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joelsgoldrush · 3 months ago

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“give me all of that ultraviolence” | 2k

logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ implied age gap. dirty talk. kind of inexperienced reader. oral sex (m receiving). face fucking. dom!logan. a tiny bit of degradation. he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!

It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.

“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”

“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”

His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”

“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”

“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”

From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.

At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.

Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs.

You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.

That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.

“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”

You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”

“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big.

You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.

He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”

One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.

“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”

“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you’ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”

“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”

Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”

You’re more than happy to comply.

Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.

“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”

With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”

You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.

After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”

Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”

His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”

You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.

He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”

You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”

His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

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dawnwriterimagines · 4 months ago

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The Guilty Plea

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 x FEM!READER

Traitors Among Us (Part 1) and Innocents Among You (Part 2)

Verdict Due (Part 4) Clear Skies (Part 5)

Summary: As you're discharged from the infirmary, under watchful eye, you head to Laswell to talk on the rest of your now ruined military career. Of course, you're forced to confront your team as it happens, the last people on earth you'd like to see.

If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?

---

Running your fingers along the raised, pink scar across you cheek, the feeling of it...it really looked terrible. A part of you thought it would disappear, hoped it would, but it didn't. It just became severely more noticeable. Looking at this, you knew you'd always have to think of it. You'd sport this reminder for the rest of your life.

Looking away from it, you find your own tired eyes in the mirror, you haven't been sleeping well. Or at all. You can't remember the last time you got 4 hours, let alone 8. Dark circles still surrounded them but at least the bruising and the swelling had gone down.

You couldn't recognize yourself. Not really.

This woman looked so exhausted, so frail and so goddamn angry. It was accurate, it was how you felt. All of it. So, you supposed that the mirror's reflection was the truth, this was you indeed.

"If you need another day or two, no one will ask questions."

You glance over towards your psychologist, your fucking therapist, a nice little 'gift' sent over by the bureau to check in on your mental state after your ordeal. Glaring at him through the reflection of your mirror, he sighs, putting down his pen that slaps against his notepad, "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"I'm going to Laswell." Ignoring his statement, you speak. "I'm ready. I'll pack up. Get back to base. Vera had me discharged from the infirmary. I can start ov--"

"Vera?"

"My nurse. You met her," you continued, annoyance spiking at the interruption. Your wrist brace squeaking quietly under the pressure of your fist tightening beneath the table.

"Right..."

"Do you listen to a word I say outside of...my 'trauma'?" You wonder, bluntly.

Your psychologist blinks, surprised, before clearing his throat, appalled. "If you feel I can be more attentive to your state of well-being throughout our process, than by all means--"

"Oh, so 'no'?" you lean back into your seat, a strained laugh leaving you. His lips press together and you continue before he can find the words. "Because whenever I mention leaving this fucking team, you either adjust our schedule for another two weeks or suggest hypnotic therapy, as if I need anyone else digging around to fuck up my mental state."

"I never meant to imply--"

"Oh, you implied it," you interrupted, gritting your teeth. "I know what I want. And I want off Task Force 141."

He taps at the leather of his notebook. "Scars heal, just remember that, Ms. (L/n). The reminders of your experience shouldn't have to haunt you."

"It's not the scars, I've had my share way before this," you admitted, rising to your feet. You exhale deeply that tells to the effort of it, the steel gear hinges along your leg braces shift with your change of position. Still getting use to them. "It's the person."

"Has she changed, you think?" the psychologist begins to write, getting somewhere.

"She doesn't exist anymore."

Finally, placing the mirror down and onto the side table, you pushed off of the table, rolling your IV pole along with you. Passing the chair your psychologist sits on, he closes his notebook with a frustrated huff, looking over his shoulder. "Session over for you already, Ms. (L/n)?" he sighs. "We've still got the hour."

"I'm done," you take the knob in your hand. Turning.

In more ways than one.

"You understand that, informing your captain on your leave is required of you. Have you spoken to any of them, in the last few weeks?" he spoke up, quickly. "I'm sure giving them a space to open up, share from their view--"

"Why should I care--"

"--will give you better understanding, better clarity of the situation they were in--

Appalled. "What the fuck?" Jamming the door closed with a loud, shuttering thud, you whip around. "IT'S NOT ABOUT THEM!" you could just rip your hair out. "Who--who says that to someone?!"

Your psychologist sits there, eyes wide in confusion. "What--"

"Christ, can you hear me? Can you--can you see me? I've got metal plates in my spine, braces holding my knees in place and nerve damage that'll never heal! Who gives a fuck about them!" your skin feels red hot, your face twisted in rage. "I gave my life! My life to this! And then I'm tortured, I'm threatened, drugged and beaten by my own team, my f--my family for eight fucking years..."

You continue with a heavy chest. "And I'm supposed to invite them for dinner to talk and listen them bitch and moan about why they thought it was necessary to beat me to death for two weeks?! Fuck you!" you spat. "I don't owe them anything!"

"That's not what I was trying to say, Ms. (L/N). I apologize, I overstepped. Come sit down--"

"Of course you meant it," you interrupted, mock humor. "Don't be a pussy, own up to it. Revel in your truth. Be tter yet--" you snatch a journal from the cabinet. Tossing it his way. "Make a note of it."

Turning the knob, you leave the room with a slam of the metal door.

---

You were officially famous. On the base, you were now a legend.

A story that would be mentioned and told at lunch for months. Probably years.

First, you were a rat. Next, you were innocent. This was the most gossip any of those in service had ever seen in their years of service.

An interesting reminder to those in service that you weren't safe off duty either.

You learned a few days ago that there was an update put into the interrogational unit, something about how to properly go about dissecting evidence and being on the lookout for enemy spies in the militia.

You guessed you had been told about it in an effort to be appeased by the thought that the head of control paid attention to anything beyond their own noses for once. But, you had little to no faith in a system that's nearly killed you on and off the field by now, so it didn't matter.

You doubted the new rules would be followed though, there was a plethora of things they'd done to you in that cell that were both illegal and unsanctioned. Most of all, that were expected towards an enemy, a prisoner of war at best, and not a fellow marine.

You arrive at the housing quarters, swiping your key card, pulling the handle and entering the wing. Immediately, you're greeted by a dozen eyes, conversations stopping short and clothes ruffling to silence, suddenly whispers fill the space and eyes turn away.

"Oh, god, it's her..." says one man in the far corner.

"Shut the fuck up, man!" came a harsh whisper back.

"I didn't know it was that bad..."

All those eyes on you, makes you pause in your step, looking around at all of your fellow soldiers, the men and women you've served with for years. Many you recognized, ate with, fought beside that turned their backs to you now. Out of respect? Out of distaste, morale, nerves, pity, it all didn't matter. It all felt the same.

