#I LOVE MY WIFE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cl0udy3 · 16 days ago

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PLEASE PLEASE DO ELLIE WITH A BREEDING KINK PLEASE I BEG YOU

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐓

ellie williams x fem!reader literally just smut and the smallest amount of fluff at the end cw: breeding kink, use of a strap on, overstimulation, strap on has synthetic cum, cum play i think, honestly i dont know what else to warn of just 18+ wc: 1780 a/n: i think this is the first request i've gotten that isn't a mutual, i love you pls enjoy :D

The first time you feel it, you gasp—because it’s hot. Not just the strap-on pressing into you, thick and pulsing, but the way Ellie’s been moving. Slow, deep. Measured. Like she’s memorizing the way you flutter around her, like she’s in no rush to be anywhere but inside you.

You’re on all fours, arms trembling, muscles already beginning to give under the weight of everything—her hands, her rhythm, her presence.

Ellie’s behind you, one palm steady against your lower back, the other curled tight around your hip like she owns it.

Like she owns you.

“You hear that?” she murmurs, voice low and honey-dark against your spine. “That slick little sound every time I fuck back in?”

You try to nod, but she gives a sharp thrust—your breath catches in your throat as your body jerks forward with a soft, broken sound.

“God, baby,” she groans, dragging her hips back just enough to leave you empty—aching—before slamming forward again. “You’re fucking dripping.”

She leans in then, chest flush against your back, warm skin to warm skin, her breath ghosting over your neck. The weight of her pins you down in a way that makes your pulse stutter.

"You wanna know the best part?" she whispers, lips brushing the shell of your ear, words sweet and cruel all at once. "This strap? It's not just for show tonight."

You blink, dazed. Your head lolls to the side, already swimming.

She chuckles—low, dark, mean. “It’s loaded.”

Your stomach flips.

“You’re lying,” you whisper, your voice frayed, cracking at the edges.

She grinds in deeper—so deep—until your knees threaten to buckle beneath you.

“Feel that?” she purrs. “That weight? That heat?”

You let out a whimper, eyes fluttering shut.

“That’s what I’m giving you, babe. Not just a fuck. Not just this—” she pulls out halfway, the sudden emptiness making you whine “—but a full load. Gonna fill you up so good.”

Your moan is helpless, muffled against the sheets, your thighs starting to shake. You’re already wrecked and she hasn’t even started yet.

Ellie kisses your shoulder—slow, claiming—before sitting back up and planting both hands firmly on your waist.

And then she really starts fucking you.

No teasing. No games.

Just hard, relentless strokes that have you seeing stars, pressing back against her like you’re trying to climb out of your own skin. Each thrust is a wave that crashes over you, your cunt so wet it’s obscene, the sound echoing off the walls every time her hips slam into you.

She’s panting now. Cursing.

“You’re takin’ it so damn well,” she mutters, almost like she’s in awe. “Fucking made for this. Bet your pussy’s already tryin’ to milk it outta me.”

You cry out—loud, wild, desperate.

She loves it.

“Gonna come in you,” she growls, voice ragged. “Fuck, I have to. You need it, don’t you?”

You nod frantically, barely coherent. Just gasps. Moans. Crooked, breathless please’s.

Her hand slips around to your front, fingers slick as they find your clit—swollen and begging for her. She rubs in tight, ruthless circles, syncing with the rhythm of her hips.

“Beg for it,” she growls. “Come on. Tell me.”

“Wanna feel it,” you sob, wrecked and trembling. “Want you to come inside me. Please, Ellie—please—I want it so bad—”

That’s all she needs.

She drives in deep, one final time, her whole body tightening like a wire.

Her hand moves to the base of the strap. Presses something.

And then you feel it.

The heat. The weight. Liquid warmth spilling into you in thick, pulsing waves. It rushes deep and slow, filling you until your body can’t tell the difference between pleasure and overload.

Your whole world snaps white.

You come hard—loud and shaking—clenching around the strap as her cum pours into you, grinding your hips back like your body’s trying to hold onto every drop.

Ellie moans—low and guttural, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades as she rides it out.

But she doesn’t pull out.

She stays inside.

When you collapse, it’s not graceful—it’s a full-body crumple, face-first into the sheets, limbs shaking and useless. Your breath comes in short, stuttered bursts. Everything’s wet. Your skin. The sheets. Your thighs, sticky and trembling.

Ellie follows you down without a word, still buried deep inside.

She curls around you from behind, one leg thrown over yours, strap pressing heavy between your thighs. Her chest is slick against your back, rising and falling with shallow, uneven breaths. You feel her heartbeat everywhere. In your spine. In the strap. In the way her arms wrap around you like she’s afraid you’ll vanish.

It’s too much. Too hot. Too full.

And it’s still dripping.

She kisses the back of your neck. Soft. Barely there. Like a secret.

Her hand drifts down—lazy, possessive—settling low on your belly. Right over the fullness she’s given you. She presses gently, and your breath catches.

“Keep it in,” she whispers, lips brushing your skin. “Just like that. Let it sit.”

