#Unloading Arms

[midseo]

Prover Tanks, Prover Tank Manufacturer, Supplier, Exporter, India

Prover Tanks, Manufacturer, Supplier, Exporter, Pune, Maharashtra, India, Saudi Arabia.

Prover Tanks, Loading Arm, Loading Arms, Unloading Arm, Unloading Arms, Loading Arms System, Loading Arms Systems, Unloading Arms System, Unloading Arms Systems, Swivel Joint, Swivel Joints, Floating Suction Assemblies, Floating Suction Assembly, Prover Tank, Prover Tanks, Storage Tank, Storage Tanks, Storage Tank, Storage Tanks, Rotary Joint, Rotary Joints, Mechanical Seal Support System, Mechanical Seal Support Systems, Thermosyphon, Thermosyphons, Heat Exchanger, Heat Exchangers, Test Aider, Test Aiders, Fluid Handling System, Fluid Handling Systems, Manufacturer, Supplier, Exporter, Pune, Maharashtra, India, Saudi Arabia.

[binah-beloved]

Queequeg has taken to watching the sea, or more, the distant horizon. changing position gradually, the opposite way the ship is sailing, knotting rope and weaving twine with practiced hands. she speaks less, not difficult to achieve. her mind always elsewhere even as she completes her work. her fingers find her braids with nothing to do, running over and curling one or two, specifically around her hand. the rest of the crew raise their questions, but Queequeg simply shrugs and returns her gaze to the setting sun.

it clicks, instantly, when they finally return to shore. Queequeg nearly buzzes with silent anticipation, lighting up when she catches a glimpse of the only thing she wants to see. she barely even waits for the boat to properly dock, leaping over the side and running over to scoop you into her arms, spinning around once, twice. your grins match, your hand around a braid and her lips peppering your cheeks and uncaring of the stares trained on the both of you. ah, the crew nods and murmurs assent.

a reunion with her most cherished of all.

[kenobion]

My Apple Watch when I’m getting breakfast or unloading the dishwasher: 😀 congrats on your exercise!

Also my Apple Watch when I’m actually exercising by doing yoga: 😌 I do not see it

[tommygotwrittenoff]

buck should be the dad at costco that has four kids in tow who keep convincing him to buy more snacks than they need with a "dad please these are soo good" "cmon we already got---oh dang look at that price. grab two."

[oscargender]

Had the most. Specific dream

[iguessitsjustme]

Next time I am taking the train

[501st-rexster]

FUCK it's so true.

[nanaslutt]

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

riding geto on the couch and he’s sitting back with his arms wrapped around your waist, burying his head against your chest as he sucks a nipple into his mouth. he’s groaning against your chest, making you clench around him from the stimulation of his vibrations.

it’s almost too much, and you don’t wanna finish yet so you wrap his hair around your fist and yank him back to get him off you and he curses. geto grabs your waist and starts slamming you down on his cock, his eyes rolling to the back of his head in pure bliss as you keep his hair in his hair.

“pull it again,” he groans, the words breathy. so you do, and when you yank his long hair his head falls back against the couch, exposing his beautiful pale throat as he brainlessly moans and his hips stutter as he fucks up into you.

“yesss, fuuuck,” he groans, his eyes rolling back into his head, almost fucking crossing from how good it feels. you lean into his neck and suck on his throat, squeezing around him as tight as you can as his cock head slams into your sweet spot. geto turns his head away from you, exposing his throat to you more and you yank his hair again, helping him turn his throat away.

geto laughs through a groan at the sharp pain, holding his breath when you suck on his throat. pulling away, you press a kiss to his throat and moan, “good boy, suguru.”

suguru nods and releases a long groan, “i am huh?” he asks, his voice breathy and hips stuttering. you nod, “yeah, such a good boy baby, taking getting your hair pulled so good.” he smiles and bites his lip, holding his breath every few seconds as his orgasm gets closer

“feels really good.” he responds, his thighs starting to shake under him. “yeah? feels good?” you yank his head again with your words. “baby-“ his smile falls and his mouth opens in a wide o, his brows creasing before you feel him soot inside you. he’s helpless as you continue to ride him through his high, his abs clenching and body jerking as he fills you up while you squeeze your fist against his scalp, giving him the pain he needs to unload his balls

[gojosconsort]

Hey! I was wondering if you could maybe do a part 3 to Nanami and his innocent wife? You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.

“these bikinis are so tiny now,” you muse, poking your head out from the dressing room curtain. your husband kento slumps in a store chair, exhausted from working overtime and now you’re dragging him through this beachwear shop for a vacation he’s dreading—because you, his sweet, clueless wife, are a walking test of his sanity, and he’s losing.

