#ellie williams

[jinxvex]

♱ dom, sub, or switch? ft. sevika, vi, jinx, caitlyn, mel, ellie, and abby. ♱

syp. headcanons on whether they would dom, sub, or switch + how they’d do it.

cw: nsfw content!!, degradation, praise, dirty talk, teasing, mocking, dumbification, cursing (obv), daddy/mommy kink, mentions of tying up/gagging, strap-on sex, fingering, cunnilingus, handcuffs, slapping, spanking, pet names (baby, babe, doll, hon, toots, darling, pretty girl, etc.), mentions of soft sex/morning sex, breeding kink, possessive behavior, punishments, hair-pulling, tribbing, mentions of gunplay/knifeplay, just rough and nasty shit!! (+ more...)

disclaimer: this is just my opinion! (and maybe self-indulgent)

sevika: a mean service dom!! (subs very rarely)

♱ she loves to tease/mock/make fun of you during sex! it’s all love though, she knows you enjoy it.

♱ ex. of her teasing/mocking you: "you sound like a fuckin' porn star when you moan like that..." + "fuck, doll. you're suckin' me in that needy pussy. don't need any lube when you're already dripping all over the fuckin' sheets you slut."

♱ dirty talks you as though you’re just a slut that she’s using for her pleasure but her actions are the complete opposite of that! she thoroughly enjoys making you feel good in the way you want to!

♱ brat tamer! sevika will bend that ass over TRUST.

♱ if you like praise, she’s in your ear like, “yeah, baby. you like that shit, huh? makin’ those pretty noises for me.” + “love touchin’ on this wet fuckin’ pussy.”

♱ if you like degradation, she goes crazy. teasing you and belittling you makes her cunt throb, “look at you. you like getting fucked like a whore? fuckin’ pathetic.” + “jus’ wanna get fucked dumb, don’t you? brain gets real empty when you’re full of dick.”

♱ i’ve said this before but she prefers giving over receiving and being the one to make you fall apart. although she won’t deny you giving her pleasure as well, she just doesn’t prefer it.

♱ sevika likes strapping! no, she LOVES strapping. it makes her feel masculine in all the best ways and anything that makes you feel good, she LOVES!

♱ has a thing for titles during sex! or just you saying her name! do with that information what you will...

♱ if she were to sub, she’d lowkey be embarrassed and quiet compared to her talkative nature when she doms (lol).

…

vi: a switch with a SLIGHT preference for domming.

(soft service dom + obedient service(y) sub)

♱ vi has some similarities in the way sevika doms but vi is definitely less mean and prefers to praise you and lowkey baby you (unless you want to be degraded!) she just wants you to feel good + will do anything to achieve that.

♱ she likes using the strap but prefers to use her hands and mouth to make you cum. she loves seeing you cream, gush, & squirt up close.

♱ she NEEDS to see how good she makes you feel and will even ask/beg you to tell her, “c’mon baby, tell daddy how good she’s making you feel? need to hear you, sweetheart.” + “lemme hear you, please.”

♱ + yes!! she likes being called daddy (idc!!) but in a submissive context as well as when she doms. she loves it when you’re mocking her while you fuck her like, “aww. am i making daddy feel good?” and she’s like “fuck yeah, babe. gonna make me fuckin' cum.”

♱ vi likes her wrists cuffed and mouth tied when she’s getting fucked into the mattress + she loves the strap being used on her!!

♱ she just wants to be good for you! praise her! tell her she’s doing good!

♱ vi enjoys letting you stuff her face in your cunt and she likes it when you use her for your pleasure + also enjoys when you pin her down so she has no choice but to let you give her the sloppiest, messiest head imaginable, “oh fuck!! s-shit fuuuuck. right t-there”

♱ tribbing/scissoring with her is like pure heaven! nobody’s even subbing or domming in those moments, just pure desire, need. the feeling of your cunt on hers, the filthy wet noises, and your face make her cum so fast.

♱ chronic lover-girl through and through!! she’s always telling you how much she loves you when she’s in it (or when you’re in it), “love you so much, so perfect f’me, baby.” + “love you! feels s-so good”

…

jinx: a switch with a preference for subbing.

(bratty sub + playful mean-ish dom)

♱ jinx is the type to be sassy/bratty during sex whether she's domming or subbing! she's definitely always pulling your hips/hands towards her so you can fuck her deeper and she's so mean about it, "ughhh, toots, deeper! moreee!! you're not fucking me hard enough!"

♱ she always has that needy 'fuck me' look on her face--eyebrows furrowed and eyes glossed over as she bites her lower lip and tries to seduce you into doing whatever she wants. it works too.

♱ she gets carried away with the dirty talk. i mean CARRIED AWAY, "d'ya like the way my pussy feels against yours, baby? how wet 'n creamy i am? 'm all riled up for you, hon." + "wanna fuck ya next, make you gush all over 'n mess shit up!"

♱ wants to be put in her place deep down...

♱ jinx also loves soft sex; the feeling of you gently pinning her legs in the air when you both wake up in the morning and making out with her cunt + she's a head pusher LOL! as kinky as she is, it's your softness and willingness to please her that makes her truly feel good.

♱ a feen for sloppy sex. she loves it all and she's not afraid to get her hands dirty if it means she gets to get off and have fun! she'll have your fingers all pruned up and your mouth dripping wet by the time she's done with you.

♱ she likes to be marked up and claimed + will also mark you up so everybody knows you're hers.

♱ gunplay/knifeplay enthusiast.

♱ jinx loves it when you tell her how perfect 'n pretty she is when she's subbing... when she's dimming, however... she's real mean!

♱ sits on your face and holds your head where her cunt is, "keep lickin', sweetness, don't stop until i cum! or else i'll have to hurt cha!"

...

caitlyn: a switch with no preference.

(soft-ish mommy dom + soft/obedient sub)

♱ caitlyn gives mommy dom because she definitely has specific rules for when you can touch yourself (if you're even allowed to) and she's big on manners and politeness. she wants you to be the best girl you can be and will reward you for doing so.

♱ she likes it when you call her mommy in and out of bed, only in private though.

♱ her definition of a 'reward' is plunging her long, thin fingers into your tight wet cunt as she rests her back against the headboard. your upper back is mirroring hers as it rests against her stomach and your lower back pressed plush up against her clothed pussy, "fuck, darling. you're such a little minx, being so good lately. you knew mommy would do this to you, didn't you?" + "good girl. you deserve this," she whispers into your ear as her fingers reach inside you, as deep as they can go.

