#muse: flossie

[simpleratattack]

It had to be done, they're my favourites.

[charliemwrites]

A reader x Simon commission piece I just recently finished for my sweet bean N.W. I had a lot of fun writing a little scenario I never would have thought up on my own!

(Reader is described with FAB anatomy, but no gendered pronouns are used. No sensitive content warnings, just spice.)

It’s a perfect day.

The sun is a bright golden marble in a perfect jewel sky, toasting the sand into a powdery bed. There are only wisps of flossy cloud to interrupt the light, a feathery salt-soaked breeze to soften the edge of heat. The water is nothing but lazy ripples, foamy waves crawling up the coastline before slithering back.

And your coworker is soaking wet.

When you first signed on as a lifeguard, you didn’t expect more than some extra pocket money. A little financial cushion while you finished working through your master’s program. A chance to get some sunshine instead of holing up in your room. Maybe the occasional bit of eye candy while you fished children out of the shallows and fussed at families for littering around the barbecue grills.

You didn’t expect Simon “Walking Wet Dream” Riley. (Okay, that’s not his actual nickname – apparently it’s “Ghost.” Because of course it is.) You didn’t expect his big, fuck-off muscles, or his perfect sun-bleached hair, or the dark ink of his tattoos, or…

Well.

You got more than just eye candy when Mister Price hired you. Simon is a whole damn feast. Especially when he’s fresh from a cool-down swim, red trunks weighed down by water and tides, revealing the tantalizing curves of his hips. Droplets skittering over the bulges and divots of his body, sparkling in the sun…

“Excuse me?”

You try not to jolt, head jerking to the guy that hopefully hasn’t been standing there too long. He looks about your age, maybe a bit older. Wavy, chin-length brown hair and eyes nearly as blue as the water. Pretty, in a young Instagram prince kind of way. Maybe your type in another time – the time Before Simon.

“Hi,” you say quickly, “did you need something?”

“Do you have any plasters?” he asks. “My little brother scraped his knee.”

You glance at the kid shuffling just behind him, his knees dirtied and one red with a bit of blood. Nothing serious, you determine, but could use some first aid.

“Oh, poor thing!” you say. “C’mon, we have some bandages in the shack.”

You wave to get Simon’s attention, make the quick hand-sign indicating you’ll be gone for a moment. He notices you, the two boys, then nods and makes his way back to his usual lookout spot.

The shack is a quiet, cool oasis away from the heat. You’ve dozed off next to the mist fan more times than you care to admit, only to be woken by Simon pressing a cold water bottle to your cheek. It used to annoy you, but now you appreciate the reminder to hydrate.

There’s a robust first aid kit in one of the cabinets, though you groan a bit when you see how high Simon’s stashed it this time. Damned tall man; you could swear he does it on purpose. You try to reach it on your toes, but when that doesn’t work, you jump a bit. Still no luck. You’re going to have to get the stepstool at this rate.

“Here, I’ve got it.”

You jump a bit as Insta-Prince comes up behind you, sliding in close before you can scoot out of the way. He stretches his arm over your head, tugging the kit down from the shelf. When you glance up – concerned about something falling on you – you find him smirking down at you.

“Thanks,” you say trying not to snatch it out of his hands.

“Seems like an… inconvenient place to put that,” he muses.

You sit the younger brother on a plastic chair near the door and kneel, kit open on the floor. “We usually keep it lower… I think Simon forgets I’m shorter than him.”

The kid winces a bit at the sting of wound wash but puts on a brave face when you smile at him.

“Seems pretty rude. Is he hard to work with?” Insta-Prince asks.

You hesitate, trying to think of how to respond. Simon was intimidating, at first. Dark eyes and stoic expression, he was difficult to read. Always within a stone’s throw, you used to feel like he was hovering. Like he didn’t think you could do your job right.

Over the months, though, that insecurity has bridged into a tentative friendship. Even if he’s not talkative himself, he lets you chat to your heart’s content. Keeps you hydrated, reminds you to eat snacks and apply sunscreen. Even handles the rowdier beachgoers when they break rules, his bigger stature and sharp glare enough to cow even the most entitled people.

“No, he’s—”

“What’s the hold up?”

You glance up at Simon’s broad form angled in the shack’s doorway. His eyes aren’t on you or the kid, though. They’re on Insta-Prince – standing a little close to you, now that you’re not focused on the younger brother.

“Just finishing up,” you answer, smoothing a waterproof bandage over the scrape. “You did great, buddy, high five!”

That earns you a little smile and the requested high-five as the kid hops out of the chair. When you stand, Simon’s eyes flick to you. Darker than deep water, something swimming within that you can discern from the surface. It makes you fidgety, like you’ve been caught out doing something you shouldn’t.

“Remember to log it,” he rumbles.

“On it!” You lean over the wooden counter to pluck the clipboard from the wall on the other side, relieved that someone put the pen back for once.

“So, you have to write down all the injuries people get?” Insta-Prince asks, trying for casual conversation. The air feels oddly stifling, and gets worse when he settles closer, peeking around to see the sheet.

“Just if we use medical supplies,” you answer, scribbling quickly.

“Lifeguards only in the shack, kid,” Simon interrupts. “Get moving.”

You try not to snort in amusement. While Simon might tolerate you, he’s got a general disdain for most beachgoers – ironic considering how adamant he is about safety. But he seems to find the average person a nuisance to be constantly monitored and herded away from trouble. Like a shepherd with a flock of particularly stupid sheep.

“My brother was hurt, man, give me a break,” Insta-Prince protests, annoyed.

“And now he’s not,” Simon replies. “You should catch up with him. Kids need to be watched, isn’t that right, sunshine?”

You hum absently in agreement, signing off on the injury log with your initials. There’s a beat of silence that itches at the back of your mind. When you look up, Simon’s arching an eyebrow at the guy, thick arms crossed across his barrel chest.

Sir, firearms are not allowed on the beach, you think, before wrenching your eyes from Simon’s biceps.

“Did you need anything else?” you ask Insta-Prince.

“Just what time you get off work,” he replies, giving you big, soft, hopeful eyes.

You blink, a bit shocked. Flirting happens rarely for you, except maybe platonically with Soap or Gaz. To be fair, you’re not exactly the female lifeguard idol that most people would fantasize about. Half the time you jog around in shorts and a rash-guard, more comfortable in unisex swimwear and keeping the worst of the sun off yourself. Helpful to avoid wardrobe malfunctions if a panicking swimmer grabs at you.