“what’s the problem, honey?” he says while he’s trying to focus on the tacky store decor—anything but the thought of you in a bikini and your curves, because every time you step out, all innocent, his cock twitches and he’s one step from fucking you against the mirror until you’re a whimpering mess.

you yank the curtain open, stepping out, and kento nearly dies right here and there. the bikini’s a fucking crime—neon pink, two pathetic triangles straining against your tits, which threaten to spill over. the fabric’s stretched so tight it’s basically transparent, nipples hard from the store’s AC, and the straps are screaming for mercy, digging into your skin, pushing those pretty boobs up and out.

“my boobs don’t fit,” you pout, tugging at the top, making them bounce and jiggle in a way that sends kento’s cock throbbing painfully hard.

“fuck,” he chokes, voice a strangled wheeze. you giggle, oblivious, bouncing on your toes, and the bikini groans, one tit nearly popping free, a sliver of pink nipple taunting him—kento’s mouth waters, aching to lick that teasing peek, to push the fabric aside and tease the stiff bud with slow, hungry swirls of his tongue.

“it’s so tight, kento, look!” you say, spinning to check the mirror, and your ass in the matching thong bottom—plump, barely covered—makes his cock leak, a wet spot blooming dark against his pants, precum soaking through as he shifts, trying to hide it. “looks good” he rasps, sounding like he’s been punched, eyes glued to your chest, where every jiggle is slow-motion torture.

he’s picturing it—ripping that bikini off, sucking those fat tits, pinning you to the wall, fucking you raw until you’re dripping with him, your throat too hoarse to speak. his slacks are a prison, cock throbbing, balls tight, and he bites his cheek, the sting doing nothing to stop the feral spiral in his head.

“good?” you laugh, turning back, still tugging, making your breasts bounce more, each wobble a dagger to his control. “kento, they’re almost falling out!” you say, pouting, and start testing the fit—hopping, bending, shaking your shoulders, making your breasts bounce harder, each ripple shredding his sanity.

“see? it doesn’t fit!” you say, doing a little shimmy, and kento’s jaw locks, teeth grinding, a low groan trapped in his throat. he’s feral, imagining pinning you down, tying your wrists with his tie, gagging you with his cock till you’re choking, those tits bouncing as he fucks your throat raw.

you bend forward, inspecting the straps, and your tits sway, nearly spilling, the motion hypnotic. then you twist, checking the mirror, do a little spin, arms raised, and your tits bounce again, threatening to burst free with every turn while kento’s eyes are unblinking, glued to your chest.

how he wishes he could bend you over the chair right now, spanking that plump ass red, then fucking you from behind, hands squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples until you’re sobbing his name, cum leaking down your thighs as he fills you again and again.

“it’s so silly, right?” you say, still moving, hopping again, your boobs jiggling like they’re mocking him, the straps slipping, one inch from disaster. his cock’s throbbing, leaking so much and he’s picturing unloading on your tits, painting them white, watching it drip while you look up, all sweet.

then it happens—one strap snaps, a tit spills free, full, round, nipple taut and teasing, bouncing with your last hop. kento’s done, a guttural “we’re leaving” ripping out as he thinks he’s gotta buy this thing before he cums in his pants right here in the store, and he’s up, chair screeching, wet spot glaring. “let’s buy the damn thing already.”

[midseo]

Floating Suction Assemblies Manufacturer, Supplier, India

Floating Suction Assemblies, Manufacturer, Supplier, Exporter, Pune, Maharashtra, India, Saudi Arabia.

Floating Suction Assemblies, Loading Arm, Loading Arms, Unloading Arm, Unloading Arms, Loading Arms System, Loading Arms Systems, Unloading Arms System, Unloading Arms Systems, Swivel Joint, Swivel Joints, Floating Suction Assemblies, Floating Suction Assembly, Prover Tank, Prover Tanks, Storage Tank, Storage Tanks, Storage Tank, Storage Tanks, Rotary Joint, Rotary Joints, Mechanical Seal Support System, Mechanical Seal Support Systems, Thermosyphon, Thermosyphons, Heat Exchanger, Heat Exchangers, Test Aider, Test Aiders, Fluid Handling System, Fluid Handling Systems, Manufacturer, Supplier, Exporter, Pune, Maharashtra, India, Saudi Arabia.

[callofdoobie420]

Something something neighbor!Price who just so happens to also be retired…

Has his dad bod absolutely perfected. He is still fit, with some definition but he’s gotten a bit softer in some areas. A little extra pudge on the tummy. *chefs kiss*

Sees this pretty little bird moving into the small house down the road from his, while out on one of his walks. Notices you struggling with a heavy box.