♱ the type of dom to pick your clothes, shoes, and make-up out for you before special events; especially at fancy dinners and 'n rich piltover people shit. she wants everyone to see that you're hers; that she's got yet another thing for others to be jealous of.

♱ she hates to have to punish you! but she will! let's say you copped an attitude or got needy at one of those important fancy events... that soft mommy dom role that you know and love would come crashing down so fast. rather than comforting whispers of "good girl" near your ears, you hear "you've been such a bad girl. i've got to punish you now, love, i'm sorry." + "but, hey... it'll be over soon. maybe next time you'll think about being such a misbehaving little whore.”

♱ as punishment, she puts her strap on you and forces you to watch her ass jiggle and thighs shake as she bounces on the faux cock in reverse cowgirl. if you even think about touching her, you're in for it.

♱ queen of spanking your ass and rubbing a soothing hand over it when she's done, profusely apologizing for causing you pain. but she had to do it! or else you'd never learn.

♱ when she subs for you, she's so loud. not talkative, but loud. her moans echo through her private chambers as you pleasure her.

♱ your name is on repeat when she subs!! she's always saying it.

♱ she likes when you pull her ponytail and slap her ass when you hit it from the back, she's verbal then-- always urging you to "mmm, pull harder, yes!! like t-that..." + "s-shit, please make me cum, p-please."

...

mel: a controlling/power bottom sub.

♱ mel is the type of sub who has dom energy but channels that into being the most pleasure-seeking power bottom sub ever!! that doesn't mean she doesn't care about your pleasure, but she prefers receiving compared to giving when engaging in sex with you.

♱ she loves to grab at your ass when you're strapping her in missionary to force you to fuck into her deeper, harder, and faster, "more. give me more." + "are you going to fuck me? or slack off the entire time?"

♱ bratty asf!

♱ when you finally do put her in her place, she's speechless. you have her in doggy style, forcing her back into a painful arch as you manhandle her hips up and down on your strap--you unmoving as her warm walls slide smoothly along the thick ridges of the plastic dick. her eyes roll to the back of her head as her mouth forms a perfect O shape, "uh-uh-uhng fuck! mmph!" + "yes! yes! yes! f-fuck!"

♱ when you're eating her out, she's much like jinx, tangling her hands in your hair while grinding her messy cunt along your mouth.

♱ wants to be filled up. (chronic breeding kink)

♱ to add to that, mel ikes to roleplay as if she's forcing you to cum inside her, wrapping her legs around your waist, strong grip trapping you. her voice is dripping with desire, a need to be claimed--taken, "yes, my sweet. cum inside me. don't you fucking pull out."

♱ the times when she does touch you, she's looking deep into your eyes as she does so, needing to see the way she affects you.

♱ tribbing princess! she twerks her ass on your cunt like she's made for it, "yes, honey, i looove that... fucking cunt's so wet f'you, love."

♱ i have an inkling that mel likes being punished... she craves someone who will force her to take responsibility and accountability.

...

abby: a MEAN ass hard dom. just plain mean.

♱ abby is EVIL. like the meanest on this list. she FUCKS. HARD.

♱ she doesn't like subbing, i fear! she likes receiving but not subbing.

♱ if you thought sevika was mean, you've got another thing coming if you don't think abby is much worse. the way she taunts and borderline bullies you when she fucks you is criminal (criminally hot).

♱ ex. of "taunts and borderline bullies you": "take it. take this shit. why you runnin', huh? you were beggin' me to fuck this fuckin' cunt just a second ago, right, slut? so you'd better suck it up and just take it." + "yeeeahh, you nasty little whore. takin' daddy's dick sooo well, babe." + "mm, fuck!! you need this dick. you need this fuckin' shit."

♱ daddy is what she wants to be called. plain and simple. if you slip up and accidentally call her abby when she's in it, she's pressing herself deeper inside of you, thrusting in you painfully, "what did you say, bitch? what did you fuckin' say?!" + "not my name, baby. 's daddy to you. daddy's the one who makes this pussy gush."

♱ will fuck you in front of a mirror and force you to keep eye contact with her regardless of whether it's her cock or her fingers drilling your hole.

♱ eye contact is important for her, she's slapping you across the face if you divert your eyes away from her own after she specifically ordered you not to, "the fuck?! told you to look at me, princess. look at me when i'm fucking you, kay?"

♱ slaps you! chokes you! gags you! ties you up!

♱ her tough facade slightly cracks when she gets lost in the way you're rolling your hips in a circle, clit rubbing against hers, "s-shit's gonna make me nut, baby." + "fuuuck! that pussy's perfect, babe."

♱ yes, she says "nut" when talking about cumming unironically. sue me.

♱ the thought of breeding you, getting you pregnant has her FERAL. the first time she heard you mutter a quiet "cum in me, daddy." had her hips stuttering for a second, eyes flashing with feelings of an almost primal instinct. the only thought that was running through her mind at that moment was ‘breed. breed. breed’, "f-fuckin' hell, angel. do you want daddy to cum in you? put a baby inside you?" + "wanna get you fuckin' pregnant. gonna fuck you until my cum is spilling out."

♱ CEO of daddy kink and rough, nasty sex.

...

ellie: a switch with an unknown(?) preference.

(playful/chill dom + shy sub)

♱ ellie is a bit more laid back/chill when it comes to domming! she's not super big on punishments and rules and all that jazz (unless you asked her to be) and she enjoys you willingly submitting to her without having to do too much.

♱ an enjoyer of fun, and sometimes silly sex.

♱ she loves to talk to you and embarrass you a little bit! if you're noisy or audibly wet, you're not hearing the end of it from her, "daaamn, babe. you hear that? you hear that, huh? 's me making that pussy wet." + "you're so loud, baby, you like puttin' on a show, yeah?"

♱ (s)trap queen! she enjoys using it and having it used on her!

♱ she won't degrade you as much but she occasionally mixes it in with her usual praise, "fuck, pretty girl. you really are a slut but... just for me though, hmm?" + "you look so beautiful all exposed for me."

♱ ellie can get possessive when she's in it. she's always using "me" and "mine" to verbalize her claim on you.

♱ the best at fingering on this list...

♱ her favorite way to be dominated by you is when you flip her over and fuck her from the back. it's such a pretty sight; her bent over with her back arched fucking back on you while you pin her down, forcing her to just, take it.

♱ ellie likes it when you use her own words against her (from when she was dominant) and throw it in her face, "you hear that, ellie? you hear that little pussy getting wet for me, huh?" + "you're so loud, ellie. gonna wake up our neighbors."

