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Ellie doesn’t take shit anymore. All of your back talk, bad mouthing, and the one thing she hated the most. Your flirting. You’d go around, kick rocks with the ugly neighbor, and then go wink at Cat as she walked past.

What the fuck? Was Ellie invisible or something? She definitely felt like it. You’d do it straight in her face and prance off like bambi in the woods with that stupid smile on your face.

If having to pound you into her dirty mattress would be effective then she’d do it. Hell, she’d take you outside and fuck you into the dirt if she wants. But, she has a little more self respect than that. Just a bit.

Her back was starting to hurt. You’ve both been at this for a while. One of Ellie’s ragged hands wrapped around your throat applying soft pressure while her pelvis hit the skin of your ass as hard as she possibly could.

Your knees digging into the bed sheets below. Ellie’s too. though, her frame a few inches larger than yours from behind. She’s fucking that pink strap into your cunt as deep as she could.

The pink color disappeared to only come back out with white cream circled at the bottom. A nice ring she’ll make you clean later.

Nothing would get her to stop. Not even your shitty pleas. “Mmn.. f..fuck. Ellie.. please.” “Shut the fuck up.” And you do. You don’t want to piss her off anymore than she already is.

The base of the strap rubbed against her own clit. Getting off to this just as much as you were. It made her hot in the head. Messy strands of brown hair sticking to her forehead. Making Ellie look hotter than she already does.

Grunts and groans coming from her with each hard thrust forward of her hips. Her fingers tightening around the skin of your throat. Her pointer finger sliding up and down the bone she felt there. It made you cringe.

“I should pull out. Make you eat my pussy and keep you needy.” And, yeah. She really was thinking about it. Why did you deserve to cum?

“Yeah.. fuck you.” She unwrapped her hand from your throat to push you down to the bed. Flat on your stomach. So fast you swear you got whiplash.

She pulled out of your sopping cunt. Unbuckling the strap to toss it to the side. “Make me cum, bitch.”

I want an older woman to slide her strap in me while I’m sleeping and then when I wake up say “shhh it’s just a dream sweetheart” while she fucks me dumb

the red light of the camera blinked, a tiny, hungry eye in the dim hotel room. it was aimed at the bed, at the chaos of sheets and the sprawl of limbs in the center of it. at billie.

“fuck,” she breathed, the sound half-gasp, half-whine. her back was arched, a perfect, desperate bow, pushing her tits up towards the ceiling. they bounced with every sharp thrust of your hips, a mesmerizing rhythm you were capturing forever. “look at ‘em. are you gettin’ how good they look right now?”

you angled your phone down slightly, panning from her face, scrunched up in pleasure, to her chest. the screen was a perfect, glossy window to her debasement. her nipples were tight, dusky peaks, begging for a mouth that wasn’t there. “i’m getting it,” you murmured, your voice a low, steady counterpoint to her frantic whimpers. “i’m getting everything.”

she preened under the attention of the lens, even as her body was completely subject to yours. it was a delicious contradiction, the core of what made her so addictive. she’d flex her arms, a show of strength that was utterly betrayed by the way her pussy clenched around you, slick and welcoming. “you gonna watch this later?” she asked, a sly, fucked-out grin stretching her lips. “gonna watch me when you’re all alone and remember how i fuck you?”

“i’m going to watch it and remember how i fucked you,” you corrected, punctuating the statement with a particularly deep roll of your hips. the sound she made was somewhere between a sob and a moan, her head falling back against the pillows, her throat a long, vulnerable column. the chain of her necklace glittered there, catching the light.

