#black hand towel ring

[hxcgirl666]

Bathroom - Powder Room Inspiration for a small timeless brown tile travertine floor powder room remodel with a two-piece toilet, gray walls and a pedestal sink

[pixelatedsnuggles]

Bathroom - Powder Room Inspiration for a small timeless brown tile travertine floor powder room remodel with a two-piece toilet, gray walls and a pedestal sink

[mrkng]

Bathroom - Powder Room Inspiration for a small traditional powder room remodel with travertine flooring, a two-piece toilet, and gray walls and a pedestal sink.

[satrs]

ATTENTION.

✎ A/N; They got me y'all. The voices told me to do this I'm telling youuu!!!! Did I do the ripping part in both Sylus' and Rafayel's intentionally? Yes, yes I did. SUE ME!!!

SYNOPSIS; surprising them in lingerie!

FEATURING; Sylus, Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier x fem!reader (l&ds)

TAGS; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI! s€xual intercourse. Teasing. Unprotected intercourse. Dirty talk. mating press(Sylus). blindfolding. pü$$yjob. (xavier). slightt dumbification(rafayel). cunnilingus. overstim. (Zayne)

WK;4.2k.

♡ SYLUS

"Take a picture, it'll last longer", you tease the white haired man who cranes his neck in your direction, bloody eyes examining your attire.

"I might."

A giggle escapes you in response to Sylus. He can't help but let a sly smirk creep up his lips, scanning your black stilettos up to your red lingerie, the polished red gemstones decorating your cleavage, and adding the cherry on top.

You cage wine-red lips between your teeth as you lift your hand to rest on his naked chest, droplets of water indicating his previous shower, your band of rubies slightly slipping down your tender wrist in the process.

Raising his eyebrows at your action, he watches you raise on the tips of your toes, your hot breath fanning across his neck as you whisper into his ear. "I think I'll go change."

Change? Change now, after you dolled yourself up just for him (quickly, for that matter) whilst he took a shower? Definitely not happening.

He manages to take hold of your arm with a questionable look on his face. "Oh, please", he begins, intrigue causing his silver brows to twitch, "The party's already done? What a shame."

The innocent expression on your face only sparked excitement in him- and his pants, a sly smirk exposing his motive as he takes careful steps to your shared bed until he sits on the edge, dark orbs still asserting dominance even though he’s looking up at your captivating form.

You giggle in response, and he doesn't miss your delicate hands gliding down his exposed chest, finding comfort in the towel wrapped around his waist.

"Do tell," he continues, his intense glare roaming over every part of your body, followed by his hands finding comfort on your rear. "What are the stilettos for?"

Pointing his chin towards your hidden surprise, you’re quick to follow up with a swift movement of your leg, pushing him down his back carefully with your heel before seating your covered pusssy on his growing bulge. as you bite back, "to keep you in check."

A glint of amusement dances across the man's features as he scoffs at your pathetic attempt of dominance, giving a firm squeeze to your behind, earning a yelp from your lips. "We’ll see about that."

Before you can even think of a cheeky retort, he smashes his lips against yours in haste, sighing into your mouth as if it's been a lifetime since he last had a taste of you.

His digits creep around your spine to take hold of the back of your neck, swiftly but carefully pushing you on the king sized bed, your back hitting the cold touch of the silken sheets.

He smashes his lips against yours, swallowing your sounds eagerly, hastily fumbling with your lingerie before a loud rip! Sound echoes through the room.

You let out a gasp in realization, ready to scold the man for his animalistic behavior, tragically failing to do so once he teases your exposed space.

“I’ll buy you a new one. Two, even.” He grunts between kisses, digits fumbling to get rid of his towel, grinding your cunt down on his exposed length as if his life depended on it. “Hell, I’ll buy the whole store.”

Within a blink of an eye, you already feel his bulky, fat tip nudging at your puckering hole, pushing past the tight ring of muscle with a low, resonant growl as he swiftly swings your legs over his shoulders.

Whining at his ridiculously bulky head engulfed in your snug hole, you try to close your legs in a desperate attempt to escape the astonishing stretch of his thick length. "Sy, I wanted to- ngh!, W-wanted to be on top."

"Don't be ridiculous, honey", he interrupts before smashing his hips harshly against yours, fully burying his pulsating cock inside your pussy, "You don't mean that", His slender fingers spread your glistering folds apart, in awe at the sight of you swallowing his cock with each push of his hips.

Ecstatic is how to describe your current state, low hanging eyes clouded in the thick mist of pleasure as you watch him ram into you helplessly, your legs danging off his shoulders as he pushes you further and further into a mean mating press.

You can see his tip nudging your lower belly, prominent dent apearing and dissapearing again, causing you to claw at his beefy arm, trying to slow his movement down, only to be smacked away with a scoff.

"Awww, baby. Don't give up just yet. You still got to 'keep me in check', no?" You whine as your orgasm hits you in surprise, letting out a loud cry of his name as your pussy spasms all over his pelvis.

Once you saw that fat grin on his face that you would've loved to slap off his face, you know your fucked. Maybe you even knew that from the start. But,

"There's no backing out now, kitten."

♡ XAVIER

"Can I look?"

"Wait!"

He sighs, impatiently tapping his foot on the floor, trying to adjust to the darkness covering his eyes. How long is this childish game going to take? Why won't you just let him see you?

"C'mon, wanna see you." You chuckle at his whiny plea as you step closer to him, seated on the couch, reaching out to grasp his hand in yours.

"Just be patient. You will." his composer tenses once he feels his fingers grazing the lace material adoring your soft skin and fuck, his dick twitches in his pants in pain as he imagines how you look right now in all of your glory, body decorated in seducing lace. "It's white, you know. Just how you like it."

Strength, that's what he needs—because he doesn't know how much longer he can play this game of yours before he might die.

"You won't die, silly." A hue of red adores his face in embarrassment, groaning at your light chuckle once he realizes he just said that out loud.

In light of the moment, he takes the chance and grasps at the flesh of your ass, causing you to gasp. "Please", he begs, his hand pushing you further towards him until he faces your tummy, "I w-want to- need to see you."

A shudder runs down your spine as he places wet kisses all over your exposed skin, an unoccupied hand cupping a feel of your clothed breast, earning a lustful pur from you in return.

You don't miss the sly smirk spread across his face once you push him deeper into the couch, his back hitting the rest in acceptance of defeat.

"I told you to be-"

"Patient, yes. You know I can't stand waiting when it comes to you, love." You sigh, trying your best to retain your sounds by caging your lips between your teeth, and you're thankful that he can't see your contorting expressions from his shameless hands roaming over every inch of your body. Yet.

"It's rude to interrupt someone while they're talking, you know." Your words come out hollow, not even fully reaching his ear, because all he could focus on were your hands freeing his aching cock from its restraint, his tip slightly nudging at your now exposed pussy, laced panties pushed to the side.

At that moment, his head falls back, a frustrated groan roaring from his lungs, a hard grip on your hips as he rocks your body on top of his, your wet folds adoring his shaft in the glistering essence of your sweet nectar, the warmth of your heat causing him to whine, longing to see and feel the full extent of your addicting pussy.

"Y-you're making it hard for me, you know." He notices the slight waver in your voice, and he also notices your hand gliding along the back of his neck, up, up, up until your finger hooks under the blindfold, giving into his endless pleas.

All he can manage to choke out is a gluttonous "F-fuckkk", as he, finally, sees what you've been holding back from him. And sight behold, it's even better than he could've ever imagined.

You can feel his dick twitching between the mold of your folds once you release the blindfold from his face, letting it dangle down at his neck, slightly pulling him closer by it until your lips were inches apart.

As you admire his pussy-drunk gaze, you notice his glossy eyes, kissing away the dried trail of tears running down his cheeks.

His eyes stay glued between your legs as you halt for a moment to align his angered tip at your excited hole, before you snap him out of his trance by firmly gripping at the blindfold.

"Like what you see?", you tease, words falling onto deaf ears as you sink down onto his length, his hands quick to lift you from his cock before harshly slamming you down again, catching you off guard.

"Fuck yeah."

♡ RAFAYEL

"Oh?"

His voice rings in the thick, clouded air, the filled with lust. With the quick movement of his eyes, scanning every inch of your body and the tight lace hugging your figure so deliciously, he can't help but wet his lips.

"Oh." The man's tone is low, seductive even, his hungry eyes devouring your very being. That's a surprise, alright.

This feels like a dream; with each step you take towards him in the massive pool, his head spins and dizziness overcomes his senses.

The water soon reaches your upper body as you begin to swim towards the man, all under a watchful eye.

In an act of malice, you decide to dive underneath the water, out of sight of his predatory gaze. Or, so you thought.

Gaze, not wavering from your silouette, swimming closer and closer to his spot, amused grimace coming to light as you emerge from the dark water, just to poke your head to the surface.

"Careful now." He warns at your greedy touch against his body, fingers hooking under the waistband of his shorts to mess with him, " What? I'm just testing the waters."

He chuckles at that, arms lifting you as you instinctively wrap your legs around his slutty waist. "The waters you're testing are deep, you know."

You smirk at his words, your arms caging him in place as they lock around his neck, eyes gazing into his, radiating pure lust and desire. "Deeper than you fucking me?"

You've done it now.

A flip switches inside him instantly, breath turning ragged while his hands are busy freeing his aching cock, impatiently, ripping your adored bikini, exposing your cunt to the cold pool water.

You protest, whining as he holds the pair of panties up in victory, examining them while balancing you on one strong arm. "Couldn't see shit from afar", he begins, his tongue poking out to lick across his lips.

"Looks wonderful on you, baby. Heavenly, even. But right now, I'd rather see you," releasing the fabric that covered your tits in rapid motion, he throws them behind him without care before resuming, "-naked."

"Sorry, you were saying?", His brought-up innocence, causes your brows to knit in frustration, soon disappearing once he bullies his entire cock deep into you. "Oh yeah, I remember. Something about me fucking you, right?"

The wail that you let out only earns you a twitch of his pulsating cock inside your comforting heat, repeated thrusts of his causing the water to shudder from his crude movements.

Nodding hastily, your nails clamp down on his shoulders - trying to adjust to his rapid movement with your body bouncing up and down up and-

"Hellooo, anyone up there?"

If you could, you would wipe that snarky smirk right off his face, but you couldn't. You couldn't even protest as his hands followed up to your head right after, a light knock against your forehead with his index finger.

"Hm? My girl's turning all dumb when she wanna come, yeah?" Strong arms trap you in a strong hold, his hips rutting into you at a ridiculously fast pace, his hands spreading your ass cheeks apart, nudging your gushy spot repeatedly as you threaten to come undone in his hold.

"Tell me, baby. Tell me you wanna cum, wanna hear my girl say it." he mumbles against your kiss-bitten lips, a slight stutter escaping him at the delicious squeeze of your cock-drunk pussy. "M-hm, 'm so close, soso- oh nghhh!"

Displeased with your answer, he clicks his tongue, his slender fingers threading their way between your legs to squeeze your clit meanly between his fingers. "O-ohhww! Hnghh!"

"Nuh uhhh. Say it and you'll get to cum, silly girl." You spill whine after whine from your lips, legs shaking in sync with the water.  "W-wanna cum, need ta' nghhh pleaseee- Oh!"

Incoherent nonsense rushes past your lips, and before you even realize it, you're coming undone in his arms.

Silent cries of his name fly over his head, his whole attention focused on you. From your widened eyes to your mouth hanging open, all the way to the squeeze of your plush walls, begging him to fill you to the brim.

And he does.

At his wits end, his hips stutter into yours with one last pathetic thrust. Fat chunks of white spurted into you, followed by a broken wail from him. "Y-yeahh that's my girl. Take it all. That'sss it."

You crash your lips on his, moans drowning in the hot mess. With your head laid against his heaving chest, eyes scrunched together as you came down from your high.

"C'mon, baby", he snaps you out of your daze, hazy eyes gawking at you. And, oh - you know this look all too well.

Biting your lips in excitement, he hoists you up until his dick slips out of you in quick motion, a slight hiss from him indicating his impatience.

The cold breeze engulfs your bodies as you leave the pool, your arms clinging to his neck in seek of warmth. With his quick feet, he hurries to reach the inside.

"You know we ain't done yet."

♡ ZAYNE

"You should've told me," His breath hitches against your neck, pampering your neck with kisses, hands groping your flesh. "I would've, w-would've got off earlier."

"Where'd be the fun in that?" you tease, trying to hide your smirk, your fingers delicately brushing through his dark strands, and fuck, you could cum by just looking at his lustful expression.

His hair messy and face lost in complete bliss, with his eyes screaming that he's hungry for more. And who could blame him?

Exactly, no one.

"Fuckin' hell", he mutters under his breath as you climb on top of him, laced panties hovering just above his face.

Hell, he'll for sure just might end up there if he doesn't get a taste of you in the next three seconds.

"What are you waiting for, darling?", His fingers dig deep into the flesh of your hips, forcing your hips further down, and he can't believe his eyes. Your juices bleed through the dark lace. You little minx.

Three.

He stops in his tracks at the faint whiff of your juices hitting his nostrils, squeezing your hips so tight that your flesh spills from the gaps of his fingers.

Two.

"Well?", you snap him out of his trance, catching his gaze. Your fingers brush through his strands before firmly gripping them, his lips mere inches away from your leaking hole, "What are you waiting for?"

Fuck that last second.

Shameless and dirty. Two words you'd never expected tohear with your Zayne in a sentence.