♱ wants her ass slapped raw.

♱ she goes "uugh, uh, uh, ungnh, f-fuuck!!" when you fuck her. she gets very overwhelmed with how good she's feeling and blacks out.

...

ignore the insane amount of tags...

[cheyisagirlkisser]

mdni. ellie williams blurb.

Thinking about Ellie’s obsession with skin-to-skin contact. She needs to feel the rush of your pulse beat onto her lips, feel your grabby hands all over her body when she fucks you, she needs to drown in the feeling of your lips against hers. Even when it’s not sexual, she needs to feel you completely naked, legs entangled in hers and arms wrapped around each other. She thinks about how your chest feels completely against hers, tits smushed together and oddly comforting. When she feels horny and needs more, though? A strap-on works wonders for skin-to-skin. Having you in a prone bone, she can’t help but just lay her perky tits against your back. She gets even more worked up with the extra contact, her hips trying to push even deeper into you as if she can’t bury herself deep enough in you. Something is really, really special about your pussies making contact, though. Both of your folds probably wet from the foreplay, clits swollen and in need of each other’s.. Ellie loves to hear the way her pussy sounds as it rubs against yours, and the feeling has her actually feeling flustered in the moment from how intimate it truly is. It’s just the way you respond to each other, too. Your hips involuntarily buck against the feeling, and she gets truly pussydrunk alternating between savoring the heat of your cunt against hers, brushing clits and essentially creating a slow but steadily burning bonfire between your bodies and rutting against your pussy as if it’ll disappear if she doesn’t get to cum. Most importantly, Ellie loves the aftermath. She gets to just hold you close after all is said and done, feel every inch of skin connect until she falls asleep.

taglist: @kaykeryyy

[olliesasimplething]

Another piece inspired by @lavendercoloredglasses fic! Angsty band Ellie makes my heart soar

[adhdprincess]

The Enemy-to-Parent plotline would be 🔥 if Tess lived like-

And-

Was scrolling through AO3 and found this gem

Enemy to parent is a trope we have to popularise lmao

[satellitespinner]

TAP THRICE ! (m.list)

synopsis: messy friendship drama and overbearing neighbours. thats what your life has come to. you went from thriving as the lead singer of your carefully crafted band, to watching them succumb to a cheugy paramore cover band. how embarrassing. so, what better to do than run away move?

| set in 2000’s ,, reader is kinda pretentious.. ,, reader + ellie are early 20’s and grunge ,, dealer!ellie ,, unrealistic depiction of alot of stuff ,, pop culture refrences ,, miscommunication,, future smut ,, semi-toxic behaviour but we move ,, possible use of y/n ,, dissing (cause like- its the 2000s like cmon) ,, angst but its mostly fluff (from me? wow) ,, slow updates. | author speaks: imma try to keep this to like 4 chaps but we all know how i am. sigh. anyways enjoy and read the bottom notes plspls

one

two

three

four

as always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated and encouraged! please talk to me and i will talk back! also, just send me an ask to be added to the taglist (do not bring that shit in my comments.)

perm tags : none, as of right now.

my special girls : @cupidsribbns @hcneymooners/ @spcncershasting 𓆩♡𓆪

[astralnymphh]

loser!ellie such a fucking doofus she giggles when she catches herself getting waayyyy into it. like, what do you mean she's taking her girlfriend's silicone dick 7 inches deep fully wet and staying full whimper mode..

[nomie-11]

Chase After You

masterlist! | part 2 | part 3

synopsis: vi swears she doesn't have a soulmate, you swear that your soulmate is a masochist. Turns out you do exist, and turns out Vi plays hockey

pairings: vi x reader, lowkey ellie x dina

Your soulmate must have been an absolute idiot. 

Caitlyn said that he “or she, I don’t discriminate,” was probably a masochist because every day it seemed you woke up with another bruise or another cut. You couldn’t even count the amount of times you had woken up in the morning with a concussion—it was a miracle your soulmate was even alive at this point. 

“I’m just saying,” Caitlyn continued as she leaned against the counter of the campus coffee shop where the two of you had made it a ritual to meet after your clinical rotations. “Whoever they are, they’ve got to have the worst luck—or they’re actively looking for trouble.” 

You sipped your coffee, wincing as the hot liquid hit the tender inside of your lip. A split lip, courtesy of your soulmate, who had clearly been in some kind of fight last night. Again. 

“Maybe they’re a professional fighter,” you mused, though you were only half-serious. “That would explain all the bruises.” 

Caitlyn snorted. “Or just clumsy.” 

“Clumsy doesn’t explain the frequency, Caitlyn” you countered, setting  your coffee down. “If they’re not in some sort of contact sport, then they’re probably fighting for their life every day. Literally.” 

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You sure you didn’t end up with some sort of action hero? Like, next thing you know, they’ll show up at your rotations bleeding everywhere, and your soulmate bond will suddenly light up in a dramatic fashion.”

“Very funny,” you muttered, though the thought lingered. You were in your second year of nursing school, constantly surrounded by patients—maybe Caitlyn wasn’t too far off. But the soulmate connection was supposed to be this once-in-a-lifetime, world-shaking thing, and you’d never felt anything remotely close to that. 

The coffee shop door chimed, and a gust of cold air swept through as someone stumbled in. You didn’t look up at first, too focused on scrawling notes in your planner about your upcoming rotations. But then Caitlyn��s voice dropped into a low, surprising whisper. 

“Uh, okay. Forget clumsy. I think your soulmate might actually be a hockey player.” 

You glanced up, curious, and froze. 

Standing at the counter, looking half-dead but still smirking like they’d just won the lottery, was Vi, the captain of Piltover University’s Women’s Hockey Team. You didn’t know her personally, but you knew of her—how could you not? Every gay girl within a twenty mile radius knew of her. She was hot. From her cocky grin to her colorful undercut, which always seemed to peek out from beneath her helmet, there was no doubt about it. 

But that wasn’t what made your breath catch. It was the way your chest tightened, how everything in the room seemed to quiet for a split second. 

Then the pain hit. 

You instinctively touched your ribs, feeling a sharp ache that hadn’t been there before. At the same time, Vi winced, her hand going to the exact same spot. Her gaze flickered toward you after searching the coffee shop, her blue eyes narrowing slightly, like she was trying to figure something out. 

You felt Caitlyn’s hand on your arm. “Oh my god,” she hissed. “It’s her, isn’t it?” 