“Need help there sweetheart?” He asks, his voice smooth - yet some how still deep, gravelly.

“Oh, it’s okay - hmmph,” you groan, as you try to heft the box out of the back of your car, “I’ve got it!”

Independent. Capable. But oh so soft.

Yeah…Price was done for.

He gave a soft chuckle as he moved closer, one hand grasping a side of the box. “Please let me,” he gives a genuine smile, “only the neighborly thing to do, help a pretty bird like yourself,” he says with a cheeky wink.

You blush, but relent, letting him take the box. Heaving it into his arms with ease (what a yummy looking snack those biceps are…). You follow him in with a much smaller box, directing him where to put his.

John stays to help you finish unloading your car, maintaining it was no bother. It really wasn’t, he was finding that he liked your presence. Soft, and kind, but with enough fire to put John in his place.

You invited him inside to cool off when you both finished, offering a cool glass of lemonade. Sat at your small dining table, he slowly drank his lemonade. Taking in your small home and the way you carried yourself. He couldn’t help but think…

Darlin don’t get too cozy, you’ll be moving again in less than a year. This time it’ll be just down the road into his place, as his girl.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

[cherie-doll]

LADS: When You Don't Give Them Attention

༻ Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb ༺

₊˚✧ Xavier just wanted a few moments with you, despite how heavy his eyelids felt and how he should be resting in bed right now; he knew he wouldn't rest peacefully until you came to bed with him. Usually, he wouldn't even stay up waiting for you, but he felt particularly clingy tonight for some reason. It's like falling asleep with your favorite plushie from when you were a kid; you no longer needed it, but it still provided a sense of security and comfort that nothing else could replicate. Xavier kept coming up with excuses to get up, like going to the kitchen for a glass of water, or needing an extra blanket, etc... all just so he could walk by you sitting in the living room with a reading light on. What was so interesting about that book? But you had become so absorbed into the story you hadn't even realized how late it had gotten!

₊ ೀ Zayne tries his best to respond to all the messages you spam him with. Right after he finishes work he picks up his phone to read all the messages you sent him. You know he's not going to respond right away, so you usually get busy doing something else while you wait for that notification from Zayne to arrive. He's answered all your messages and tries calling only for you to not answer. He frowns, slightly disappointed; as he's used to you picking up right away. He's already thinking of what restaurant you'll visit when he passes by you sitting contently on a bench at the park. You don't even notice his gaze lingering on you as you're too busy trying to make friends with a pigeon. Zayne is amused that you managed to occupy yourself long enough that you don't even notice him standing directly behind you. Which when you do feel him you startle.

༄༢ུ࿓ Rafayel will let you know when he's feeling ignored. He's overdramatic and sassy and won't shut up about it. You're seriously tired and trying your best to finish your work, it's not like you're ignoring him on purpose! "I know, I know" as he complains about the fact that you told him you'd be done 20 minutes ago and it's been wayyy longer than that. If only you could close your laptop and cuddle and spend some time with him. Instead, you're stuck stressing over work. Seeing your furrowed eyebrows he decides to stop pouting and instead help you. The corners of this mouth go up in a soft smile as he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face into your neck. "I think this is good for us both." Perhaps he did help boost your productivity so you were able to finish early.

ᨳ᭬ Sylus knows every game and trick of yours, so he thinks you not answering his knock right away is you playing a prank of some sort on him. He waits a few more moments, the image of you giggling behind the door in his mind. But there's silence, not a sound when he rings the doorbell. He looks around and peeks in through one of the windows, well thankfully, he knows the code to unlock your door. He walks into your apartment and hears shuffling and plates clattering in the kitchen. There you are with headphones on, completely unaware of your surroundings as you unload the dishwasher and hum to yourself. You don't even feel his tapping on your shoulder nor do you turn right away when you spot his face reflected on a spoon. Suddenly, you feel his hands coming to the sides of your head, removing your headphones and his laugh is heard clearly.

❦ Caleb would come home and wait for when you would run into his arms like you usually did. But he's a little confused when he doesn't hear your footsteps nor you calling out his name. Maybe you were occupied with something? He roams the house; checking each room he passes looking for you. He tilts his head at not seeing you in your usual spots; you're not in your favorite armchair, nor are you in the kitchen grabbing a snack, and you're not in the bedroom either. Like a lost puppy, he stands confused in the house, not knowing where you could've gone. How strange of you... when suddenly he catches a glimpse of you through the window. You're peacefully gazing at the sky, headphones on and completely unaware of Caleb's presence. He decides not to disturb you and observes how serene this scene looks.