It's downright nasty, how his tongue is lapping and sucking your lips through the fabric, teeth teasingly grazing against your clit earning a gasp from you.

"Pull it off, can't wait. I gotta taste you." Zayne is fast, fingers hooking under the fabric to reveal your glistering cunt with a hungry growl, "All of you."

"S-so impatient." Shaky voice betraying yourself as your fingers tangle in his dark roots, offering him the dark blue lace that does a poor job of covering your crotch, thighs twitching in his hold.

"Please, darling", wavering voice whispers against your hidden folds, your sweet nectar reaching his nose once he hooks his finger under the flimsy fabric, pushing it to the side to gawk at your exposed cunt, glistering.

He breathes in, heart rapidly beating in his chest in anticipation, before he stops himself with one deep, threatening growl. "Fuckin' sit."

With that, he firmly grips your hips, smashing you down on his awaiting mouth. The gasp that leaves you only eggs him on, making out with your lips as if it were his last meal.

And it might be, if he continues to push you down further and further, his tongue already pushing past your tight walls, eager to taste more of you.

Humming into your heat as he gazes up at your contorted expressions, the plush of your thighs nearly suffocating him. Not that he’d mind, of course.

„Mhm, take it.“ His words are muffled against your puffy folds, barely reaching your ears. If you even heard him over the squelching sound of the wet mess beneath you, that is.

Big, beefy hands take a firm hold on your ass, squeezing the flesh tightly in his embrace. Groaning into your heat, he musters up his strength to rock your cunt over his face, ears perking up at your increase in volume.

You feel hot blood rushing through your veins as each breath of air gets heavier and hotter by any minute, his tongue lavishly exploring your tight tunnel.

His keen movement yearns for your release, growing more desperate in his movements. He just can't help himself, really. "Quit, squirmin', " He just barely lifts your hips, his words scrambling against your heat before he resumes to his meal, slightly biting down onto your poor clit in warning.

Your surprised squeal only eggs him on further. Mouth working faster, nastier, downright making out with your cunt shamelessly, even going as far as spelling his name over and over again.

Z-A-Y-N-E-Z-A-Y-N-E-Z-

„I‘m s-so- close! Fuck!“ As those words leave your mouth, a sudden euphoric wave overtakes you, and you gush all over the man's face, his face shining in your juices as he eagerly slurps up every bit you offer him.

Humming in content, his hand rips against the flesh of your ass, faint paint of red adoring your behind, before his strong arms swiftly throw you onto your back, leaving you in pure bliss from your orgasm.

But before you can notice the switch in position, his mouth is back on your cunt, hands now roaming over your body, making sure to trace the adorable cerulean lace, even going as far as sneaking through your bra to get a feel of your soft chest.

This is so strange, so unlike him- Zayne, the usually chill and composed man, full of self-control and diligence, now rutting his hips against the bed in impatient thrusts, all kinds of mumbles and groans lost between your spread thighs.

"'S too much, just hold on, Zayne!"

The overstimulation catching up to you, a string of electricity running down your spine as you try to escape his firm grip by wiggling, thighs squeezing tightly around his head - anything. But just from his warning glare, you knew it was impossible.

Sure, your legs are just about to give out on you, your poor, abused pussy pulsated non-stop, and you could already see the shining stars threatening to litter your vision.

It's too much, but it also feels all too good, maybe a little too well. With trembling fingers, you reach for his hair, contemplating whether to push him away or pull him impossibly closer. Now it was up to him to choose.

Zayne's resonated voice is already answer enough, face lifting from the cavity of your fluttering heat. His mouth completely covered in your slick, his grin completely catching you off guard.

He's placing a last, sloppy kiss right at the crown of your clit for good measure. Heavy breath brushing against your abandoned clit, causing a shiver to creep up your spine, before he's leaving a trace of wet kisses up your belly, eyes not leaving yours even once.

"You know I can't do that, darling. I'm not even halfway done with you yet."

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[thetwinsofevil]

Powder Room in Austin A medium-sized transitional gray tile powder room with a ceramic tile floor and white walls, shaker cabinets, medium-tone wood cabinets, and an undermount sink is shown.

[eternalsunrise]

shower talk.

deadpool (wade wilson) x f!reader

wc: 750 (drabble)

tags! established relationship, sexual & murder references (duh)

notes! wade brainrot is so bad idk, logan fic coming soon pls forgive me

wade often barges into the bathroom while you’re in the shower just to sit on the toilet seat and rant about the mission he just went on, or even to ask what takeout you want for dinner. couldn’t it wait until you had clothes on? sure, but he wants to talk to you now.

unexpectedly, you decide to take a page out of his playbook.

you’ve just walked in the door after your 9-5, throwing your keys and bag haphazardly across the room in frustration. you spy the familiar rumpled up red and black suit on the floor, wade was home. you had complained last week about deadpool tracking blood into the apartment after his “work.” it seemed your boyfriend had listened and obliged. if it weren’t for your bad day, the image of him cupping his crotch as he scrambled naked into the bathroom would’ve made you smile.

you hear the water still running, but you finally understand how wade feels, this can’t wait. you open the bathroom door and throw the toilet lid down, unsure if wade even heard you enter over the sound of his own voice belting hall and oates’ greatest hits.

you sit down and let out an overdramatic sigh. your boyfriend’s voice quiets down halfway through “out of touch”

“honey bear? you’re home! these stab wounds will heal in about two minutes then you can join me. i know how you feel about seeing intestines, and i don’t want to make you gag…well scratch that i do sometimes—“

“i fucking hate men.”

you hear the sound of the shower curtain opening slightly, and wade’s head peaks out, looking at you with wide eyes, “woah language, babydoll! you know degradation turns me on.” his head tilts to the side, noticing the distress written on your face “but i have a feeling this isn’t about me…”

you spare him a narrowed glance, then watch as his head disappears. the curtain closes and you hear the water hit skin again as he resumes his shower. he’s giving you time to speak. remarkable.

“you remember that guy i told you about? the one that gave me major creep vibes? and was just an all around dick?”

you get a hum in response, and you can’t see it, but you know wade is physically biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything. it’s endearing in a way.

you rub your face with your hands, the memory of what you’re about to say lights the fire of anger again, “well. guess who got that promotion i was being eyed for? i’ll give you a hint, it’s not someone with a vagina! and on top of that, i saw him try to look under my skirt as i was leaving! that fuck.”

you almost regretted telling him that last part, knowing where this was going. but your mind was clouded by frustration, and the water was already turned off. the rings screech against the metal shower rod as wade throws the curtain open, reaching over your head for a towel. “okay sweet thing. where does this cock suck and fuck live?”

your eyes catch a glimpse of red turning pink as it swirled into the tub drain. you shake your head, suddenly realizing the severity of what your mercenary boyfriend was implying. “no no babe please it’s not that serious! and you just got home. not to mention if people found out, you’d get in so much trouble all because of something silly that happened to me and—“

a long finger is placed over your lips. you’re eye level with wade’s v line, partially covered by the towel now wrapped around his waist. you trail your eyes upward, locking them with the one who interrupted your rambling.

“shhh. nonsense kitten. now. you’re going to tell me this guy’s address, and i’m going to go out for…” wade uses his free arm to look at a make believe watch, “hmm, about an hour. while i’m gone, you’re going to change out of this sexy pantsuit. then have a glass of wine, and touch yourself while you think of me fondly. i’ll grab dinner on the way home. yes?”

when you nod with wide eyes in agreement, he removes his finger, bending down to meet your face, “atta girl.” he praises as his lips graze your own, kiss light as a feather. he clears his throat then, patting your cheek a few times as he stands up to walk out of the bathroom. whistling as if murder was all in a day’s work (you suppose for him it is)

you sit there stunned, wondering if you just got your coworker murdered….and why you were so turned on.

[evilgwrl]

Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (One)

CW: Mutual masturbation ;)

Inspired by Neighbour!Simon

Chapter Two

Your legs perched up across the woven strings of the porch chair, knees littered with blue and black kisses, knotted joints tucked into your chest as you watched the peak of gold settle into a deep blue. Bony fingers laced the pages between parched hands, eyes darting maliciously between words as you hummed to yourself softly.

You were used to being out here alone, an orchestra of bats occasionally sounding out to you as they scurried away into pine trees, nipping between each other.  Your flat, a smaller duplex, was tucked away into a quiet cul-de-sac, away from the hustle and bustle of London life. It was an organised routine, your body succumbing to the night air as you bathed in the comforting atmosphere of the twilight. There was an occasional hum from up the road, the chug of a car passing through, but your interest peaked when the gravel road lit up, headlights streaming towards you as you shielded your eyes.

The sound of the engine frightened you a bit before you adjusted your vision. A large shadow stepped into view, the staggering height of a man peaking your attention before you took in the balaclava flushed against his face, russet eyes covered by a delicate frame of blonde lashes, stained with black face paint staring at you before dropping his head in a curt nod.

You recognised him as your neighbour. Quiet bloke, away often on deployment you presumed, but nether-the-less was a comfort for you. Even at home, it was like he was never there, the occasional echo of hollow boots sounding against the floorboards before they disappeared. He was ghostly, slightly peculiar but you noted him down mainly as mysterious.

You had spoken a few times, sounding good morning as he was outside having a smoke when you were leaving for work. His response was gruff and shallow, a deep voice barking out a short reply before smashing the dart under the rubble of his shoe, calloused hands gripping the door handle.

He walked past you, duffle bag dropped against the porch as he huffed with his keys, bruised knuckles peaking your attention as you glanced at him, framed eyes peering in curiosity.

“Y’ alright?” His tone was curt, a hint of annoyance ringing through as his eyes stained trained on the metal knob, working the key through the hole.

You squeaked out a noise, taken back by him as you adjusted in the chair, feet flat against the floor now. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just not used to you being here, it’s uh, nice for you to be back, less lonely,” you rambled, shuffling your hands awkwardly before you shut yourself up.

He let out a grunt, the noise almost animalistic sounding as he shut the door, his vague appearance shuffling into the quiet of his own home as you sat outside, whispering an expletive under your breath as you prodded at the ecchymosis on your nobbled knees.

Rough hands rubbed at the face paint, gentle soap working into the scorn skin, thickened skin almost melting under the velocity of the scolding water. Simon’s throat was scratchy, the irritating feeling of sandpaper lining his oesophagus as he choked out a cough. Broken blood vessels littered across the scarring of his back and ribs, a splurge of hematoma drawn across the broken skin.

Ivory skin was now painted with falling droplets of water, a scratchy moose-coloured towel adorned his hips as he shook his hair, moist residue landing on the mirror as he rubbed his hands across his face, a soft moan leaving his lips as he prodded the tender knot in his back.  

His home felt foreign, no matter how long he had lived there for.

His bedroom had dusk lighting, a double bed pushed against the flaky walls, the metal rods holding the frame scraping at the paint. A singular pillow to each side perked up against his touch as he layered them, unused linen welcoming him with a slight dusty smell, aching body collapsing into the plushness of the duvet.

He was aware that your bedroom was adjacent to his, your beds pushed directly together on opposite ends. He could hear the subtle creaks of your feet against the floor as you shuffled around, a chair squeaking across the floor as it collided with something before the noise of you walking sounded again. Simon could hear the springs in your bed, an acknowledgement that you were now lying down.

There was a low hum of a fan whirring, the white noise drifting into his room as he stared up at his own, the stagnant noise felt unorthodox, the familiarity of the barracks being the usual for the Lieutenant. Simon’s hands felt weighed down as he moved them from his chest to rest at his side, his breathing shallow as his ears perked at every movement you made.

You were restless, sweaty body tangled between cotton as you adjusted yourself, flinging your blankets off you as you let out gentle pants. You cursed at the lack of air conditioning available in British homes, peeling off your silken pyjama shorts as you flung them somewhere across your bedroom. Your body was hot and achy, the heat settling in even during the night as you turned to the side, beady eyes watching as the wind flickered the branches occasionally. You were tempted to sleep outside at this point, your room feeling like a sauna as you let out a frustrated quip.

There was a subtle ache between your thighs, a dull throbbing ringing through your brain as you attempted to position yourself better, clicking your calves as you rustled around. Tired arms stretched your top over your head as it too met the wraith of your floor, bare breasts perked against your sheets as you closed your eyes, cuddling up against a pillow.

Slumber never succumbed to your heated frame, the drill of your fan almost teasing you as it provided minimum cooling. You spread your legs, sweat prickling over your stretch marks as you moaned in annoyance. Your fingers trailed your slit through the thin fabric, turquoise-coloured panties fading into an aqua as you let out a shaky breath. You felt dirty, the dull throb of your cunt mocking you as needy fingers hooked into the lace, dragging them down the plushness of your thighs before settling at the end of your bed.

You fumbled around in your draw, clumsy fingers feeling around for your bullet vibrator before they rubbed against the silicone. You were sure to be quiet, your hands covering the majority of the vibrations as you nestled it between your folds, collecting the sweetness of your slick before resting it on your achy clit, an instant moan rising at your throat as you tweaked at your nipples.

The hum against your sex wasn’t enough as you sat up, resting the vibrator on your swollen nub as you straddled a pillow, sloppy pussy grinding against it rapidly as you rutted like a dog in heat, chasing your high.

You were a sight for sore eyes, breasts bouncing at your movements as you humped against the cushion, the cheap sex toy sounding against the bundle of nerves as you let out soft whimpers, mouth opened in an ‘o’ shape as you tugged at your hardened nubs that were practically aching against your chest.