“No!” You bit back, immediately averting your eyes. “No way.” 

If you don’t see her, she doesn’t exist. 

—-------------------------------------------

Vi was convinced she didn’t have a soulmate. 

She had no visible soulmate mark, no timer and—besides her own—no tattoo. She didn’t see in black and white, didn’t have a red string of fate. It didn’t make any sense, the only explanation being that she doesn’t have one. 

Her friend on the hockey team—Ellie—had suggested that maybe it was a feeling soulmate mark. Maybe she was supposed to feel sick when you got sick, or maybe she was supposed to feel hurt when she got hurt. But she never felt… anything. 

That is, until the migraines started. 

It had been two weeks of relentless, skull-splitting pain, and Vi was on the verge of losing her mind. She’d never been the type to care much about school, but even hockey practice was becoming unbearable. The bright lights of the rink made her head pound, and the noise of her teammates shouting felt like nails being driven into her skull. She didn’t dare tell Coach—she had enough to deal with trying to keep her captaincy without giving them a reason to bench her. 

But she couldn’t hide it from Ellie. 

“You’re rubbing your temples again,” Ellie said as she sprawled on the locker room bench, laving up her skates. “What, you suddenly got old-person headaches or something?”

Vi shot her a glare. “They’re migraines. And it’s not funny.” 

Ellie’s smirk faltered, replaced by a frown. “Okay, but, like… you don’t just start getting migraines out of nowhere. You stressed or something? Got some secret essays piling up that I don’t know about?” 

Vi let out a frustrated groan, dropping her helmet onto the bench with a clatter. “I don’t know, Ellie! It’s not stress, okay? They just came out of nowhere, and I can’t get rid of them. I’ve tried everything—water, sleep, painkillers—nothing works.” 

Ellie tilted her head, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. “Huh.” 

“What?” 

“Well…” Ellie dragged the word out as she tied a perfect knot. “You don’t think this could be, like… soulmate related, do you?”

Vi scoffed, folding her arms. “What? No. I don’t even have a soulmate.” 

Ellie gave her a pointed look. “You don’t know that. Just because you don’t have a mark or whatever doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. There are, like, a million different types of soulmate connections. Feeling someone else’s pain is totally one of them.” 

Vi blinked, the idea sinking in despite her best efforts to shrug it off. “So what? You think my soulmate is walking around with migraines 24/7? Who the hell stays up late enough or is dumb enough to dehydrate themselves this much?” 

Ellie grinned. “Exactly the kind of person you’d be soulmates with. You’re a trainwreck magnet.” 

Vi rolled her eyes, but the knot of worry in her chest didn’t go away. “Even if you’re right—which you’re not—I don’t know who it is. How am I supposed to fix this? Walk around asking random people if their head hurts every time mine does?” 

Ellie snickered. “You could start with that cute girl from the coffee shop. The one who was staring at you like you were some kind of mythical creature last week.” 

Vi stiffened. “What girl?” 

“You know. Black sweater, big eyes, looked like she wanted to crawl under the table when you caught her staring.” Ellie’s smirk widened. “She bolted so fast, I thought she might leave a cartoon dust cloud behind.” 

Vi groaned, her hands dragging down her face. “You’re impossible.” 

Ellie shrugged, grabbing her stick and standing up. “Hey, I’m just saying. You’ve got migraines, she looked like she was about to faint—sounds like a soulmate connection to me.” 

“Ellie, drop it.” 

“Fine, fine.” Ellie paused by the door, grinning back over her shoulder. “But if she shows up at your next game, you owe me a drink.” 

Vi glared after her, her headache suddenly feeling worse.

————————

Your day had started out pleasant. 

You woke up on time, didn’t have a splitting headache or a new bruise, and had your fresh and folded laundry waiting for you from the day before as you finally pulled yourself out of bed. Even Jayce and Caitlyn seemed to get the ‘good day’ memo—the two of them swinging by your apartment with coffee before the three of you headed off to class. 

It was nice, until it wasn’t. It all went downhill when the throbbing started. 

It wasn’t your usual soulmate-related ache—no split lip, no bruised knuckles, no sudden stab in your ribs. This was different. Familiar, but different no less. A dull, creeping pressure that started behind your eyes and spread through your skull like a slow wave. By the time your second lecture had started, it was unbearable. 

“Are you okay?” Caitlyn asked, leaning over from her seat. Her voice was low enough not to draw the professor’s attention, but the concern was evident. “You look pale.” 

You pressed your fingers to your temples, trying to will the pain away. “Migraines,” you muttered. “Really bad one.” 

Caitlyn frowned. “You went to bed early last night.” 

“Apparently, that doesn’t do anything for me anymore.”

You barely made it through the rest of the lecture. By the time you were packing up your things, Caitlyn was hovering like a worried mother hen. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to skip clinicals today? Jayce can take your rotation, you look like you’re about to pass out.” 

“No, I’m fine,” you insisted, though your voice lacked conviction. “I’ll just grab some water and take something for the pain.” 

Caitlyn didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push further as the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall. 

You thought you were doing a decent job of toughing it out until you practically walked right into Jayce in the hallway as he excited his pathophysiology lecture. 

“Whoa, you good?” he asked, steadying you when you stumbled slightly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“Migraines again,” you mumbled again, brushing him off. “I’m fine.” 

Jayce gave Caitlyn a questioning look, but she just shrugged. 

The rest of the day was a blur. The pain didn’t ease up—it never did until you went to sleep—and every bright light or loud noise seemed to stab through your skull. By the time you reached the coffee shop for your usual post-clinical ritual, you were barely holding it together. 

Caitlyn was mid-sentence when the door chimed. 

“Do you think it could be stress? Your migraines never used to be so bad—”

Her words trailed off, her expression shifting to one of disbelief. 

“What now?” you groaned, not bothering to look up. 

Caitlyn’s hand gripped your arm. “Don’t freak out, but she’s here.” 

“Who?” 

“Don’t be an idiot. You know who.” 

You blinked up at her, confused, before following her gaze toward the counter. 

There she was again—Vi. This time, she looked even rougher than before, with dark circles under her eyes and a visible bandage peeking out from under her sleeve. She had her fingers pressed to her temples as she leaned against the counter, waiting for her friend to finish ordering. 

And then it happened. 

Your headache, which had been a steady, unrelenting pressure all day, suddenly spiked. A sharp, blinding pain shot through your temples, and you let out a quiet gasp, clutching your head. 

Across the room, Vi froze, and her friend immediately snapped up. 