Besides, you’re not really looking to get hit on. Hard to keep an eye out for emergencies if someone’s chatting your ear off for a shag by the restrooms. (You didn’t think people really did that until Farah groaned about it at the bonfire when you first hired.) Still, now that it’s happening… you don’t hate it. This guy is objectively attractive, apparently cares about his younger sibling enough to get him first-aid, and is weathering Simon’s increasingly annoyed scowl.

You figure there’s no harm. Not like someone else is showing a similar interest.

“At sunset,” you answer. “So, uh…”

“6:30,” Simon offers.

You shoot him a grateful look as the kid begins scooting for the door, skirting around Simon’s wider, thicker frame. Christ, the difference is stark. You tug at the front of your rash-guard to relieve some of the sudden heat.

“Maybe I’ll see you then,” he says before disappearing around the corner.

You stare after him for a second. He didn’t even ask for your name. “Huh.”

“The hell was that, sunshine?” Simon grouses.

You turn to him and shrug. “No idea.”

“Really now?” he scoffs.

You shake your head, already agitated by the whole thing for no reason you can pinpoint. Lean over the counter again to hang up the clipboard. “Really.”

“This isn’t a place for your silly summer fantasies and little meet-cutes,” he growls. “This is a real job, with real lives on the line.”

You twist around, brows furrowed as your mouth drops open in offense. “I know that.”

“Do you? Then why the fuck were you in here flirting?”

“I was helping the kid,” you argue, “you saw him!”

“Real convenient, that. When the older one’s been eye-fucking you all damn day.”

Any snappy retorts drown in the shock of his crass language and the accusation. All day? That guy? And Simon noticed? Never mind all that – Simon would seriously think you’d use a kid’s injury as an excuse to… what? Get cozy with an attractive stranger while on duty?

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you huff, “but I need to get back out there.”

As you pass, a big, rough hand snaps out and catches your elbow. You come up short, half-turning towards him, face hot. Equal parts angry and ashamed for some reason. Summer romance your ass.

“Get it together,” he orders.

You click your tongue at him. “Same to you.”

You wrench your arm back and storm out onto the sand, snatching your floatie from the shack railing along the way. Don’t know what jellyfish stung his ass, but you hope he figures it out. Don’t think your self-esteem can take another round of… whatever that was.

The rest of the day passes tense and slow. Without Simon to talk to, and the beach relatively peaceful, you’re left to fixate on the incident in the shack. What was that about? You thought for sure you’d grown on Simon a bit. Sure, you’re one of the younger lifeguards, which is why Price assigned you to Simon’s post, but you’ve worked hard. You thought you’d proven yourself.

Checking your watch, you find that it’s nearly 6:30. The sun doesn’t seem that low yet, but the beach got empty while you were idly keeping watch. Might as well pack it in, you figure.

Not even thinking of Insta-Prince when you hop up the little wooden steps to the shack. Simon isn’t back from wherever he’s monitoring yet, and you’d like to be clear before that changes. Just in case he’s still in a bad mood.

You shed your blue swim-shorts and rash-guard on the counter, leaving you in the more standard one-piece. Roll your shoulders a bit uncomfortably, itching to squeeze into your binder after a day with tits-out. You’ve gotten accustomed to the sensation of leaving it off for the job, but you’d still prefer to wear it when safe.

You flop onto the counter, reaching over the side to fish your bag out from its cubby. Of course, that’s the exact moment that you hear Simon’s heavy step on that creaky board by the doorway.

“Bloody hell,” you think you hear him mutter.

“I’m just about to head out,” you assure him.

“Meeting up with that knob?”

Your temper flares. You abandon your bag and land on your feet, spinning around. Come up (very) short when Simon’s right there, not enough room to breathe without your chests brushing. But you don’t allow yourself to be deterred.

“So, what if I am?” you challenge.

His eyes darken, then narrow. “This isn’t a game you want to play, sunshine.”

“Maybe I do,” you insist, planting your hands on your hips.

He exhales slow and heavy, boxes you in against the counter with hands on either side of you. Your stupid, traitorous heart skips a beat, then trips into double time. Normally he wears a rash-guard too, but not today. No, today it’s swathes of tanned, scarred skin. And it’s so, so close to yours.

“You won’t win,” he warns.

Your tongue feels heavy and clumsy, maybe because your thoughts feel the same way. Now, you’re not always the most aware of “signals,” but there aren’t many other ways to interpret someone near-pinning you to a counter with smoldering eyes.

You scramble to review the earlier confrontation through a new lens. The way Simon glared at Insta-Prince, not you – until you seemed open to his interest. Oh. Ohhhh.

You wet your lips; the way his eyes lock onto the movement bolsters your courage.

“What if… I don’t want to win?” you ask.

His eyes dart up to yours, something a little sharper than longing when he whispers, “I’d make you a sore loser.”

An unexpected laugh bursts out of you; his teeth flash in a crooked smile as he scoops you up so easily. He sits you on edge of the counter and steps between your thighs, pelvis bumping against yours. You gasp, head dropping to stare wide-eyed at the frankly monstrous bulge in his trunks.

“W-wow,” you mumble faintly, thighs squeezing around his hips.

“C’mere, sunshine,” he growls, cupping your jaw.

You tilt your face up, sigh softly as his mouth slots over yours. He tastes like blue powerade and sea salt, tongue curling against yours when you grant him enthusiastic access.

Your hands make scattered, eager work of exploring him, unsure where you want to touch first, just that you have to. He’s as solid as you always expected, densely packed muscle under healthy, hydrated layers of fat. Sun-warm beneath your palms, shudders as your skim them dangerously close low on his twitching abdomen.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging gently at the shoulder strap of your swimsuit.

“Yeah,” you mumble, wriggling closer.

He huffs in amusement, peeling the elastic material over your arms and down your chest while you scatter kisses over his jaw and neck. You gasp into his peck when his calloused thumbs brush your hard nipples. Just a small touch, yet electricity is racing up and down your spine.

“This alright?” he checks.

You hum the affirmative, pressing into his touch as he pinches and rolls the sensitive peaks, slow searching. Reclaims your mouth to swallow each and every little mewl and moan that spills off your tongue. You can’t help rocking against him, hot and hard through the thin layers of swimwear.