It was like you were going through puberty again, squishy sounds squelching from your cunt at the licentious actions, hips getting sloppy as you felt your coil forming, antagonising moans dripping from your lips as you stilled, the silicone pressed sweetly into your clit as you whined into your hand, orgasm ripping through you as you jutted away from the stimulation, collapsing into a heap.

Simon frowned at how quickly your noises were over as a spit-covered cock throbbed in agony, veiny hands jutting around the angry member as he milked himself to the memory of your orgasm, hot splashes of cum spurting against his belly, a thick trail of hair leading down to his softening cock as he cleaned himself up before nestling into the comfort of his sheets and the barely audible hum of your breathing.

[monster-disaster]

[tentacle] The monster under the shower

tentacle!monster x human!Reader Good to know: slightly dub-con

Summary: The resort is full of surprises.

White puffs of steam follow your way out of the cabin until you close the wooden door with a soft click. Your grip on the white towel around your body tightens as you look around. The pool is calm but busy, not far from where you are standing. Humans and monsters enjoy the pleasant water of the pools while others lay on their towels or chairs, sunbathing. The sun is bright and warm at the top of the clear blue sky, and despite the hot temperature, you feel almost cold after spending a few minutes in the sauna. A thin layer of sweat shines on your heated skin.

Soon, you tear your gaze away from the others to make your way to the small stalls of showers at the back. As you step into one of them, you let the thin curtain separate you from the outside world. The towel gets loose around your body, and you hang it over the white-tiled wall.

Pouring some soap into your hands, you start lathering yourself up, covering your body in small bubbles. You rub the citrus-smelling lotion over your skin, rubbing your muscles and washing away the sweat and sand. Your hair sticks to your back in wet strands. Drops of water run down your face, cooling you down after being under the sun and in the sauna most of the day.

You keep your eyes closed as you slowly relax with a hum in your throat. Your fingers brush through your hair, drawing small circles on your skin to massage your scalp. Small goosebumps run over your body at the feeling.

The quiet melody coming from your closed lips soon gets interrupted by the sudden noise at your feet. A frown tugs your brows together as you look down. You feel the still running water washing away the shampoo from the top of your head. The foam follows the line of your spine. The sound comes from the drain. It gets louder and louder until the metallic noise stops, and you meet silence. "Okay," you hum, unsure. You will inform someone about the noise later.

Just as you look down again, something black emerges from the drain. Your heart jumps up to your throat, and you are ready to grab your towel and leave as fast as you can when the thing shoots out and curls around your ankles. The thick tentacle slams against your skin, keeping you in place. The sudden force is almost enough to make you lose your balance. "Fuck!" You cry out, trying to shake off the thing, but it only tightens around you. "Hey!" You gasp out again, bracing yourself against the wall when your legs part without your consent. It creeps up on your legs, not letting you move even for an inch. The thing is soft and slimy on your wet skin. As it moves, it feels like a gentle caress. "It's enough!" You break the silence again. "Let me go!" To be honest, you are more annoyed than afraid. You know the reputation of the resort. Things can happen here. That's why people come here in the first place.

Despite your attempts to get free from the monster, you feel yourself getting wetter with every centimeter as the tentacles slip closer and closer to your center. You can feel the tips grazing your folds. One of them rubs your clit while the other teases your center. Gasping, you tug on your leg again, but this time, you try to find a more comfortable position. Annoyance still bubbles in your chest, but the desire in your lower stomach is stronger. You feel the familiar cramp of need jerking your muscles with anticipation. Every flick on your clit radiates through your nerve, running up your spine and twisting your world. The tentacle on your other leg is at your entrance, teasing but never pushing into you. "What are you waiting for?" You grunt, groaning. Impatience shimmers in your voice which soon turns into a startled scream. The thing does as you want. It pushes inside you, stretching you out and filling you up. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs, and the rings of the curtain pop under the tug as you try to stay on your feet. The fabric barely hides you anymore, but this is the last thing you worry about. The tentacles wrap tighter around your legs, leaving red marks on your skin. Meanwhile, your pussy is still fucked and filled. Loud grunts and moans escape your lips with every thrust. The forceful motions burn your walls and push you higher and higher. Stars dance behind your eyelids whenever you blink. Your cunt throbs with pleasure. It sears through your veins. Your orgasm is fast and ravishing. The tentacles fucking your pussy and teasing your clit are the only things that keep you from falling. Your walls flutter and pulse as you make a mess on the already slimy limb.

When you win back your senses, the tentacles are already gone, and the water is still running, drumming on your sensitive skin. Your legs shake, and you need a few minutes to wash yourself down again and wrap the towel around your body. Your heart still throbs in your throat, and for a second, you aren't even sure if you only imagined the whole thing or it really happened.

When you pull the curtain out of the way, the young woman who greeted you at the reception when you arrived a few days ago is a few meters away from you with fresh towels in her arms and a knowing smirk on her face.

- Masterlist Mirage Resort Masterlist Patreon

[zyafics]

DIRTY AIR | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (oneshot) | x Maybank!Female Reader

Summary — When Rafe wants you as a late-night booty call, you’re going to make him work for it. Word Count. 2.2K.

Content — 18+, smut, lots of banter, sexting, fingering, oral (female receiving), and the usual Maybank-Rafe tension. Reader is a bitch, a tease, stubborn, dominant, and uses a dab pen.

lıllılı Breathe (Rap Version) by Blu Cantrell, Sean Paul

When you exit the shower, you receive a text from Rafe.

RC: come over

It's not surprising that he's texting you at this hour. It's half past ten and Rafe is always in a horny mood. You roll your eyes as you type your reply.

You: no thanks

RC: i haven't seen u in forever

You: yeah? and how does that make you feel?

RC: don't be a bitch

You: ur the one texting me

You pause, fingers dancing over the keypad, before deciding to add: show me how much you miss me

You don't get an immediate response, but you don't care, dropping your phone onto the desk, and looking at your reflection through the vanity. The towel covers your body, your hair dripping wet from the recent wash, and your face fresh from makeup.

As you ponder on what to do next, whether you should do a new coat of black polish, your phone buzzes on the desk. Your eyes glance down at the preview, noting it's a photo from Rafe.

A dick pic.

The shot captures his cock fisted in his hand, in the darkness of his bedroom, and the fine muscles of his thighs on display. You feel a pulse of desire shoot to your core.

A text follows: better?

You bite your bottom lip, holding back a smile, and contemplate your response.

You: it isn't worse

RC: fuck off

RC: do u need a ride?

You: i don't remember saying yes

RC: are u serious

You: how do i know that wasn't already loaded on your phone?

The next photo came quickly. This time, in the same position, Rafe sends a picture with his middle finger up, signet ring glistening. You laugh.

RC: ur turn

Just before you can tease him further, another text follows: if i gotta fuck my hand tn, at least give me something to jerk off to

You can't stop the grin from rising on your lips, shaking your head, and deciding, for once—just this once—you'll be agreeable.

Dropping your towel to the floor, you stand in front of your mirror with nothing but a pair of panties loosely around your hips. You angle the camera in front of the reflection, using one arm to cover your tits. Then, you snap the photo and click send.

The response is instantaneous.

RC: take off ur arm.

You: cant, my tits are meant to be experienced live

RC: ur killing me here

You: poor boy

RC: how am i supposed to jerk off to that

You: use ur imagination

RC: i’d rather have u here

You: is that supposed to be romantic

RC: fuck romance i wanna fuck

You: keep going cameron, i’m swooning

RC: ykw, fuck it, i'm coming over

Your heart stutters and you quickly type a response: no you can't

But you don't receive a reply.

Minutes pass but the text remains unread. Half of you want to pick up the phone and call him but decided against it. It's stupid. You won't be the first to submit. He's not going to take this much energy from you. If Rafe does show up, you simply won't answer the door.

You resume your nightly routine. Changing into an old shirt and shorts, you take a final hit from your dab pen, and just as you're about to head off to bed, a knock on your door reveals JJ.

"What?" You greet your little brother, despite not seeing him the entire day. At least he's home safe.

"I just got back from the Chateau," he informs, causing your brows to pull together.

"Congrats?"

"Thanks," he leans against the wall next to your doorway, right beside your desk, "and guess who I met waiting outside our house?"

Your shoulders drop. "He isn't."

"He is," JJ declares with an obnoxious click of his tongue, shaking his head in that little brother shake of disapproval, but not having any real authority to change the circumstance. "He offered me twenty bucks to convince you to meet him."

You squint your eyes at him. "Did you take it?"

"Of course," JJ holds up the folded twenty between his fingertips and you scoff. "You're gonna meet him anyways. If the Kook's throwing away free money, might as well take it."

You shake your head at him, but truth be told, you would do the same. "You have no loyalty."

"Am I wrong?"

"Yes," you affirm stubbornly, now having another reason not to go to Rafe. "I'm not going to see him."

"That's not what he's saying."

"What? You and Rafe gossiping about me now?"

"Yeah, we're best buds now," he draws sarcastically, before pushing himself off the wall and knocking his knuckles against your desk, as if to test how solid the wood is, before pulling back. "Whatever you do, just don't fuck in the house. The walls are thin and I'd rather not hear you getting freaky."

He walks away, without closing the door, and you yell after him, "Yeah, and remember that whenever you invite Kie over!"

JJ doesn't say anything, flipping you off, but you laugh, and knowing without a doubt that your brother is carrying a similar expression. When JJ leaves, you grab your phone nearby on your nightstand. Still, no text. You wonder if Rafe truly believed JJ was going to fulfill his promise and drag you out of the house.

You decided to test it.

You: ur little plan didn't work

RC: maybe

You: my brother doesn't like u

RC: and i don't like him

You: then why are u here?

RC: thought i made that clear

You: go ask one of ur other girls

RC: nah

The chat bubble comes up before disappearing. Finally, a text comes through: none of them are u

You can't stop the swarm of butterflies from fluttering in your stomach and you hate how easily you fall for his words. Rafe's nothing but a casual fuck, which you're using a little too often, and you decide to push back.

You: i'm not coming outside

RC: maybe

You: i'm going to sleep

RC: then why are u still texting me

You lock your jaw, hating the flush rising to your cheeks from being called out. You decide not to entertain a response, dropping your phone on the nightstand, facing up, and snuggle into your blanket. You're about to close your eyes but the bedroom door remains open.

There's something aggravating about its presence that, with a huff, you throw your comforter off your body and march up to the door to slam it close, flooding the room into complete darkness. When you're about to go back to bed, the tiny space lights up from a notification on your phone.

RC: are u really going to sleep?

You: u thought i was bluffing?

RC: nah, but i just imagined it would be hard

You: why?

RC: because once u close ur eyes, all ur gonna do is picture me

You: ur so full of yourself

RC: ur telling me u won't imagining me between ur thighs rn? my fingers could be rubbing your sweet pussy and get u real nice and wet

RC: ur always so wet for me

You: shut up

RC: and when ur dripping, i finally put my fingers in. just one for now, just to tease u

RC: while i'm fingering u, ur moaning with that sweet little voice of yours, begging me to go faster

RC: i do.

You squeeze your thighs together, feeling the ember of heat spreading from your core and causing your entire body to ache. God, you need release, and you find your free hand between your legs, stroking your panty-clad pussy to find the patch drenched. You hiss from the sensitivity, just as more texts come through.

RC: and when i drop my face down to find ur clit

RC: you'll moan my name, won't you baby?

Your fingers enter your wet pussy, but the girth isn't enough, and while you're pumping yourself, it isn't the same. You're imagining him—goddamnit, you're imagining him—and how he can do it so much better.

More text pings, but your head is tipped back, trying to bring yourself to your own release with no relief. When minutes pass and nothing but an incessant throb pulses through your core, you decide enough is enough.

Throwing your covers off, you march to the front door and whip it open, finding Rafe leaning against his motorcycle, phone in hand. His eyes immediately find you and a conceited smirk rises to his lips, "changed your mind?"

"Shut up."

You grab his shirt, not bothering for small talk, and pull him into your house, threading through the narrowed space before finding your room. When the door closes, you push Rafe against it, pushing your slick-covered fingers through his mouth, forcing him to suck.

He does, and a look of surprise and lust passes through his features.

"You gonna fuck me like you promised?" You challenge in a whisper.

He pulls your fingers out, "Use me, baby. Make yourself feel good."

With that satisfaction, you're about to turn around to go to your bed, but Rafe tugs on your wrist, pulling you back. "Not so fast."

His lips slam onto yours and Rafe kisses you desperately. You taste yourself faintly on his tongue, and one of his hands cups under your chin before slipping down, pulling at the thin material of your shirt, messing with the hems of your shorts.

Rafe pulls away, teeth tugging at your bottom lip before releasing and mumbling harshly. "I need these fucking clothes off."

"You're here now," you step back just an inch, "do it yourself."

Rafe grabs the hem of your shirt and swiftly peels it off, before both hands land on either side of your waist, slowly, sultrily lowering your shorts as he sinks himself to his knees. Rafe guides you back, allowing you to meet the foot of your bed frame, and when he evicts you of your clothes completely, he pushes you onto the mattress. 

"Fuck, Maybank," Rafe groans to himself, "you're dripping."

"Like you promised, huh?"

With a smug look, his fingers brush against your aching cunt, rough fingers grazing your slit in vertical strokes. You instantly jolt into his hand, causing him to use his free hand to hold down your hips.

His dark blue eyes are trained on your pussy, and you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of need to say something. To prompt him to go faster. Rougher.