[hellishattempt]

nanami kento comes home on a saturday afternoon, hands full of groceries and hair freshly cut. in the distance, he hears his precious wife humming along to her favorite soundtrack. you must not have heard him come in. he smiles to himself, setting the groceries on the counter, but not unloading them. that can wait. right now, he wants to hold you.

he slips out of his shoes, padding quietly to the laundry room where you are folding towels. you have your back to him, headphones lodged in your ears. as nanami gets closer, the music bleeding from your headphones becomes audible. he chuckles softly. no matter how many times he tells you it's bad for your ears, you insist on listening to your music at just below full volume.

snaking his arms around your waist, you jump at the sudden contact. nanami presses his chest against your back as you take out your headphones, leaning into his touch. you sway in silence for a moment, nanami resting his chin on your shoulder. when you turn to face him, your expression changes at the sight of his hair.

"your hair," you state dumbly. "you cut it."

"yes," your husband muses. "is there something wrong with it?"

"no, no!" you assure nanami, studying his hair. "i just wasn't expecting it. you normally have me do it, which you know i don't mind doing."

"i know, but i didn't want to bother you on your cleaning day."

your expression softens at his words. nanami, your ever loving, ever caring husband, always thinking about you before himself. you reach one hand up, smoothing the hair down the back of his neck. as you bring your hand up, the freshly cut hair pricks your palm, and nanami lets out a low hiss.

you immediately apologize, pulling away. "did that hurt?"

"yes, but it's okay. it felt... good," nanami confessed. "... do it again. please." his voice is thick and demanding, and you obey without hesitation.

this time, you use just the tips of your fingertips to graze his undercut, beginning at the base of his neck. his breathing quickens as you continue to to run your hands through his undercut, going up and down, switching from one hand to both, thumbs caressing the sides of the cut. the laundry room fills with his melodic whimpers and faint groans. his eyes are shut tight, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

"fuck..." he cusses lowly.

"you okay, nani?" you giggle, stopping momentarily. his eyes flash open, pupils blown. "kento?"

"let's go to the bedroom," he insisted, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the master bedroom. you barely have time react before nanami pushes you back on to the bed, practically ripping your leggings off.

"kento, what are you doin-" you try to protest, his hands clamping around your wrist and bringing them down to grip his hair. his head disappears between your leg, lips latching around your clit. involuntarily, your fingers tighten around his sharp undercut. he moans into your cunt, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body.

from then on, nanami kento always got an undercut.

[whorelaud]

OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (01)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch warnings none !

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 01 ¡ 02

“Wake up, we’re here.” Ryan nudged your side, observing as your parents unloaded the trunk, arguing over the amount of luggage each one of you brought. “Get up, Bug, mom is gettin’ mad.” 

Ryan gave you a harsh push, disturbing your slumber as you jolted up from your seat. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes, eyeing your surroundings with haze, a mere attempt to make sense of the new setting that encircled the Airbnb your parents ranted. 

It was a beautiful view, the sight of the beach not too far away, ocean breeze heading in your direction. Ryan’s figure instantly filled your vision, earning a low grumble out of you. You tucked your hair out of your face, stretching out your arms over your head.

“You slept through the whole ride.” Your brother scoffed, gathering the crumbled candy wrappers from the cup holder. “Help mom! She’s really mad, why’d you bring so many luggages?” 

“Don’t piss me off,” you mumbled, kicking his knee, the gesture causing the latter to stumble back. “Move.” 

You shuffled out of your seat, hopping out of the car. The place was surprisingly big– not for a family of four, that’s for sure. An unfamiliar car was parked in the driveway, the sight earning a puzzled expression out of you. 

“Is someone else here?” You questioned, attention shifting to Ryan, who was busy tidying your side of the vehicle. “Who’s that car for?” 

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Ryan shot back, furrowing his eyebrows with confusion. “What, you thought we’d be here on our own?” 

“Wasn’t that what we had in plans?” You mumbled, strolling towards the creaked door. You peaked your head inside, an audible gasp escaping your throat when you spotted your parents chatting with a middle aged couple, whom you would assume were the guests staying with you. Their identities remain a mystery as they were faced away, unable to recognize them with only the back of their heads. You turned to face Ryan, whispering your next sentence. “There’s people inside.” 

“Yeah, no shit.” He rolled his eyes, shutting the door to the car. He approached you, squeezing by as he let himself inside. “You think I’m spending the next two months stuck with only you? Hell no.” 

“God, we should’ve let you rot on campus.” You groaned, following behind him. You remained as quiet as physically possible, not wanting to capture the elders’ attention, aware of the conversation they planned on dragging you to. 