“Simon,” you whine against his mouth, “c’mon.”

“Impatient,” he teases, nipping your bottom lip.

“You’ve kept me waiting long enough,” you complain, tugging at his trunks.

“I know, sunshine,” he coos, “just wait a bit longer.”

He takes the tiniest step back, fingers hooking in your swimsuit again to roll it the rest of the way off. You lift your hips to help, nearly squirming as strings of slick web between the fabric and your pussy. But Simon seems hypnotized, snapping the strands with his fingers and following them back to your swollen cunt.

“Fuck, all this for me, baby?” he rasps.

You make an embarrassed noise – which quickly graduates into an alarmed squeal when he drops to his knees.

“Simon, wait, I’ve been working all day and—”

“Don’ give a fuck,” he growls, “I’ve been dying to taste you for weeks.”

He yanks your thighs over his big, strong shoulders and dives in. It’s messy and obscenely loud, filling up the tiny shack and all the empty space in your head. Would be embarrassing if you had any room for something so frivolous. Instead, you’re gone on the way he sucks your clit and laps thirstily at your entrance. Utterly obsessed with the deep, throaty groans that leave you throbbing.

It's been a while, true, but you know he’d have you on edge so fast regardless. And he does, rushing up on it like a building, rolling wave. The devastating kind that’ll drown you in unyielding currents.

“Wait, wait,” you squeak, tugging at his coarse hair.

To his credit, he stops instantly, though he sounds absolutely gutted about it. Pulls back licking his lips like a cat with cream, chin practically dripping.

“Alright?” he asks, voice shredded to ribbons.

“I just,” you pant, “I just w-wasn’t ready to – to… I wanna cum on your cock. Please, Si?”

“Fuckin’ hell.” He surges up, pressing you down flat to kiss you stupid(er) and senseless. The taste of you isn’t as offensive as you expected, not coming from his tongue. “You’ll get anything you want if you keep talking like that.”

“Just want you.”

He helps you off the counter, drags you by the wrist to the plastic chair by the doorway. You’re about to protest – no way can that chair support someone his size, never mind both of you. But then he’s spinning you around, crushing you to his chest, and yanking you down into his lap. Any such nonsense as good sense dissolves like a sandcastle.

You can feel the length of him pressing hot and a little wet against your spine. (So, so high up your spine, good god). When he freed himself from his swim-trunks, you’re not sure, nor do you care at this moment. Your priorities narrow down to one absolute necessity: getting him inside you now, now, now.

“Easy now, baby, don’t hurt yourself,” he purrs in your ear. “Let me help.”

He curls big hands around your hips, tight enough that you relish the bruises that may bloom there later. Supports your weight as if it’s nothing to him, propping you over his lap as you line up his cock, dragging the flushed head through your pooling wetness. He curses low and rough, sinking you down until the tip catches on your entrance.

“There we are,” he grits, hands flexing in your soft flesh. “Nice and slow now, sunshine.”

If you had your way, he’d already be balls deep in your aching pussy. But his grip is firm and unrelenting, lowering you inch by thick inch down his shaft. You back and squeeze around him, encouraging him deeper, faster, helpless little noises escaping from your gaping mouth.

“That’s it, halfway there,” he breathes. “Doing so well.”

You choke. Halfway?! You already feel stuffed, walls gripping every contour of his cock like you were made for him.

He twitches inside you, bulbous, leaking head grinding deliciously, and your resolve cracks right down the middle. You dig your nails into his thighs and slam your hips down, crying out as he buries deep inside. Can feel him nudging your cervix, stretching your silky walls, all the way down to where your opening is sealed tight around the base of him.

“Fuck,” he snarls.

“F-feels so good,” you whimper, head falling forward as you clench around him.

Oh, you are definitely going to be so perfectly sore after this. You can’t fucking wait.

“If you’re that impatient to be ruined,” he chuckles breathlessly, “best brace yourself, lovie.”

You barely manage to get your feet planted before he’s fucking up into you, hard and mean. Just what you want, what you need. Your head falls back to cry your pleasure to the shack roof as you bounce. Rocking your hips each time he bottoms out, grinding him against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you. It’s mind-numbing; you’re leaking around him, know it must be dripping onto the floor at this point.

He snakes a hand around to your front. Brushes where the two of you are connected, the strange and dangerous sensation making tears prick at your eyes. Then his fingers skip up to your needy, oversensitive clit. You almost want to stop him, already so overwhelmed with pleasure. But again, anything like coherent thought is ripped away on a tide of ecstasy when he begins rubbing quick, tight circles.

Your rhythm faulters at the new stimulation, but Simon just widens his stance. It changes the angle, drags the head so perfectly against your g-spot. With the hand still on your hip, he starts jerking you down to meet each thrust. It’s slightly slower, but so much sweeter, combined with the rhythm he’s strumming on your clit.

Your orgasm rises like a tsunami, higher and higher, a devastating force building up inside.

“Simon,” you keen, “Simon, I’m gonna – right there…”

“That’s it, sunshine. Get me nice and wet with your cum.”

That voice, saying such filth in your ear, sends you over the edge. You nearly convulse, eyes rolling back in your head as you scream. Back arching, writhing and gripping crescents into his thighs. And you can feel yourself gushing all over him, onto the floor.

“Yes, yes, fuck, just like that.”

You’re near limp as he keeps hammering into you, practically using you like a toy to get himself off. The thought alone makes you squeeze around him again, a powerful aftershock bringing another flood of wetness. Your head lolls back against his shoulder, crying into his ear, begging him to cum inside you, fill you up…

He crashes his mouth into yours as he cums, groaning into your lax mouth, jerking violently into your overstimulated pussy. You swear you can feel him spurting inside you, thick and white-hot. It feels… it feels…

You break the kiss to suck in a deep breath, lightheaded and still squeaky with pleasure. Simon trails soothing kisses over your shoulder, grip easing up to caress over the forming finger marks. You hum softly, voice husky. Flutter your eyes open and blink at the pink sky out the window.

“Is it… is it just now sunset?” you ask.

Simon chuckles against your ear. “Looks like I was about thirty minutes off. Whoops.”

[sunliights]

open to anyone. muse: florence 'flossie' wu. 24 years old. bisexual. she/they. graphic designer.

"i don't know why you're wasting your time talking to them when we both know you're going to go home with me."