"This isn't for you," you proclaim with a low rasp, "this is for me."

"Whatever you tell yourself so I can fuck you."

A digit pumps inside you—like he said—slow and steady at first, but the girth alone causes you to clench around it. Before long, he adds another and another, curling his fingers inside of you, fingertips grazing against your sensitive walls.

Your head tips back against your sheets, breathy moans escaping you. You feel yourself building up to a white-hot pleasure, the familiar one that you've been chasing ever since his texts, but comes so easily with Rafe.

"Come on, baby," Rafe taunts, going faster. "Scream my name."

"Fuck off, Cameron," you stammer through a moan.

He chuckles to himself. "Close enough."

His face lowers to capture your clit and he sucks hard, making you see stars. Your fingers thread through his hair, pushing him closer to your cunt, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

Rafe usually loves being the dominant one, but something about you—chasing your own pleasure, using him as a mere toy for your own release—makes his inside buzz. He fucking loves it. With you and no one else.

Desperate moans cascade out of your lips, so needy, Rafe is reeling from the sound and safekeeping it into his memory. His name falls from your lips, and he channels his enthusiasm until he's knuckle-deep inside you with his mouth working over your swollen nub. 

You come hard while Rafe guides you through your orgasm, slowing down his thrusts. Once you ride it to completion, Rafe retreats his fingers and pulls you to the ledge of the mattress, forcing you back into a sitting position.

His eyes leveled with yours, your breathing is harsh while Rafe studies your features. The look on your face post-orgasm, the way your lips are parted with a fuckable pout, and the way your eyes are on him. Only him.

Slowly, you take his hand, the one slick with your arousal, and raise it to your mouth, pushing his fingers between your lips. You suck him clean, never breaking eye contact, and Rafe swears he's never seen a more erotic sight.

When he pulls his hand back, he uses it to cup the nape of your neck and pulls you into a kiss. It came as a surprise to you; the way his tongue plays with yours, tasting you, needing you. 

Then, a loud banging from one side of your wall causes you to jump back. JJ's voice follows, "Can you keep it down over there?!"

It takes a beat before you burst out laughing, Rafe following. You turn back to him, tilting your head.

"Wanna make some noise?" You ask.

He grins. "Would love to."

"Okay," you grab his shirt, exchanging position, and push him onto your mattress. Your knees on either side of his hips. "My turn."

IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

[illusioninfnty]

Fight, Flight, Fuck!

જ⁀➴ Fuck or Die : Day 21

feat. Josh Washington ᯓ★ A scary man corners you alone, hopeless in only a mere towel. Your first reaction? Plead that you'll do anything to stay alive.

warnings! : NSFW 18+, lowkey bisexual reader if you squint, josh in psycho costume, dub-con bc reader doesn't know it's him, breast play, no prep, fingering, degradation, one (1) pussy slap, unprotected sex, creampie, use of chloroform (not during sex)

ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You sink down deeper into the hot water that fills the large bathtub, closing your eyes in relaxation. At the other end of the tub lies Sam, classical music blasting through her earbuds. It wasn’t your initial intention to be sharing a bath with her, but there was only enough hot water for one bath, and neither of you were going to give it up.

And to be completely honest, you really didn’t mind it much.

You don’t realize that you were drifting off until you hear the slam of the bathroom door. You jolt, some of the wash around you splashing outside of the tub. Sam hears it too, with the way she pulls her earbuds out of her ears and looks around.

“What was that?” she asks, voice low with caution.

Your eyes narrow. “I’m not sure.” You pull yourself out of the tub, grabbing a white towel to dry yourself off with. When you go to reach for your clothes that you left on the ground, they’re nowhere to be seen. You look around the room, trying to see if you maybe forgot where you placed them, but to no avail your clothes have seemingly disappeared.

“Hey Sam?” 

She hums in response. 

“Where are our clothes?”

“Shit,” she hisses, looking around frantically. “Ugh, those jerks. Seriously guys? Not cool!” she yells out, in the direction of the door.

“Assholes.” You roll your eyes. “I’ll go find them.” You secure your towel to yourself, adjusting it so all of your more private areas are covered.

“You sure you don’t need any back up?”

“Don’t worry. I can handle these pricks.”

She laughs, placing her headphones back in her ears and resting her head against the edge of the tub.

With that you head outside, shutting the bathroom door behind you and leaving Sam to her peaceful bath.

As you walk through the lodge and down the stairs, you’re unsettled by how dark and quiet it seems, much more than it should be with some or your friends still roaming around.

“Guys?” You’re only met with the eerie silence, your voice the only thing echoing back to you in the spacious lodge.

“Alright, you got us. It’s not funny anymore, give our clothes back!” you shout out, hoping someone, anyone, will take pity on you and relent.  

You try again as you walk through the lodge. “Josh? Chris? Ash? Where the fuck are you?”

No answer. You sigh, frustrated, and make your way to the cinema room, hoping you can find them in there.

When you arrive and begin to search the area, a deep, scratchy voice intervenes. “Looking for me? I don’t think you’ll have much luck by looking, poor little thing.”

Your blood runs cold at the unfamiliar voice that rings out throughout the lodge. You turn to run out the room, but you gasp as a figure emerges in the entryway.

He is large and imposing, at least a head taller than you. His dark blue overalls look to be stained with a dark liquid, and you aren’t sure you want to find out what it is. The scariest of all though, is the mask that he wears. It’s white, caked in dirt and grime, reminiscent of a skull. The ugly teeth of the mask protrude out, and the black of the eye holes has it so you can’t make out the man’s actual eyes.

You go to scream and run away, but the man swiftly picks you up with ease, clasping a hand over your mouth and shushing you.

“Don’t make a sound if you want to live.” He whispers it into your ear, his voice deep and guttural, as if he’s purposely lowering his voice to sound scarier. 

Whatever he's trying to do though, it’s working. You feel your legs tremble beneath you, and you know you’d collapse onto the floor if he wasn’t holding you up.

“P-please,” you whimper when he finally takes his gloved hand off of your mouth, “I’ll do anything. Just let me go.”

He chuckles. “Anything?”

Fuck. You two sound like you just came straight out of a shitty porno. But maybe those girls had the right idea though. If this was going to be your one-way pass out of death, so be it.

“Y-yeah.” You nod. “Whatever you want.”

Your front sides are pressed against each other, and through it you can feel the stir of his cock as it hardens. One of his hands raises as it tears your towel from you in one fell swoop. 

You gasp in surprise, standing naked in his grasp as he starts to fondle your breasts, tweaking at your nipples that harden from the exposure to the cool air of the cinema room.

A strangled noise leaves your lips as his hands continue to paw at your breasts, the pleasure reaching down to your pussy. Embarrassingly, you can feel yourself grow wet down there. Your cheeks heat up at the thought. In your defense, it had been a while since you’d had sex. Even any sort of over-the-clothes touching wasn’t something that you’d experienced since a couple of months ago, at this point.

Sensing your increased arousal, one of the man’s hands leaves your breast and travels down to your pussy. His fingers flit around your thighs, until he finally lands on your wet slit.

“Such a slut.” He hisses out. You bite your lip as his fingers begin to tease at your wet folds. “How many of your friends have touched you like this?”

“N-none,” you reply—truthfully. Your hips buck against his hands, desperate for some relief from his taunting.

“How many do you want to touch you like this?” he fires back.

Your silence seems to be louder than words could ever be. He chuckles darkly, and then brings his hand back to slap your pussy. You cry out, throwing your head back at the pain.

“Fucking dirty girl. What would they say if they saw you like this, acting like a slut for my cock? What would Josh say?”

“How the fuck do you know—mmph!” You're interrupted by him shoving two of his fingers up your pussy. You’re startled by the sudden intrusion, and silently thank whoever’s listening for making sure that you’re wet as he does so.

His fingers piston in and out of you relentlessly; all you can do is moan in response, helpless against his body.

The intrusion doesn’t distract you from the dread that pools in your stomach by this psycho knowing Josh’s name. You desperately hope that he’s safe right now. All you can do in the moment is let yourself indulge in the temporary pleasure, and then escape so that you can find your friends, warn them, and make sure that everyone’s okay.

Sensing your thoughts drifting off, the man removes his fingers from you. You whine at the loss, but your walls tighten around emptiness as you hear a zipper and his cock springs out, pressing against your backside.

“Gonna shove this all inside of you, and you’re going to enjoy it real good, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes!” you cry out wantonly, hoping to please him with your eagerness. But at the same time, you were a bit startled by just how much you wanted this, too.

Without another word he shoves his cock into you, and you melt as his thickness stretches you out so nicely. He begins thrusting at a steady rhythming, gripping your hips so tight you’re positive they’ll be bruised later today.

You’re helpless at this point, at the mercy of this man and his incessant rutting inside of you. The cinema room is filled with the sounds of his low grunts, your unintelligible mewls, and the sounds of skin-to-skin contact as his hips meet your ass with his hard thrusts.

You grab blindly behind you, clasping your hands onto him for some stability, the denim of his overalls scratching at your skin. You whimper as he bends you over some more, the new angle having his cock reach deeper inside you. Your moan is stretched out as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

One hand comes down to reach for your clit, and you know you’re done for. As he begins to rub at the nub, your hips thrash widely. The combination of his cock hitting places inside of you that haven’t ever been touched and the sensations coming through from your sensitive clit have you cumming. You lurch forward as your breath comes out in broken gasps, falling apart on his cock.

The man isn’t too far behind you, as his hips begin to stutter and his grunts come out at a faster pace, in a more breathier tone. He whispers something too softly for your ears to recognize, and then he slams his hips against you one last time as he cums, the hot liquid filling you up all over.

His grasp on you loosens slightly, and you feel yourself shake as you attempt to recover from your orgasm, feeling his cum spill out of you and down your thighs. From behind you, the man rummages around, and you turn to see what he’s doing.

Before you can figure out what’s going on, a cloth comes up to your face, pressing tightly against your nose and mouth. You start to panic but soon feel dizzy, recognizing the sweet aroma coming from it to be chloroform. The world starts spinning around you, and you collapse in the man’s arms as his voice is that last thing you hear before you lose consciousness.

“Nighty, night, little kitten. I’ll get you all cleaned up.”

[luveline]

How about ploy marauders going to a party and Sirius promised to do readers make up, but is late so the other two are making an attempt. Sure they might know how to do Sirius's messy style, but do they know big dramatic styles? Can James do a perfect wing?

<3 fem, 1k

“Can you stay still?” Remus asks, turning your face a half inch where it’s held in his hand. 

“Can James stop kissing me?” you ask. 

James pulls his face from the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips lingering on your skin. “Sorry, are you busy?” 

“You’re supposed to be helping.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying yourself.” 

You smile. Remus rubs the softest curve under your eye with his thumb, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, concentrating instead on your face and the wetness of your makeup where it’s beginning to sink in. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he sighs. 

“You know better than I do,” James says. 

You don’t know a thing about it, that’s why you’d arranged for Sirius to do your makeup tonight before Marl’s birthday bash, but where is your awful boyfriend? Late, decidedly unavailable for makeup-ing. 

“You’ve done his mascara a thousand times,” James argues with Remus. 

“Yes, but Sirius has never asked me to do his blush.” Remus’ hand moves to the side of your face. “You are lovely, though. I think using only a little of everything is working in our favour.” 

“Sirius only lets him do mascara because he already has nice eyelashes,” you worry. It won’t matter if Remus messes up or doesn’t get close enough to the root. 

“Yes, and because he likes it when Remus holds his face like that,” James points out, eyeing Remus’ hand where it stays at your cheek. Remus has long fingers, ever-so slightly thick with two golden rings that kiss your chin as he lets his hand fall, and he’s always gentle. 

“James, I’m tapping out.” 

James pretends to roll up sleeves he isn’t wearing, your bulkiest boyfriend in a short-sleeved t-shirt that showcases the lean muscle of his forearms, the not so lean ridges of his biceps. They tense as he sits up, his knee jabbing yours, the bed creaking dangerously beneath your angled weight. “What’s there left to do? She’s gorgeous.” 

“What did you want?” Remus asks you. 

“Uh, I wanted, you know…” You sound ridiculously shy. You wish you could just do all of this faff by yourself rather than force their attention, but neither boy seems annoyed. “He does that smudgey eyeliner, it makes my eyes look bigger. And lipgloss, but I can do that myself.” 

“Are you kidding? That’s the best part,” James says. He gives you a smile confident enough to reassure you and handsome enough to make you shy from his touch all over again. “Pass me the black pencil, Remus. I’ve got this.” 

James does not got this, his expression melding from happy, adoring, to perturbed, and then annoyed. “Aw, I’ve fucked it.” 

Remus shakes his head vehemently. “You haven’t! We just need a wet wipe.” 

They search the room for Sirius’ wet wipes and come up empty-handed. A towel is wetted and taken carefully to your eyes instead, cold and rough on your eyelids. 

“Be gentler,” Remus whispers. 

James is practically atop you know, your chin tilted up to his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers in turn, then to you solely, “‘m I hurting you?” 

“No.” You’re whispering too. It feels appropriate; they’re both very close to you, and this movement might fix or ruin your makeup with the party’s start time drawing ever closer. 

“I think I’ve fixed it,” James says, taking the pencil up again, the nib soft as it rolls over the corner of your eye. “Sirius can perfect it in the car, right?” 

“I thought you were good at everything?” you ask. 

James turns your face up impossibly higher, craning his head down for a peck. “Yes,” he whispers severely, “I’m good at everything. But Sirius is usually better. Quick, let’s find your lipgloss before we’re late.” 