The wheels attached to your IV pole suddenly sounded much too loud on the polished flooring, as you walked down the hall as fast as you were able to.

Breathing out deeply, you get to an elevator, pushing on the button, once, twice, three times, just open goddamn it.

With a ding, the metal doors open, and suddenly you're aware that people could be in the elevator, they could be in this elevator, he could be in this elevator. Your eyes flicker down to the floor, your grip on the pole of your iv tightens, your shoulders stiffen, waiting for a blow that will never come.

You stand there as the doors open up, the small space empty, the metal walls reflect only her and a streak of lighting from the ceiling.

Looking up slowly, finally taking a breath, before sliding the iv up and onto the elevator, following it as you press your floor number along the way.

The ride up is fast, a little rumble as it stops, and then the doors open. Faster than you were prepared for.

Peeking out down the hallway, luckily no one to bump into, which you were thankful for. But, it didn't make this hall any less haunting. You'd been cornered in this same hall, you could recall being hauled out of the room after the solid handle of a knife hits your temple.

You don't go down fast enough, whipping around as you stumble to take the wrist of your attacker, mostly for balance, it's Price. In shock, you're unprepared as Johnny's arm encircle your neck, locking you into position as you both stumble backwards onto the floor. He blocks your airways, hushing you harshly as you struggle, feet kicking out and your vision blurring as your team surrounds you. Your family.

That was quite the headache to wakeup with afterwards.

You hadn't quite remembered until now. Being back served as a hell of a kickstart to your memory.

Just a few more reasons to get the fuck off of 141.

Getting off the elevators, the metal doors sliding closed behind you, you make your way down the hall. The polished flooring creates a subtle squeak through the wheels of your iv pole, your hand absently running over the fading stitches along your side.

Passing the shadows of your tortured memory, the doorway of the office was closed, locked.

You pass Kyle's room.

Johnny's.

Finally, you rush up to the next room on the left, grabbing the handle, before beginning to twist, but then you're yanking your hand back as if the metal had burned you. Your back ramming into the back wall, catching yourself, this wasn't your room.

It was Simon's.

You'd spent hours, days, in that room. More than your own.

Why wouldn't you? You were about to get married to the man. You had more in this room than you had in yours.

Sharp breaths leave you, shivering in your effort to keep yourself together, your head goes back into the wall, swallowing down the ache in your chest.

You wait, muscles tensed and your body pressing back into the wall, hoping it'd absorb you if that door opens. Listening for every sound, any pin drop, even an exhale from beyond that doorway. Luckily, Simon seemed to be out for the day.

Hurriedly, nearly running, you steady yourself against the wall as you rush down to the corner of the hallway, finally finding your room.

Turning the handle, it's not locked, it's broken. It opens with ease.

Entering the room slowly, pushing the doorway aside, the crackle of glass beneath your boots as you step forwards, clothes and picture frames laying scattered.

The mattress flipped and ripped open, springs and cotton cut from it. Your wall of metals and certificates, from acts of bravery and mementos of valor, discarded, later you'd find them in the trash, one with a bullet lodged into the gold.

Sniffling as you leaned down, picking a specific frame off the ground, the only one that hadn't been broken. Laying along the ruined rug, with no care for the glass digging through your jeans, you stare at the still shot of your family.

The only family you had outside of Task Force 141, your father and his sister, military brats themselves, until their retirement. Your mother had passed, or just up and left, days after your 5th birthday, you weren't completely sure, the story kept changing every year. But, these two were the only family you've ever known, ever had, until you joined the military, following in their footsteps.

They'd been so proud when you arrived back after your first assignment, in truth you were heavily traumatized, but seeing them, you just had to smile. Having a family that understood the harsh toll on the line of a trooper, now a lieutenant, it was always easier to bring your troubles to them. But, they were also military nuts so "suck it up" was also a quick go to answer from your aunt, while your father was the smoother talker.

They had met Simon, loved him, his rank, his love for you, his seriousness. They trusted him completely with your heart.

So, when he called them, after the evidence leaked...

They believed him.

"What're you talking about?" You took the handle of the chair in your grip, easing you down into it as your legs do weak at what you were hearing. "I didn't...I didn't do it, Dad."

"Do you know how humiliating and disappointing--how it felt to hear him say that to me, hm?" he says, static crackles on the reciever. "My daughter...my own flesh and blood...working with terrorists--"

"I'm not working with anyone! Are you-" you huff out a breath of disbelief. "Are you even listening to me? I've never betrayed the code. How can you think that way of me?"

For a moment, he's silent. "Alright, then," he began. "Than, what'd you do? huh?"

"What--what..."

"Oh, come on, (Y/n)!" your father yells. "What did you do?! What could they possibly have had on you that made you the most likely target? You had to have had done something, been somewhere, were with somebody you weren't supposed to be with! They didn't just get that information from anywhere."

"What the fuck--" Your expression twists with frustration and misery, running your hand through your hair, pulling at it. "I've sacrificed every part of myself for this job, for this team, what do I have to gain from throwing that all away? They send me everywhere, places you've never heard of, places you'll never hear about and people you'll never have to meet, because of me! Why would you just believe Simon? Why couldn't you just wait to talk to me?!"

Hearing your father scoff at your words was painful. "What reason do I have not to believe him? He knows you, maybe even better than any of us. Besides, he was going to be my son in law--"

"I'm your daughter! Fuck Simon, what about me? You'd believe him instead?"

He sighs. "Listen, you're upsetting Cass. We didn't expect your call. I gotta make this brief..."

"You're upset?" pulling at your hair, sucking in sharply. "I'm the one who's permanently fucking altered here. What do either of you have to be upset about?!"

"Watch your fucking mouth!" he seethes. The anger in his voice isn't new, but the way he spits it at you is. "You did this to yourself, I didn't. Maybe that's what your nightmares were about, am I right? Your guilt?"

Wiping the streaks of tears that had fallen down your face, lips quivering and chest aching with sobs you frustratedly shoved down. "Why don't you believe me?"

"I don't deserve the disgrace that will come with you as my kin, I've lived my part of this war. No daughter of mine should even be in this fucking position," your father spat, disgusted into the receiver. Suddenly, he was the cruel, bitter old man your mother had always known him to be, you wished she had stayed to at least remind you of that. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt as much. "You should be ashamed of yourself, but at least you got yourself out it. The least you could do for us."

"Well--what does that mean?" you spoke, quietly.

"Don't call again..."

"Dad, no--" you break this time, a sob escaping you.

"Me and your Aunt Cass..."