“god, yes,” she agreed, no longer able to manage her teasing braggadocio. her hands, which had been flexing on your biceps, flew to her own breasts. she cupped them, squeezing them together for the camera, presenting them like an offering. “play with my nipples,” she demanded, but it came out a plea. “please? pinch ‘em. make it hurt.”

you set the phone on the nightstand, propping it against the lamp for a stable, wide shot. the frame was perfect: her entire body, yours moving above her, the slick sheen of sweat on your skin. freeing your hands, you leaned over her, the strap shifting inside her and drawing a fresh cry. you did as she asked, your fingers finding her sensitive peaks and rolling them, pinching hard.

her reaction was instantaneous. her whole body jolted, legs tightening around your waist, pulling you deeper. “fuck! fuck, fuck, fuck—” the chant was a prayer, a litany to the pleasure-pain you were administering. her hips began to move in earnest, meeting your thrusts with a frantic, sloppy rhythm. she was trying to take control, to set the pace, but it was a losing battle. every grind of her hips was just a plea for more, a surrender in a different form.

“you’re so fucking desperate for it,” you whispered against her jaw, your teeth scraping the skin there. her whole body shuddered, a silent acknowledgment. “look at you. putting on a show for the camera, but really, you’re just a mess for me, aren’t you?”

she couldn’t answer. she just shook her head, a denial that was a confession. her tits were still pushed up between your bodies, soft and pliant against your chest. she was trying so hard to be the one in charge, the one with the power, flexing and showing off and demanding what she wanted. but with every stroke of the strap, every cruel twist of your fingers, she was proving the opposite. her body was yours. her pleasure was yours. the video you were making was yours.

“say it,” you commanded, your hips snapping forward, hard and fast. “tell the camera who’s fucking you.”

her eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused, trying to find the little red light. she licked her swollen lips. “you are,” she breathed, the words cracking. “you are.”

“and whose tits are these?” you squeezed one for emphasis.

a whine escaped her throat, high and broken. “yours.”

“whose messy little pussy is this?”

she whimpered, grinding against you, chasing her release. “yours. god, it’s yours.”

“good girl.” you reached over, picked up the phone, and brought it in close, right to her face. “now, look at the camera,” you said, your voice soft but absolute. “and show me what it looks like when my cock makes you cum.”

her entire body locked. for a single, suspended second, she was a statue caught in the headlights of your phone’s lens. her pupils swallowed the blue of her irises, a wide, black abyss of pure sensation. the muscles in her neck stood out like cords as her head tipped back, a silent scream caught in her throat. then, the dam broke.

a choked sob wrenched its way out of her, raw and unrestrained. “gonna— gonna—” she managed to gasp before the words dissolved into a high-pitched keen. her body convulsed, a violent shudder starting in her core and radiating outwards. her thighs clamped around your waist like a vise, her heels digging into your ass, pulling you impossibly deeper as if she could fuse you into one being. her tits, still pressed between you, shook with the force of her orgasm, a frantic, final jiggle for the camera. the slick, wet sounds of the strap driving through her clenching heat were louder than her cries now, a percussive rhythm to her undoing.

you kept your phone steady, a merciless documentarian, capturing the flutter of her eyelids, the tear that escaped and tracked a path through the sheen of sweat on her temple, the way her jaw went slack with utter abandon. you didn’t stop moving, giving her no quarter, drawing out the pleasure until it was an agony.

“still looking,” you prompted, your voice a dark murmur. “give them more.”

she seemed to hear you through the fog of her orgasm, a flicker of awareness in her dazed eyes. with a monumental effort, she focused back on the lens. a fresh wave of heat washed over her face, a deep blush at being so seen, so recorded, so completely owned. her breath hitched. she tried to speak, to form one last, witty, defiant retort, but all that came out was a broken, breathy, “oh, fuck.”

her body went limp then, a complete and total surrender. she sank back into the mattress, boneless and spent, her limbs falling away from you. the only movement was the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the occasional, full-body shudder that traced the ghost of her orgasm. you held the camera on her for a long moment, capturing the aftermath: the blissed-out expression, the swollen lips, the tousled dark hair spread across the pillow like a halo. a perfect, ruined masterpiece.

finally, you stopped the recording. the red light vanished, plunging the room into a deeper, more intimate gloom. you tossed the phone onto the bed beside her, the soft thud startling a whimper from her.

she blinked slowly, turning her head to look at you. the bravado was gone, evaporated in the heat of her release. all that was left was a soft, pliant need. her tongue darted out to wet her lips again. “did you get it?” she whispered, her voice raspy.

you leaned down, pressing a soft, almost chaste kiss to her shoulder. “i got it all.”

a slow, lazy smile spread across her face. “good,” she murmured, her eyes drifting shut. “now show me.”

you didn’t move, letting the silence settle, thick and heavy as the humid air in the room. her breath was the only metric of time, a slow, even rhythm that gradually calmed from the frantic panting of moments before. after a long minute, her eyelids fluttered open, the blue of her irises soft in the gloom, hazy and unfocused like the aftermath of a storm.