Remus tries to tell James that it isn’t true, a serious conversation at a bad time, and James won’t listen to a word of it. They quibble over who’s doing your lipgloss, bathe you in compliments when they’re done —aw, dove, you look so cute, and cute? she looks perfect— then suddenly an abrupt beep is sounding outside. The three of you scramble into your jackets and down the stairs, meeting Sirius where he leans against the car. He throws the keys to Remus, ushering you into the backseat with him for some last minute clean up. 

“Hey, they’ve done a good job,” he praises, another hand on your face to turn it up kindly to the light. “Did you bring your lipgloss?”  

You nod quickly and dig for it in your jacket. 

“What!” James says from the front, turning in the passenger seat to complain. “That’s the one thing we did perfectly.” 

The car starts. Remus laughs to himself behind the steering wheel. 

“Did I say otherwise?” Sirius asks, letting his fingers curve toward the back of your neck. Pale in the light, eyes lit with something funny you’ve yet to hear, he dips in close to you and talks quietly, “I’m sorry, I promised I’d do your makeup for the party. But you’ve all done well without me, you look perfect, especially your lips.” 

“Then what did you want it for?” you ask, confused, your seat belt pulling as Sirius encourages you forward. 

“To reapply.” He taps your neck with a fingertip. “Spare a kiss? I promise I’ll fix any mess.” 

Commotion from the front seat.

“James–” Remus warns. 

“What? I want to watch.” 

“Freak,” Sirius says lovingly. 

“How am I a freak? She’s my girlfriend, you’re my boyfriend, and you’re doing that voice like you’re gonna lay her down in the back seat.” 

“James.” 

—

requests r open!! pls think about reblogging if you enjoyed, I hope u did either way!!!

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Angel Calling

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You've formed a friendship with Brooklyn's most fearsome mob boss. But he isn't James Barnes, White Wolf, head of the Barnes Family Crime Syndicate. No. To you, he's just Bucky and he'll be there whenever you call.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky usually doesn't step in when it comes to interrogations but this one was different. Sam and Joaquin managed to find the mole in his organization. Said mole would relay any information about the workings within the Barnes Family to Hydra, sabotaging any efforts for Bucky and his family to continue to reign over Brooklyn.

So things were tense and the mole, his former lawyer, Sitwell, was slumped in a chair, bloodied and bruised.

Bucky had forgone his blazer jacket, the sleeves of his black turtleneck rolled up to his elbows. His pinky ring with his family's sigil on not was caked in blood, a mix of Sitwells and Bucky's, but mainly Sitwells.

The older man sobs, "Please, just kill me," after Bucky lands another blow to his body.

Bucky straightens up, a devilish smirk on his face, "You think I'd make it easy for you after all the shit you pulled? After how well my family and I paid you to help cover up for us? Nah, buddy. This is your own fault. You thought Hydra could save you, but you're just scum to them," Bucky punches the man again, "My family and I were generous to you and this is how you return the favor?!" Another punch to the cheek, blood dripping onto the pavement.

A shrill ringing suddenly echoes within the warehouse and Bucky glares to his men behind him. Joaquin immediately searches the pockets of Bucky's jacket. When he pulls out the phone, he turns it to his boss, "It's her, sir."

Bucky's eyes immediately softens when he sees your name on his screen. He then turns to Sitwell's unconscious body, "Saved by the bell," he murmurs.

Sam tosses Bucky a towel and gives Joaquin a nod. Joaquin accepts the call and puts you on speaker.

"Hey, angel, you okay?"

"...don't say you told me so but-"

"Your car finally die?" Bucky answers with a smirk as he wipes as much blood from his hands as possible.

"...yes."

Bucky snorts, "Where are you?"

"Literally a few blocks away from my apartment, which is the most annoying thing. It couldn't have waited to die after I got home?! Anyway, if you and your guys can help me push the car-"

"Angel, we're not pushing your car down a few blocks. I'll pick you up and have one of my tow guys get your car."

"Bucky," you give him a warning tone.

"Angel," he gives the same energy back.

"It's fine, Bucky," you try to reason with the mob boss even though you know you probably won't win. Bucky is incredibly persuasive.

"I got it handled, angel. Let me do this. I like to take care of my friends." When he says this, Joaquin and Sam give each other a look and Bucky give them a finger. The other two men snicker.

"I'll let you pay half for the repair costs," you compromise.

Bucky scoffs, "Repairs? Nah, angel, we're getting you a new car."

You sigh, and Bucky imagines you shaking your head, "We'll discuss it when you pick me up. I'll send you my location."

"Alright. I'll see you in a bit. Just wait inside your car. Lock the doors and keep that pocket knife I gave you in hand."

"Yes, sir! See you soon. Bye!"

"Bye," Bucky replies and ends the call.

Sam makes kissing noises and Joaquin laughs. Bucky rolls his eyes at the two, "Shut the fuck up." He looks over his shoulder to the still slumped, unconscious Sitwell, "Keep an eye on him. Ask him more questions if or when he wakes. I'm gonna clean up a bit more and head out."

"Sounds good. Say hi to your angel for us!" Joaquin says as Bucky heads to the bathroom to scrub off the remaining blood from his hands.

_________________________

You jolt away when you hear a knock on your window. You see Bucky standing there with a teasing smirk. You roll your eyes and open the door, "You scared me."

"You shouldn't have fallen asleep. Something could've happened to you."

"I was tired from work and you took too long!"

"It took me twenty minutes to get here, angel."

"Well that twenty minutes was the longest twenty minutes of my life!

Bucky playfully rolls his eyes and rests his hands on his hips, "Okay, we going or not? Grab your stuff. I don't want you freezing out here any longer."

You grab your work bag and purse, and hand them to Bucky. He guides you to the passenger seat of his matte black Rolls Royce. He opens the door for you and lets you slip into the car. He hands you your stuff and then shuts the door.

He swiftly goes to the driver's side, getting into the car and starting it. He cranks the heat up all the way. He saw you shivering in your car. As the heat spreads throughout the vehicle, your shivering decreases.

You look to Bucky in appreciation, "Thanks for getting me. No one else was answering since it's late."

He quickly glances at you with a soft grin, "I'll always answer when you call, angel."

A warmth spreads through your chest and you know it's not from the car's heater.

The car ride is short since you only live down the next few blocks. Bucky parks on the street and immediately rushes to your side to help you out of the car. He grabs your bags and follows you to the front door where you punch in your code and the door swings open.

"Come up with me so I can bandage your hands," you point to his right knuckles that are covered in cuts.

"I'll be fine."

"Then at least have a drink with me and we can talk about a new car."

A grin appears on Bucky's face, "I'll humor you into thinking I'm going to let you pay for any portion of your new car."

"I'm not easily swayed, Barnes."

"Don't I know it," Bucky replies as he follows you into the building and towards the elevator. You stand beside each other as the lift reaches to the fifth floor.

In a comfortable silence, Bucky follows you to your apartment. As soon as the door opens, your cat, Willow, gives you scolding meows since it's passed her feeding time.

"I know, honey. I know, I'm sorry!" you rush to grab her food and scoop it into her feeding bowl. She happily scarfs down her food as Bucky bends down, giving soft pets to your cat.

"She's so cute."

"She's a menace, but I love her," you say as you head to the kitchen, "Beer or whiskey?"

"Beer, please!"

You grab a bottle from the fridge and fill a glass of water for yourself. You hand Bucky the bottle as he plops onto your couch.

"So, for the car, I don't need anything fancy or super expensive. Literally just a normal car that runs, has good mileage, and doesn't require a shit ton of gas."

Bucky chuckles as he opens the beer bottle with his metal prosthetic, "I'll take you to a few dealerships tomorrow. You don't work on Thursdays, right?"

You look at him in surprise, "Yeah...you remember my schedule?"

He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, "Just in case," he mumbles, sipping from his beer.

"Anyway, yeah, I think it's best you come with me to the dealership anyway. Because sales people will try to get one over me because I'm a woman," you roll your eyes in annoyance.

"Well, all the local places know me so they'll know not to give you a shit deal."

"Sweet," you say in excitement.

Willow, done with her meal, hops onto the couch and onto Bucky's lap. She sniffs him and looks up at him expectantly, giving him a meow.

"She wants you to pet her," you translate for him.

He chuckles, "Well how can I say no to an adorable face like that?" he says, scratching Willow behind the ear, which she loves. She leans into his touch and it melts Bucky's heart.

You snicker, "If only your friends could see you now."

"If you tell any of them this, I will deny everything."

You laugh, "Don't want everyone to know what an absolute softie you are. Bucky?"

"I'm only like this when it comes to you, angel," he says.

"Hmm," is all you respond with. You turn away from Bucky and the air shifts.

Bucky gently picks up Willow up and places her on the floor. He turns his body towards you, "I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"You're so confusing, Bucky."

"Huh?"

"Or maybe I'm just stupid. Or both. I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

You let out a deep breath and turn your body to face him, "One moment, I think you're flirting with me and it seems like you like me. But then the next, you keep mentioning how we're friends and you like to treat your friends a certain a way. I just-I dunno. It's hard to process how I'm feeling with how your actions and your words don't match up."

It's true. Bucky has been holding himself back. He does like you. He really does, but he's also scared. You're a civilian, a completely normal person. Whereas he was born and raised in a prominent crime family. He leads a dangerous life and he's scared to get you involved in his shit. But he also loves spending time with you and talking to you, it makes him feel normal.

Bucky runs his fingers through his shoulder length dark brown hair, "You're right. I haven't been very clear on where I stand in this...thing between us. The truth is...I like you. A whole lot, angel. I didn't expect for things to go this way. I didn't expect you to stick around after finding out who I really was, but it's nice being with you. In my crazy hectic world, everything is so loud and busy. But when you, I feel peace and there's silence.

"Truth is, angel, I've fallen for you. I just don't want you to get caught up in my shit. But I also can't seem to stay away from you."

You scoot closer to him, placing your hand on top of his metal one, "I really like you too, Bucky. And I understand where you're coming from. I'll admit that what you do is scary to me, but I also trust you enough to keep me safe."

"So...do you wanna try this out?"

You nod, "Yeah. I do."

"Great," he says breathlessly, eyes darting to your lips, "Can I-"

"Please," you mumble before pressing your lips to his.

_________________________

Bucky holds a gun to the man's head, a deadpan expression on his face as the man begs for his life.

"I swear, it was only the one time! I-" his words get cut off as Bucky's phone rings. Bucky looks over his shoulder to see Sam holding up his phone. A picture of you and "My Angel" on the screen. A grin breaks out onto Bucky's face.

He turns to the man, "Enough of this," he pulls the trigger, the man falling back onto the pavement with a bullet in his head.

Bucky walks over to Sam, trading the gun for his phone, "Hello, my beautiful angel."

You giggle, "Hey, Big Man. Just making sure you're coming over for dinner right?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be coming over in an hour and I can help you cook."

"You don't have to help, Bucky."

"I want to."

"Softie."

"Only for you," he replies with a soft grin.

"Alright. I'm gonna start prepping. Say hi to the guys for me. Bye!"

"Will do. See you soon. Bye!"

When Bucky ends the call, he points a finger at Sam and Joaquin, "Not a word!"

The two men laugh as Bucky walks away. He's ready to spend the rest of his night with you, his angel.

[wlwloverwrites]

Discrete Packaging

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Warnings: vaginismus, mentions of pussy jobs, use of sex toy (cock ring, fleshlight & wand vibrator), no penetrative sex, breast play, pet name (princess), overstimulation, thigh fucking, smut (18+)

Summary: Ready to try something new, you order some helpful toys and play with Logan.

A/N: shout out to people with vaginismus or just really tight pussies, yall gotta be one of my favorite genders! (Joking tone)

No pressure to read, just tagging some of my favorite writers for Logan: @moonlight-prose @joelsgoldrush @eupheme @inkedells @superhoeva @ozarkthedog @gh0stsp1d3r

Main Masterlist

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORKS ON OTHER PLATFORMS

The mansion’s hallways are lonely. So lonely, your footsteps echo as you climb up the stairs in search of your Logan’s bedroom. Three sharp knocks on the door serve as a warning before you twist the knob open and walk into the spacious room.

“You know, it’s so unfair,” you call out, making sure to lock the door as you make your way to the bed. You pout before continuing, “Your room is so much bigger than mine.”

“Perks of being a sub,” the voice of your mutant boyfriend calls out from the private bathroom.

Fresh out of the shower, Logan’s hair drips onto his bare shoulders. Loose strands of hair fall on his forehead as he uses the towel thrown over his should to dry the rest of his hair. A pair of dark sweatpants hang low on his hips as the tangled drawstrings fight to keep the thin fabric from falling down.

Your eyes are glued on him as he makes his way to you, sitting on the edge of his bed. The familiar smell of his shampoo fills your nostrils, the scent only getting stronger when he stands between your split knees. A smile creeps on your face when his hand gently tilts your chin up to face his towering figure.

Rough hands find your cheeks. Logan’s thumb brushes over your bottom lip and taps it when your eyes find his. His eyes are soft then closing as he leans down to press an innocent kiss on your lips, a ritual hello.

“Hi, Princess.”

A smile creeps up your face as you mumble your hello back. You reach for another kiss, but Logan twists away from your hold, the hands that found themselves playing with the drawstrings of his sweats fall.

“Got a package,” he states, handing you a bulky box.