Her gaze hit yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The pain in your head mirrored the way her hand shot up to press against her temple, and her eyes widened in recognition. 

“Oh, no,” you whispered, panic setting in. 

Caitlyn’s eyes darted between you and Vi, her mouth falling open. “It’s her. It’s definitely her.” 

You scrambled to your feet, heart racing. “Nope. Not happening.” 

You bolted.  

“Hey! Y/N!” Caitlyn hissed after you, but you didn’t stop.  

The door slammed shut behind you, and the crisp evening air hit your face like a slap. Your heart was pounding, your migraine screaming in protest at your sudden movement, but the overwhelming panic drowned it out. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you had to get away. Far away.  

Unfortunately, the universe—or more specifically, Vi—had other plans.  

“Wait!”  

Her voice was rough, loud enough to cut through the noise of the street and send a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You didn’t look back, breaking into a full sprint.  

Behind you, you heard heavy, determined footsteps.  

“Oh, come on!” Vi groaned. “You’re really gonna make me chase you?”  

You didn’t answer, too focused on not tripping over your own feet. The ache in your legs spread quickly, your lungs burning as you pushed yourself harder.  

“Damn it,” you heard her mutter, closer this time. “You’re not even good at running!”  

“No one asked you!” you shouted over your shoulder, breathless and desperate.  

Vi let out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re serious? You’re yelling at me while running away?”  

“Yes!”  

She groaned, and her footsteps quickened. “You can’t outrun me, you know. You might as well stop before you pass out!”  

Her voice was closer now, and you risked a glance back. Bad idea.  

Vi was gaining fast, her long legs eating up the distance between you with ease. She wasn’t even winded. Meanwhile, you were gasping for air, feeling like your legs might give out any second.  

“Leave me alone!” you shouted, panic edging into your voice.  

“Can’t do that!” she called back, her tone surprisingly light for someone who was literally chasing you down. “You’re my soulmate, remember?”  

Those words sent a jolt through you, and you stumbled slightly, your pace faltering. That split-second mistake was all she needed.  

Vi caught up in a flash, one strong hand wrapping gently around your wrist as she slowed to a stop. You tried to pull away, but she held firm, her grip steady but not painful.  

“Let me go!” you gasped, twisting in her grasp.  

“Hey, hey!” Vi said quickly, holding up her free hand in a gesture of surrender. “Relax, okay? I’m not here to hurt you!”  

You glared up at her, chest heaving, and she met your gaze with an almost apologetic smile. Up close, she looked even rougher—dark circles under her eyes, a fresh cut on her lip, and that same bandage on her arm.  

“Look,” she said, her voice softer now. “I get it. This is… a lot. Trust me, I wasn’t expecting to meet you today either. But running away? Not the best idea.”  

“Why not?” you snapped, still trying to catch your breath.  

Vi smirked, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “Because I’m an elite athlete, so now you’re even more exhausted, and I’m still here.”  

You glared at her, unsure if you wanted to scream or cry. “What do you want from me?”  

She blinked, her expression softening. For a moment, she looked almost shy, which was wildly unfair given how confident she’d been five seconds ago.  

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, I didn’t even think I had a soulmate until, like, two weeks ago. And then today, bam, migraines, and here you are.”  

Yuo stared at her, dumfounded, and still too overwhelmed to make sense of her words. “That’s not an answer.”

Vi sighed, releasing your wrist but saying close enough that you couldn’t just bolt against. “Okay, fine. I guess I want to… figure this out. I mean, we’re soulmates, right? So maybe we could just… start there?” 

“Start there?” you repeated, incredulous. “You don’t even know me.”

“Exactly.” her lips curved into a small, lopsided smile. “Let’s change that.” 

You opened your mouth to argue, but the way she was looking at you—earnest, a little nervous, but stubborn enough not to let you push her away—made the words catch in your throat. 

Caitlyn’s voice rang in your mind: Whoever they are, they’re probably a masochist. 

Vi seemed to read your hesitation as a crack in the wall you’d been trying so hard to keep up. She tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes locking onto yours with unnerving intensity. 

“Look,” she said, her tone gentler now. “I’m not asking you to, like, fall into my arms or anything. I just want to get to know you. No pressure, no expectations. What do you say? Coffee after your next rotation? My treat.” 

You hesitated, your heart still racing. “Why should I trust you?” 

Her smile faltered, and for a split second, you saw something raw in her expression—something that made your chest tighten. She winced slightly, rubbing the back of her neck. “Honestly? I don’t know how much longer I can handle these migraines, so we need to find a cure or something.” 

That earned a startled laugh from you, despite yourself. “So, this is selfish.” 

“Totally,” she admitted, grinning now. “But if it gets me a chance to spend some time with you, I’ll take it.” 

You studied her for a long moment, torn between wariness and the tiniest flicker of curiosity. Finally, you sighed, crossing your arms. “Fine. One coffee. After my next rotation. That’s it.”

Vi’s grin widened, and for a moment, you were struck by how bright it was—how it softened the sharp edges of her features. “Deal.” 

As she stepped back to give you space, you realized something strange: your headache was already starting to fade. Grabbing a random business card from her pocket and a pen from another, she scribbled down her number and lightly shoved it into your hands. 

“See you around,” Vi said, giving you a little wave before turning and jogging off down the street. 

You watched her go, still unsure if you’d just made a huge mistake, or taken the first step toward something you couldn’t even begin to understand.

this is the first part in a three part series! read part 2 here! reader part 3 here!

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[snipphh]

an ellie drawing i did, i don’t really like this one i think her face looks weird but im SO PROUD OF THE COLORING also I didn’t make the background its the actual background from the scene i used in the game

[echo-riot]

Sevika/Ellie/Abby Valentine’s Day Headcanons

Warnings: Nothing, just fluff <3

Don’t ask why i created these before valentines day.

Sevika

• Sevika isn’t one for grand gestures or public displays of affection. She prefers a quiet, intimate evening with just the two of you. A dimly lit room, a bottle of expensive liquor, and her favorite jazz record playing softly in the background set the perfect mood.

• Sevika doesn’t do cheesy. Instead, she gifts you something practical but meaningful. Maybe it’s a piece of jewelry she noticed you eyeing weeks ago, or a custom-made weapon if you’re a fighter like her. She’ll hand it to you with a casual “Don’t make a big deal about it” but secretly loves seeing your reaction.