"Daddy please, don't do this--"

"..We've decided to cut ties. We're not taking any heat from this, you're on your own," he finishes, clearing his throat, waiting a moment, listening to the pleads and cries of his only daughter, his once pride. "You take care of yourself. Goodbye, kid."

"Why can't you just believe me? Why?!" you cried.

"Don't come to the house."

"No, no,--" the line goes dead. And staring down at your phone, his caller id going blank and the call disconnecting.

Your phone all of a sudden feels heavy, the device and your hand falling down to your thigh, before the phone slips out of your grip and onto the floor. You sit there silently, until your tears drop up and even after.

Staring at the photo now was haunting in its own way, it was just another painful reminder.

Using the bed frame to stand to your feet, your grip on the frame is painful as you squeeze it, the glass cracks audibly.

"Bonnie..."

Whipping around at the sound of John MacTavish's voice, you back up a few steps at the sight of him, your back hitting the edge of your desk.

He reaches out as you stumble, before his fingers curl back into his palm as you find your balance, his hands receding back to his sides. He doesn't enter the room, just lingering just beyond the doorway, his eyes flickering around the room, guiltily.

"I didn't know--we didn't know you were out," he speaks quietly, as opposed prideful personality that translated into his voice usually.

You say nothing.

In the dark, your eyes are wide and your shoulders are tensed up, he can see the glint of your leg braces, the iv pole at the side, the scar beneath your eye. You looked terrified to see him.

"We were coming back to clean up today, just got back from...from a mission..." he stutters on his words, shifting his feet.

"It's been a week."

His lips press together hearing your voice. "I know..." Johnny glances around at the room he'd let those officers destroy, it hadn't been them, but they might as well had done it. "I know...we just...didn't know it was so bad."

"Really?" your voice is mockingly sweet, drawing out the word. "You didn't know? Well look..." you hold up your family photo, the light in the hallway catching on the glass. "You missed one."

Your hand dropping, the heavy frame comes down just as fast, ramming into the ground, the glass practically exploding on impact.

Johnny flinches, the photo of your family...He looks back to you, surprised. "Bonnie..."

Snatching the next closest thing from your desk, a ceramic cup. "Oh, wow, can't believe you guys missed this one," you chuck it into the wall. It breaks on impact, the remains scatter along the flipped mattress and onto the floor. "That used to be my favorite mug by the way."

The Scotsman worriedly steps forwards, 'Lass, I'm sorry--"

"FUCK YOU!" you spat, coming into the light. You're sure you look deranged, and you didn't care. You could've wrapped your hands around his throat, killed him right on the floor and you wouldn't have blinked. "It doesn't mean anything! 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', over and over and over again! As if you shouldn't be! Your apologies mean fuck all."

"I know...I know," he breathes. "But, I've gotta say it anyway, bonnie. I should've believed you, there was no reason not to. I know that now. I just--"

"Believe me!" you cut him off with a yell. "Trust me! Fucking 'HELP ME'!" you screamed with the same fever as your days in the interrogation room, that terrible cell, the cold, the burn and pain. "I cried it all to you, to all of you, and nobody came. Nobody came for me," you breathe in sharply. "It doesn't matter what you should've done. You didn't do it!"

Johnny's eyes are red, he opens his mouth, closes it and then swallows down whatever chokes him up as he looks at you. "I should've came for you. I wish I did. I wanted to, Bonnie..." he steps forwards, and you recede back away from him, your eyes narrowed with violence. "I'll never forgive myself for not listening to you. For not coming to help you. For laying a hand on you. I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I'm sorry..."

I'll never forgive myself... "That makes two of us," you assured.

Johnny's eyes widen, before they close, his guilt ever consuming. He can't help but understand, to respect your decision, to know things can never be ok again. "(Y/n)...."

Grabbing hold of the nearest thing, a pencil cup, you hurl it at Johnny. He doesn't put his hands up, flinching as it hits him, the metal clinking against his kevlar, eyes closing then opening, he stands still. "I don't forgive. I don't accept your apology. I don't fucking care about it!" with each sentence you throw something else his way, a broken frame, the trash bin, a pillow, the CD player.

His hand has to come up for the knife you unsheathe, a memento from one of your missions, it's rusted, ancient probably. But, you hadn't given it up to a museum or to pawn, you had nearly died on this mission, saving Johnny ironically. You had to keep it.

Seeing the weapon, his defensive position is instinctive but his hands drop just as fast, he understands, you need this. You deserve this. "If you need to..." he speaks. Your eyes flicker up to him, away from the knife. "If you need to, I get it..."

And you need to. You really fucking do.

Your grip on the knife is dangerously hard, it hurts.

Looking at Johnny, he'd been your brother in more than a few ways on and off the field, he had been your comfort, your friend, your family. You had bled with him, held onto him as he carried you from the battlefield, joked, laughed, screamed and cried. You've loved him for years.

He'd had a rough few nights you could see that. He was quieter, reserved. Almost as terrified to see you, as you had been of him.

And you could kill him right now and never bat an eye.

And so, throwing that knife was so fucking easy.

Johnny's eyes close as you do just that, fists clenching and teeth biting down on his tongue to prepare for the pain.

The ancient weapon whiz's through the air, the sound is sharp and he knows it will cut through him like butter.

The thud rings in the room, and Johnny's eyes blow open wide, holding his breath as he collapses to his knees, before turning to you.

You dig into the pile of clothes that had been cast aside, a pair of sneakers and a new shirt. You don't look at him a single time as you take it all, stuffing them in a bag, and leaving the room, passing him completely, a limp in your step.

Johnny releases a pained breath, tears finally leaving him as he looks up, the knife lodged into the frame of the doorway, just barely missing him. The sleeve of his uniform ripped open.

He sits there in the quiet, destroyed room. A testimony to the relationship he's destroyed between you.

Part 4!! OUT NOW

#simon riley angst x reader #cod angst #tw torture #tw angst #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost angst #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty

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pinknipszz · 7 months ago

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heian era sukuna x reader →

(a/n: loosely inspired by that one jessica rabbit scene; this is also borderline uraume/reader bc theyre so cute ugh)

people don’t understand how you can love the king of curses. his figure was grotesque—beyond repulsive—with four heavy hands that could snap your limbs into two if he so pleased. they can’t get past the four eyes either, but you found them charming. how could you not when he looked at you so sweetly?

“where is my husband?” you inquire for the nth time, your voice as sweet as molasses as you tug at the ends of uraume’s sleeves. the humble servant doesn’t answer immediately; they know not to, and you don’t mind. while you wait, you watch the passerines tease the fish in the pond from your spot on the engawa.

uraume dips their elegant fude into the shallow inkstone beside you. calligraphy and whatnot. “lord sukuna is tending to matters in the southern provinces,” they answer with the same amount of patience they had a few minutes ago, and an hour before, and another before that. they must be used to it now.

