ೃ⁀➷ Spoil You, Plug!eren

Feels nice to be chubby today (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

(you and john price, your bear of a man, spend a winter day together. Chubby!reader)

The snow piled high against the cabin windows, muting the world outside into soft, endless white. It was the kind of winter storm that promised days of quiet seclusion- a chance to disappear from the world and pretend it was just the two of you.

Wrapped in a thick quilt, you lay curled against John’s furry chest, your body pressed so close to his that you could feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing. He was impossibly warm, his body heat wrapping around you like a living furnace, and his scent- smoke, pine, and something uniquely him- made you feel so safe and content.

His large hand rested on your hip, fingers splayed wide as if to remind himself of just how much of you there was to hold. He traced idle circles through the soft fabric of your sleepwear, but the barrier did little to dull the sensation of his rough fingertips against you.

“You’re so soft.” He murmured, voice low and honeyed with sleep. He shifted slightly, pressing his nose into your hair to breathe you in. His beard scraped lightly against your skin, and you shivered despite the warmth.

“Too soft, some would say.” You mumbled, though your voice was half-hearted.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes catching the firelight as they roamed over your features- lazy and reverent, like he had all the time in the world to admire you, admire every inch of soft, supple flesh.

“There’s no such thing,” he said firmly, his voice like gravel but softened by the affection in his tone. “Not for me.”

His hand moved again, trailing from your hip to your waist, then higher, brushing over the curve of your belly. He lingered there, his palm flattening against the plushness as his thumb stroked gently.

“Love this,” he murmured, grumbling, almost to himself. “Every inch of you- soft, warm. Like you were made just for me.”

Your breath caught, and you squirmed slightly under his touch, but his grip tightened- not enough to hold you still, just enough to let you know he wasn’t letting go.

“John-”

“Let me look at you,” he interrupted gently, pulling back more so he could take you in. The blanket shifted as he guided you onto your back, his body following so that he loomed over you, one arm propping himself up while the other continued its slow exploration of your curves.

His gaze dragged over you, lingering at the soft swell of your stomach and the plushness of your thighs. He made no attempt to hide his admiration- his eyes darkened, his lips parting slightly like he couldn’t quite find the words to describe how much he loved what he saw.

“You’re perfect,” he said finally, thick with conviction. He leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the curve of your collarbone before nuzzling into your neck, the soft skin of your chin. “So damn perfect, love.”

Your heart fluttered, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. It wasn’t just lust in his eyes- though there was plenty of that, too. It was adoration, raw and unfiltered, as if he couldn’t believe you were real and with him.

He trailed kisses down your shoulder, his beard scratching lightly against your skin, but his hand never stopped moving- palming your waist, gripping your hip, sliding down to cup the curve of your thigh. Every touch felt reverent, like he was memorizing you all over again.

“Always thought I’d end up alone,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as his lips brushed your ear. “Never thought I’d be this lucky, having such a sweet, soft lady waiting for me at home.”

“John-”

“Shh,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your lips to quiet you. “Let me show you.”

And he did. He pressed gentle kisses to your cheeks, your chin, your jaw. He worshiped you with his hands, tracing every soft curve and plush line like he was afraid you might slip away if he stopped.

Eventually, he settled back against the pillows, pulling you with him so you could curl into his side once more. He tucked you close, burying his face in your hair, and the rumble in his chest was unmistakable this time- a low, contented sound that almost made you laugh.

“I knew it,” you teased, your voice muffled against his chest. “You can purr.”

His chest vibrated again, but this time with laughter. “Only for you.” He admitted, tightening his arms around you.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, but inside, the world was warm and quiet. Wrapped in John’s arms, with his steady heartbeat in your ear and his hands never straying far from your soft, warm body, you couldn’t imagine anywhere else you’d rather be.

This is a want not a need

satoru putting a vibrator wand on your clit and no matter how much you beg and plead, he’ll keep it there and laugh at you while he does it.

what really turned him on, though, was putting a cloth inside or around your mouth and watching your facial reaction as you get overstimulated.

your chest is rising and falling every time he turns the speed on the wand faster. it hurts so bad, but you keep cumming.