[timetravelingcourtney]

The Story Of This Outfit

I thought I might share the inspiration for this sewing project and the story I wrote to go with it. Some of you might remember that over the summer, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. About a week ago I completed my treatment (yay!) and am starting to return to my old self. Along the way I had been sent a package in the mail from a support group with a handmade bag. I was cranky about the kind gesture because the box clearly indicated my diagnosis which I hadn’t shared with anyone. I almost dumped the whole thing in the trash until I noticed that the bag was made of vintage 1980’s fabric and the inside…well the inside was a perfect match for Sari’s dress! I squirreled it away for a time when I was less frightened and cranky. That time was this weekend.

I thought I might reproduce some Saris but after I took apart the bag and saw how much fabric I had, I thought I might be able to make a dress for Kirsten. Wait no, I could make a whole dress like your doll outfit for Kirsten! So, I found some additional vintage 80's fabric online for the boots and shawl and went to work.

I used Flossie Potters 1800's Simple Stitches pattern, which I love, for the dress and designed my own apron and shawl. But the boots, what to do about the boots? I remembered that a while back I'd gotten a big lot of Kirsten items with handmade grey felt boots. I found them and they were perfect. I just had to totally dismantle them. I used the deconstructed felt pieces as my pattern, pinned them to the cotton which I'd applied fusible interfacing to and cut them out. I'll probably make a pattern and upload it here for everyone to use because it worked really well all things considered.

The story just kind of tumbled out of me so I figured I'd put it alongside the photos. My holy grail Kirsten really is my muse.

[kylo-wrecked]

@iomadachd :// { cont'd from here! }

— ☾ —

When you were a mountain, everything below you looked fake, like a city from an airplane window or a little plastic model. At least, that's what Ben was beginning to see now that the band was on top of the world. He didn't yet lavish in the potent exclusivity and prestige that came with flying business class and being given this and that; praise, acclaim, hugs from people whose lives you had apparently changed, but he'd realized the distance it initiated between him and the rest of the world. The little world in which Ben himself was once a tiny person from a tiny backwater town he missed like a shirt that no longer fit. He got too big. They'd do Bonnaroo next year if the fest in Cantonica worked out. 

Vicrul told columnists, media correspondents, YouTubers, and anyone else who'd listen that the Knights of Ren were 'genuinely, really excited to be here,' and then they'd all 'mug' for the camera, posing like Power Rangers, racking up six million views on TikTok before the festival had even begun. And the band was wild with excitement. They tornadoed from tent to tent, trailer to trailer, smoking anything they could find, provided it was green, swapping clothes, wearing each other's road equipment like hats, wearing Barrza’s cymbals like hats, checking behind each other's knees for ticks, arguing about who got to shower and when, and that's when Ben was Ben. He was Kylo when he walked onto the peninsula of the south stage and looked out at the sea of tiny people undulating and ululating like cats in heat, when the band was fifteen seconds from counting off their first set of the night, and he had to adjust the mic (again), which was always too short, but only needed to reach as far as the Fernandes anyway, and gravely regarded the culture junkies determined to suffocate in home-made replicas of the Knight's masks. 

The Knights of Ren weren't allowed to perform without the masks. They couldn't show up at a red-carpet event, on a talk show, or in a Starbucks without them. So, any time Ben got to spend unencumbered in Canto Fest's milieu of artists and performers, some of whom he'd rip his heart out for, couldn't be squandered. If fucking Baby Ariel asked him if he was having 'the best time,' he could say, 'yup,' and it'd be true. He was wearing shirts with holes in them the size of tumors. He was taking showers at 2 AM every night and waking up at 6 AM with an eight-string guitar in his arms every morning. He got to meet Richard Fucking David James. Moses Sumney. He was buzzing, and it wasn't all molly. 

When he couldn't take the volume of all the tiny people dancing under toothpick and cupcake paper tents in the distance stretching farther by the day, the sight of too many feet in flashy socks and Crocs, the hiss of kombucha on tap, Ben sailed away on the last of his high and deflated in the green room, sliding into a fat orange cat of an armchair, sinking until his back rubbed against the bottom cushion, and his mud-spattered heels dug into about two centimeters of road rug. Leila joined him a minute later. 

He glanced at her from the side of his squished profile dubiously. Even from his gelastic slouching posture, his eyes were penetrating.  

"Are you quoting 'Sword' at me?" he mused, propping his shaggy black head on the tufted chair arm to look at her properly. "Sickening."

But he couldn't maintain a straight face for long. A crooked smile unfurled across it, which, due to the nature of the outdoor festival, had finally seen some sun. The grin was unsuited to the gravity of his features, but given he'd never been told to fix his ears, nose, or teeth, maybe that was the appeal.

"How's you?" Ben asked, shifting in reverse at least until his neck reached the flossy cushioned back. His shirt rolled up in the process, giving Leila a brief peek of what was either a bad tattoo or a scar on his hip.

"You did good out there,” he said, referring to Alecto’s afternoon adrenaline rush. “Sorry they pelted you, though.”

He grinned graciously or apologetically. 

"Those 8oz bottles hit like bullets, don’t they? Our drummer says crowds like that only throw that many at women and queers. You ever throw 'em back? She bats them back at the audience sometimes."

Ben lowered his voice and looked at his hands. Maybe the molly was still in him after all.

"Anyway, you're good. If your music isn't pissing someone off, you haven't accomplished anything." Ben shrugged and nodded toward one performer greatly preoccupied with the inch-wide strip of fabric between her ass cheeks. "I mean, you could be doing that all day."

[xoimani]

What is inside your muse's pockets/bag/purse/backpack/etc. right now?

"In my bag right now? Okay lemme look... purple bag skittles... lipgloss.. hot pink nailpolish... a pen.. my phone.. hair ties.. half a sandwich.. some gift cards.. my wallet... a nail file.. lotion.. aquaphor.. advil... lipstick... little flossy things... gum.. sunglasses... extra socks... a phone cord and charger... my student id... a note pad.. tampons... a measuring tape thingy... I think thats it."

[the-wandering-rock-collector]

Sending Dark and Grass for Sidney and May representation

Send me a Pokémon Type that isn't my muse's main, and I'll design a team as if that was their main type!

Since I did dark here, here's the Grass Type team!

AU where Flossi is Steven's main Pokémon and also Shiny. Devon invented the un-fossilisation machine in Hoenn so it makes a lot of sense for Cradilly to be his ace.