• Valentine’s Day in Zaun isn’t exactly safe, but Sevika makes sure no one bothers you. She’ll keep a hand on your lower back or her arm draped over your shoulder whenever you’re out together. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, they’ll regret it.

• If you’re lucky, Sevika might attempt to cook dinner for you. She’ll act confident, but halfway through, the kitchen might start to resemble a war zone. Even if it’s borderline inedible, you appreciate the effort, and she’ll grumble when you laugh at her frustration.

• Sevika’s love language is all about touch. On Valentine’s Day, she’s extra attentive, holding your hand, pulling you into her lap, and planting soft kisses on your temple. When she thinks no one is watching, she might even brush her fingers through your hair or kiss your knuckles.

• She loves unwinding with a good cigar and a card game, and Valentine’s Day is no exception. She’ll invite you to play, but the stakes will be playful—loser has to give the winner a kiss or let them choose the next activity.

• As much as she pretends she’s indifferent about Valentine’s Day, Sevika has a soft, romantic streak. She might surprise you with fresh flowers (smuggled in from Piltover), a handwritten note, or an old photograph of the two of you that she had framed.

• After a few drinks, Sevika lets her guard down. She’ll pull you close and murmur things she’d never say in the daylight—how much you mean to her, how she’d do anything to keep you safe, and how she can’t imagine life without you.

• The night ends with you curled up in her arms, her prosthetic resting on your waist as she traces lazy patterns on your skin. She’s at her most vulnerable here, holding you like you’re her anchor in the chaotic world of Zaun.

Ellie

• Ellie doesn’t make a huge deal out of Valentine’s Day but secretly looks forward to it, wanting to make you smile. She pretends it’s “just another day” but absolutely has a stash of plans up her sleeve.

• She’s not great with words, but she spends way too much time making you a card. It’s covered in silly doodles, random jokes, and a cheesy line like, “You’re the fungus to my Joel.” She gets embarrassed handing it over, muttering, “Don’t laugh, okay?”

• Since resources are limited, Ellie gets creative with her gift. She’ll leave little notes or arrows leading you to a hidden treasure she found or crafted, like a cool comic, a barely used book, or a mixtape she made with scraps of old music.

• All day, Ellie bombards you with goofy, Valentine-themed pickup lines. “Are you a clicker? Because you’ve got me clicking with you,” or “Are you immune too? Because you’re infecting my heart.” She cracks herself up more than you do.

• Instead of a quiet evening, Ellie plans an “adventure” date. It could be exploring an abandoned building to find cool trinkets, sledding on an old piece of scrap metal, or watching the stars together. She loves the thrill of doing something unique with you.

• Ellie insists on making you a meal, which might involve some questionable apocalypse cooking techniques. Burnt rations or an oddly cooked rabbit aside, you love the effort, and she playfully demands a “5-star review.”

• After dinner, she grabs her guitar and plays you a song. It’s something heartfelt but rough around the edges, and she might even mix in some silly lyrics to make you laugh. She’ll get flustered if you tell her how much you loved it.

• Ellie thrives on teasing you, especially on Valentine’s Day. She might jokingly challenge you to a snowball fight or wrestle you over who loves the other more. She grins ear to ear when you play along.

• Despite all the jokes and casual attitude, Ellie pours her heart into the day. She doesn’t always know how to express her feelings, but she makes sure you know how much you mean to her through small, meaningful gestures.

• At the end of the day, Ellie pulls you into a cozy spot, maybe by a campfire or under a worn blanket. She wraps her arms around you, rests her chin on your shoulder, and murmurs, “Happy Valentine’s Day, idiot,” in the softest, most loving voice.

Abby Anderson

• Abby isn’t the type for over-the-top romantic gestures, but she puts genuine thought into making the day special. She plans something meaningful and personal, knowing you’ll appreciate her effort more than flashy displays.

• Abby isn’t one to waste resources, so she makes you something by hand. Whether it’s carving a small trinket out of wood, sewing a patch onto your jacket, or crafting a bracelet from scavenged materials, it’s clear she put time and love into it.

• She’s an early riser and uses the quiet hours to set up a surprise for you. Maybe it’s breakfast (even if it’s just rationed eggs and stale bread) or a small bouquet of wildflowers she found during a patrol.

• Abby loves physical activity, so she might suggest spending the day doing something active together, like sparring, jogging along a scenic route, or even teaching you self-defense. She insists it’s romantic because “nothing says love like staying alive together.”

• Abby takes Valentine’s Day as an opportunity to remind you how deeply she cares. She’s more attentive than usual, always checking on you and subtly positioning herself between you and any potential danger during patrols or outings.

• If you’re not in the middle of a crisis, Abby will try to cook a special meal for you. She’ll be super focused, brows furrowed as she works, and will pretend not to care about your opinion—but she lights up when you compliment her cooking.

• Throughout the day, Abby shows her love through actions. She’ll sharpen your weapons, fix your gear, or give you an impromptu massage after a long day. It’s her way of saying, “I’ve got your back.”

• Abby isn’t the best with words, but she thrives in quiet, intimate moments. Sitting beside you, sharing stories, or just leaning against each other while watching the sunset makes her feel at peace.

• She’ll surprise you with small, cheesy gestures, like nervously handing you a clumsily written love note or trying to draw a heart on the dusty mirror of an old building. It’s rare, but when it happens, it melts your heart.

• Abby’s love language is physical touch. She spends the day holding your hand, pulling you into her lap, or giving you bear hugs that lift you off the ground. Her kisses are soft and lingering, and she’ll mutter, “You’re everything to me,” when no one else is around.

• As the day winds down, Abby makes sure you feel safe and loved. She’ll hold you close, fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back, and promise, “No matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you.”

[breathinlove]

thristy connection 4 ellie williams smau

synopsis: u and ellie meet thru ur friend on x/twitter.

cw: crack fic dont take it srsly, swearing n weed i think.

3 < 4

taglist: @vamp1reg1rrrl @sevyscoven @cinematicdilfs @r3starttt @firefly-ace @deadbolted @liasxeatt @ellieslittleslutt @hotwheels4hotgirls @saintdraven @iheartclairo66

[abbylvr69]

Abby the type to moan when she puts the strap in.