“show me,” she repeated, the request a bare whisper now, stripped of all demand. it was a plea, a vulnerability she only showed you in these quiet moments after the tempest had passed.

you smiled, a slow, private curve of your lips. you reached for the phone, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. you lay down beside her, propping yourself up on an elbow, and shifted the screen so it was between you. your thumb found the playback button.

the world shrank to the six-inch rectangle. the video started with a slight jostle, your hands finding the perfect angle. and then there she was. on screen, billie’s head tipped back, a perfect column of throat presented to the camera as you entered her. a small, sharp gasp echoed from the phone’s speaker, a ghost of the sound you’d just heard live.

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Jealous!Nancy wheeler x desperate!fem-reader, mentions of Robin Buckley x fem-reader

Everything is exaggerating for the sake of the story. (Credit for the idea: @camelliaflow3r )

Warnings: use of strap-ons, toxic relationship, mean Nancy, manipulation, finger sucking, finger fucking, cheating (Nancy), controlling behaviour, dubious consent at first, choking, name-calling, hurt no comfort.

————

She notices you again by accident, or maybe not. Laughing too freely and too close to Robin Buckley- alive in a way she never saw when it was just the two of you. It’s enough to make her blood run hot and a dangerous idea take root. You think you’ve moved on. She’s about to remind you that you never really could.

Youre mine--Stalker!Sev x reader

Warnings: dub con, strap on sex, stalker!sev, dom!sev, rough sex, oral(r!receiving), praise, degradation, reader is a stripper, markings(r! receiving), strap being called a dick, cock, porn with mini plot, mentions of murder, etc. lmk if i missed anything. MDNI.

⭑.ᐟ plutos piece : this is a darker one, please dont read it if you are not comfy. i'm on my period and am writing a new Sevika fanfic with almost the same premise so lets call this a trial run, yeah? As always any interaction is appreciated ! this could suck, idk, someone save me from evil cramps. Not proofread, pls its 11pm.

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Sevika had been so patient with you, so understanding of the idiocy you called a "job". That "job" that had losers throwing crumpled up bills at you and calling it payment for the movements that were supposed to belong to her and her alone.

Was she your girlfriend? No. Did you know of her feelings for you? Maybe. But none of that mattered now.

You had been idling in the back of the club, nursing a drink that matched the color of your outfit, swirling the thin black straw with the tip of your nail. Most, if not all, of the other dancers were ready to go home, pulling off the skin tight and revealing costumes in favor of something casual and less eye-catching.

"Time to go sweetheart." Your favorite bouncer--Ronnie--fussed, his strong arms pulling you off the bar stool. You werent drunk, just depressed. As most things in the club go, a customer was a bit too handsy; pulling your costume to the side revealing places he shouldnt have, begging for things you werent going to ever give him.

The bouncers were quick to put him back in his place, but his scent still remained for most of the night. A sad mixture of alcohol, already smoked cigarettes and that stale smell of overworked body. You wanted to throw up from simply remembering it.

You thought you would be able to handle it yourself, tell him off maybe, instead you stood there shocked. There was a crack in your armor, and it was going to haunt you until you repaired it.

"Need me to walk you home?" Ronnie, always the gentleman walked you out of the club, one arm slung lazily around your shoulder in quiet comfort. "Nah, Im good. Night Ronron." You waved him a sweet goodbye as you started the walk home, dance bag slung over your shoulder and your headphones placed lazily in your ear.