Ferrothorn compulsory Steel Type. It'd be a good wall for his team, and it talks about in its' Pokédex entry how it can use its' spiky feelers to break open boulders. Very useful for finding gemstones and caving!

Gogoat I chose because goats in real life are known to be able to climb up almost vertical cliff faces which would be very useful for Steven. Also mountain goats crave that mineral and so does Steven.

Breloom is a Hoenn Pokémon and would be a long time Pokémon of his. Breloom's quick footed nature and punches would be useful for many reasons. And once again: good bodyguard fr.

Torterra is a big moving island Pokemon and Steven's love of travel and island exploration kinda ties in. I think Steven would be fascinated by Torterra's ability to grow a whole giant rock on its' back would fascinate him.

I think Steven having a Sceptile like May's would be a fun comparison. Maybe May's Sceptile would even be related to Steven's. The rivalry or even Mentor and Student relationship the two Pokémon could have could then reflect Steven and May's.

[sunliights]

flossie is half tempted to hunch over on their knees and pant dramatically for breath. while it might be how she feels, it's not actually necessary. instead, they survey the surroundings and the view they'd climbed all the way for. "pretty impressive," she muses with an approving nod, "you did good, linus."

❝ no pain, no gain. surely you've heard of that? ❞ it seems that simon's just got a penchant for making flossie work for things, whether it's actual effort in an outfit for a date, hauling her out of the city for a swim, or now. not wanting to make things worse on the way up there, simon leads them both in happy silence, occasionally pointing to a few cute critters along the way. ❝ aaaaaand we're here! what do you think? ❞ he asks nearly breathless, the altitude now in his head but the view of the lake and forest beneath well worth it in his eyes.

[simpleratattack]

Guys somethings wrong with Bronte and Flossie and I can't put my finger on it...🤔🤔🤔

[sunliights]

open to anyone. muse: flossie wu. pansexual. she/they. plot: birthday fun! open to friends/dating/ect.

"—oh." the present before them brought a smile to their face. not because of what it might contain, she didn't care much for gifts, but because it was so rare that anyone made any effort to celebrate her birthday at all. flossie included. "...you remembered."

[simplyholl]

I know you already heard about the picture when you sent it to me butttt the slutty v. I can’t deal!

"Besides, you're like, the poster boy for frivolities."

I can’t find fault with him for this though because ya girl is also flossy 🤣

The prick - peasant exchange was so good! What a way to showcase the mind reading thing!

"You lied to me, Loki." you said coyly, noting the way he was pressing himself back against the thick steel bar. His grip had tightened around the edge, the unexpected causality of your statement taking him by surprise. Not that he had lied. But that you had caught it.

I love that part! I just know Loki’s heart grew three sizes like the Grinch!

the undertone of spiced musk which infused his insufferably biteable skin

Losing our flip flops is so sexy for some reason.

Him being already hard sent me! Pretty sure he’s always hard he just hides it. 🤣

"You're awfully full of yourself for a man in a negligee."

I cackled but I’m not mad it! I think it’s sexy.

"So fucking weak for me, aren't you, Agent?"

I would’ve folded immediately!

"Loathe me. Scorn me. Hate me. Rage for me...I care not." he spat through a desperate moan as the white briefs were cast to the floor by your flip flops. "Just fuck me."

I tell you all the time but your pussy was on fire when you wrote that dialogue. Some of your best work. The gush that happened in my panties girrlll.

"You are playing with fire, little thing." he growled, tinged with desperation as your mouth released his finger with a final wet slurp. "Fucking burn me, then."

This part here too!! I swear this is the hottest ever! You know I was squealing in your DMs about this line, but having more context!!! I clenched!!

All the utensils falling was genius. I could actually hear that scene.

You could feel a tingling by your temples, a low buzz of static filling your mind as your lungs clenched. Am I imagining that, you wondered; as Loki's hypnotic stare sank into yours.

Hmmmm. Are we trying to read his mind here?

I loved when we shoved the ice cream in his face!

"Beware the robe" he muttered, "it was crafted by Asgardian crones, the finest weavers in all the realms."

This is so funny because it’s really something he would say. Of course he’s worried about that 🤣

His submission. That was what you had wanted more than anything else, right here. Right now.

Oh God me too. I would give my left arm (not the right cuz I use that one to masterbate) to have him on his knees for me.

We choke him?!!! I think this was when I jumped the baby gate and ran around like I won the lottery! 

The foreskin has become like Where’s Waldo for me. I’m always looking for it and get excited when I finally get to that part. 🤣

"You're so fucking weak for me, Loki." you parroted, seeing his brow crease in feral anticipation. If he could, you were sure he would have nodded.

This whole thing is going to be fueling the old spank bank for a while 🤣

You know how feral I get when he eats his cum off of us (or out of us). I’m using this pic again cuz I know how much you loved it.

Us 🤣 the muses following us around like “who do you think you’re kidding he’s the earth and heaven to you try to keep it hidden honey we can see right through you”

Oh lord why do we have to talk to Thor?! Is he gonna lose his dick again? 🤣

The mood change when we denied it! Poor Loki. He loves us too but we need to hear it!!!

Hot & Bothered: Snack Shack [Avenger!Loki x Fem Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: (14) Ice-cream ain't the only temptation waiting in the Snack Shack. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Hostility. Language. "Friends" w/ benefits. (4.2k)

You and Loki walked most of the way in silence. A small hut came into view, a half-shuttered awning facing the sea. The Snack Shack, a faded rectangular sign above the front read.

Loki chuckled mockingly, shaking his head. “I shall never become accustomed to this realms insistence on purchasing frivolities.”

“Like food?” you muttered. “Besides, you’re like, the poster boy for frivolities.” you said scathingly, pinching the arm of his chiffon robe. Loki sniffed. “I meant the exchange of coin. So uncivilised.”

“Well, it may surprise you to know” you whispered secretively, leaning towards him. “That not everyone has the benefit of being a spoilt arsehole.”

Loki scoffed, offering a dismissive wave of his hand. “I can assure you that if I was necessitated to use such vulgar methods of capital exchange, I would not waste it on trifles such as…”

He trailed off, searching for any sign on the dilapidated exterior of what could be found inside the Snack Shack. You rolled your eyes, turning the key.

