lips fall open in the preparation for a moan before her lower lip snags between her teeth and she glares at Abby.
"Bet you're already soaked." Abby says, like this was casual dinner conversation. Deft fingers undo the button of her jeans, pull down the zipper.
"Fuck you," Ellie spits, because there was no point in arguing the obvious.
"Maybe," Abby glances back down. "If you're good."
Ellie takes the distraction. She surges forward, ripping her hands from Abby's grip and instead tackling her. They tumble across the floor a few feet, both grunting. Ellie gets a handful of Abby's shirt — but Abby gets a handful of Ellie's hair. She pulls harder than she needs to, revels in the slightly muffled yelp it earns her, and shoves Ellie face first to the hardwood floor.
"You know," she says, only a little breathless, undoing her belt. "This would be a whole lot more enjoyable for you if you listened, slut."
"Shut — Shut the fuck up!" Ellie gasps, choking on what could easily be taken for a moan when Abby yanks her arms behind her back and belts them there, returning her hand to her hair moments before she lifts her chest to try something again.
"No, don't even try," Abby scoffs, pushing Ellie to roll over and sitting astride her hips again. She didn't particularly care if Ellie's arms went numb beneath her. With the attitude she had, there was a lesson to be learned tonight.
For a moment, the two watch one another. Abby can't help but admire how the red and orange light of the dying sun makes Ellie's hair gleam like polished copper where it dapples over the floor and her face. It makes her eyes a shade paler, too, even as she squints up at Abby, lips pursed.
"Quit trying to escape, or I'll throw you in the basement and lock you there for the night." Abby says. She sits up and yanks Ellie's jeans off. For once, Ellie doesn't fight it.
Abby settles once again, this time across her thighs, and looks up to pin Ellie in place with only her gaze. She had been right; her brain was leaking out of her pussy, rendering her stupid enough to stay where she is. There's still anger in her eyes, frustration — but Abby knew it was directed inward, now. The flush on freckled cheeks is a dead giveaway.
"Ha," Abby scoffs, dragging two fingers between Ellie's legs. The fabric of her underwear sticks there, and Ellie gasps softly before she can bite her lip and quiet herself. "I knew it. Fucking whore. You get this wet for all the girls you stalk?"
"Shut up," Ellie's words come from between grit teeth.
"Oh, wait," Abby makes eye contact with her. "You only stalk me."
Before Ellie can reply, she pulls her underwear aside and plunges a finger knuckle deep in Ellie. A hoarse cry cuts through the quiet of the house. Abby curls it and rubs against the spot she'd come to know well, her gaze intent on the redhead.
"It's pathetic, you know. How obsessed you are with me. And don't even deny it — I see you stare at me, I hear you whisper my name at night. Bet you've got a hand down your pants when you do it, too, don't you?"
Ellie whimpers, her head dropping back. She squirms, unsteady, and Abby pulls her finger out and smacks a flat palm against the side of Ellie's hip. She jumps, sucking in a breath.
"Don't move." Abby says, rising from her place. She shoves Ellie's legs open, baring the smaller woman to herself, and grins when she gets to watch Ellie flush bright red in real time. "Or I'll leave you here, just like this."
Ellie's thighs shake just a little as Abby traces over her pussy with a single fingertip. She flicks her clit as she passes it back, earning a punched out noise, and rolls her eyes.
"You're so fucking easy." She mutters, collecting her slick with two fingers and lifting it into the dying light to inspect it. She spreads her fingers, watching slick connect her fingertips before it breaks and drips further down to her palm. She looks down at Ellie and decides to hit the proverbial nail she'd been avoiding on the head.
"Did Dina know you were such a little bitch, or did you convince her you were good enough to play top?"
Abby doesn't let her recover; Ellie's eyes widen, fire lighting them once more, but any action she might even attempt to make is killed when Abby buries two fingers in her once again and starts a brutal, unforgiving pace. She throws her head back, shouting for the world to hear, her chest heaving.
Abby feels her squeeze around her fingers, watches her get wetter than she'd ever seen, so she decides what the hell and pushes the limits they'd always danced around.
"I can imagine it now," Abby scoffs, her voice mocking. "You on top of her, rutting like a pathetic little dog."
"Oh, fuck," Ellie's voice breaks, a shudder ripping up her spine. Her flush starts to creep down her neck, her throat bobbing as she swallows.