It was the dead of night, no one on the streets, just you and the low buzz of the street lamps--and that person who loves to follow you. You were well aware of Sevika, its not like she ever shrunk herself, no she enjoyed this game you played.

You hear the deep hum of her old pickup following you, the deep red color fading into a rusty brown. She did this often, followed you home after you left the club, not close enough that it would be obvious to anyone but you.

You never truly cared, she was far from harmless but at least she was protective in a way that made you feel some fucked up sense of peace. "You need a ride gorgeous?" Her voice sounded raspy from all those cigarettes she loved to smoke, and yet it dripped sweet like honey. The truck pulled to a stop next to you, her head leaning out slightly.

"Oh, my stalker speaks." You stop and smile up at her, silently debating whether or not to hop into the strangers car. "I do a lot more than that darling." She pops the car door open, hopping out to grab your bag, tossing into the bed of the trunk.

You never agreed to go on this long drive past your apartment with Sevika, though you didnt protest. You needed something--someone--to take your mind off the strange man from the club.

So here you were making out with Sev on the side of some dirt road with only a singular street lamp illuminating the sinful act she wanted to commit. You follow her to the bed of her truck, her arms wrap under you placing you down bridal style into the metal backing.

Once she crawls in you pounce on her, sitting yourself hastily on her lap before devouring her lips as if they were your own. All you wanted was a simple kiss, to feel human again, to feel in control of something.

When the kiss grows hungrier and she starts pulling at your sweatpants, and her rough tongue slides clumsily against your teeth you try to pull away, yet her strong arms keep you stuck. "Hey--" It comes out in choked gasps as she finds her way to your neck, sucking reddish-purple marks into your skin. "Shut up."

Your heartbeat rises, hands gripping her broad shoulders. "You looked so pretty tonight, couldnt wait to have you." She moans into your neck large hand gripping your breast so tightly you let yourself squeal.

Her hands flick at your nipples, both of her calloused hands cupping the flesh of your tits, working them over like balls of dough. You're trying hard not to let her know how much you're enjoying the feeling, covering your mouth with the back of your hand like she hasnt watched you play with your pussy before this.

It wasnt like she was your first stalker, the hottest sure, but definitely not the first. She was just bolder about everything she did, when she watched you she made sure her presence was known; a bouquet of flowers with a note tucked into them, a new pair of pleasers when yours started to look a little worse for wear, following you home late at night like a threat to anyone who dared try to touch you.

You knew Sevika and she knew you.

In an instant youre on your back, her hands drag off the cotton material of your sweatpants, tossing them over the side of the truck. The cold metal of the trunks bed is the only thing keeping you grounded. Your black tank top is pulled down messily as your boobs spill out of it, your zip up hoodie still clinging to your arms and now your ass is bare touching the unforgiving steel.

The cool night air hits your drooling cunt and she groans at the sight of your bare hole clenching around nothing. "Wheres your pretty panties bunny?" She says it so sweet, like she isnt your stalker and she isnt currently living out her grossest fantasy on your body.

"Y-you took them." Your hands clap themselves over your eyes, embarrassment running across your cheeks. "Just wanted to hear you say it." She moans as her head ducks to lap at your clit. She sucks at your clit wildly like shes never tasted anything as sweet as you before, letting globs of her spit mix with your juices swirling her tongue in the mixture before using it as lube to dart her tongue into your hole.

The sensation is sending hot waves of pleasure through your body and you try to close your legs, hide yourself from the disgraceful act that youre apart of. Her hands catch your thighs before they could fully close around her head, her head not even coming up to suck air into her lungs.

She's devouring you like second nature, like shes a starving man and youre the first morsel of food to touch her tongue in decades. You roll your hips to give yourself some relief from her assault on your bundle of nerves, her teeth sliding over it and catching slightly.

Just as youre about to come undone she moves, popping off your swollen num with a shameful pop. Shes kneeling in front of you as you sit up on your forearms, staring at her with those pleading deer eyes for her to take you home, to stop this.

But is that really what you want?