“you want me to believe you want to stop when you’re squirting?” taking the wand, moving it away, and swiping the squirt that comes off.

he got off to you, begging with your eyes and your whimpers.

your clit and hole were sore by the time he got done with you, and he’s never actually done with you.

he even got a dildo machine and would put you in front of it, restrain you, and put the wand on your clit.

the double pleasure you received from that died out quickly when you got overstimulated, with tears rushing down your face and muffled cries from beneath the cloth.

satoru would just stare at you and laugh while his hard-on twitched in his pants; he fucking loved it.

“there you go, you can keep going.” he’ll coo from the corner as his eyes trailed over every bit of your body as he watched you get fucked out of your mind.

this would go on for hours and hours—just hours of you getting fucked by this machine and overstimulated by the wand.

after he got tired of watching, satoru would fuck you himself, and feeling his dick pulse inside, shortly after cum inside you, it felt good.

“you love this shit don’t you, hm?” his hands on your breasts, squeezing them as he pushes into you once more, his dick passing your sweet spot.

your body became extra sensitive to the toys, so every time he touched you, your pussy would get wet and your nipples would get hard.

even when he would fuck you, you would cum in under five minutes, which made satoru want to abuse your pussy even more.

slapping it, putting a vibrating dildo inside of you—anything you can think of—he did it, and it had you jerking with pleasure.

one time, satoru put you on a chair, put the vibrator under you, and had you stay there for hours.

by the time he came back, the chair and floor were soaked in your fluids, your eyes rolled back, and your body was jumping from each tiny orgasm that followed.

“don’t tell me you don’t like this shit when you cum over yourself.” his words are soft as he looks down at you.

He liked seeing you get overstimulated; he liked putting his fingers inside of you and feeling your wetness coat his fingers; he liked hearing your pleads and whimpers.

no matter what, he was going to torture your clit, if your pussy wasn’t aching or if you weren’t begging him to stop by the end of the night, he'd start over, and it'd be even more intense.

if one toy dies, he’ll go to the other, and the cycle will repeat. when he was done teasing you, nothing would come out of your mouth.

like they disappeared; you couldn’t even think.

that’s why, after a certain time of being fucked silly, you’ll just accept the pleasure that came and sink into the overstimulation.

the only way you could communicate with him was through your moans and whimpers, like the slut you are.

daddy dom!Katsuki who gives you tummy rubs when your anxiety is through the roof. heats up his hands just a bit and holds you in his lap as he rubs circles into your skin, whipsering in your ear how much he believes in you and how he'll never, ever, let anything bad happen to his baby.

That’s my Man y’all forever and always ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

touchstarved!sero who is naturally really flirtatious and friendly so he craves physical touch like a fucking drug

touchstarved!sero who finds every excuse to touch you—pulling out your chair at dinner functions, guiding you through crowds with one hand at the small of your back; fuck, he’ll even pull your palm into his lap and pretend to examine your lifeline just to get his hands on you

touchstarved!sero who does not fuck around as soon as he knows you’re interested

touchstarved!sero who's pressing you up against the door of the storage closet, cupping your pussy through your underwear and smirking against your lips when he feels how wet you are, "damn baby, is someone a little worked up?"

touchstarved!sero who 100 percent uses his quirk to restrain you even as you're begging to touch him, "sorry honey, gotta get my fill of you first" while prying your legs wide open and diving in between your legs

touchstarved!sero who wants you as messy as he can get you, teasing out orgasm after orgasm from his tongue alone. will not stop until you’ve squirted in his mouth, “sweet as fuckin’ candy, pretty girl, always knew you’d have the best fucking pussy”

a/n: i've never written for him before but this had me feeling a type of way. other touchstarved!mha boys here

AAAAHHHHH This is fantastic like it’s so beautiful chefs kiss ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

imagine the task force 141 falsely accusing you of being a traitor to the team. knowing your biggest fear, they use it against you. water. water, where your feet can't touch the ground. water you can't see through. at first it started with waterboarding. then slowly but surely they threatened to drop you into the pool. into the dark, deep pool. even john, who was like a father to you before, didn't help you. no. not at all. actually, he was the one who stepped into the water fully clothed, dragging your crying and squirming form with him into the bloodcurling liquid. your tears blended in with it while you we're screaming, practically begging that you were the wrong one. that you'd never do something like that. but they just stood at the edge of the pool, watching their captain almost drowning your terrified self. how would they react, when they get the information that you really weren't the one...?