"Can't imagine you could satisfy her," Abby snorts, adding another finger. Ellie struggles to take it for just a second, before she whimpers and Abby's fingers sink even deeper. "Hm. Considering you were made to take it, weren't you? Pathetic bitch."
"Abby," her voice is broken, shaking and thready. If she was lucky, maybe Abby would get to see her cry.
Abby grins, crooking her fingers, dragging a ragged gasp from her lips. "Slut. Already begging for me. C'mon, you can do better than that. Try again, maybe I'll let you come if you do it right."
Ellie makes a rough, frustrated noise. She grits her teeth, lifting her head to glare at Abby. But her eyes fall on the scene before her — Abby made a pretty mess of things when she wanted to — and instead she squeezes tight around Abby with a gush and a broken hiccup.
Abby rewards her with a sharp, stinging flick to the clit. "Watch." She commands, as Ellie starts to drop her head back again. "Come on, whore, this is what you've wanted. Don't deny it; why else would you chase me down? Go through my shit? Let me fuck you? You've wanted this since day one, don't even deny it."
Abby watches shame and arousal war in green eyes. Ellie bares her teeth at the blonde, but she can't do much but let sharp breaths hiss through her teeth in time with the thrust of Abby's hand.
"Whose slut are you?" Abby asks, cocking her head to the side. She buries her fingers deep and stays, letting Ellie tremble beneath her. When she gets no answer, she frowns. "Say it. You know the answer."
Ellie swallows audibly. She shifts, her breath hitching when it does nothing to relieve the pressure of three fingers as deep as they can get inside her. She shakes. "I don't," she starts, but Abby reaches forward and tugs her hair sharply.
"No," she snaps. "Say it."
Ellie whimpers, closing her eyes and tipping her head back into Abby's hand. Abby knots her fingers there, keeping a gentle and grounding pressure against her skull.
"You," she whispers. Hardly a breath. Hardly anything — that wouldn't do.
"Oh, come on," Abby jeers. "You can do better than that. Say it, Williams."
Ellie makes a shaky noise, squeezing her eyes shut tight for a moment before she opens them, green eyes locking with blue. "You," she says, clear and thin and truly, beautifully pathetic.
Abby wasn't a monster; even soldiers got rewards. "Good girl," she coos, starting to move her fingers again, slower this time. Ellie moans, sweeter than she ever had before, and Abby can't help but smile at the noise.
"You're such a dog," she sighs, pulling her hand from Ellie's hair and instead tapping them against her bitten red lower lip. "But I made a promise, so I suppose I'll let you come. Suck."
Ellie was gone; it usually took one pretty little compliment, one snippet of praise, and the redhead was putty in Abby's hands. She parts her lips, letting Abby slip two fingers against her tongue. She keeps eye contact as she sucks on them, her cheeks flushed and her eyes hazy with desire.
"So fucked out," Abby coos. "To think, you tried to avoid this. Doesn't it feel good to give in?"
Ellie moans around her fingers, giving a single nod. Abby chuckles, pulling her fingers out and sitting back. "Good girl," she murmurs again, just to hear that hitch of breath and sweet whimper. Her fingers find Ellie's clit, rubbing slow circles, and she settles in to just watch as Ellie came apart.
It's beautiful; but then again, Abby had always found Ellie beautiful, in a fucked up kind of way. Ellie's flush spreads, her squirming and breath gets more frantic. Her hips buck up slightly into each thrust, each breath punctuated with a soft ah sound. She was a cacophony and Abby hadn't ever been to a symphony, but she liked to imagine that this was what it sounded like.
The crescendo was always the best part, anyway.
"Come for me," she commands, in the voice that always set Ellie off in one way or another. This time, it goes exactly how Abby wants it.
Ellie comes with a desperate cry, her spine bending as much as her tethered arms will allow. Her head drops back, her chin lifted to the sky, and she makes a mess of Abby's fingers. The blonde works her through it, watching her as she shakes and twitches, coming down with a series of soft whines.
"Like a dog," she murmurs again, just to feel one last shudder and squeeze before she pulls her fingers out and wipes them on Ellie's discarded jeans.
"Fuck you," Ellie pants when she finds her voice again. Abby is struck once more by how pretty she looks in what was now twilight, lit by soft blues and purples and the remnants of streaks of blood in a settling sky. She smiles.
"Not tonight," she says, and reaches forward to undo the belt from Ellie's arms. Ellie sits quietly and lets her, properly subdued for one more night.