[vxsellie]

𓊈⟡𓊉 ┆FRAMED - E.W

⌞ artist!ellie x figure model!reader ⸝⸝ oneshot ⌝

synopsis ⌇ deliberate or not, there's a certain intimacy to seeing someone in a state of vulnerability. as an artist, there's an insatiable need to have a ceaseless sense of ingenuity. when ellie's creativity begins to run low, you're the tide that fills her back up. her muse.

wc ⌇ 2k

this place was ellie's oasis of solace—wooden flooring stained with drips of paint, the sound of brushes against canvases. it was all so gentle, so welcoming. and yet, it didn't effectuate her ingenuity. her mind was blank, canvas rendered a mirror to such nakedness.

there's a small glass table in the center of the room, atop it resides a bowl of fruits. she and the other artists are supposed to capture the image, immortalize the futility of the fruits' short lifespans. she does, though it's equally as pointless.

there's a large window that allows sunlight to drape over the scene like a blanket, painting the fruits in a hue of golden glow. she spends the next few hours encapsulating the picture. by the end, it looks good, great even. but it's not born from passion, it's from the necessity of having to create something. the obligation to do so rather than the personal desire to.

by the end of the class, she's frustrated and burnt out. she goes home with a permanent frown on her face—one that only alleviates when she enters the art studio the following day to see a robed woman in the center of the room.

your hair is undone, cascading lazily down your back. your legs are bare as you're propped up on a wooden stool, one leg bent as the other stretches out into a point. your face is rested, feathery lashes blinking dazedly as you look at the floor. it's the picturesque image of comfortable domesticity. the other artists silently paint you, capturing the moment in rough brushstrokes and harsh coloring. but ellie intends to do you far more justice than that.

she sets her back down by the door and props up her canvas. she holds a tray of paints on her left arm, dabbing her brush in the colors.

you remain perfectly still, only moving to blink or breathe. ellie studies you—the way the off-white robe hangs from your right shoulder, the way your lips are slighting parted, the way your sky glows under the sunrays.

her peers pack up and leave as they wish, untimed and unhurried. some of them spend hours painting you, others content with rough sketches. it's all up to the artist; whether they prefer inanimate or living objects, whether they like this gentle image, whether they're able to capture your gentility.

ellie deems everyone who rushes a fool. she sees nothing but perfection as she gazes at your relaxed state and soft skin. the robe is lazily draped over your figure, haphazard enough to accentuate the curvature of your body that resides beneath.

ellie spends hours painting you, determined to get every single attribute perfected.

everyone else has long since left, only the two of you in the room. the sun has set, leaving silver rays of moonlight to coat your skin rather than the golden she'd began with. it hardly matters, though. she's only got a few small details to finish up on.

by the time she's finished, she's sure you're sore from sitting on that stool for so long. as a model, you're expected to go hours without moving or eating. you're allowed food, the professor feeding you by hand as to not move your position. you're also permitted to use the bathroom, though it's rare that models do considering their lack of eating or drinking during sessions.

she has just began to wash her brush at the sink when your voice startles her.

"finished?" your tone is patient, which pairs wonderfully with your steady voice. it's melodic, like an enchanted lyre.

she casts a glance over her shoulder to see that you've yet to move. "hm? oh. yeah, yeah. i'm done, sorry."

"it's fine," you assure her as she turns back forward.

she can hear the rustling of your movements. your bare feet pad across the floor toward the door. she doesn't turn around, suddenly feeling awkward to have been rendered the last person here. she feels a bit guilty for having made you wait so long. the thought hadn't even crossed her mind. she was so caught up in her painting.

oh, it's been so long since she'd been that passionate. it felt good. like a warm bath after a day in the snow; like a soft bed after a long day of work. she'd almost forgotten the blissful pleasure of being in love with art, of being obsessed with a piece.

"this is..." your voice startles her for a second time as she begins to dry her hands on a plaid towel rested on the side of the metal sink. the faucet squeaks as she turns it off, holding the towel between her hands as she turns to you. her heart drops when she realizes what you're looking at.

"it-" her entire face is burning up. "it's not finished."

you look up at her, robe now tightly secured around your waist. you've put on a pair of sandals as well, look more like a human than an incomprehensible deity. you give her a soft smile. "i think it's beautiful."

you're standing in front of her canvas, everyone else's having been either taken with them or covered by a stained white sheet. ellie's painting has embodied you with long, gentle strokes and warm colors. it depicts you as an angel-like being. your face is outlined by a hue of white, the slope of your nose and line of your jaw outlined by serene sunlight.

still, she didn't exploit you or exaggerate any features. your body remains covered and your face remains calm, each feature portrayed perfectly. you've never seen yourself displayed in such a way.

ellie says nothing, unsure of what to say.

just as your hand begins to turn the doorknob and leave, you meet her eyes, gaze softened. "your work is stunning, you have a real talent."

and with that, you're gone.

the next few weeks are torture. she paints apples, bookshelves, trees. she even sits at the park and tries to draw strangers—an old lady feeding the pigeons, a young child laughing with her father. but nothing can revive the artistry that you'd brought to life in her. class is a bore, nothing piquing her interest.

each day she enters the studio, she finds herself yearning to see you within the room. to see you standing in the center of the circle of canvases. and yet, you remain unseen. a nameless figure of beauty, grace, and everything an artist could ever want.

weeks fade into months and she remains without inspiration. she's found herself enjoying landscape painting, though it's incomparable to you. the bark of trees remind her of your skin, winking stars remind her of your blinking lashes, flowing creeks remind her of your hair. but it's not the same.

finally, in late december, she enters the studio earlier than normal. only two other students are present as she removes her bag before gathering her paint, brush, and canvas. by the time she's set everything up, the object in the center has been presenting.

you.

you're completely nude this time around. your backside faces her, hands placed on your lower abdomen with your head turned over your shoulder. the sunlight caresses your side profile, illuminating your skin in that familiar glow.

as you'd priorly depicted domiciliary, you now embody beguiling allure. an air of confidence swarms you, dripping from your pores like honey. your hair is tied back, the soft skin of your neck on display.

the rest of the artists begin painting while ellie remains stilled, staring. she has to blink a few times to ground herself, to remind herself that she's here for a reason.

she begins painting, using cooler colors than she did last time. this way, hues of blues and purples encapsulate the enticing charm you withhold so casually. she spends time on your hair, trying to capture each frayed strand to show the looseness of the hair tie. she also finds herself enjoying the ability to stare at your body for so long without consequence.

the indent of your waist, the line of your spine, the plush of your thighs, the curve of your hips, the sphericity of your butt. she's able to look all she likes. she tweaks and tweaks and tweaks the image until it's nigh flawless. your eyes are downcast, though not in a shy manner. in an uncaring one.

she ends up being the last person in the studio. again.

this time, she doesn't care. she's not embarrassed to have been here past dusk. you don't seem to mind either, as you remain perfectly still without uttering a word. the moonlight bathes you in silver. this time, she purposefully painted you like this—under the moon's incandescence. hence the cooler colors.