Some rather unlucky investments have landed you in a tad of debt. However, you have know of a way to get out of it that requires very little work on your part.

The "Pussy Portal" company are always hiring after all.

All you have to do is have a portal directly connected to your pussy that any paying customer can use at any time. What could go wrong?

Just realized u didn't actually say it had to be monsterfucking specifically but I made it that anyway lmao.

At least you thought it was going to be very little work on your part.

But now you're not so sure as you sit on the train ride home trying to act like there isn't a monster cock reaching deep in your cunt.

You curse yourself for not reading the terms and conditions of the contract properly. You thought they were just being hyperbolic when they said "Prime Pussy Anywhere, Anytime!" Surely they would have down times right?

No. There are no down times unless you call in a sick day of which you only have few. You shoulda known that pay was too good to be true.

At least whoever's using your portal seems to only be cockwarming themselves for the time being, although that could change at any moment. Every jerk of the train makes you tense up as you try and act as nonchalant as possible. The cock sits so snug and warm inside you, it twitches every time you tense around it.

On the customer app your portal is advertised as specifically "Human pussy" so you like imagining the kinds of monsters who would pick that out specifically. You haven't figured out what monster this one might be, it's rather thick and hot with a very generous amount of precum.

When you get to your stop the train jerks more than you expected and you have to subtly cover your mouth and grab the railing to avoid making a sound. Your customer definitely felt you clench down in panic as their cock jumps in excitement.

They start grinding down slowly on the portal, their cock thrusting shallowly. You speed walk straight for the train station bathrooms and lock yourself inside a stall. Close call but you made it and just in time for their shallow thrusts to turn into full pumps into your slick pussy.

You lean your back on the wall of the stall as your cunt is now being thoroughly pounded by this stranger. You have to crouch to your knees as your orgasm builds up, rubbing your clit with one hand while the other covers your mouth.

Just as you're about to tip over the edge you feel something bigger at the base of the shaft bump against your pussy with each hard thrust. You gasp in realization but it's too late as the monster thrusts their knot past your entrance and you cum hard with a silent scream, spasming and shaking against the bathroom stall.

Their cum fills you to the brim, kept inside by their inflamed knot. They don't stop cumming for several minutes but when they do it takes you several more to compose yourself enough to step out of the bathroom on wobbly legs.

You make the slow and embarrassing walk home while the monster's knot sits snuggly inside your pussy, keeping all that warm cum inside you.

The knot inside you doesn't deflate fully until you're already home and making dinner. You have to grip the counter, shivering slightly as your customer pulls out and goes on with their day having been properly satisfied. The thought makes you feel a strange sense of pride. Just then your phone beeps with a notification from the Portal companies app.

The customer left a tip!

How nice! They also left a review on your page,

"10/10. Best stress relief. Would fuck again."

Dream girl

Pretend I'm a stranger

n/a: this is a mini-series of Tiktok Couple Trends w/Ellie that I looooove and I also wanted to write fluff moments!! Also we can slowly see how their relationship develops slowly, this will be short chapter, not longs btw.

INDEX

“Okay, babe, one moment,” Ellie said, setting up the phone. “So, we are at Target and I’m going to pretend to be a stranger trying to flirt with you, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you agree while looking at some candles for the apartment.

“Hey, mama,” she comes up to you with a smirk, rubbing her hands together like a total player.

“Hey,” you say nicely, trying not to laugh when her smile drops.

“Why are you saying ‘hey’ for? You have a girl already; don’t say ‘hey’ to nobody.”

“I’m trying to be nice?”

“Don’t be! Again, do it right,” she goes to the phone and cuts to start recording a second take. “Hi, pretty thing.”

You ignore her this time and keep looking at the candles; she nods satisfied.

“This candle smells just as good as you,” she grabs one, smelling it a little bit. It does smell truly good.

“For real? Let me smell it,” you try to grab it, brushing her fingers for a second, but she screams.

“Why are you touching another girl’s hand?!”

“I just wanted to smell the candle; I was not flirting.” Your laugh can be heard throughout the whole aisle; Ellie furrows her brows as she gazes at you from top to bottom.

“Oh, you ain’t going to shop alone again; next thing I know you’re leaving me for some candles.”

“Stop the drama, oh my god!” You fan your face; this was rather amusing. “Let’s try again; I swear I’ll do it better.”