“do you think he misses me?” comes a light brush against their pale hand. uraume exhales through their nose at your question, but not from exasperation. never that. “yes,” they say with utmost sincerity, like it’s gospel truth, before painting one long, flourishing stroke. “very much so.”

content, you cease your ministrations and fall on your back, giggling at the way your hair splays beneath your head. “he loves me,” you coo and cup your sun-kissed cheeks. “my husband loves me, and i love him too.” you think the edge of their lips twitch up into the barest hint of a smile.

but it vanishes before you can get a proper glimpse. sighing, uraume gives you a knowing look from the corner of their eye as they dip their fude back into the inkstone. you turn to lay on your side and watch how it absorbs the ink. “the servants, though adequate, have been quite bothersome lately.”

they finish the kanji in several swift strokes. 麗. rei for beauty. uraume continues. “there’s ill speak of your relationship with lord sukuna.” you count the passerines, letting the unspoken question hang in the air. shall i do something about it? it’s uraume’s turn to wait patiently for an answer, an ultimatum.

but you don’t give one so easily, preoccupied with an image that resurfaces in your mind: a group of servants—fresh off the cut and eager-eyed—gossiping by the water well. you don’t think they saw you, unless they were stupider than you thought, but they were loud enough to hear.

uraume is watching you, properly now, as you blow a stray strand of hair from your face. when they lean in to gently tuck it behind your ear, persimmons and plums permeate your senses. “do not bother with them. they talk because they do not understand why i love him,” you decide with finality.

“and why do you love him?” there’s a hint of fondness in their voice, reserved for you.

you look up through your delicate lashes, smiling cheekily. “he makes me laugh.”

(masterlist) | (a/n: would yall hate me if I wrote uraume/reader's pls be honest)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna x you #uraume #💐🎴

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odoraful · 4 months ago

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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔?

wanderer would prefer not to be stopped on his way home, especially when he's had a hard few days

content: wanderer x gn!reader; established relationship; 'kuni' nickname; pure fluff; just wanderer lowkey being a pathetic lover boy for you; 1.9k words

a/n: nothing else to say here besides i had a lot of fun writing this !! pls enjoy clingy wanderer !!

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“Hat Guy! Do yo-”

“Nope.”

Wanderer deadpanned, not even sparing a look at the scholar who addressed him as he walked past. It was at this point where most people would give up. Students of the Akademiya found that you had to catch the snarky scholar on a good day to strike up a casual conversation with him outside of the classroom. Unfortunately, this person was tenacious enough to not even let such an outright rejection faze him. Wanderer walked faster, only for his peer to match his stride.

“Hold on!” They cried out, slightly breathless from having to speed up. “You’re really not going to let me finish what I’m saying first?”

Wanderer scoffed. “What gave you that impression? My visible irritation? Or the fact that I’m actively trying to outpace you?”

“Hey! You don’t have to be so rude…” They frowned, voice trailing off in disappointment.

Finally giving the person a side-eyed glance, he recognised them to be a fellow Vahumana scholar named Mir. Whilst Wanderer could acknowledge Mir’s intelligence, he was far too soft-hearted for how stubborn he was. At that deflated comment, Wanderer stopped dead in his tracks. Mir wobbled, skidding on his feet to stop as well.

He considered using his flying abilities to leave Mir in the dust. However, this plan was only a fleeting thought as he recalled a stern meeting he had with staff at the Akademiya. They scolded that he wasn’t allowed to use his powers to avoid interaction with his peers. Something about misconduct and lacking etiquette that Wanderer half-remembered, choosing to nod along rather than actually listen to the prattle from the professors.

“Mir.”

He perked up. Wanderer could see his self-esteem reassemble at the mere fact that his name was remembered.

“What do you want?” Wanderer seethed, each word punctuated through gritted teeth.

If Mir felt intimidated at all by Wanderer’s ire, it showed little on his face. He only brightened further, seizing his chance to speak.

“I wanted to see whether you wanted to go to a social event later tonight at Lambad’s! There’ll be free drinks and food, and it’s really just a friendly get together to boost morale. It’s meant to be for us Vahumana scholars to catch each other up on the work we’re doing, and on what’s been going on in our lives,” he rambled.

What could simply be said in a few words Mir incredibly managed to do in multiple sentences. Wanderer let out a loud sigh.

“Mir,” he began, folding his arms. “Let’s say, hypothetically, you’ve just returned from a long and arduous trip from the desert where you’ve used all your energy up to explore ruins. Would you want to spend what little time off you have for the day going to a crowded tavern with people you only barely know?”

Mir stuttered. It was the most Wanderer had spoken to him in one go.

“W-well, that’s a good question! I guess it depends on what kind of-”

“Just answer it.”

Wanderer interrupted, dismissing Mir’s frivolous technicalities with a wave of his hand.

“Alright! Probably not! I’d just want to go home and relax.”

“And there it is,” Wanderer opened his arms wide, like a magician revealing their latest trick, “my response to your invitation.”

He turned smoothly on his heel and walked off. Mir opened his mouth to protest, but none came out. He stood there slack-jawed at his own words being used against him. Fortunately, he didn’t follow any longer.

Wanderer would probably short circuit if he bumped into anyone else right now. What he had told Mir was the truth. He was on his way home from the Akademiya just after returning from a 2 day trip in the desert. He would have enjoyed the expedition far more if his professor hadn’t dragged him out on such short notice. Most likely, she had seen that his schedule wasn’t as busy for the next few days and roped him into a project of ‘great academic importance’. Time that would have been spent doing whatever he wanted to at home had been replaced by sweltering weathers and endless scribing of ancient tomes.

Fate was a truly cruel force. Especially so when it separated him from you without warning. At the thought of his partner, he recalled how he announced his departure. He had to leave that same day, and you had already left for work, so he scrawled a note and left it on the table for you to look at when you returned.

My professor has taken me on an research expedition last minute. I’ll be back in 2 days time. I’ll make it up to you.

Kuni.

Perhaps he would come back to see the same annoyance he had when dealing with Mir on your face at such a lukewarm message.

There was an inexplicable weight in his body when he walked. A dragging emotion that humans would probably label as tiredness. He needed to get home and fast. If he did arrive to a grumpy partner, he wouldn’t mind it. You were the only person who was actually worth dealing with in his eyes.

He looked around. The sun had retreated behind the horizon, and there were only a few people mingling around the street he was on. Perfect. It was empty enough for him to not cause a spectacle. Wind kicked up around him as he swiftly launched upwards, flying high above roofs. This would certainly cut his commute time in half. Quietly, he navigated the familiar streets towards home.