You hear the tell-tale sound of a zipper opening and watch as the skin colored strap slips from inside of it, thick and veiny, a ridiculous size youre sure will be too much for you. "No-that thing is t-to big." Your eyes blown wide, lip caught between your two rows of teeth.

"You can take it bunny, I'll make sure of it." You dont know what you were expecting, maybe for her to slowly put it in you like you were some kind of virgin, instead shes bullying the tip of the silicone dick inside of your tight entrance.

You hiss at the pain, "Fuck--slow down." you huff at her, pouting as she grips your hips harder. Her hand dips into your mouth, sliding her fingers along your tongue as they push a little too far back, you gag on her fingers. Her hand tastes of your pussy juices and the leather of her steering wheel, not offensive, just interesting.

She rubs your spit over the entirety of her strap, coating it until the silicone is shiny and slightly dripping.

The night air is alive with the sounds of nature wrapping around your sweet whimpers and moans as Sevika drills the rest of her length inside you, pushing in slowly until she reaches the base of the thick strap. Shes such an asshole.

She doesnt give you any time to adjust, too impatient, too excited. She snaps her hips as her hands grip your waist matching her harsh thrusts. The dick is filling you up, keeping you stuffed as a reminder of her perverted love.

Your hands are shooting wildly for something to hold onto as she keeps going, keeps her brutal pace nice and rough, just for you. "It was so hard not to fucking kill that asshole tonight." She speeds up as if taking her anger at him out on you, "Shouldve slit his fucking throat for touching you baby, you would like that wouldnt you?" She's slumping forward on top of you, rutting quickly as the head of her cock kisses your cervix.

You let a mewl that tries to be "Nuh-No." but fails miserably as it falls from your lips. The feeling is too much, your eyes rolling to the back of your head against your will.

"He touched you, he touched whats mine." Shes saying this more so to herself, sweat matting her hair against her forehead. "So--so close." The words fall lazily out of your kiss-plump lips, drool sliding out with them. She fucks you so good, and the thought of your stalker ruining you in some far off place is doing wonders for your cunt.

"You're mine, fuck, all mine." You clench and she hisses, the suction of the action creating the right amount of friction. She cant cum here, she has to wait, she refuses to lose it all now.

But you look so cute under her, face tear stained and your once beautiful makeup now a streaky mess, youre shivering at every snap of her hips, every thrust making your body jerk wildly. She's certain that if she wasnt holding you in place you would arch until your spine snapped.

Shes looking at you with little hearts in her eyes, like this is what shes been waiting for, and it is. "Wish I could get you pregnant, keep you outta that shit hole forever." Shes thrusting into you so hard your vision is going white and you swear you can hear wedding bells. "Gonna cum, cant take it."

Her hand lets go of your waist, leaving behind the evidence of it being there in the form of a multiple crescent shaped nail marks. "Cum for me bunny." She moans as her two fingers swipe rapidly at your abused clit.

The sensation ruins you, cum coating the length of her cock, the base taking the grunt of the mess. Still, as your heart flutters and your cunt copies, while your chest rises and falls, she fucks you through it, slow and rough as she pulls the rest of your orgasm out of your body.

As the aftershocks subside and your back to breathing normally--her strap still lovingly nestled inside of you--she looks down on you and smiles. It's a smile that says shes not not done with you yet, but you dont care. Youre sleepy and your devotee seems to be enjoying herself, somehow she had time to fish her phone from out of her pocket, snapping pornographic pictures of your spent form, stuffed with her cock.

After shes taken about a 100 different pictures of you, she pulls out quickly the feeling of cunt going from full to empty pulls a small cry from you. Sev's back in the front of her truck, driving slow down the dirt road. "Where the fuck--?" Youre too tired to sit up, so you take to looking at the starry sky as the car rocks and shakes.

It lasts all of 5 minutes before she parks, opens the trunk and pulls you out bridal style. You rest your head against her shoulder, your rate slow and no anxiety biting at you. You feel at little more at ease, a little at peace as you watch her walk you to the house. "Is this your house?" You ask and she smiles down at you, "No, its our new home."

You smile back at her wide and grateful. No ones ever bought you a house before.