“After you, my Liege.” you mocked, waving him inside. The god tilted his chin up, flicking his hair past his shoulders before striding barefoot through the rickety door in a swirl of black silk-chiffon.

Prick, you thought. “Peasant.” Loki snapped dryly in response, not looking back.

You tilted your head, a wave of irritation at his insufferable new habit giving way to curiosity. “I thought you said you could only see flashes of things. Like photos of certain...whatever?”

Loki nodded, picking up an empty plastic jumbo-cup and inspecting it with mild interest. He tilted his head, voice saturated in feigned innocence.

“You must be feeling something very strongly, Agent. Either that or the reason for your unfortunate position is deepening its hold. Oh dear.” He ended with a theatrical narrowing of his eyes, the blue of his irises darkened in the unlit gloom.

A coy smile pressed against the god's cheek as he watched your brow twitch; words failing to bridge the gap between your brain and tongue. He straightened, flipping the jumbo cup to spin flawlessly back to its position at the top of a curved stack.

A beam of afternoon sun snaking through the shutters ran a sliver of sunlight across his broad chest as he leant against the counter. It caught the golden embroidery of the caftan resting against his obliques, illuminating the luxurious weave that hung like a fucked-out lover around the muscle of his hips. The god’s hands gripped the sides of the stainless steel, drumming them lightly as he waited for you to respond.

“Steve didn’t ask you to talk to me, did he?” you said, suddenly very aware you were bare but for a simple bikini. In the cover of shadow, Loki let his eyes wander leisurely over your curves; a flash of pink running across his bottom lip. His tell.

“He spoke to me earlier. He didn’t speak to you.” you analysed slowly, running a finger along the length of the steel counter. Loki’s eyes flashed, a roll of his shoulders betraying his arousal. He pulled the flowing length of the caftan to the side, letting it swirl and flutter. You supposed he thought it looked casual.

“He spoke to me prior to-” he started confidently.

“-Liar.” you snapped, cutting him off.

The god raised his brows. “You lied to me, Loki.” you said coyly, noting the way he was pressing himself back against the thick steel bar. His grip had tightened around the edge, the unexpected causality of your statement taking him by surprise. Not that he had lied. But that you had caught it.

Loki glowered, lowering his chin. “You are the one lying Agent. To me. And to yourself.”

“You’re full of shit.” you snapped, heart beating louder with every slap of your flip flops against the rudimentary tiled floor. “Why did you lie about Rogers? Why did you come over to sit with me? Did you miss me?” you goaded, pouting mockingly as his glare intensified. The bitterness in your voice surprised even you.

He had shuffled slightly to the right, subconsciously moving away from your stalk around the L-shaped counter. “Or did you miss your toy? The game.” you continued non-nonchalantly, reaching out and gathering the opposing edges of his caftan in a fist. “Which you were cheating at, by the way.”

You could smell the dried salt crusting in his hair, the undertone of spiced musk which infused his insufferably biteable skin hanging thick in the heat. A thrilling tingle soared over every hair on your body, his beautiful eyes squinting suspiciously as he tried to read you. “What’s wrong, Loki? Lost your upper hand?” you sneered.

Suddenly you pulled the fist gathering the sides of the slutty caftan towards you, slamming his mouth to yours in a violent kiss. Loki jolted in surprise, before his hands fastened to either side of your head. The feeling of his warm tongue invading your mouth after so long was heaven. Infuriatingly, it was fucking heaven.

He shuffled you back across the tiny kitchen. You lost a flip flop. And then two.

The force of his kiss was electric, the animalism of his covetous passion overpowering every ounce of dominance you had held mere seconds ago. He released you against the opposing steel counter, a fresh chill of metal hitting your lower back.

“You wish to know why I can see the desires that your mind screams across the lonely abyss you have created around yourself? One of misdirection and sabotage?” he hissed, taking no mind of the fist still gathered at his chest. Loki’s face was inches from yours, eyes wild and dangerous. Salted onyx curls fell around his cheekbones, rugged and dry.

“No.” you said slowly, rounding your lips. You watched his eyes hover on them as they remained parted, waiting for him to fill them again. “Liar.” he echoed.

You rolled your eyes, using the free hand not hoisting his robe together to roughly palm the front of his swim shorts. Unsurprisingly, he was already hard. Of course he fucking is, you thought. Despite your distractions, Loki continued unperturbed.

“You think that by conceding to your need for my intel on our little party trick, that you concede yourself?” he let out a mirthless laugh that stifled the small space, vibrating against the pots and pans hanging on the wall behind your head. “Oh Agent…” he hissed, as you squeezed his manhood tighter than any mortal man would find pleasure in; “...we are too far gone for that.”

“You’re awfully full of yourself for a man in a negligee.” you snorted, dragging your nails along the sensitive ridges of his cock through the nylon. Loki grimaced, releasing a ragged growl as his head fell back to the ceiling. He let himself enjoy a few moments of submissive pleasure, before he brought himself forward; renewed determination glowing in his eyes.

“Be that as it may...it does not change that I can read you the way that I can.” he smirked, trailing a long finger between your breasts. He drew it between the mounds, groaning lightly as the digit disappeared into the valley of your cleavage before tracing it up your neck. His thumb lingered on your thorax, igniting the nerves that longed for his absent touch.

You let your head loll to the side, hips thrusting forwards as you felt him grow harder through the tight swim shorts. Harder? Fuck; you thought, as Loki’s fingertips grazed the length of your neck, back and forth; feeling every pulse, every breath. He descended to sweep your exposed collarbone, drawing tingling lengths over every pleasure point hidden beneath your skin with the lightest of touches.

It was torture. He was torture.

Loki’s forefinger and thumb clasped lightly beneath your chin, pressing against the angle of your jaw and forcing your face to his. He rocked his hips into your hand, grinding against the passive fury of your desire. “So fucking weak for me, aren’t you, Agent?” he murmured thoughtfully, eyes narrowing as he watched a new wave of infuriation blossom over your features nestled in shadow.

Before you could answer, his hands were wrapped around your wrists; tearing them from their grip on his caftan and cock like tissue paper. You gasped as he raised them above your head, sliding them roughly down your naked waist and hoisting you on top of the counter with a jolt.

“The only time you’re drawn to me is when I make you rage, isn’t it?” he grunted, grasping ravenously at your thighs as he spread them wider and slotted himself between. You panted, gasping as his hands wound in your hair possessively. “You are such a fucking arseh-”

“-Yes, Agent.” he groaned from deep in his gut, clawing mercilessly at the bikini bottoms wrapped to your hips.