Ellie shakes her head in disappointment while cuts the video and presses record again. “Well, hello there, beauti-”

“I’M MARRIED!” You scream very loud, and burst out laughing the next second. Ellie joins your laughter after she’s out of her shock and goes to end the video.

“I loved that; we should get married,” she said, saving her phone in her back pocket.

“First, help me buy things for our apartment, yeah?”

✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡ I need him to put me in a headlock so bad need him to make me feel weightless ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡

something i catch myself staring at for longer than i should:

My man doesn’t get enough love ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Category: Villain

shigaraki x afab!reader

tags: grinding, fingering, virginity loss (tomura's), more experienced reader, praise kink if you squint

warnings: this is a smut fic. | 18+ | MDNI / Ageless blogs DNI

wc: 2.2k

a/n: this is a character study wrapped in a smutty bow. Pre-MVA characterization. this is also my second time writing smut, pls go easy on me

happy birthday tomura baby <3

Tomura had been branded as a freak the instant he killed his entire family at only five-years old. It was a mark that stood stark against the surface of his pale skin, its burn traveling through every layer of skin and flesh, down to the bone. Even as a mere child, he was always treated like some sort of monster. The kind of guy you'd see coming and cross to the other side of the street. Someone you'd worry about following you home. A degenerate. A creep. A villain.

With All For One's guidance, he had learned to embrace these views of himself at a very young age. No one would ever help him, no hero or bystander. He was a villain, after all. And if he couldn't be anything but a disgusting villain, he might as well be the most disgusting villain in Japan.

His views changed when you stumbled into his life. At first, he didn't know how to react to you. To your kindness. You would tease him, call him cute. You were somehow capable of drawing out a softness in him—the part of him that wanted to pet every dog he saw out on a walk. The part of him that wanted to hold your hand. Parts of him he thought died with his family.

Growing up, Tomura was obsessed with villains. The kind that killed and destroyed. This obsession was found in all forms of media; comic books, television shows, and as he soon found, porn.

The villain stereotyping for porn was…interesting. Brutal and careless, the kind of person who took, not gave. A selfish lover, if one could even use that word. Reality didn't always equal fiction. And Tomura was a real villain, forged in iron and blood, not an over exaggerated caricature of evil. He hated how soft he felt when he was with you. How softly he wanted to fuck you.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. He was a villain, someone who wanted utter destruction, not for selfish reasons, but for the betterment of society, for fucks sake. Villains were harsh. Cruel. Possessing a ruthlessness and violence that was incongruent with affection or tenderness. All media, all stereotyping, should have made him merciless. His pornographic counterpart would have you folded over, cruelly pounding away at your cunt in a mating press, uncaring and unconcerned about the possible effects of decay from where his hands pressed below your knees.

It wasn't just that he was scared of hurting you, it was that a fear that he'd become the thing everyone expected him to be—cruel, uncaring, selfish—and those traits would come out when he was with you. With the ones he loved. Your love for Tomura came easy. Getting him to love himself came harder.

It started slow on your insistence of his comfort—long make out sessions in abandoned buildings that left both your lips red and swollen and his cock straining beneath his boxers, a wet spot on the front as evidence of his arousal. He always felt guilty after; dark finger-shaped bruises from where he gripped your ass and thighs tightly, desperate to feel your skin even through his artists gloves. Slowly though, he began to realize that you didn't exactly mind, often guiding his hands exactly where you wanted them, admiring the marks he made in the mirror.

It was during one of these sessions where things got a bit heavier than normal. You were sat, straddled over his lap, his hands kneading your ass under the hem of your shorts, when you suddenly and involuntarily jerked, grinding into his dick, hard beneath his black pants. From the way you shuddered and moaned into his mouth, the friction must have gone directly to your clit.

"God—sorry," you gasped.

Sliding his hands up to your hips, Tomura guided you over his cock, rocking his hips into yours.

"Don't be," He panted into your mouth.

Your pussy was so warm through the fabric of his pants as you began to grind your clit over his length, hard against his thigh. You looked so beautiful like this—moans escaping your lips as your face contorted in pleasure. You looked like you wanted him to fuck you.

Suddenly he was twitching in his pants, hot, wet cum soaking the fabric of his jeans, a choked whimper escaping his mouth.