While walking up the stairs, you winced, as the suitcase you carried collided into the wood on your way up, creating a thud. Your gaze shifted to where your parents stood, a sigh of relief escaping your throat when you noticed they were still accompanied by the couple to their side. 

You carefully settled your suitcase down, dragging it along as you observed each room, deciding which one would suit you best. You came to a halt once one caught your eye, growing intrigued as you opened the door all the way through, revealing the layout of the furnitured space. 

“Pretty.” You whispered to yourself, tracing the designed light switch with your fingers. 

“Not bad,” Ryan replied, his presence startling you. “Good choice, this room is actually mine.” 

“I was here first!” Your face twisted with annoyance, watching as your brother leaned against the wall, now facing you. “It’s my room, not yours.”

“Oh, we’re going there?” He warned, cocking his head to the side. “I’ll tell dad about the time you sneaked out every day for an entire month, and made me cover for you whenever you got in trouble.”

“That was four years ago,” you reasoned, huffing at his ridiculous threat. “Besides, you’ve done worse. Remember all the marijuana you hid in my room? Or did we forget about that?” 

“Okay– that was–” Ryan stammered, slumping his shoulders as he rolled his eyes. “I’ll kill you if you tell anyone about that.”

“Whatever, get out of my room.” You shoved his arm, the contact earning a dramatic gasp out of him. “Go complain somewhere else, I’m not giving you this room.”

“C’mon, Bug!” He whined, resisting the hands pressing to his back, forcing him out of the room. “There’s better rooms, why do you want this one specifically?!”  

“Probably for the same reason you do.” You exclaimed, sighing once you gave Ryan one last push, the action causing him to stumble out into the narrow hallway. “And stop calling me that, I’ll kill you if you refer to me as Bug in front of everybody.” 

“Everyone calls you Bug.” He clicked his teeth, fixing the collar of his shirt. “I forget that your name isn’t Bug sometimes, you know, jus’ used to it.” 

“Are you trying to distract me right now? ‘Cause it’s not working.” You forced a tight-lipped smile across your face, earning a groan out of Ryan. “Busy yourself with something else, I don’t have time to pamper you.” 

“‘Kay, fuck you then.” He spat out, flipping you off as he walked away. 

You shut the door with a chuckle, taunted by your brother’s lash out. You placed your luggage on the bed, growing confused when you noticed the bed was slightly undone, indicating someone clearly had been there. You brushed it off, thinking it was Ryan’s doing, as you were too exhausted to further process it. 

You searched through your suitcase, acquiring your everything-shower bag. You set it to the side, retrieving a clothing set, one suitable to be seen in, and comfortable enough to get you through the night. 

Once you had everything you needed, you grabbed your belongings, freezing when footsteps echoed through your ears. You were painfully aware that this was not Ryan, as you would’ve heard him come in with the click of the door. 

You aimed for your bag, equipping yourself for the hit you planned to swing, now that you sensed your life being at risk. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you had coming as you swiftly turned around, a ragged breath escaping your parted lips at the sight of a certain someone. 

Mere inches away from you stood Rafe, the Rafe Cameron whom you have messaged a few hours from now. You couldn’t believe your eyes, instantly brushing this off as a dream, because there’s no way in hell he was there, half naked, with only a towel hanging low around his hips. A blank expression remained plastered across his face, not too astonished by your presence.

A nervous gulp dried your throat, gaze following the water drop trailing down his exposed chest, on full display, revealing his muscular figure. God, his arms, the photos weren’t doing him justice, because besides his toned body, the man was gorgeous. 

His eyes were a radiant shade of blue, nose slightly pointy, as well as his pink lips, that you wouldn’t describe as big, but just the right size, as you wanted nothing but to lean forward and kiss him, ceasing the unnecessary distance between you. 

You shook the thoughts off, clutching into stuff that you had in hand, instantly growing nervous by the latter as he took a step forward, now towering over you, making you feel small under under his gaze. You glanced up at him, shifting your vision back to his chest when you caught him already staring at you. 

Rafe broke into a grin, amused by how flustered you were, nothing compared to how brave you were over text. He remained in front of you for a moment, awaiting a response out of you, a question perhaps. 

“I…” ah, there it was. “I didn’t know you were in here.” 

“That’s okay,” he reassured, voice dripping with sweetness, that the moment he spoke, you found yourself melting in the spot. “Look at me.” 

Your face flushed with heat at the statement, shifting your gaze back to his face, breath knocking out of your chest when his eyes locked with yours, creating a mess out of you. He leveled himself with your body, adjusting his position where he stood now that he caught your attention. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he hushed out, grogginess visible through his tone. “Bug, was it?” 

Yeah, had you known Rafe Cameron was spending the next two months with you, you would not have shown up, aware of the consequences that came with your feelings. 