Embarrassment creeps up your skin as you stare at the box sealed with a bright pink label reading an itemized list. Big, bold vulgar words paired with your full name make you cringe. Nervous eyes then find Logan’s amused ones staring down at you.

“They said they had discrete packaging,” you whine with shaky hands raising the box to one of Logan’s fists.

The sound of his claw extending and retracting is sharp. In one blink, the pink tape seal is broken.

“Just be glad it was me who got the package. Could you imagine if Charles-”

You jerk your knee, hitting Logan’s before he can finish his sentence. He only quiets downs when he sees what’s inside the box. A clear double-orifice and spongy-like sleeve stares at Logan as you pull out three other items out of the box. A small bottle, no doubt some type of water-based lubricant, a black silicon ring, and bulky device with a mushroom head and long charging cord attached.

“They are supposed help,” you mumble shyly as you discard the box beside you.

Reflecting on your failed attempts at having sex with Logan you remember nails digging into his biceps, hissing his name, and begging him to stop when the tip of his cock tries to shove itself inside you. Trying hard to ignore the flashbacks of the burning sensation that lingers between your legs after Logan’s pulls away as he apologizes profosely.

Even when you tried again a couple weeks later, you remember Logan’s painful groans when your walls spasm and squeeze uncontrollably around the head of his cock.

Because of these past experiences, penetrative sex has never seem like an option, hence the purchase.

“What’s that?” The question falls past his lips before he can stop it. His eyes glued to the toy you have in your hand, the sleeve only slightly bigger than your fist.

Throwing the toy aside and making a mental note to clean them, you stand up and wrap your hands around his waist, fingertips tugging on his elastic waistband. Looking up at him with a smile, “I’ll show you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow never came.

Logan got called to a mission, so days turn into weeks and the unpackaged, washed toys sat untouched in his top drawer.

So that’s how you find yourself in the middle of Logan’s bed, breathing in his lingering scent.

Hugging his pillow to your chest, tangling your bare legs in his sheets. Your night shirt clings onto your body, nipples pebbling through the thin material. Your sleep shorts failing to cover your ass when you stretch your leg over Logan’s second pillow. You try your best your best to ignore the heat between your thighs and let sleep take you.

Even in your sleep your mind wanders back to the time Logan suggested to try something new, reassuring you that he wouldn’t hurt you. His firm hands manhandling you so your legs are thrown over his shoulders as he grind his cock over the thin material of your underwear.

Remembering the way he cursed your name and teased you for soaking through your panties. The soaked material clinging onto your lips allowing Logan’s leaking cock to rub against your clit. His arms that hold his weight caged you in, his forehead pressed against yours as you breathe out his name.

Recalling how you bit your lip to stifle your moans every time his cock bumped on your clit, lifting your hips to chase your orgasm. With his lips on yours, you cried against his mouth as you came, further soaking your panties. It wasn’t long after that Logan groan out your name and spilled onto your panties making them all sticky.

With a loud huff you blink your eyes open. Throwing the bedsheets off your sweaty body and gasping when you see a dark figure by the door that’s getting closed shut.

“Logan?”

“It’s me, Princess.”

Still sleepy, you stand on your knees, reaching your arms out for him. Instinctively, his legs carry him to you, hands grip your waist, and lips kiss yours.

His ritual kiss isn’t soft nor sweet. Instead it’s desperate and harsh, almost bruising.

Groaning into your mouth, his teeth find your bottom lip, demanding you to let him in before his tongue is exploring your mouth. One hand on your waist, the other is cradling your face pulling you impossibly closer to his frantic lips.

“Missed you so much ,” you almost whine between kisses. Tugging that the roots of his hair, his lips now trailing over your jaw.

He groans into your neck, inhaling your scent. His mind wanders back to the way his body missed you when he was gone. Waking up with an achy cock which led him to spitting onto his palm and kicking off the sheets. During his late nights, he painted the shower walls with the loud curse of your name.

“Missed you more.”

Pulling away, you laugh when Logan frowns. Bare feet hit the cold wood floors as they take you to Logan’s nightstand. His eyes fail at following your curious hands, instead they focus on the skin peeking from your booty shorts as you bend over.

The sight of you bent over, the thin cloth doing a half-ass job in covering your pussy, has him shamelessly readjusting himself in jeans. He wants nothing more than to tug your shorts to the side and lick you up. Distracted, he misses your request to lie down.

“What’s that, Princess?” He asks softly, eyes still glued to your ass.

This time you’re on your hands and knees, a wire in one hand as the other holds your weight as you look for an outlet. A blind hand repeatedly misses the outlet you swore was just there. Dropping the wire, angling your head to see the outlet before trying again.

“Can you lie down for me and close your eyes?” Your voice comes from under the bed as you finally find the outlet and plug in the toy you’ve been wanting to try for months.

Blood rushes to your head when you stand back up, a wand vibrator in one hand as the other one digs for more in Logan’s top drawer. Curious eyes watch you as Logan kicks off his boots, tugs his shirt and denim jeans off. Lying on the bed, his lashes kiss his cheeks as he waits patiently for you.

The bed dips as you kneel your way over to Logan’s body. The muscles in your inner thighs stretch as they widen to accommodate his thighs. Instinctively, Logan’s hand find your waist and with his precision, you’d think his eyes are open.

The mushroom-tipped device rests by Logan’s steady arms as you sit the stretchy ring on his rising chest. Lastly, you place the clear toy, the one you’re most excited for, next to the wand.

“Logan.”

He hums, his fingers run squeeze your waist, eyes still closed.

“Wanna try something.”

“We can try whatever you want, Princess.” He almost purs. Dark eyes flutter open and meet yours, filled with love and longing. He missed you.

You smile at his nickname for you, holding your weight with the hand on his chest before leaning down to kiss him. The kiss is sweet. Another ritual hello.

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

Fingers dig into the meat on your hips as you shift over his body and reach for the small bottle of lube on the nightstand. In no time, you’re back on his lap, tugging his underwear down, and smearing a drop of lube on the head of his semi-hard cock.

Wrapping your hand around his cock, smiling when you hear a soft sigh of your name. You stroke his cock, once then twice before you reach for the black ring resting on his chest.

Logan stares down at you, using his elbows to hold himself up. His stomach flexes as he watches you drag the stretchy, yet stiff ring over the base of his growing cock.

“Does that feel okay?” You ask softly, eyes glued to his glistening cock.

“Yeah,” he growls, hips shifting beneath you when you work your fist over the tip of his cock.

You can feel him grow in your fist, his cock throbs in your hold. Logan’s chest falls with each huff and moan of your name. His abs flex repeatedly as your hand works faster.

Sneakily, you grab the orifice next to Logan and position the toy above his cock. Eyes try to find his, but his head is thrown back as he groans and shifts beneath you.

Logan can only suck in a deep breath when the tip of cock is swallowed by the textured orifice. Logan’s moans only get louder at the tip of his cock peeks out the other end of the toy.

“You’re so hard.”

The praise goes straight to his cock as he shifts once more. His eyes rolled to the back of head. His desperate and grabby hands have now slipped under your sleeping shorts. His hands find your ass and squeeze.

Mesmerized, you watch as you repeatedly pump his cock, squelching sounds fill the room as Logan’s cock leaks uncontrollably.

“Feels so good.”

You giggle before shushing him softly, worried his volume would wake the others sleeping just down the hall.

“So tight.”

A pang of guilt hits your stomach but Logan’s lips are quick to find yours. His sharp nose bumps yours as the hairs on his face tickles you. The soft sounds of his lips kissing yours fills your ears, one of Logan’s calloused hands caress your face.

He smells like cigars, but you can still smell hints of wood.

His groans only get louder when you squeeze the toy around his cock. Your weight traps his flexing thighs, his constricted movements cause you to bounce in his lap. The image of you riding his cock flood Logan’s mind as his hip thrust to meet yours.

“Let me look at you,” he begs beneath you, lazily tugging at your shirt.

Slipping his cock out of the toy, you giggle when it slaps against his stomach, almost touching his belly button. Quickly, you slip out of your shirt, allowing for his hands to find your breasts. You sigh his name softly when he tugs harshly at your nipples. The act making them harden under his touch.

Distracted by your breasts, Logan pays no attention as you reach over him for the bulky device next to him. It isn’t until soft sounds of vibrations make him perk awake. You laugh at his face. Sweat builds on his hairline, his neck is flushed, and his lips are swollen.

Eyes fall down to his cock, the tip of his cock, angry and leaking. He stares at you as you let the bottle of lube dribble onto the mushroom head of the device. The white top glistens softly before the vibrating toy is pressed against the base of his cock.

“Fuck.”

The curse escapes past his lips before he can hold it. Hands massaging your breasts fall and wrap around your wrists. His grip stops yours from trailing the toy up to his leaking tip. Rather then fighting against his hold, you drag the toy down and press it against his balls.

The sound that escapes his lips has blood rushing to your cheeks and squirming on his lap. The squirming beneath you gets more frantic, almost as if he doesn’t know if he wants to run from or towards the vibrations. The black ring around the base of his cock strains slightly as his cock twitches again and again.

“I want-” his words are cut off by a moan when you shove the wand past his hands and onto his tip.

Claws threaten to peek out when you whine his name and call his cock pretty. The praise goes straight to his cock as he dribbles more precome onto the already shining wand. “I want you.”

Before you can ask him anything, firm hands find your waist and flips you over so he’s on top of you. Your legs wrap around his waist as your heart pounds. The wand buzzes next to you as your hands caress his face. Lips smash together as his hips down to grind against you.

Most purring into the kiss, you take in how hard his leaky cock feels against your pussy. Your sleep short do little to protect you, sticky with your slick. Nails scratch at his back, painting pink lines that fade in seconds. Desperate hands pull at your shorts as he presses soft, wet kisses on your jawline.

“Want you to feel good.”

“But you can’t go inside.” You fight back pathetically, still you help him tug off your shorts.

“Don’t need that.” He reassures softly as he takes control of the buzzing wand and presses it against your throbbing clit.

Squirming beneath him, your nails dig crescents into his shoulder blades. Your thighs threaten to shut, but his large body stops you. Gasping when Logan finds a glowing button and ups the vibrations. The cord attach to the bulky device brushes over your sensitive nipples making you whine.

Another click reaches your ears and the vibrations get stronger. Subconsciously, your hand, similar to Logan’s, reaches down to grip the device. You don’t know if its because you wanted to shut it off or push it away, but Logan doesn’t allow for either. Instead his words send a shiver down your spine.

“Move your hand.”

His tone makes your hands fall limp as you have no choice but to moan his name. With a fuzzy mind, you reach for the clear toy and slide it over Logan’s cock. His grip on the wand falters causing the vibrations to travel lower. The unmistakable feeling of fear fills you as your muscles tighten. Your thighs trap Logan’s hips as your body subconsciously fights to cover itself. Embarrassment then floods your body as you shy away from his touch, you hate when this happens.

“Sorry.”

Logan shushes you with a kiss and pressing the wand back on your clit, a vibrating distraction. With a shaky breath, you fuck Logan’s cock once more with the toy. The sounds of his wet cock sliding in and out of the toy makes you whine. Slowly, your body relaxes and takes in the pleasure.

Your hand works faster as you feel your orgasm built back up and approaching fast. Logan takes in how your chest rises with each breath, how your free hand reaches to massage your left breast, squeezing as you beg for more. Quick to satisfy for your needs, Logan’s mouth works on your breasts. Sucking your nipple and letting it go with a wet pop. He presses wet kisses on your breast before sucking on your other nipple. Teasingly, his teeth bite at your nipple, the final straw.

Your mouth falls open as you let out a silent gasp. Your thighs shake as you gush over all the mushroom tipped toy, and over Logan’s leaky cock. The wand doesn’t stop, instead it’s pressed harder against your sensitive clit.

“Come on, princess, one more.”

Your head shakes no as your hands reach to pull the wand away. Logan lets you, but the wand is replaced with his cock.

The clear orfice is long forgotten as Logan hooks your legs over his shoulders and slaps his cock against your pussy. The wet smacks make you whine his name, your body jolting at every slap.

“So wet, Princess,” he praises, nudging the head of his cock against your clit. “Soak my cock.”

Your hamstrings ache when he leans down to kiss you, your knees now touching your chest. The stretch makes you whine and Logan groans at the new sensation of your thighs hugging his cock paired with your pussy wetting the underside of his cock. His eyes roll back, rough hands squeeze your thighs, closing them tighter.

For the last time you cry out his name as your clench repeatedly around nothing and gush on Logan cock once more. Your sweet moans push him over the edge and suddenly he’s moaning your name just as loud. Fingertips dig into your thighs, no doubt bruising them, as his cock spills all over your stomach and leaks on your glistening pussy.

You watch with a smile as Logan comes down from his orgasm. Sore legs fall to wrap around his waist as he stands on his knees. The look of admiration covers his face as he stares down at you.

“Did you like it?” Suddenly shy, you avoid eye contact.

Your eyes fall to Logan’s cock, watching as he removes the cock ring with an overstimulated hiss. The wand is still next to you, buzzing softly before you reach to turn it off. He didn’t know about your purchase, he only found out about the toys because the discrete packing.

“Loved it, Princess,” he approves softly.

With a genuine smile, you finger taps your lips twice, beckoning him for a kiss. Never has he made you feel like your condition has turned him off. Instead, he has always been the one reassuring you that penetrative sex is not necessary in your relationship, but you wanted to work on it he’s more than happy to help.