“Loathe me. Scorn me. Hate me. Rage for me...I care not.” he spat through a desperate moan as the white briefs were cast to the floor by your flip flops. “Just fuck me.”

His own swimwear had disappeared in the fray. The thick cock you fantasised about filling you in the long hours of the night bobbed at his naval as he closed the distance between you. “Don’t, Agent.” he said softly, pressing a finger to your lips to quell the biting words hovering there.

Perched on the counter-top, you gazed up at the god who irritated you more than anyone or anything ever had. If you chose, you could pick up your shit and leave. But why would I do that? you thought fleetingly, catching a fleck of something spark in the greenish hues of his eyes.

You lurched forwards, catching the tip of his finger in your mouth and sucking with your eyes locked to his.

Loki lowered his chin with a rumble, the timbre making your slick pussy tremor as you swirled your tongue around the tip. “You are playing with fire, little thing.” he growled, tinged with desperation as your mouth released his finger with a final wet slurp. “Fucking burn me, then.” you snarled, running your palms down his chest to the treasure below.

“A month…” Loki groaned wistfully, as your hands looped around his neck; pulling him deeper against your keening body. You wondered if he had meant to say it out loud. His mouth latched to the curve of your shoulder, sucking messy kisses into the salted skin.

The flimsy material of your bikini top did nothing to stop pangs of pleasure soaring as your nipples rubbed against his body; shooting in blissful stars.

With an aggressive sweep of his hand, the pans hanging on the wall behind you shot across the room; clanging menacingly against the stove and falling chaotically to the floor. You gasped, descending into giggles as Loki lowered you against the cool counter-top with a satisfied smirk.

He hoisted your legs onto his shoulders, the silky material of the chiffon caftan feeling taboo beneath your naked calves. The god towered over you who lay spread and ready; running his feral stare over your glistening pussy as your back arched against the steel.

You moaned his name in frustration, pulling shamelessly at the golden hem of his slutty cover-up. Loki chuckled, holding his cock in one hand and dragging it leisurely against your wet slit.

“And you think you’re not weak for me...” he muttered, dipping the wide tip teasingly inside; watching a sticky web of arousal string outwards as he withdrew. His hair fell around his face, his eyelids closing gently with the smallest thrust of his hips edging lightly against your core.

“Only for what you can do…” you teased, fingers grasping around the counter’s edge; steadying for the coming reckoning. You bucked your hips so the first inch of his cock was swallowed into wet heat. “Fuck.” Loki choked, losing his concentration. His palms slid up the front of your thighs hanging against his chest before he bit ravenously into the flesh to his side.

“Please.” you sneered, feeling his length pulse against your clit as he stalled for time with his teeth and tongue. “You’re weak for me, Laufeyson.” Your fingers tightened around the chiffon hanging at his waist, yanking hard. The god’s eyes fluttered open in your direction, lips still fastened to your skin mid-bite.

“So desperate for the one who doesn’t want you.” you cooed, watching the familiar primal glaze blossom in his stare as you arched towards the ceiling. “So desperate for v-validation…”

The god’s hands cupped your knees, straightening your legs against his broad shoulders. “Lying to yourself again, Agent? How unattractive.” Loki snarled.

His fingers wrapped around your calves, squeezing tightly as you squirmed on the steel like an animal marked for slaughter. You bucked upwards, trying to capture the tip of his weeping cock like before. Loki tutted, wild hair melding in amongst the folds of black fabric covering his shoulders. “Doesn’t seem like you find me unattractive, Loki.” you purred, pressing your lips together mischievously.

Your hostile lover’s jaw clenched, grinding his teeth together as he leant forward; tight obliques pressing against the rear of your thighs. The veins of his furiously hard cock pulsed against your slit as he slid back and forth through your folds. Testing you. Teasing you.

You gasped as Loki thrust into your pussy without warning, his brows slanting before resuming their haughty, regal set. He bottomed out, a low groan vibrating against the back of your legs through his chest as he began fucking you with your straightened limbs jiggling shamelessly by his ears.

Dirty grunts spilled from his lips as he rode you into battle, primal desperation soaring as you rocked violently into his passion. You could do nothing but feel the enormous weight of Loki’s arousal stretch and fill your sex, every long drag of his cock making your face scrunch in aggressive pleasure. Loki’s jaw gaped, unhinged as dark hair swung against his cheekbones; errant strands sticking against his parted lips.

A line of utensils on the wall shook, every messy slap of the god’s hips meeting your centre making them clang. A spatula clattered to the steel counter, bouncing along the shaking surface before descending loudly to the floor. A ladle followed.

One of his hands ran down your thigh, finding its way between your spread legs. He began rolling your clit with his horizontal thumb; firm and mercilessly targeted – each massage of the digit timed against his wet thrusts.

“Tell me what I want..” you gasped between filthy curses, your back squeaking against the steel as sweat made it stick. In a flash, Loki roughly lowered your legs around his hips, swooping his hands beneath your waist and heaving you into the air.

His cock never left your slit as you clenched around him, hanging on to the heady fuck only he could deliver with all the strength you had.

He slammed you against the lowered shutters, crushing your mouths together like a man possessed. You’d never seen him like this, hands spasming in their impatience to squeeze and grip and pull every curve of your body to his. “Say that again.” he growled disbelievingly by your ear, making you shudder.

“Tell me..w-what I want, d-dickhead.” you managed to gasp as he rutted into you; your back flat against rickity corrugated metal. It rattled ominously with every smack of his hips, your hands running through his hair and pulling his head back with a sharp tug. Loki hissed, lips stretching to reveal his teeth bared as he bit air. “F-uck, Agent…” he groaned. “I shall n-never understand you.”

“Good.” you whispered groggily, clenching tightly as he dragged his pelvis against yours. He couldn’t be any deeper. Every tight thrust bottomed out as he impaled himself again and again, withdrawing only an inch or two from the back of your channel before the temptation was too much. “You owe me that.” you murmured breathily, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His face hovered in front of yours as he stilled, fully sheathed and hard as rock. He jutted his chin, capturing your lower lip between his teeth and drawing it back. A thoughtful hum shuddered the air as he squinted, eyes flickering between your own. You could feel a tingling by your temples, a low buzz of static filling your mind as your lungs clenched. Am I imagining that, you wondered; as Loki’s hypnotic stare sank into yours.