How were you supposed to set a limit for yourself when he’s there, existing and looking so attractive while doing it?

a/n prepapre to be sick of me theyre my new obsession!! also i PROMISE i have something planned for the whole bug nickname pls give it a chance ehebhe ei hope you enjoyed wheww im so nervous to publish this

TAGLIST @greyswaren @slut-4-gojo @depthsofdespairr @littlelamy @lilithblackkk @starkeydolly @mattyskies @percysley @aariahnaa @jaklvbub @inlovewithdob @ilovefiction4lmen @theeternaloptimistt @maybejj @icaqttt @idgasb

lmk if u wanna be added >__< !!

[valeisaslut]

Ellie fucking you with her gun…👅👅👅

loaded worship ₊ ⊹

𖥠 word count: 1.9k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

𖥠 content warnings: top!ellie x sub!reader, porn w no plot, gunplay (r!receiving, consensual, unloaded, treated as a kink object), oral fixation (licking/sucking gun), AFAB!reader, cursing, pet names, spit kink, mild choking, degradation + praise, overstimulation, power dynamics, brat taming, MEN AND MINORS DNI, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated 𖥔 ݁ ˖

it starts, like it always does, with you mouthing off.

ellie’s at the edge of the bed, legs spread, perched in a chair that’s more throne than furniture. the window’s cracked open behind her. the clouds blur into the moonlight.

she’s cleaning her gun again—not for protection, not for purpose, but for the meditative rhythm of it. something ancient in her hands, like a priest with a chalice.

and you—bratty, barely clothed in a paper-thin tank and those sleep shorts she loathes and loves at the same time— are sprawled across the sheets, soft skin glowing under the bedside lamp.

“gonna spend more time with that thing than me tonight?”

your voice is honey-laced venom. flirtatious, syrupy, barbed. she hears the dare in it. she always does.

ellie doesn’t answer right away. she slides the barrel back into place. presses the magazine in, safety flicks on with a soft click. there’s a smile on her lips that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. the kind that says she’s deciding whether to be sweet. or cruel.

“you jealous, baby?”

that voice. low and warm and mocking, but still so tender it hurts.

“maybe.” you stretch, belly tight, spine arching in a way that’s downright pornographic. “it’s prettier than me.”

her head lifts. one eyebrow raises. her gaze cuts you in half.

“nothing’s prettier than you.”

you roll your eyes.

and that’s it. the eye-roll, the little sigh, the careless way you flop onto your back like you’re bored. like she doesn’t have her trigger finger twitching. like she doesn’t wake up every morning already wet just from the thought of shutting you up.

she sets the gun down.

softly.

like it's not the most dangerous thing in the room.

“come here.”

there’s a change in the air. you feel it like a shift in pressure. her voice is velvet-wrapped steel—low, calm, lethal. not angry, but simmering. inevitable.

“ellie,” you murmur, but you’re already moving.

“no,” she says again. “come. here.”

she’s spread out in that chair like she owns even the air you're breathing. tattooed arm draped over her thigh. pupils blown wide. the slow smirk of someone who’s been waiting all day for an excuse.

“you got a lot to say tonight,” she murmurs when you get close. “real mouthy for someone who couldn’t stop begging ten minutes ago.”

“wasn’t begging,” you whisper, breathless. fake confident.

she tilts her head. hums low in her throat.

“nah. you were whining.”

her hand curls around your wrist and tugs you into her lap. you’re not even sure how you end up there — her fingers are hot against your skin, her thigh spreads you open instinctively. she kisses you once, deep and slow, like she’s claiming her prize. then she leans back.

“take your clothes off.”

you blink.

her voice is soft, but the command in it cuts like glass.

“why?”

she smiles.

and picks the gun back up.

“ellie—”

“relax.” her voice is velvet now, coaxing, almost sweet. “you trust me?”

you nod. instantly.

“you like being a brat, huh?” she murmurs. “you like pushing me.”

your heart’s in your throat. “maybe.”