He couldn't hear anything over the sound of yours and his breathing, coming out in short, quick breaths, his heartbeat in his ears.

Tightening his grip on your waist, he looked up at you. You had a satisfied, almost smug looking smile on your face. Leaning in to kiss him again, you murmured against his lips. "Whatever you want to do, I trust you." Suddenly he wasn't what people thought of him. He was a villain, yes, but he was capable of things no stereotyped reflection of himself would be able to do. He could fuck you hard if he wanted. But softly? He was allowed to do that as well, and it didn't make him any less of a villain.

Placing his hand on your lower back, he turned and sat up, flipping you onto your back on the couch. "Can I finger you?"

Your pupils dilated, large and dark with want. "Please." He wished he wasn't wearing his stupid gloves, that way he could decay your shorts and underwear off for quicker access. He wished he could control his quirk better. He wished a lot of things. He let you unbutton them, helping you tug them down and off the rest of the way.

"Someone's impatient," you laughed, breathy, as you spread your legs, bent at the knee.

He felt his face flush even further, if that was possible. "Shut up."

Slowly, he slid his ring finger over your folds, relinquishing in the way you shuddered from the touch, not from fear of him, but out of anticipation. Desire. A craving only he could satisfy. He licked his dry, cracking lips, smiling as he slowly slid his ring finger in all the way, coating it in a wetness that clung to his skin. He didn't know it'd be so.. soft. Warm.

His middle finger, clad in the fabric of his glove, went in next. You opened so easily, evidence of your arousal. Arousal for him. He felt his dick twitch in his pants. Curling his fingers up, he felt a small sense of pride course through him at the way you gasped. He pistoned his fingers in and out, focused on on your sweet spot, a wet, squelching noise filling his ears, combined with your soft moans and keens. Just for him. Because of him.

He grinned as your whines increased in pitch and frequency, your hands coming up to pull him down into a kiss as you tightened around his fingers as you came.

He made sure to get condoms on the next supply run.

It was a miracle you both were able to find a mattress that wasn't piss or blood-soaked, covered in questionable stains, or torn in the middle. The two of you managed to sequester some time alone, adding onto the list of current miracles leading to this moment.

Shaking, Tomura's hands wrapped around the condom, the lubrication from it wetting and sticking to his palm and fingers as he unrolled it over his length. A million thoughts raced through his head. What if his dick was too small? What if you thought it was ugly? Could a dick be ugly?

You were patiently watching him from on the bed, legs bent to the side. From the way your eyes widened when he stripped off his t-shirt and kicked his pants and boxers aside, he supposed he could toss the "small" and "ugly" insecurity in the trash. There was an obvious air of lust and affection in your gaze as your eyes traversed the planes of his body. He bristled, feeling undeserving of your gaze.

"Do you have to watch me so intently?"

You laughed at how his embarrassment only reddened him further. "I can look away if you want," the smile on your lips turned playful, mirth glinting in your eye. His brow furrowed as he was certain whatever words came next were meant to embarrass him further.

"But you have a pretty dick, so I'll keep watching if you don't mind."

"Shut up," he groaned despite his own smile as he lightly pushed you to lie back on the bed, your laughter singing in his ears before silenced by his lips on yours. His cock, hot and heavy, tapped against the plane of your stomach as he crawled over you, caging your body in with his.

He felt a smug sense of satisfaction as he pinched your nipple with one hand, making you gasp into his mouth. "You're the pretty one."

Separating for air, he sat up, leaning back on his calves. Your cunt was covered in a sheer layer of your arousal, pretty and flushed. Sliding his fingers in just like before, he scissored them against your soaked walls, stretching you out in preparation. Once sufficiently stretched, he lined the head of his cock up to your entrance. Slowly, he thrust in with a low groan, eyes rolling back. You were somehow warmer, tighter around his length than his fingers. You gasped, fisting the blanket underneath you as he pushed in, inch by inch, until he bottomed out.

He looked down at where the two of you connected, blue tufts of hair trailing down to the shaft of his cock, swallowed by your tight hole.

"It's, uh-," Tomura panted, face strained from behind the light blue strands of hair that curtained off the planes of his cheeks, "-a lot tighter than expected."