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Dots of yellow emerged below from hanging lamps across the city. The residents of Sumeru were preparing for the night, whether in revelry or idleness. The latter suited you more, as you began to unwind from a day of work and waited for Wanderer to arrive. The news that he needed to leave had surprised and saddened you a little. You were looking forward to spending more time with him over these few days when he wasn’t so busy with classes. If he kept to the words he wrote on that note, however, he would somehow make it up to you.

You held onto that hope as you folded clothes to be put away in the bedroom. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice movement outside as Wanderer approached the window on the second storey. Putting his face closer to the stained glass, your figure was rendered in an orange hue as he peered in. He tapped against the window with a finger.

You jumped with a yelp, turning towards the source of the disruption.

Honestly, you would have welcomed his arrival more warmly if the sight before you wasn’t so unexpected. Now, you couldn’t help but let out an incredulous laugh. Your boyfriend was hovering outside your bedroom window, staring at you like a rain-soaked cat waiting to be let inside.

You hurried towards the window, but didn’t reach out to open it just yet. Instead, you placed your hands on your hips, cocking your head to the side.

“We have a front door for a reason, you know.”

Even though your voice was muffled, he heard how you spoke in a sing-song manner.

“Well, I’m not at the front door now, am I?” He replied, matter-of-factly. “Mind opening up?”

Gesturing for him to step away a little, you unlatched the window and swung the glass outwards. Cool air immediately washed over your face, tickling your skin. He could hear the mild offense in your voice crystal clear now,

“I cannot believe this is how I’m being greeted after such a sudden departure-“

Your sentence cut off short as the wind got knocked out you.

Your boyfriend crashing into you mid-flight was a quick way to shut you up.

The force caused you to stumble back, falling to sit on the edge of the bed. Only then did the surprise settle in at what he was doing.

Wanderer had you in a tight hug.

Somewhat awkwardly, he was half-sitting in your lap, half-sitting on the bed. Shaking out of your stupor, you encircled your arms around his shoulders. Wanderer let his body fall limp, his feet now on solid ground. He buried his face in your neck.

“A-are you-”

“Don’t say a single word.” He said, voice low in warning. Though, the threat had little weight behind it with how he nuzzled into the hug.

Wanderer didn’t need to breathe to survive, but he had learned to inhale and exhale largely so that others wouldn’t gawk at him for his lack of breathing (he had honestly stopped doing it because of how bothersome it was to keep such a façade. However, after some convincing from Nahida about the necessity to get along with his peers, he begrudgingly adopted the habit once again). For you, it served another purpose. Clearly something or someone had riled him up earlier because his breathing had initially been huffed and short. Now, as he settled against your body, you felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, breaths slow and intentional.

“It’s only been 2 days, Kuni,” you pointed out with a soft chuckle.

His violet hair tickled your skin as he shifted his head, propping his chin up on your shoulder. Perhaps it was intentional that he kept his face out of your line of sight.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, “I know.”

“Then why are you acting like you haven’t seen me in months?”

Wanderer scoffed loudly. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

It was a shame you couldn’t see his face, for the way he closed his eyes and scrunched his nose in embarrassment at his own clinginess would’ve given you weeks of material to poke fun at him for.

“I think you do because I haven’t the faintest idea why you’re acting like this.”

There was no way he was falling for the fake, sugary innocence in your tone. You were an unstoppable force and he an immovable object. He chose to remain silent as you continued,

“Oh well, I guess I should go and finish folding these clothes if it’s nothing important.”

Abruptly, you removed your arms from him and went to stand. However, the grasp Wanderer had around your waist meant you could barely even move. Even bending over proved to be fruitless for you.

“Those chores can wait,” he muttered, interlocking his fingers together to hold you in place.

Despite knowing that you were messing with him, a small part of him was irritated that you even considered putting such a menial task above him.

You giggled at how touchy he was being. Your boyfriend could hardly come up with a word of affection without looking like he was going to combust, but would stop at nothing at the chance to hold you. You raised a hand to pat his head, smoothing his hair down. Every grievance he had over the past 2 days melted away with each pass of your hand. Archons, he even started to feel like he went a bit too harsh on Mir.

“Don’t worry,” Wanderer could hear the smile on your face as you began gently combing his hair between your fingertips. “I missed you too.”

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#odorawrites #genshin impact wanderer #genshin wanderer #genshin wanderer x reader #wanderer fluff #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

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falesten-iw · 11 days ago

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It's surreal to witness how easily some people can ignore the urgent situation in Gaza. They’re watching it unfold live: children and families in Gaza bombed, erased from their homes, but they still act like nothing’s happening. History will look back on this time, and it won't be forgiving. It won’t only remember those who supported the bombings; it will also remember those who sat back, shrugged, and scrolled past without a second thought. It will remember that we, as Palestinians, reached out for help but were met with indifference, silence, and passive inaction. There’s no difference between the Zionists and those who ignor our messages from Gaza. There’s no difference between the Zionists and those who witness our pain without acting. You are witnessing ethnic cleansing, and your reaction is ...... nothing. Blank faces, silence, a refusal to acknowledge the truth unfolding right in front of you. Are you really unable to spare $10, $15 or 20$ to save lives in Gaza? Are you too lazy to respond with even a word of support? Are we asking too much of your time?? Is 5 minutes of your time worth more than our lives in Gaza?? What are you going to tell your children, partner or loved ones when they ask what you did while all this was happening?? “Oh, I ignored their messages.” How will you justify staying silent when they flip through the history books in the future? A simple question for sharks: How do you think your followers will react when they realize you might turn a blind eye in their moments of need? What kind of influencer or artist chooses to ignore the pain of others? It’s been a year. More than 42,000 Palestinian civilians have been killed, and over 100,000 injured. Isn’t that enough? Or is the number still too small for you to care? Should we talk about the 10,000 missing or the countless unjustly imprisoned? Maybe you need to see every building in Gaza reduced to rubble before it finally “counts” for you. Do you feel a flicker of empathy? Of humanity? Or are you still waiting for the “right” moment to speak up and take action? History won’t just remember the silence. It will remember even you who ignored this post when your help and action were needed. My family in Gaza urgently needs your help, so please help us and donate now!

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead.

Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link

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skywalkerslvt · 22 days ago

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Pierced-Ellie Williams x AFAB!Reader

❥Pairing: loser!Ellie Williams x AFAB!Reader

❥Summary: After playing two truths and a lie with your best friend ellie, you reveal you have secret piercings. things ensue...