"finished." ellie speaks into the air between you. your head lifts, eyes meeting her mossy green ones. the ghost of a smile tugs at your lips, causing her face to heat. she clears her throat awkwardly. "uh- you can come look. if you want."

your smile turns genuine. "i'd love to."

you walk across the room and ellie averts her gaze. which is rather odd considering she just spent all day memorizing your body. but, in her defense, she hadn't seen the front side. she looks away and you chuckle, standing beside her to eye the canvas.

"oh," you whisper, "this is fucking amazing."

she turns her head toward you, brows raised. "really?"

"yes." you confirm with a nod. "i meant it when i said you had a talent."

her heart swells at this. she hadn't known if you would have remembered her. it was fully possible that you'd forgotten. i mean, your conversation wasn't anything major. it'd began with a bit of small talk, then shifted to a compliment on her work. then she said nothing—which she, admittedly, has regretted ever since.

ellie's eyes bore into yours, her pupils blown in awe of seeing you up close like this. you're even more stunning in inch away. she can see every detail she'd missed. from the small indentations in your skin to the tell-tale sign of where you'd been biting your lower lip. and yet, ellie is convinced that these imperfections only make you more desirous.

you shift and her eyes are drawn to your bare chest. her breath hitches and she looks away, stripping off her winter coat and holding it out to you. your brow raises, genuinely confused for a second. but then you realize she's giving you clothes to cover yourself up with.

you can't help but laugh. "you just spent hours painting me."

"i know, just-" she thins her lips, looking up at the ceiling. "just take it."

you chuckle before taking the jacket from her and zipping it to cover your bare skin. she's amusing, you can't deny that. it's interesting, the way she seems like a prude despite having spent more time than anyone else studying your naked body. you give her a soft smile, "thanks."

her cheekbones are bright red as she tries to change the topic. "do you need a ride home?"

you have a car out in the parking lot. it's actually really nice and heats up super fast during the winter. and yet, something about her lowered voice makes the proposal impossible to refuse. with a small shrug, you respond, "if you're offering."

ellie smiles. "'course i am."

with that, the two of you head outside to the parking lot. and, this time, ellie is determined to get this right. to not render you a complete stranger who she'll never see again.

and, rather shockingly, she manages to pull it off. when she drops you off at your apartment building, she asks you for your number. she's stammering and blushing brighter than ever. but, by some miracle, you give it to her. and before leaving, you lean into the driver's side window and press a kiss to her cheek.

yeah, she's never getting over this.

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist @luvsturniolo @kasqnxx @xlovla @ilovewomenfr @zzombiegirl @shawangel @defnoteleonor @fatbootymuncher

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 fic taglist i forgot.. whoopsie!

[mwahbabe]

i live for this dynamic.

bad bitches get it.

can we get a glimpse of what it looked like when abby had to stop ellie spanking reader when she went too far? (yes i just want to see abby being protective and putting ellie in her place and what about it)

when abby had gotten to your home, she immediately was looking for you but only found ellie chugging down a glass of scotch.

“where is she?” abby asked, and ellie gestured to upstairs, the blonde taking her leave to your bedroom. she gently knocked, only to receive you yelling, “go away, ellie!”

abby opened the door, seeing you holding your teddy bear while curled up into a ball in the middle of your bed. “oh baby, what happened?” she asked, coming over to you and stroked the top of your head. “did ellie do something?”

“she—she spanked me really bad,” you managed to hiccup, tears and sniffles continuously coming out of you. “g—gave bad attitude… spanked me too hard and rough. i think it was because of her rings.”

“you’re okay baby, it’s okay,” abby cooed, rubbing your back. “i’ll go handle her, okay? just try to calm down and i’ll come right back to take care of you.” she got up from your bed, padding back down towards ellie. “ellie anna williams!”

“the fuck she say?” ellie asked, already peering up at the blonde. abby snatched the glass from ellie’s hand, slamming it down onto the coffee table as she then grabbed her face roughly to the point she could crack her teeth.

“you are never ever allowed to spank her like that again,” abby said, voice rough and deep, threatening and menacing. “you are not to spank her beyond seven slaps, and not while your rings are on. next time you do, i’ll have her watch you get spankings from me. do i make myself clear?”

ellie nearly trembled in abby’s hold, but nodded. “noted.”

[potchi-fics]

note: i've been really busy like really really busy. i have 6 tests in this week alone. and three major projects (about to be four)

      ever since you gave her that one date, ellie’s been all over you; it’s like she constantly needs to be with you—to touch you. and one day, erratum, night, she drove you home, you kissed her, and she pulled back with a grin on her face, and pulled you back in for a kiss.

yada, yada, yada, you guys fucked and she rocked your shit. literally. you both had to skip classes because you couldn’t feel your legs. since then, ellie williams’ has been pussy-whipped for you. 

along with hearing you beg.

 “ellie, for fuck–baby, please. put it in,” you’re lying on your back, legs spread, pussy clenching around the tip of her dick, whining and trying to ground yourself on her. “please, i need it in me, baby.”

ellie’s basking in the sight through half-lidded eyes, clicking her tongue and holding your wrist when she sees you about to grab the strap, “nuhuh, don’t be a bad girl,” she pushes an inch, biting her lower lip when she hears you whimper and your face contort into pleasure and relief, but that quickly fades away when she pulls back out, “or you won’t be gettin’ any of this dick, baby.”

     she continues to tease you by thrusting the tip, pulling out to rub it on your clit up and down, then slipping the head back in.

ellie is killing you.

just when you think she’s gonna bottom out, she doesn’t.

“ellie,” you practically sob out due to your understimulated cunt, “fuck me, please, please. just put it all in, i can handle it.”

she shushes you, murmuring words of comfort, slowly rubbing your clit, causing you to squirm, “i know you can take it, baby. i know your pussy can take it.” 

“please, just for you, i can take it. only for you–”

“only for me?” she bottoms out while whispering out to you, leaning down to kiss your cheek as your hand snaps back to her shoulder; the feeling of her dick finally filling your needy cunt makes your eyes roll and legs shake. 

her kisses trail from your cheek down to your neck, doing shallow thrusts, not even pulling out for an inch. but, even with those weak rolls, pleasure overtakes your mind, making you lose control.

you’re pathetic.

[ansrweoitt]

is there anything so undoing as a daughter?