He looked ethereal like this, a flushed, peachy hue painting his skin down to his bare chest. "Yeah," you sighed, pushing his hair behind his ears. "Take your time. I need a second, too."

Your thumb traced over the planes of his face, over the rough texture of the scar on his lip. His hips jerked as he kissed your thumb, leaning down to kiss your lips, gloved hands creating waves over the blankets like sand dunes in a desert.

For a moment he lingered, lost in the saccharine taste of your tongue and the syrupy wetness between your legs as your walls pulsed and clenched around his dick, the vibrations of your moans making his lips tingle. All the porn in the world wouldn’t have prepared him for how tender and warm this felt, the soft expanse of your thighs grounding him and keeping him close.

Slowly he began to move his hips, relishing in the way your sex gripped his cock, the friction of your pussy against every vein and nerve slowing and streamlining his thoughts to follow one command: faster.

His hips sped up, chasing the friction his nerves so desired. He became enraptured by your face- every twitch between your brows, every noise or whimper you made, the way your face contorted when he hit just the right spot. He felt high off it, the expanse of your pleasure evident from every ridge and valley of your face, contorted and shifting with every moan. Chasing the high, he shifted the angle of his hips, your moans increasing in pitch as one hand grasped at the base of his neck, gently tugging at the hairs at his nape, the other rubbing circles into your clit.

"Please—you're so good, you feel so good—" you gasped, voice coming out choked around every thrust. His brain lagged from the praise, a brief stutter in his hips as his thoughts clipped through his head.

"Can you get on top."

"Yeah," you laughed, breathy with amusement at his reaction. Flipping over, you sunk down on his length, somehow deeper than he was before, with a low groan. "Oh fuck." Slowly you began to move your hips, grinding your swollen, puffy clit over the whispy hairs leading down to his shaft, an arousal and slickness that mixed between the two of you leaking down onto his skin. He wished he could feel it on his cock, how sticky and wet you were as you surrounded him. He bet it felt perfect.

His hands grasped around your hips as you rode him, face flushed and sweaty, chest and beading with droplets of sweat. From this angle, his dick was hitting the perfect spot, making you see stars. A tightness in your belly grew as you increased your pace, riding him with a fervor as you approached your orgasm. You stilled as your pussy fluttered around him, tightening as you unraveled. He was close before, but as you tightened, the dam broke. With a final thrust, he spilled hot bursts of cum into the condom, his grip tight around your soft hips.

You slumped against him, bare tits pressed into his chest, forehead nestled into the crook of his neck. A wave of calm serenity washed over him as he pressed a kiss into your hairline, lightly muscled arms wrapping snug around your back.

You sighed, content, mumbling into his neck.

"I love you."

He felt his dick twitch from where it still lay inside you. "We're doing that again later."

This right here DELICIOUS😆

ellie with a breeding kink is all i think about

it’s been a while. 💗🎀

cw: strap on sex (r!reciving), breeding kink, mating press, darcyphilia, semi-public sex, protective ellie. MDNI

her forehead presses onto yours.

her firm chest merges with your own, she squeezes down your breast, plays with the plushy fat and flicks your hard nipple with her thumb.

she’s sweating, face painted in a red hue, eyebrows scrunched together, a prominent line in between.

when her large hand intertwines with yours and squeezes it, you nearly cry. her thumb brushes upon your scorching hot, sticky and glistening skin and she caresses, she comforts.

“can’t t-take it” you hiccup.

oh, she knows.

she shushes you intently, smiling against your lips so big you can feel her teeth graze them, then she pecks your shaky bottom one and suckles your silly idle pout away.

“yes y’can baby, know you can”, her voice is raspy, quiet, velvety and nothing short of tantalizing.

a fat tear streamlines down your cheek, you whine, trembling voice breaking a pathetic screech.

you feel so full.

“mhm, keep crying, gonna make me cum if you keep crying”

you squeeze her hand and she squeezes yours again. hard. it nearly hurts, it doesn’t, though.

ellie lets out a throaty chuckle. “jus’ wet everywhere, huh?…” she slams her hips harder, harsher, she keeps on chuckling, her pelvis meets yours then her voice cracks. “cheeks wet, pussy’s—“ slam! “fuckin’” slam! “weeping”

patrol’s don’t usually go like this. hell, you usually don’t even go on patrols. she doesn’t like it when you do, she scoffs when you ask, and this time — this time she just nodded. “kay, grab the gun”, she spoke quietly, and then she opened the door. when you stepped out of her home, her chest pressed against your back.

you felt a bulge against your ass. she wore it for you. you didn’t notice it this morning, didn’t notice it in the early afternoon. only now, when you stepped outside to the gentle caress of a warm breeze.