❥CW: smut, nipple play, reader has nipple piercings, fingering, oral sex (reader receiving), tribbing, ellie is a bit of a nervous loser in the beginning, top ellie, reader is sorta a power bottom, 4.2k words

❥a/n: This was supposed to be a really short fic but i went crazy (horny) and wrote all of this lmfao. hope u enjoy! <3

The basement was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a flickering lamp in the corner and the soft glow of the streetlights seeping through a small, grime-covered window. You could hear the muffled hum of the world outside, distant enough to feel like you were the only two people left in the world. The scent of old wood and dust filled the air, mixing with the sharp tang of alcohol from the half-empty bottle of whiskey resting between you and Ellie.

Ellie was leaning back against the basement couch, cheeks flushed and eyes hazy from the booze. You both were sprawled out on the floor, legs tangled as you reached for the bottle once again. Laughter bounced off the walls as Ellie threw her hands up in defeat.

“You're really bad at this game,” you teased, shifting a little closer to her. “But hey, maybe you'll catch me in a lie this time.”

Ellie cleared her throat, her nervous energy spilling over as she sat up straighter. “Oh, yeah, for sure. I got you this time,” she mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck like she always did when she was flustered.

You smirked, knowing exactly how to make her squirm. “Alright, here goes. I've broken my arm twice, I can speak a bit of French, and… two years ago, I got nipple piercings that no one knows about.”

Ellie's face went bright red, her hand freezing halfway to the bottle. She blinked at you, then laughed nervously. “Wait, what?”

You leaned in slightly, watching her face closely as you spoke. “You heard me. Nipple piercings. Two years ago.” You let the words hang there, watching as Ellie shifted awkwardly, her gaze quickly darting to your chest before settling on your eyes.

“Th-that's gotta be the lie,” Ellie stammered, clearly flustered as she fidgeted with the label on the whiskey bottle. “Right? I mean, I…you wouldn't…would you?”

You gave her a sly smile, brushing your leg against hers just enough to get her attention. "Guess you'll have to figure that out, huh?"

Ellie swallowed hard, her cheeks burning as she tried to come up with something witty in response, but all she managed was an awkward laugh. "I mean... y-you're messing with me, right?"

You leaned back, letting your gaze linger on her for a moment longer than necessary. "Maybe I am," you said with a shrug. "Or maybe you just don't know me as well as you think you do."

Ellie looked like she was about to implode, her mind racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out if you were hitting on her or just playing the game. You could see it written all over her face—the nervousness, the uncertainty—and it only made you grin wider. She had no idea how into her you really were, and it was almost too fun watching her try to piece it together.

Ellie shifted nervously, clearly out of her element as her eyes flicked between you and the bottle, as if it might give her some kind of answer.

“Is that your final guess?” you asked, leaning in, your voice teasing as you watched her squirm.

Ellie swallowed hard, her mouth dry. “Yeah… yeah, that’s my final guess. The piercings, they’ve got to be the lie,” she said, but there was hesitation in her voice, like she wasn’t quite convinced.

You smirked, biting back a laugh. “Wrong.”

Ellie’s eyes went wide, her face an even deeper shade of red. “What? No way. You’re messing with me.”

“Nope.” You shrugged, acting casual as you leaned back. “That was a truth.”

Ellie blinked, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “There’s no way. You’re just messing with me to screw me up. I don’t believe you.”

You leaned in, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper. “You wanna check for yourself?”

Ellie’s eyes went impossibly wider, her throat bobbing as she swallowed nervously. “I—I… uh, what?” Her voice cracked, and she quickly looked away, fidgeting with the bottle in her lap like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

You couldn’t help but laugh, watching her completely unravel. “Relax, I’m kidding,” you teased, though the glint in your eye said otherwise. “Unless… you really want to know.”

Ellie’s whole face burned, and you could practically hear her heartbeat from where you sat. She stammered, her words falling over themselves. “I—no, I mean—wait, are you actually…”

You bit your lip, amused by how lost she was. “Nah, I’ll just show you. Wouldn’t want you losing sleep over it.”

Before Ellie could stammer out another response, your shirt was over your head and thrown across the room. Her eyes were glued to your chest as you reached back to unclasp your lacy red bra.

Ellie's breath hitched as your bra fell to the floor, revealing the small silver barbells glinting under the flickering light. For a second, she just stared, her mouth slightly open, completely frozen in place. You could see her trying to form words, but nothing came out.

"Believe me now?" you asked, voice teasing as you leaned in, your chest close enough to brush against her arm.

Ellie blinked rapidly, her face bright red, looking like she might pass out from sheer embarrassment. "Holy shit," she muttered under her breath, finally managing to say something, though it sounded more like a dazed confession than an actual response.

You chuckled softly, leaning back just enough to give her some space but still close enough to keep her flustered. "Told you it was the truth."

Ellie's gaze flickered up to meet yours, her expression somewhere between awe and disbelief. "I—I mean... yeah, l believe you now." She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, her usual nervous tic in full force as she fumbled to find the right words. "I just didn't expect you to actually... show me."

You grinned, clearly enjoying the effect you had on her. "Well, I'm not one to back down from a challenge," you said lightly, your voice still laced with that teasing edge.

Ellie let out a nervous laugh, her eyes darting away from you as she tried to regain some composure. "Yeah, uh... challenge. Right." She was flustered beyond belief, and it was almost too cute how lost she looked.

Ellie's eyes were still glued to your chest, her breath shallow and uneven. You could feel the tension between you both, thick and electric in the dimly lit basement. The way she looked at you, completely entranced, sent a thrill through you.

"You can touch them if you want," you said softly, the invitation hanging in the air between you.

Ellie's head jerked up, her eyes wide and unsure. "I-uh, what?" She stammered, clearly caught off guard by your offer.

You smirked, brushing her knee gently with yours. "You heard me."

Ellie swallowed hard, her face burning even brighter. "Does it... does it hurt?"

You shook your head slightly, your voice dropping lower. "It hurt when I first got them, but now..." You leaned in, letting the words roll off your tongue, "...now it just feels good."

Ellie's eyes flickered back to your chest, her hand twitching like she was debating with herself. She hesitated, nervous, her fingers hovering near her lap as if she wasn't sure what to do. You could see the uncertainty in her, but also the undeniable pull.

Sensing her apprehension, you crawled closer to her, swinging your leg over one of her thighs so you could straddle it. "It's okay," you whispered, reassuring her. "I don't bite... unless you want me to."

That seemed to snap something in Ellie. She gave a shaky laugh, her hand finally reaching out, her fingers brushing tentatively over your skin. Her touch was featherlight at first, careful, like she wasn't sure if this was real or not.

"See? Doesn't hurt," you murmured, your voice soothing, though your heart was racing with excitement.

Ellie's fingers, still a little shaky, began to trace the outline of your piercings, her touch growing bolder as she got used to the sensation. You watched her face, the mixture of fascination and nervousness playing across her features. Her thumb brushed against one of the barbells, and you couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped your lips.

