Cosmo Jarvis - Blog Posts

violetcamryn

1 month ago

i love me a man with a fuck-ass moustache

Nasty

Elliot x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Elliot made it into Corps training, you're making him late to the announcement.

Warnings: Elliot's mean, tardiness, swearing, sex, smut, spitting, semi-established AU(which will be introduced soon), as always MC/Reader is Fat

A bite before: @glassbxttless is the one who wrote this if I'm being honest. She managed to take my jumbled ramblings and translate them over to this beautiful little morsel.

Elliot is mean as he thrusts into you. His pace unforgiving as a warm palm makes sure you take every single inch of him. His grip firm on that fat-swell-handful, using the leverage to keep you pinned down against that uncomfortably cool table. You’re already fucked out and he’s barely begun. You were running behind today, fucking Dorris was late coming to relieve you, and you knew there’s that stupid meeting— no one from OP1 can be a second late for. Including the soon-to-be corpsman who is spitting right where he’s pounding. The fingers on his other hand mean and messy against your clit, a smile bright on his features as he makes you cream around his cock.

“Fuckin’ told you, can’t be late to this.” Elliot’s thankful he’s got your wrists tied up behind your head and a fuckin rag from somewhere in this closet stuffed into your mouth. You’ve got those cute almost sparkly tears runnin’ down your cheeks and he knows that you’d be making those whiny sultry pleads to be able to cum already if your mouth wasn’t stuffed full.

It’s desperate and messy, you’re already fucked out, but you know this song and dance deep down. You’ve been fucking like rabbits (much to Mac’s dismay). You’re very aware of how this is gonna go. He can’t drag this out how he usually likes, how he’d have you ride his boot and then make you clean up the mess. Or how he’d like to bend you over the nearest surface, or maybe how he’d like to have you sit on his face and ride him till your hips are rolling hard and pressing down proper. If Elliot dies right now, he may as well be in Heaven— or as close as he’s going to get anyway. Usually getting you so close too many times until you’re crying for him— begging with those breathy, “fuck” “Elliot” “Please Sir”’s. Maybe he’d let you cum once or twice, just to watch the way you melt for him. Before— if it’s a good day, (he’s between shifts at the hospital, you’re free from the diner, and Mac’s outta the apartment)— he starts it all over again.

You’re whining loud, muffled through the makeshift gag— but he still catches it.— Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze, when you realize how loud you’re being. His thrusts even paced and not slowing down a bit. He’s watching the way your pupils are blown wide and trying not to roll back in your head. A satisfied smirk graces his features and a bead of sweat was rolling down his temple. Elliot is almost concerned with the volume, the wet slap of skin on skin as he’s pounding away, not subtle even in the slightest. If it weren’t for the rows and rows of stacked shelves between the two of you and the door, he’d bring himself to care more. If anyone were to walk in, they’d know exactly what you were up to if they dared to venture a few feet back.

“Gonna fuckin’ pay for that, sweetheart.” He catches the way your manicured fingers flex and tense at his threat.

You’re close.

He savors the way you take him before he’s stopping, burying himself to the hilt in your greedy cunt. You can feel every fucking inch, and the way the hair at the base of his dick is pressing against your clit makes your eyes roll back in your head. You were so fucking close to the finish line, and the pause in his ministrations has you falling back from the edge of bliss. If Elliot’s hand wasn’t keeping you pinned down, you’d be sat with your arms thrown around his neck, pleading with him to let you cum, that you’d do absolutely anything. His hand abandons your soon-to-be-bruised flesh on your belly to keep you pinned down, hand pressed right to the center of your chest. He leans over slightly, bending you just that little bit more.

Your leg is hooked around his very much still clothed shoulders. You’re trying to grind down— just begging him to let you cum with nothing but your eyes. But unfortunately for you, Elliot is unforgiving. His hands slam down against the table next to your head. He’s not giving you an inch, he’s keeping you exactly where he wants you— unmoved and compliant for him. A bead of sweat rolls down his face, dripping off the tip of his nose. He follows where it lands below him, splashing against your skin. And he catches the way your dress is pinned between you— your tits nearly falling out of the top. They were barely contained in the dress you had worn during the ceremony, you were Mac’s little sister after all; you’d been allowed to tag along as family. Elliot getting to use you as his own personal fleshlight after is just a fortunate perk.

“No fuckin’ bra, I knew it.” It doesn’t take much effort on his part to have your tits spilling out. Just a barely there tug, he lifts himself up just a bit to watch them run over as he does. He gives a mean pinch to your nipple, before he’s grabbing a hefty handful to give it a good shake. Entranced as he watches the way your tits jiggle, the way you’re so fuckin’ soft under his hands.

“Eyes up, sweetheart.” Your head tips forward from where it had been thrown back. You clench around him when your eyes meet— and he can tell it wasn’t on purpose. “You don’t get to cum. Maybe after this fuckin’ meeting that—“ he draws his hips back slowly, laying out the ground rules for the night ahead. “We’re going to be late getting to.” The sentence is punctuated by a hard thrust, burying himself right back up to the base of his cock. He’s close, so damn close, and he’d mad that despite the fact he’s had you in just about every position he can think of, you can still milk him dry in no time at all.

You both are so wrapped up in one another, that you don’t hear Erik’s voice calling out for Elliot. Needing to check in before this shit really gets going, having to track his ass down which is very unlike him. No, Elliot is just cumming his brains out in Mac’s little sister’s guts, not catching his CO calling for him. He doesn’t hear the way Erik— who’s already been on a few tours— gasps at the sight before him. It’s sinful, the way Elliot’s got your ankles held (with one hand as he uses the other to zip up his trousers.) He can catch the way his cum leaks from between your well fucked thighs.

It takes a lot to get him riled up. He knows he shouldn’t be seeing this. He knows he definitely shouldn’t be this hard at walking in on Elliot in this kind of fucked up situation. Involving you, Mac’s little sister, of all people. But here he is, blush creeping up his neck and sweat starting to drip down his back.

Oh, Erik's in for it now.

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