“gonna be good though, right?” she rasped against your skin, you trembled, you nodded. she squeezed your hip then stepped aside.

“mhm, i bet” was all she muttered in response.

this wasn’t a regular patrol, that’s for sure.

so when your soaking, achy, red hole squeezes around her thick silicone shaft and sucks her in like she might run away if you don’t, ellie’s eyes go crossed. she bites her bottom lip hard, puffs hot air out of her lips and grunts out your name. you moan so sweetly, squeaking around her almost, ellie has to shake her head and chuckle in dismay. “never t-t-takin’ you on p-patrol again, filthy, fuckin’ girl”

you wail a “no, please!”

how terrible.

she fucks you harder.

spreading your legs forcefully with her palms, your thighs begin to shake and burn, ellie squats in between them and lowers her gaze to watch your cunt take her girth in. her pussy twitches in response, clit pumping and rubbing against the base.

she has her jeans down to her ass.

she’s so wet it streams down her naked creamy thighs.

she always fucking smiles, has that devilish twinkle in her eye, that cocky scoff leaving her lips when her ears catch on to the wet squelching noises coming from your abused and swollen cunt.

it’s disgusting, filthy and obscene.

then she toys and plays with your clit like it’s her goddamn ps controller, moving her thumb in calculated circles and it’s delicious.

“el-l-lie”

you squeak and wail like a dogs brand new chew toy.

“s’my name, mhm, louder” she commands, voice not as velvety now, not as smooth, not as sharp, only consumed by desperation. you utter her name again, louder, she agrees, she mewls. “ellie’s, fuuuuuuuh! ngh— sweet, fuckin’ pussy”

you recognize that tone. it’s fuckdrunk and pussy whipped and she’s closer than ever, the smooth milky and creamy ring your cunt formed on her dick a hypnotic show.

you egg her on.

“s’de-ee-p, so deep, ellie! your dick’s so g—“

ellie falls on her hands and reaches closer to your face. her hot breath overwhelms you, fans over your nose and your mouth, then her freckles overwhelm you, then her green orbs overwhelm you. you scream out her name, she shifts her weight on to her shoulders and slaps her hand on your mouth. you bite down on her flesh and ellie winces, then places it on your lips again with a slap.

she knows what game you’re playing with your filthy words and your whorish whines. attempting to make her cum before you do — it’s playful for you, for her… it’s so much more.

it’s an ego thing.

so she shuts you the fuck up.

and now she looks terrifying.

you have dirt on your scalp, grass stuck to your sticky and salty tears covered face, you don’t care.

so ellie picks up her pace, slamming her cock deeper and faster down and into your cunt, fucking her entire length into you, her tip kissing and grazing and kissing the bottom of your cervix each time she bottoms out. your moans are guttural even when blocked by her hand.

your tears are so beautiful, shiny and sleek and they keep on goddamn streaming down your swollen puffy cheeks, ellie moves closer to your ear and builds herself a nest there. then she whispers, sweet praises and sweet nothings till your thighs shake some more.

“m’gonna fuck a kid into you, huh? want my fuckin’ babies, yeah?”

it’s a juxtaposition.

how are her words so lewd and her voice so saccharin and sweet as honeycomb and vanilla cupcakes. how is she so quiet and so loud.

she grunts harsh.

you’re consumed by the sounds coming from her lips and the sounds of her cock slapping inside your cunt.

“fill you your cute pussy u-up with my fuckin’ cum, you’d like that, know you would, you’d love it, you’d fuckin— cream f-for it”

your moans grow louder and louder, she replaces her palm on your mouth with two salty fingers down your throat. you don’t bite them, you suck.

“good girl”, ellie rasps.

then ellie keeps on mumbling.

“t-then…” she sucks on your earlobe because she can’t help it, then she pecks your cheek and tastes your tear. she swallows, “no m-more fuckin’ questions about patrols, none of that fuckin’ shit, jus’— oh fuck, filled with m-my fuckin’ babies”