“Come on I’ll run you a bath,” Logan says sweetly, staring at you confused when your jaw drops.

“Your room is way better than mine. Can’t believe you have a bathtub.”

Logan smiles, pulling you up to stand on your feet as your name figure almost skips to his bathroom. Wide eyes stare at the other spacious room as you mutter a small curse against Charles.

“Only way to fix that is if you move in with me.”

“Might take you up on that.”

Please please please reblog!!! Leave a comment! Or send something nice to my inbox. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this fic :) Plus it encourages me to keep writing!

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Fifteen

Steve’s left bloody smears on the tiles, but the bleeding does seem to have turned a little more sluggish; he’s too frightened now to pull his sock away, he’s pretty sure it’s stuck to the wounds where the blood has started to crust over.

From the floor, Steve manages to reach up for the phone, it rings nearly a dozen times, but Steve persists. He knows Hopper will assume it’s an emergency.

Steve hates doing this, but he definitely can’t drive. Just the thought of making it to the car on his own makes him cringe, and the dull, thudding pain is radiating out to the rest of his foot.

“Hopper.”

“Hop. Sorry. I think I need some help.”

“On my way.”

The doctor frowns at Steve spectacularly, “a raccoon?”

“I know, wild right?”

“So that means he definitely needs a tetanus,” Hopper says unhelpfully from where he’s perched on the other side of the treatment room. He’s got a coffee in a Styrofoam cup and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Steve hisses as the doctor uses some saline to loosen the sock, peeling it away from the wound, “I’ll give you something to numb the area, and then it will need some stitches. An x-ray might-”

“Nah,” Steve interjects, “stitch me up, I need to get home.”

The doctor has that look on her face again. From the other side of the room, Hopper sighs, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Steve can hear El and Eddie from where he’s standing in the kitchen. El’s been teaching him stuff again; today she’s taught him the ABC song. They rush through when they get to the ‘LMNOP’ part, making Steve smile.

“Okay Steve, we’re ready!” El shouts for him from the next room, and Steve goes in.

The furniture's been moved out of the way, Eddie lying on his back in the middle of the room. He’s laying on a white sheet, the long point of his tale stark black against the material. Next to his hip, there’s a pair of legs. They stand perfectly fine on their own, disembodied, rounds of flat pale skin on top, where they end at the thighs.

Eddie looks over smiling, “oh good, you’ve brought it.”

Steve looks down. In his hand he’s holding a saw.

Steve wakes, flailing. He’s gasping for air, trying to orientate himself. Panicking.

He’s sitting. It takes him a few confused seconds, but it all comes flooding back. Fuck, his neck hurts, and his back.

Just a dream he thinks on repeat to himself. Just a dream just a dream just a dream.

His foot. His foot is still up on the coffee table, “Steve, come on, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“What,” he manages to croak out.

“Here, drink this,” Robin hands him a half glass of tepid water, Steve downs it, “you had a nightmare.”

There’s a towel and a bag of peas draped over Steve’s ankle; trying to cool the area. Keep the swelling down, or whatever. The peas are melted now, the bag sagging in either direction with the weight of the mush inside.

The sight of it makes a sob catch in Steve’s chest, it comes out in a huge shudder, and Steve’s only vaguely worried he’ll never be able to walk the frozen isle in the store again. That he will cry spontaneously every time someone offers him a pear.

“When did you get here?”

“Mom dropped me off, Hopper wanted someone to watch you. He’s going to go check on El.”

Steve’s head feels muzzy. Too much has happened. They didn’t get home until the early hours, and Steve’s blinking in the full light of day that’s streaming into the lounge. “Where is he now?”

“Back yard.”

That takes a second to process, “no.”

Steve pulls his foot down, wobbling as he stands, leaving the towel and peas abandoned, “Steve, hang on.”

The dressing and stitches feel like they’re pulling as Steve takes a few tentative steps, the whole end of his foot feels like it’s burning, Steve moves until he can see Hopper; he can see him from the back, he’s smoking and looking down into the pool.

“Robs, get him away from there, please. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” she says, holding her hands out like she’s dealing with a skittish animal, she goes to the door, opening it and calling, “Hopper, he’s up!”

Hopper comes back in, dropping the end of his cigarette and stamping it out with his boot on his way in, “kid, are you sure he went into the pool?”

The implication of Hopper's question has Steve’s moving before he can really think about it, Robin calling after him that he’s got nothing on his feet, that it’s cold out. Steve ignores her. He has to walk funny, keeping all his weight on his heel on the left foot, but he makes it work. He sees why Hoppers asking; the water of the pool is opaque white.

It looks like the whole thing is filled with milk.

Hopper leaves to go and check on El. Steve’s glad, he did cause Hopper to have to leave her in the middle of the night, and that’s not fair on El, she might be worried.

Steve’s had maybe a couple of hours sleep on the couch, passing out when they got back from hospital. “You don’t have to do that,” he tells Robin; she’s scrubbing at the bloody smears Steve’s left on the kitchen tile.

“It’s fine, and it’s not like you’re in any condition to do it. What the fuck Steve, Hopper said he bit off two toes??”

Steve looks down at where the dressing’s covering his foot, “yeah.” Robin sits back on her haunches, bloody rag in hand, glaring. “He said that...if he eats Demogorgon, then that’s what he becomes. And if he eats Demodog, he becomes one of those so…”

“So you let him eat some of you instead? Because that’s the sane response-”

“I love him, Robs.”

She sighs, “I figured.”

Robin spends most of the day. She talks him into eating some toast; he balks at the thought of soup. Steve takes his pain killers and his antibiotics under Robins close supervision. They have the TV on, and Steve sleeps more.

She tells him to come away when he spends too much time staring out of the window.

Robin has to go that evening; she only does because Steve swears on everything she can think of that he will be fine. He will eat some eggs. He will take his pills. He’s not a complete invalid.

Robin leaves him after what is probably a ten minute hug, and a promise that she will sell Keith on Steve’s 'family emergency.'

The eggs are sitting heavy in Steve’s stomach when he hobbles outside. He managed to get a sock on over his dressing, but couldn’t bare the thought of anything else pressing on his wound, so he goes out like that. Just in socks.

He has a coat on at least, and takes the blanket, knocking snow off a pool lounger and moving it to the edge of the pool so he can sit with his feet up, wrapped in the blanket. The water still hasn’t frozen; but it is darker than it was. It’s turned a sort of pale mucky brown, like someone's mixed some dirt in.

Or chocolate milk.

Steve sits, and he waits, and he cries quietly.

Eventually the cold gets too much, and he heads back inside to try and sleep on the couch.

Steve stares blankly at the unlit Christmas tree, and considers dragging the thing outside and setting fucking fire to it.

He hasn’t cried since he woke up, which is a new current record, and he doesn’t understand where the anger has come from...but he thinks he might prefer it. It’s not fair. Nothing about this is fair, and it fills Steve with a rage he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced before.

Hopper sits opposite Steve, leaning forward, his hands dangling loose between his knees, and Steve knows that this is Hoppers ‘I’m trying to be kind, or sympathetic, or understanding face,’ Steve also knows he’s not going to like whatever is about to come out of Hopper's mouth and he’s already angry about it.

“Kid, I really think we should drain the pool.”

“No.”

Hopper takes a deep breath, “son,” and that one word fills Steve with a rage so complete he feels utterly still. Utterly calm. He’s completely empty, in that moment, except for the rage, “if we don’t, his body will rot into the water, and if you want to be able to bury him? Then-”

“Out.”

“-what?”

“Out,” Steve stands, and he speaks calmly and levelly, “get out of my house. Right now.”

Hopper doesn’t stand, he spreads his hands in a non threatening gesture, “El says she’s can’t feel him, kid, he’s gone-”

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Steve screams at him, suddenly full to brimming, his hears his pounding, breaths sharp, “I said get out!”

Hopper sighs. He looks at Steve with...pity on his face, but he gets up, and he leaves.

The water is so dark now it looks nearly black. Murky and shitty. There are black, choking vines growing up the inside of the tiles; clinging to the sides of the pool. Some of them are long enough to creep up over the edge, like The Upside Down is bleeding into Hawkins again. Steve is reminded viscerally of Barb Holland, and he hates it.

The phone is ringing. Steve ignores it until it stops.

It makes him itchy, ignoring the phone. It’s too ingrained in him that something could be wrong. It’s an emergency. The kids might need him.

It starts ringing again; Steve answers it this time, but only as a preventative measure. If he doesn’t answer it, whoever it is might show up, and Steve would really rather not right now.

“Hey, Steve.” Robs is uncharacteristically quiet. Reserved. “So...it’s Christmas tomorrow and, I know you said you didn’t want to come for the day but...what about in the evening? Just for a little bit?” She asks, hopefully. “Mom says we can save you some leftovers, you know.”

“Yeah...yeah, that’s really kind and everything Rob...” Steve trails off scrubbing at his face. He’s got a fair bit of stubble going on, and he only showered this morning because even he could pick up on the fact that he stank.

She sighs quietly, “have you been eating? Taking your meds?”

“I...yeah. Some. And finished the antibiotics.”

“Good. That’s good. You want me to come over then?”

“Uhm. No. No that’s fine you, you should have a nice Christmas with your family, okay? We can talk after.”

“Steve…”

“I know, Robs, I know, but I’ll be fine,” Steve tells her with a confidence he doesn’t feel.

“Okay, well, I’ll call tomorrow. Love you, Dingus.”

“Love you too Birdie.”

There are thick black vines growing up the legs of Steve’s pool chair; he ignores them. He climbs into position, wrapping himself in his blanket. He has a beer, his pills are finished now, so he can’t see the harm.

“I had a shower Eds, sure you’re pleased to hear that. Took the dressing off my foot, and it looks fine, you didn’t hurt me, not really.” Steve tacks on, “not ow,” out of habit.

Steve sips his beer, pulling the blanket tighter around his legs, and not thinking about Eddie's tail doing the same, “I’m supposed to have an appointment to get the stitches out, but it’s not until like the twenty seventh, or something, you know, everything being shut for Christmas. Which is tomorrow, by the way.”

Steve sighs, “anyway, I probably won’t go, it really doesn’t look so bad now, I think I could get them out with nail scissors and some tweezers, so I might just do that.”

Steve sips his beer, watching the laden pale clouds scud along overhead, “I think it might snow again, that’d be nice, right? White Christmas and all that stuff.”

Steve sighs again, and quietly admits, “I think you would have really liked Christmas. You get like, gifts and stuff-”

There’s a frantic splash in the pool, Steve’s up as quick as he can, fighting with his blanket, his beer bottle falling, forgotten, and rolling away on the tiles, getting caught on a vine.

Steve’s flooded with adrenaline, heart beating so fast, he doesn't register the chill as he scrambles up, stepping to the edge of the pool.

Eddie’s on the steps, he’s covered in so much slime and shit from the pool it's hard to see him, but Steve doesn’t care how dirty it is, he’s knee deep and helping to haul Eddie out the rest of the way.

He has no hair; but he does have legs, and he takes a stumbled step with Steve before collapsing to the ground. He can’t breathe, he’s bent over, on his hands and knees, choking. Steve’s lifeguard first aid training kicks in before he can really think about it; fueled by adrenaline, he braces Eddie with an arm about his middle, then using the palm of his hand he delivers one hard upward blow between Eddie’s shoulder blades.

Eddie splutters, but there’s nothing, so Steve does it again. Suddenly, like a seal has been broken, Eddie coughs up what might be nearly a pint of fluid, yellow and green and streaked with pink blood, it splatters loudly on the ground.

Eddie drags in a huge breath; it might be the most beautiful sound Steve’s ever heard.

They collapse down again, Eddie shivering like crazy, his teeth chattering; Steve grabs his blanket, covering Eddie. He’s naked and covered in gross shit, completely hairless, and has long gangly legs. Steve doesn’t pay attention to any of it really. Just Eddie. Eddie’s here.

He smells fucking awful, but Steve doesn’t care, Steve bundles him up and pulls him close, “Eddie, are you okay?”

Eddie blinks, his eyes crusted with gack from the pool, pink and puffy and sore looking around the lids, the whites bloodshot to fuck, his voice a raspy mess, the words broken by how violently his teeth are chattering, “Eddidie good bad.”

Steve bursts into tears.

Part Seventeen

[mystellenia]

passionate sex with abby ୨ৎ

summary: you and abby spend the night enjoying each other, sharing a passionate moment.

content: fingering (r receiving), praise, abby literally worshipping you, strap on sex

notes: answer to this req!! can someone get me a shirt that says "baby's 1st strap fic!" this was surprisingly fluffier than i intended but i’m not mad. if there are any typos or grammar mistakes, let me know please! i will never consistently proof read <3 prob like 20% of my work is proof read if i’m feeling quite Professional

(wc 1.6k)

"are you asleep?" abby softly whispered into your hair, careful to not disturb you if you had fallen asleep. 

the two of you lay on the couch watching a black and white film flicker across the tv screen, a king-sized blanket bunched around your waist. your arms tuck further into your chest, pulling the blanket up a little higher to your waist. 

abby's large hands splayed across your lower back—not drawing little shapes, not tracing your skin, just feeling. she was always touching you, whether it was your fingers laced between hers or just her arm pressed against your side. she'd always say that you grounded her, that just being with you could calm her down from the highest of stresses. 

you slightly shake your head, responding to her question. "nope." 