Ellie's eyes flickered up to meet yours, her breath catching at the sound. "Did I–was that okay?" she asked, her voice low and breathless, like she couldn't believe what was happening.

You smiled, biting your lip as you nodded. "Yeah, Ellie. That feels good."

Hearing that seemed to give her a little more confidence. She exhaled slowly, her fingers moving with more purpose now, gently rolling one of the piercings between her thumb and forefinger. The sensation sent a spark of pleasure through you, your body reacting to her touch in ways you knew she couldn't miss.

Her other hand hesitantly joined in, tracing the other barbell, her eyes locked on yours as if she was watching your every reaction, unsure but so eager to please. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, the warmth of her hands sending waves of heat through your body.

"Does this...feel good?" Ellie's voice was a low rasp, her own face flushed, eyes wide with anticipation.

"It feels really good," you whispered, your voice heavy with the tension between you. You arched your back slightly, pressing into her touch as her hands grew more confident, playing with your piercings in a way that had your breath hitching.

Ellie swallowed hard, her gaze dipping to your chest again as her hands continued to explore, experimenting with different pressures, watching your reactions closely. Her nervous energy was still there, but there was something more-something hungry in the way her touch lingered now, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

You could feel her pulse racing, her breath hot and shallow as her fingers tugged gently at the piercings, testing the waters. Every touch sent shivers down your spine, your skin alive under her hands. You leaned in, lips brushing her ear as you whispered, "You're doing so good, Ellie."

Her breath hitched at your words, and she stifled a groan as her hands moved more boldly now, her fingers teasing and pulling in a way that had your body arching toward her, craving more of her touch.

The air between you was electric, the playful teasing long forgotten, replaced by something far more intense. Ellie's lips parted, her breath coming in ragged bursts as she leaned in closer, her body pressed against yours, her hands still playing with your piercings like she couldn't get enough.

Ellie's hands were still moving over your chest, her touch growing more assured with each passing second, but there was still a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. She swallowed, clearly trying to steady herself before she spoke again. Her voice was barely a whisper, thick with uncertainty and need. "Can I... can I try with... my mouth?"

You felt a surge of heat wash over you at her request, her shy stammer only adding to the electric charge between you. "Yeah," you breathed, your voice soft but encouraging as you straddled her thigh, the fabric of her jeans pressing between your legs as you ground down slightly. "Go ahead, Ellie."

Her gaze flickered up to yours, a mixture of nerves and excitement, before she leaned in. Her lips hovered just above your skin for a moment, as if she was gathering the courage, and then you felt the soft brush of her mouth against your nipple. Her tongue flicked out, gently grazing the piercing, and the sensation made your breath hitch.

Ellie's hands settled on your hips, steadying herself–and you–as she grew more confident. Her mouth closed over the sensitive skin, her lips soft but eager as she took one of the piercings into her mouth, tugging gently with her teeth. You couldn't stop the moan that slipped out, your hands instinctively burying themselves in her hair, holding her closer as the pleasure intensified.

At the same time, your hips moved against her thigh, the friction of her jeans sending jolts of pleasure through you with every slow grind. Ellie groaned against your chest, clearly feeling the pressure of your body against her leg, her mouth working more fervently now, her tongue swirling around the piercing before she tugged again, harder this time.

You gasped, your fingers tightening in her hair, your hips pressing down harder on her thigh. "Ellie.." you whispered, your breath coming in shallow pants as the sensations built inside you, a delicious mix of her mouth on your chest and the steady pressure between your legs.

Ellie pulled back for just a second, her lips slick and flushed as she looked up at you. Her eyes were dark with lust, her breath ragged. "Is this... is this good?" she asked, her voice low and strained, like she was trying to hold herself together.

You bit your lip, your head tilting back as another wave of pleasure washed over you. "So good," you murmured, grinding down on her harder, urging her to keep going. "Don't stop."

With a renewed sense of determination, Ellie dove back in, her mouth working over your chest with more confidence, her hands gripping your hips tighter as you rocked against her. Each pull of her lips sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, mixing with the rhythmic grind of your hips on her thigh. The heat between you was overwhelming, every touch and movement amplifying the tension until it felt like you might explode.

With a sudden surge of confidence, Ellie gripped your hips and gently pushed you back, guiding you to the floor beneath her. You gasped in surprise but quickly surrendered to her touch, your heart racing as you felt the cool floor against your skin.

Her hands moved with purpose, brushing up your thighs as she shifted to hover over you. The flickering lamp cast shadows over her flushed face, illuminating the desire in her eyes. "You okay?" she asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping back into her voice, but it was mixed with a hunger that made your stomach flutter.

"Yeah, Ellie. Just... keep going," you encouraged, feeling a thrill rush through you as her fingers slipped beneath the hem of your skirt, inching higher.

She hesitated for just a moment, her fingers brushing against your skin, and then she boldly lifted your skirt, exposing your thighs. The rush of cool air made you shiver as her fingertips danced closer to where you needed her most.

Ellie hesitated for just a moment before her determination surged back. With a swift motion, she shifted to kneel between your legs, a glint of mischief in her eyes. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your skin, as she pushed your panties to the side and used her fingers to part you slightly, allowing her to find that sweet spot.

"Can I... try something?" she asked, looking up at you with a mix of eagerness and uncertainty.

"Yeah, please," you urged, your voice barely above a whisper, the heat pooling in your core.

With a teasing smile, Ellie brought her mouth back to your piercing, her tongue swirling around the metal as she simultaneously slid two fingers into you, pushing deeper as she began to stroke your sensitive spot. A gasp escaped your lips, the combination of sensations causing your body to arch instinctively toward her.

"Ellie!" you cried out, the heat of her mouth and the skillful movements of her fingers driving you wild. She watched you closely, her own excitement evident as she felt you tighten around her.

"Just relax," she murmured, her voice vibrating against you as she continued her exploration, her fingers working in and out while her mouth kept teasing your piercings. You could hardly keep still, your hips moving in rhythm with her fingers as waves of pleasure washed over you.

As Ellie continued to work her magic, she shifted her focus, her fingers moving more deliberately to target your clit while her mouth lavished attention on your piercings. The combination of sensations sent shockwaves through your body, making you writhe beneath her.

"Ellie, that feels so good," you gasped, lost in the bliss of her touch.

With every flick of her tongue and stroke of her fingers, the tension inside you built higher, the sweet pressure almost unbearable. "Just let go," Ellie encouraged, her voice low and sultry, her determination evident as she worked tirelessly to bring you to the edge.

And then, with a final flick of her fingers, you shattered, your body arching off the ground as pleasure washed over you in waves. "Ellie!" you cried out, your voice a mixture of ecstasy and disbelief at how incredible it felt.