“you want me to show you who you fucking belong to?”

a shaky breath. a nod.

and when you comply, you do it slow. ceremoniously. like you’re undressing for god — or something much, much worse. your fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and panties, peeling them down your thighs with shaky grace. your breath hitches at the chill in the room, the way it grazes over your freshly bare skin. you kick them aside, standing exposed from the waist down — but ellie’s still watching. still waiting.

your hands reach for the hem of your tank. soft cotton, now clinging with sweat. you pull it up, slow enough to feel her eyes follow the motion. over your ribs, your chest, your shoulders. when it finally leaves your body, you’re stripped to nothing — and that’s when it hits.

you feel it.

the weight of her stare. like a spotlight. like heat crawling over every inch of you. ellie’s not just looking, she’s devouring. the kind of look that makes you feel like prey, like art, like her favorite sin all at once. it makes your skin burn. your pulse skip. your thighs press together on instinct, already aching.

she doesn’t speak.

she just spins the gun in her hand with the ease of long practice—as if she was born with it, the ritual of cleaning and handling the only thing that steadies her. it twirls in her palm once, twice, catching the light as it flips , and then lands barrel-down in her open hand. her thumb brushes the safety. her fingers curl around the grip.

she’s still watching you.

you’re completely bare. she’s fully clothed. legs spread, eyes dark. the contrast makes you feel tiny. and impossibly turned on.

"you look like a dream,” she murmurs, her gaze pinning you in place like a knife to the throat. there’s a smirk playing on her lips — cocky, slow-burning — but her eyes are pure fire.

she spins the gun in her hand again and lets the barrel rest on her open palm.

“spit.”

“ellie—”

“spit on it.”

she doesn’t blink. and you —shaking now, lips parted— obey.

saliva hits the black metal, slick and hot. it glides down the barrel in the most obsene, wicked way imaginable.

ellie groans, quiet. pleased.

“fuck. good girl.”

she uses her thumb to smear it in. sensual, fucking indulgent.

“turn around.”

and you do. breath hitched. you straddle her lap with your back to her chest, thighs spread wide, cunt wet and aching. every inch of you is electric.

she nudges the barrel between your legs. just a tease. the steel is cold and slippery now, coated in spit and tension.

“still think she’s prettier than you?”

“n-no.”

“you gonna behave now?”

“i’ll try.”

she laughs against your neck.

“cute. too bad i don’t want ‘try.’ i want a 'yes'.”

and then she presses the barrel inside you.

your body jolts like it’s been shocked, the cold metal punching the breath from your lungs. it’s an unnatural stretch, one you've never felt before — not wide, but so precise. so smooth. it doesn’t flex. it doesn’t give. it fills you with the weight of power, the absolute certainty that you are being claimed, not fucked. your muscles clench instinctively, helplessly. the coolness burns as it warms inside you, the safety ridge dragging ever-so-slightly against your entrance, sending jolts up your spine.

ellie’s eyes are locked on your face, watching the transformation. the way your expression flickers from shock to lust to devotion.

she pushes in deeper, not rough, just deliberate. your thighs quiver around her lap. your cunt is already dripping, coating the slick metal in heat and want.

“jesus,” you gasp, nearly choking on it.

ellie grins, her voice a dark ribbon in your ear.

“nah, baby. not him.”

she begins to move. slow, sinful thrusts. the steel slides in and out, obscene and perfect. your slick is making it glide now, every drag sending aftershocks through your belly. it’s mechanical and intimate all at once. humiliating and holy. you’re spread wide on her lap, completely open, held still by her arm wrapped tight around your waist.

“this what you wanted?” she whispers. “you like being used like this?”

you moan. “yes—”

“like my little toy? like a wet fuckin’ hole?”

“yes—yes—”

your hips are rocking now, chasing it. chasing her.

“needy thing,” she breathes. “so fucking desperate. you gonna come like this? on my gun?”

“please, ellie—please—”

she lets out a groan. fucks it into you a little deeper. her free hand wraps around your throat, pulling you upright against her chest. your head falls back and your breath breaks.

“you hear yourself?” she murmurs. “you gonna remember this next time you wanna mouth off.”

she fucks you harder, a little rough now. precise. measured. like she knows every angle of your body, built it with her calloused hands just to use it like this.

you’re shaking.

“say it,” she growls.

“i’m yours,” you sob.

“again.”

“i’m yours—i’m yours—”

and then it hits you — a high so sharp it feels like lightning cracking down your spine. your body spasms. thighs clamp, back arches, a broken sob escaping your lips as you shatter. it’s not just release — it’s surrender. full-body, soul-deep, trembling surrender. you’re crying, and you don’t even realize it. your voice breaks open in a moan that borders on a whimper, like the pleasure was too much for you to carry.

ellie doesn’t stop. she fucks you through it — slow, possessive thrusts, making you feel every inch of the steel inside you, every twitch of your cunt around it, every aftershock that ripples through your core. her mouth is hot on your neck, mouthing filth against your skin like prayers.

“that’s it, baby,” she breathes. “that’s my girl. coming on my fucking gun like you were made for it.”

your body slumps against her, boneless. still twitching. still clenching around nothing when she finally eases the barrel out of you. the drag is slow —so slow— and the loss leaves you whimpering, your cunt fluttering around emptiness, dripping with slick and spit and the remnants of your orgasm.

ellie looks down at you like she’s just unearthed a masterpiece.