You twitch, overstimulated, but you don’t move. Can’t. Her weight is everywhere. Her scent, her sweat, her breath. You’re wrapped in her like a second skin.

And then—God—her hand moves between your legs again.

You jerk violently, legs kicking weakly against the sheets. “Ellie—”

She kisses your shoulder. Calms you with her mouth before she even says a word.

“One more, baby,” she murmurs. “Just one more for me. Want you messy. Want it dripping down your thighs.”

She starts moving again.

Not fast.

Not rough.

Just deep.

Slow, dragging thrusts that make your spine arch and your hands claw weakly at the bed. She’s not trying to break you. Not anymore. Now she’s claiming. Reminding. Filling every inch of you with slow, deliberate strokes.

You’re whimpering now—quiet, wet little noises. The kind that don’t come from pain or even pleasure anymore. Just surrender.

The air is thick with sweat and slick and heat, heavy with every sound your body makes for her. The strap slides in and out like it belongs there, and her cum leaks around it, warm and sticky, trailing down your thighs in thick, glistening lines.

Ellie watches it.

Stares.

Her hand moves again—down, between your legs. Her fingers dip into the mess. She moans at the feel of it.

Then she does the unthinkable.

She gathers what’s leaked out—slowly, deliberately—and pushes it back in with two thick fingers.

You scream.

It’s not loud. It’s not sharp. But it’s wrecked. Raw. A helpless, breathless noise that dies in your throat as your body locks up.

“Shhh,” Ellie soothes, lips against your ear. “Can’t waste it, baby. Need it all in you.”

You sob, trembling under her, every nerve ending lit and sparking.

“I—fuck—I can’t—”

She presses her forehead to your shoulder, her breath trembling.

“You can,” she says softly. “You already are.”

She curls her fingers inside you. Just once. Just to feel the way you flutter and twitch around her.

You moan her name, broken and soft.

And it undoes her.

She melts against your back, wraps both arms tight around you and holds you like she’s scared you’ll come apart. And maybe you are. You’re so far gone, so full and overwhelmed and loved in a way that leaves no room for shame.

“Gonna take care of you now,” she whispers, voice ragged with the weight of it all. “I got you. Just breathe.”

And you do.

You let her.

Because she’s still inside you.

Still full.

And her arms around you are the only thing holding you together.

Time gets strange after that.

You don’t know how long you lay there—half-conscious, too full and too gone to move. The only thing anchoring you is Ellie. The press of her chest against your back. Her arms wound tight around you like you're something fragile she’s terrified to break.

You’re not even sure if the strap’s still in you until you shift a little and feel the wet weight of it, thick and heavy, keeping her mess inside. You make a tiny sound—barely a whimper—and Ellie kisses the back of your neck.

“I know, baby,” she murmurs, her voice all silk and ache. “I know.”

She doesn’t rush to pull out. Doesn’t try to move you. Just lies there, wrapped around your wrecked body, fingertips tracing soft patterns across your stomach. The spot where her cum sits thick and warm, like she’s painting it in.

“You did so good,” she whispers. “Took all of me. Let me ruin you, just like that.”

You exhale shakily. Your voice is barely there when you speak.

“I feel…so full…”

Ellie hums, nuzzles into your shoulder. “That’s because you are, sweetheart. Stuffed full’a me.”

Her hand moves down again, between your thighs—but not to tease. Just to feel the mess she’s made, to swipe her fingers gently along your folds where her release is still leaking out.

You flinch, too sensitive, but she soothes you with soft kisses.

“Easy,” she murmurs. “Just checking. Want to make sure you’re okay.”

You nod slowly, even though your body still feels like melted wax.

“I got you,” she says again, like a promise. “Let me take care of you.”

Eventually, when your breathing steadies and your hands stop shaking, she shifts. Pulls out slowly, gently, her free hand stroking your hip like she’s apologizing for the loss.

The moment she’s gone, you feel the drip—hot, running down your thighs. You moan softly, squirming at the sensation.

Ellie shushes you with another kiss.

“Stay right there,” she says.

She disappears for a moment, then returns with a warm, damp cloth. You barely open your eyes as she starts to clean you up—careful, reverent. She murmurs soft nothings under her breath as she works.

“You’re such a good girl. Let me fill you up like that. Let me have you.”

She kisses your inner thigh.

“I should take a picture,” she says, voice playful but low. “Your pretty little cunt, leaking for me. Proof you’re mine.”

You whine, pressing your face into the pillow, but you don’t tell her no.

Once she’s done, she tosses the cloth aside and climbs back into bed, pulling you into her arms. Your body fits against hers like it was always meant to be there—her chest under your cheek, her fingers carding slowly through your hair.

“Still with me?” she asks quietly.

You hum a soft yes. You’re tired, fucked out, but safe. Held.

Ellie presses a kiss to your temple.

“Good. Just sleep, baby. I’ve got you.”

You drift off wrapped in her warmth, her scent all around you, the ache between your legs a pulsing reminder of everything she gave you.

And everything you let her take.

this was kind of rushed and short and i think maybe a little bad pls no hate ily guys

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