"do you still wanna watch the movie?" 

you shake your head again. "nope."

turning your head to look up at her from where your chin rested on her chest, you kiss her quickly on her cheek. "let's go to bed." 

she doesn't respond, just smooths your hair back with her hand and scoots out from under you, grabbing your hand to lead you to the bedroom. she leaves your dishes behind—a bowl, two empty mugs, and a cookie wrapper sit still on the coffee table, frozen and forgotten by the two of you as you walk down the hall. 

abby heads to the bathroom and loads up her toothbrush, and you change from your heavy sweatshirt and pajama pants to one of abby's simple, large t-shirts. you take your hair out of its bun and hear a chuckle from behind you, so you turn and see abby smiling and watching you, her foamy toothbrush hanging from her lips. 

you take your hair tie out and set it on your side of the bed. "what?" you ask, to which she just shakes her head and returns her gaze to the mirror in front of her. you walk towards her in front of the sink, looking at her reflection. her eyes drop down towards her shirt on you, and she laughs again, quickly leaning into the sink to spit her toothpaste out. 

"what!" you smile, tilting your head at her eyes dancing across your face. she takes her time with finishing, leisurely swirling water in her mouth. she finally spits, drying her mouth with a hand towel and saying, "you're swimming in that shirt." 

you reflexively look down at it, smoothing it down your body. "it's not even that big on me—it barely goes past my mid-thigh." 

"if you say so," she chuckles, leaning in for a kiss. her lips move slowly over yours, taking her time in savoring your taste.  

your lips part, and she turns towards the mirror to set the towel down with a dreamy smile slowly spreading across her lips, her blinks slow and partial. you lean against the doorframe with that same dreamy smile until you move back towards her, your hand moving to her shoulder. 

abby is the one who deepens the kiss, tilting your head back to push her tongue inside your mouth and humming against your lips. the bathroom counter digs into your butt, and your knees almost buckle at her unhurried kisses. 

both of her hands lift up to your head, grabbing each of your cheeks and pulling back to look at you. her eyes look more black than blue, her blown pupils swallowing up the silvery rings of her eyes.  

she turns your back towards the doorway and begins walking you backwards to the bed, the mattress hitting the back of your thighs and folding you onto the duvet, your kiss never breaking once. your legs immediately wrap around her hips, ankles locking on the backs of her toned thighs.  

her fingers snake under your shirt, swiping her thumbs over your belly and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. she parts from your lips for air, and you both break out in a fit of giggles. 

you calm down and stare into her eyes, hurrying up to her face and dotting kisses all over her face, making her laugh even more.  

abby turns her head away to escape your assault of kisses, and you still once she does. "i love you," she lowly says, her eyes lazily looking into yours. 

"i love you, too," you whisper back. you feel your cheeks heating, so you cover them with your hands to cool them down. 

"aww," abby sweetly coos, "you shy?" 

"i have a crush on you," you say seriously, smiling when she laughs at the absurdity of your statement. 

"well, shit, i sure hope so," she jokes and lowers herself, kissing you long and soft. 

like an unspoken agreement, abby pulls back as you sit up and you both start removing your clothes, one by one, holding eye contact the entire time. the intimacy of it all crashes over you, and you'd drown a hundred times over if it meant you could freeze this moment in time, pause it and restart whenever you choose. 

you lay on your back and abby crawls over you, sucking the skin of your neck and making your squirm. you reach to thread your fingers through her hair, but your fingers are stopped by the braid in her hair, now loose and frayed from being in all day. unfastening the rubber band at the tail, you comb your fingers through the braid and undo it piece by piece. once her hair is fully free, you scratch at her scalp, restless from her tongue moving on your skin. 

with no warning at all, abby dips her hand into your underwear, tracing a feathery swipe through your folds. obviously, you jump, your nails digging crescents into her shoulders. 

she gradually pushes her finger inside you, and you throw your head back with a groan, your legs opening unconsciously. she finds a slow and teasing pace, her thumb mirroring it while she rubs tight circles on your clit. 

abby never breaks eye contact, watching you the whole time and how your face screws tighter in pleasure, listening to your closed-lip moans start to spill through your mouth. she never speeds up, though, and the pace is too slow to finish. 

"abby... come on," you plead, trying to keep your eyes open long enough to look at her. 

"yeah? tell me what you want and i'll do it," she pants, looking at you and begging for an order, for another way to make you feel good. 

just one of her thick fingers can push you closer to the edge, but it's still not enough. your cheeks warm, but you find the words to say, "i need you. right now, abby." 

not a second passes before she's pulling out of you and leaning over to the side of the bed, lifting herself back up with a black strap in her hand. at six inches, it was a perfect fit for you—not too small, not too big—and for abby—comfortably sitting against her core. 

wasting no time, she slides the tip up and down your cunt, lathering it in your slick before pushing her hips forward and sliding in, inch by inch. she hovers close above your face, observing every twitch in your body. her own jaw is dropped all the way, her lids low as she uncontrollably bucks her hips and pushes the last of the strap in. a guttural groan falls from her lips as if she was holding her breath the whole time, a whiney breath followed by a hushed curse coming from you. 

she drops to her forearms, her hand moving to thread through your hair and cradle the back of your head. when you start to squirm, she pulls out almost all the way and smoothly pushes back in. finding a steady rhythm, her hips tenderly pump into yours, hypnotized by your little noises and how your hair splayed around your face in a halo. 

this was exactly why abby preferred missionary, but right now her pleasure takes over and makes her forget everything but you as her head falls into your shoulder, her hand tensing around the nape of your neck. 

"i" —she struggles to get out— "am so lucky to have you. god, i'm so glad you're mine." she continues breathing praises into your ear, your huffs getting louder and her breaths becoming more labored. 

she feels your legs trying to lock around her torso, and she pulls back to watch your face as she always does. "look at me, look at me," she rushes out, trying to catch you before your orgasm. 

you pry your eyes open and pull her forehead to yours. "together, please." 

"i know, i know. just..." she trails off, trying to focus, her hips suddenly jerking with her orgasm.

as if on the same wavelength, you cum a second after her, you two sloppily kissing and moaning into the other's mouth. you both twitch and spasm, the sheets damp with sweat and slick. 

after taking a minute to catch her breath, abby pulls out, wincing at the strap's base kissing her puffy clit. she quickly takes it off and lays down next to you, you immediately curling up to her. 

she rubs her hand on your arm, quietly murmuring, "good night, pretty girl," and pulling the sheets up, rubbing your skin until you fall asleep. 

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

[claireswhisperings]

baby, we don't need no towel • i'ma be the one who rub your body now

paige bueckers x fem!reader

synopsis: you can’t help but stare at paige when she comes over to build furniture for your dorm

warnings: suggestive, but no smut

wc: 1.5 k

masterlist

When Azzi enlisted you, Paige, and Jana to build her some shelves, who were any of you to say no to her? You all found your way onto yours and Azzi’s shared living room floor, each building a different part while Azzi sat there ‘encouraging,’ as she put it, all three of you. Two hours have passed with almost no progress being made due to you being constantly distracted by your blondie.

It’s sinful, really, the way Paige looks right now. Toned arms flexing with every move of the power drill, back arching when she leans back up to admire her and Jana’s hard work, her abs that tense when she lifts the shelf she is currently drilling. A thin layer of sweat covers her entire body, glistening when your girlfriend moves in the soft yellow lighting. Your eyes shamelessly rake over the upper half of her body, fully appreciating the fact that only a thin black sports bra is covering the top half of her body.

Azzi sits on the couch behind you, smiling silently when she notices the way you’re gawking at your half-naked girlfriend, not even noticing how quiet you’ve become, or how many pieces of the shelves you’ve dropped into your own lap.

“Hello?” her hand waves in front of your face, breaking your concentration on Paige’s abs. “Little distracted, are we?” she’s subtly teasing you, biting her hand slightly to keep from laughing out loud at you.

Paige, sporting a very cocky smile, ego growing by the tenfold at Azzi’s comments, taking a few steps closer as she turns her back to you to work on the part of the shelf Jana has been doing alone.

“Yeah, anything to share that’s interested you lately?” Paige’s smug voice rings out, slightly raspy. She fucking knows how good she looks to you right now, and you can see it in her eyes before she moves, choosing to turn back around so all you can see is her smooth back.

You roll your eyes, looking back at the building instructions while Azzi and Jana immerse in a conversation about a movie they had both recently seen. From her crouched position on the floor, Paige can feel your eyes subtly admiring her exposed body, choosing to arch her back slightly, leaning up to stretch her arms over her head, and offer you a side view of her body. Her face is painted with a huge smirk as your eyes catch hers, and you know she’s got you right in her trap.

You don’t notice Jana waving her arms and calling for you to get your attention, determined to finally finish one set of shelves. “Yeah?” you ask, slightly annoyed by all the distractions that prevent you from thinking about Paige for longer than you have been.

“Would you please help me, and hold this part of the shelf?” Jana’s voice is riddled with laughter at how long it takes you to respond and help her lift a section of the shelf frame so she can drill it in place.

Jana manages to drill in the last bit of the bar you’re holding, and you can take a small break, dropping your hands into your lap, and leaning back onto your heels. Paige slinks up beside you, nudging you with her shoulder to divert your attention away from Jana, who is muttering to herself about her next plan of action of building the shelf.

You and Paige exchange smirks, and you roll your eyes when her eyes drop to look at your tits, slightly visible in your own bra. “Come on now, eyes up here,” you point to your own eyes, hand dropping down to slightly caress and squeeze Paige’s bicep that she had moved by your head to entice you into feeling her up.

“Hey, no touching each other while I’m hard at work, please,” Jana’s voice rings out in front of you, and you and Paige roll your eyes playfully, squeezing her bicep one last time before you stand up move past Paige to sit next to Jana to help the girl. Paige pats your ass as you walk by, earning a quick swat to the head that she can’t dodge, but does get a laugh out of the girl, and she slumps down and looks at her phone.

Morgan props herself up behind Paige, showing her Azzi’s story, featuring her, Jana, and you. Flashing you a quick smile behind your back, she raises her voice, “Oh yeah, I get the appeal of this.” you turn around in curiosity, rolling your eyes to turn your back on Paige when she flashes you her screen, and you see Azzi’s story.

Paige turns back to her screen with a smile on her lips, seemingly done with teasing you for now. Her eyes zero in on you, sitting on your heels, looking at something way off the screen that shows off your side profile. Your tits and arms are on full display in your sports bra, and Paige’s eyes rake up and down the muscles you’re straining to lift up the shelf. Morgan notices this, laughing a little as she says, “Yeah and I bet you get the appeal of that.”

She gets up to go back to her place on the couch, passing by you to send you a small “Looking good champ.” You smile at Morgan, before turning your head back to Paige.

Azzi had shown you the photo before she posted it, and while you certainly weren’t denying Paige looked good in it, you did too. And you knew Paige liked how you looked in it, just as much as you liked how she did. She sends you a genuine smile, never one to not tell you how beautiful you are.

The shelves are more or less done, and everyone is unwinding for the night, all agreeing that finishing the shelves tomorrow is definitely a better idea. Will they be done tomorrow? Probably not. Does Paige care, when you’re in the kitchen, drinking some water after your work? Definitely not.

The girls are lounging on the couch and floor, moving the previously organised bolts and objects around. Paige finds her way to you, pressing a kiss to your temple when she passes by you to fish around for something in the fridge. You smile at her actions, busying yourself with playing with the rim of the glass with your finger, still eyeing your girlfriend in front of you, who still can’t seem to find one shirt to wear.

Paige’s head emerges from the fridge, face a little flushed from her knowing you’re still checking her out. 3 years together, and her heart still runs when you eye her the exact way you’re doing now. She leans into the counter beside you, eyes locked with yours while she eats something she found in the fridge.

Your own eyes drift down to her toned arms, one hand reaching out to caress her muscles. “You know, you should come by more often like this. I’ll break some things so you can repair them,” you mumble into her ear, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

Her face turns a deeper shade of red, finishing the last bite of her food. Your nails slightly scrape at the skin of her bicep, grazing up and down her arm as she tries, and fails, to keep her composure. Your eyes are drifting down to her lips, biting the inside of your cheek playfully up at her.

“Put a shirt on Bueckers, come on now,” you playfully push her away. “Should you be saying something like that to the hired help?,” she takes the cup out of your hand, and puts it on the counter to move closer to you,

“Kidding, you know I don’t mind, baby,” her tone is seductive in your ears, and you briefly glance at the girls lying in various positions among the shelf pieces, all too tired and on their phones to even pay attention to you and Paige.

You grab her hand, leading her swiftly down the hall, and into your room. Paige shuts the door behind her, and you’re quick to push her against the wall, and grab her face to finally feel her lips on yours. Her hands grab your waist, pulling you closer to her, and feeling the curve of your bare hips that she had been eyeing all night.

You’ve both worked yourselves up, both of you too eager to do anything other than jump the other’s bones. Her face slowly heats up as you continue keeping her body against the door, enjoying the feeling of your hands running across her abs and arms, feeling her up even more than you were before.

“Been needing you all night Paige,” you let out, pressing open-mouthed kisses on her jawline. “Fuck, me too baby. I need you so bad, please,” she pants out in your ear. Her voice has lost all calmness when her hands slip under your bra, fingers grazing over the slightly exposed skin. Her head leans down to suck marks onto your neck, hand landing back on your hips to guide you onto your bed.

You both fall down onto the bed, you landing on top of her, as she whispers promises into your neck of making all your time staring at her worth it by the end of the night. You let out a sigh in her ears when she tugs your bra off, fingers massaging your tits while she lowers her mouth down to your chest.