“fuck,” she mutters, reverent. “look at this mess.”

your thighs are soaked. your stomach rising and falling like you’ve run for your life. your cheeks are damp, lips parted, eyes barely focused.

she slides the gun slowly along your stomach, your chest, your neck, painting your release on your skin like a signature. deliberate, crude, worshipful.

then she leans in and presses a kiss to your neck — soft, warm, tender in the aftermath.

“mine,” she murmurs.

you nod, dazed. dizzy. your body’s humming. you don’t think you could move if you tried.

and then —slow as a ritual— she lifts the gun to her mouth.

you watch, hypnotized, as her tongue parts her lips. she licks a long, filthy stripe up the length of the barrel, tasting your slick like it’s a holy thing, worshipping the altar of your body even after she’s already made you come undone. her eyes flutter shut for half a second, lashes trembling. she hums low in her throat, a sound that vibrates through your chest like a second orgasm blooming.

and then she parts her lips wider — and takes the barrel into her mouth.

your breath catches. your knees almost give out.

she doesn’t break eye contact. not once.

it slides past her tongue, slow and obscene. her lips wrap around the metal like it’s your cunt she’s sucking. she moans around it, and it’s not just a show—it’s real, messy, shameless want. her spit mixes with your slick, glistening at the corners of her mouth. the sight is nothing short of devastating. your stomach twists.

her free hand slides between your legs, presses two fingers inside you without warning.

you cry out, overstimulated, needy.

“shit.” she says around the barrel, pulling it out with a soft wet pop. “sweetest fucking thing in the world.”

she sets it aside like it’s holy. it’s much more sacred now that it’s been inside you.

then she grips your chin. firm but gentle. tilts your face back so your eyes meet hers — pupils blown, lashes damp, lips trembling.

“get on the bed. gonna fuck you for real now.”

⭒ perm taglist (tysm for supporting, hope you enjoy <3): @talyaisvalslutsoldier @miajooz @andiemiaswife @mayfldss @sewithinsouls @coastalwilliams @hotpinkskitties @ssijht @pleasejoel @pariiissssssss @liddy333 @beeisscaredofbees @d1catwhisperer @the-sick-habit @elliescoquettegirl @elliewilliams-wife @yueluv3rrrr @your-eternal-muse @ellies-real-wife @katherinesmirnova @ellies-moth-to-a-flame @thxtmarvelchick @natscloset @lesbiansreverywhere @2against3 @wwefan2002 @ilahrawr @harmonib @piastorys @azteriarizz @starincarnated @natssgf @ukissmyfaceinacrowdedroom @iadorefineshyt @claudiajacobs @urmomssideh0e @kingofeyeliner @womenlover0 @ferxanda @imunpunishable @elliewilliamsloverrrrrrrr @bambi-luvs @maru0uu @mikellie @gold-dustwomxn @nramv

࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ PURE. FILTH. IM SHOKED WITH MYSELF. THE PARTS OF A GUN TAB IS STARING AT ME. AND JUDGING. huge HUGE HUGE love and tysm to my gorg mootie who sent this amazing request before i even started collide—you live in my brain rent free forever bby!

i might play around with a few more fics + requests before launching the next big series i’ve been outlining (👀), so stay tuned babes. ily all dearly ♡

credits for divider: @kodaswrld <3 – images from pinterest - edited by me

[lilicanssecretstudy]

You love your trans girlfriend. She's adorable and smart and all around amazing... The only problem is her cock.

She's not on hrt yet and despite training her body to have curves that would make even cis women jealous... Her throbbing horse cock is impossible to manage. Everytime she slams that thing into you, it feels like your cervix is going to break. But you fight off unconscious because her face while shoving her 10 inches of girl cock into you is amazing.

When she finally gets on hrt, you're so happy for the shrinking, maybe you wouldn't have to use an entire bottle of lube to survive her bitchbreaker now!

Your eyes open again and immediately the feeling of the entrance to your womb being hit makes you cum, what's happening? Isn't she supposed to shrink? Wait... She said something about a new formula? Is her cock bigger now!?!

She's holding your arms to help line up her massive thrusts, her girthy balls churn with nutsludge as you look down and see a bruise forming on your stomach as she slams her massive horse cock into your womb.

You keep falling unconscious and waking up again, a puddle is soaking into the sheets from the countless times you've squirted around her massive goddess cock.

She owns you now, your brain is broken, she's not your girlfriend, she's your owner and you're a Fleshlight now... You cum to that realization as she unloads a gallon of thick ballsnot into your stretched cunt <3