Ellie didn't waste a second; she licked her fingers clean, a devilish grin spreading across her face. "Fuck, you taste so good baby," she said, her eyes dark with hunger. "I need more."

Before you could respond, she began kissing her way down your body, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin until she reached your thighs. She quickly removed your skirt and panties, leaving your slick cunt bare before her. Her fingers gripped your hips as she pulled you closer, her breath warm against you as she settled between your legs.

With expert precision, Ellie took her time, her tongue swirling around your clit, teasing and sucking in just the right way. Each movement sent shivers down your spine, your body instinctively responding to her every touch. "Ellie, yes!" you gasped, the sensations quickly building again.

She worked you closer to another peak, her eyes locked on yours, filled with both mischief and desire. You could feel the pressure mounting, a familiar tightening in your core as she expertly brought you to the edge once more.

With one final flick of her tongue, you let go again, your body trembling and shuddering beneath her as another orgasm washed over you. "God, Ellie!" you cried, the intensity leaving you breathless.

Ellie pulled back, wiping her mouth and grinning widely. "You really know how to make a girl happy," she teased, but you could see the need in her eyes, an unspoken desire lingering between you.

"Please," you breathed, your voice a husky whisper, "let me get you off." You could feel the heat pooling in your core again as the idea electrified you.

She looked at you, surprise flickering across her face before it shifted to a playful smirk. "You sure?" she asked, her voice low, excitement dancing in her eyes.

"Absolutely," you replied, determination flooding your veins.

With a swift motion, you shifted positions, settling yourself beside her.

You locked eyes, a silent agreement passing between you as you straddled her thigh, your fingers dancing down her body.

You guided her to open her legs wider, your body buzzing with anticipation. As you began to grind against her, the friction of your bodies sent waves of pleasure radiating between you. "Just like that," Ellie encouraged, her breath hitching as you pressed down against her.

Your movements grew bolder, your hands exploring the curves of her body as you brought your lips to hers, kissing her hungrily. You could feel the heat rising between you, the thrill of the moment igniting every nerve.

"Fuck, you're riding me so good, baby," Ellie rasped, her voice raw with need as her hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements. You ground down against her, the heat between your bodies almost unbearable as your slickness coated her, making each slide of your hips easier, smoother, and more desperate.

The wetness between your thighs mixed with hers, the sensation of your clits brushing together sending shivers through your entire body. Each movement was electric, your hips finding a perfect rhythm as you ground down harder, the friction driving you both wild.

Ellie's hands slid up your sides, rough fingertips grazing your skin before she cupped your breasts. Her thumbs brushed over your nipple piercings again, flicking them just right, making you gasp. "You like that?" she murmured, her voice thick with desire as she tugged gently on the metal, your nipples hardening under her touch.

Your body trembled as you pressed your chest further into her hands, the pleasure shooting through you with every little tug and pinch. Meanwhile, your hips rocked faster, sliding your wetness against hers in perfect rhythm.

The slick sounds of your bodies moving together filled the air, each grind pushing you closer to the edge.

Ellie's hips began bucking up to meet yours, desperate and needy as your clits rubbed together again, sending sparks of pleasure racing through you.

"Fuck, Ellie," you moaned, grinding harder as the pressure between your legs built to an overwhelming peak. You could feel her trembling beneath you, her breath coming in ragged gasps, matching your own.

Your wetness coated her thigh, smearing across both of your bodies as you moved together, the friction just right. Every grind of your hips made your clits brush against each other, the pleasure intensifying with each slick, desperate slide. Ellie groaned beneath you, her hands moving back down to grip your waist, pulling you harder against her.

You could feel her arousal mixing with yours, the heat between you almost unbearable. "God, you feel so fucking good," Ellie groaned, her voice thick with lust as she bucked her hips up to meet yours, the slickness between you making each grind smoother, more desperate.

The tension in your core was building quickly, winding tighter and tighter with every movement. Ellie's fingers dug into your hips, guiding you as you rocked against her, the pressure of your clits rubbing together sending you hurtling toward the edge.

Your body trembled as you leaned forward, bracing yourself on her chest.

Ellie took the opportunity to reach up, tugging at your nipple piercings again, sending sharp pleasure shooting through your body. "I love watching you ride me," she rasped, her voice breathless as she pinched your nipples harder, making you gasp.

The combined sensation of her rough hands on your chest and the relentless friction between your legs was too much. Your hips bucked wildly, grinding down against her as your orgasm slammed into you. "Fuck, Ellie," you cried out, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed through you, your slickness dripping down her thigh as you came.

Ellie groaned, her own body trembling as she watched you fall apart above her, your hips still moving, slower now, but still grinding against her, drawing out every last bit of your release.

As you came down from your high, Ellie's hands moved to your waist again, guiding your hips back into a steady rhythm. You could feel her need, the way her body trembled beneath yours, the slickness between you making it impossible to stop.

You leaned forward, capturing her lips in a heated kiss as your hips started moving again, faster this time, the friction of your clits rubbing together driving both of you wild. "You're so wet," you whispered against her mouth, your breath ragged as you rocked your hips down harder, desperate to feel her come undone beneath you.

Ellie groaned into your mouth, her hands gripping your waist even tighter as she bucked her hips up to meet yours. "Fuck, you feel so good," she gasped, her voice breaking as the pleasure became too much to bear. "Keep going, baby, don't stop."

Your bodies moved together, faster and faster, the slick sound of your wetness mixing with hers filling the room. Every grind of your hips made your clits brush against each other, sending sparks of pleasure through you both. The heat between your thighs was almost unbearable, the need to push her over the edge driving you harder, faster.

Ellie's breath hitched, her body tensing beneath yours as her orgasm built. "I'm so close," she groaned, her voice shaky as her hips bucked up wildly. You could feel her trembling, her body on the verge of release, and you ground down harder, determined to push her over the edge.

With one final grind, Ellie's body tensed, her back arching as she came with a shuddering moan. Her hands gripped your hips so hard it almost hurt, pulling you down against her as her orgasm washed over her, her body trembling beneath yours.

You slowed your movements, rocking gently against her as she came down from her high, her breath ragged and uneven. You pressed your forehead against hers, both of you panting, your bodies slick with sweat and arousal as the last waves of pleasure faded away.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room your heavy breathing. Then Ellie let out a breathless laugh, pulling you down into a soft, lazy kiss. "Fuck," she whispered, her voice still thick with pleasure. "That was incredible." You smiled against her lips, your body still trembling from the intensity of it all.

"You're pretty incredible yourself," you teased, pressing one last kiss to her lips before collapsing onto the floor beside her, completely spent.

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