The god inhaled sharply, head titling to the side as he pursed his lips. “You’re a bad girl.” he murmured, punctuated with a slow roll of his hips. “No worse than you.” you countered, as Loki���s attempt at a lean for a kiss turned to a grin.

“Where?” he said. “There.” you replied, nudging your head towards the opposite side of the small kitchen space. The only unspoilt surface.

Loki smirked. “Very well. Although don’t be disappointed when you do not have the strength to facilitate the desired result.” he mocked, sliding his cock from your tight, wet heat and lowering you to the ground. The tiles were cool on the soles of your feet, flushed with faint pins and needles from Loki’s iron grip on your thighs. “Oh, we’ll see.” you replied petulantly. “I have a lot of pent up frustration.”

Loki chuckled, backing slowly towards the steel counter on his left. “That much is obvious, Agent. Perhaps it will teach you not to punish yourself with the withdrawal of your affections from me.”

You rolled your eyes, before being drawn back to the sight of him leaning seductively against the ledge. His slutty caftan spread out as he rested his hands casually behind him, knuckles popping as long fingers wrapped around metal. The chiffon cover-up glinted in the slivers of light through the squint shutters, embroidery framing his deliciously luxurious erection in the scruffy surroundings. “Or perhaps affections is the wrong word, hmm?” he interjected, looking at you appraisingly through heavy-lidded eyes.

You stepped forwards, noticing him brush the long line of dark material from one thigh, holding it beneath his thumb against the steel. It exposed the meat of his muscled thigh which bulged as he adjusted his stance. Tease, you thought with a smile as you padded past him, enjoying the moment his look of smug assurance melted to a frown.

“What are you doing?” he snapped incredulously, as you reached up to a high shelf. You fished around in a box, drawing out a solitary wafer cone before placing it beneath the ice-cream machine beside Loki.

“I’m mortally offended you would choose that over the delicacies I offer, Agent.” he coyed, bristling beneath the humour. You shrugged, watching the vanilla soft serve swirl in a perfect loop, higher and higher. The machine growled, chugging as an exasperated huff expelled from Loki’s throat. You smirked.

Turning to face him, you held up the loaded cone. “I thought you said you can see what I want.” you postured bluntly, before giving the ice-cream a whoreish lick. Loki’s eyes narrowed. “Indeed.” he growled, widening his legs. You sashayed the several steps between you, pressing your chest to his. He opened his mouth, eyes never leaving yours as you let him lick the cone. Slow, sensual. Filthy.

You whimpered as he covered the tip with his mouth, sucking before his tongue darted across vanilla-soaked lips. “I’ve had better.” he murmured playfully, a dark strand falling over his eye. “Me too.” you said, before shoving the remnants of the ice-cream in his face.

Loki spluttered, smiling back at your own grin as you began to run the ruined cone down his neck. A drop of white fell from his nose, splashing your cleavage. The scent of artificial vanilla filled your nostrils, soft serve melting instantly against his heated skin. It nestled in the crevices of his collarbone; sticking in tacky pools before finding a slow path down his chest.

“Did you see that coming?” you whispered provocatively, letting your tongue roll over the final word. Loki shivered, shaking his head. You ran your palms up his neck, feeling the thick sugar clinging to your fingertips drag across his skin. They slid over his cheekbones, carding past his temples as Loki gave a reluctant twist of his neck. “Beware the robe” he muttered, “it was crafted by Asgardian crones, the finest weavers in all the realms.”

You smirked, wiping a wet finger down the embroidered collar. “Oops.” you purred. Loki sighed heavily, restless irritation bubbling beneath the surface of his perfect skin. It felt like all your senses were heightened. His submission. That was what you had wanted more than anything else, right here. Right now.

A seaborne breeze fluttered through the gap in the shutters, coolly kissing the sweat gathered on your chest and neck. Without a moment’s pause, your messy hand slid down his abdomen, rippling over valleys of muscle before wrapping around his heavy cock. Loki hissed, a rasping groan filling the air as you began to slowly wank him back and forth.

Your free hand fastened around the thick muscle of his neck, the cartilage of his Adam’s apple hard against your tingling skin. The span of your thumb and forefinger barely reached edge to edge.

Loki smirked down beneath half-lidded eyes. “I told you.” he growled goadingly, before you pushed the flat of your palm backwards. Loki let out a grunt of surprise as the digits hooked beneath the angle of his jaw, tilting his head back further as you increased the speed of your hand around his cock. The drying stick of ice-cream made every tug drag as you watched him relent beneath your touch, becoming undone against the steel.

“Gods...more…” he whimpered huskily, toes curling on the floor. Loki’s thighs twitched, femur muscles bulging against your own as you pressed harder against the soft flesh of his neck. “Fuck.” he choked, rasping moans filling the air as wetness slid between your legs.

You squeezed his windpipe, clenching at the sound of half-breaths struggling to surface. The god’s hair swung around his shoulders, chin pointed to the ceiling. His stomach muscles flexed against your chest, the desperate thrusts of his sex into your palm making you feel more than turned on. Making you feel alive.

You slowed the motion of your hand, feeling a silent whimper vibrate his throat. Toying with the foreskin covering his shaft, your fingertips gently massaged the weeping tip as his knees began to buckle.

“You’re so fucking weak for me, Loki.” you parroted, seeing his brow crease in feral anticipation. If he could, you were sure he would have nodded. You pushed the hand pressing at the angle of his jaw further, making his eyes roll back as you tugged the delicate skin of his cock out and pulled it back with aching slowness.

A ragged groan from Loki charted every step of it’s ascent.

“Mercy.” he gasped, as you stroked him slowly. Too slowly. Every devastating rub of his sensitive tip made him lean back further under the weight of your hand at his throat. He was dripping with precum, each roll of your thumb against his frenulum making another pearl squeeze forth. You glanced down, seeing his fists clench and unclench against the metal counter-top, body shaking with unspent lust. Ready to burst.

Your pace quickened.

“Why can you see into my head, then?” you panted, beginning to tug mercilessly. The fluid motion of your hand sliding against the magnificent column of flesh was it’s own reward, the pretty flutter of his lashes as he came undone making you mewl alongside him.

Loki let out a strangled moan, velvet skin melded to your own; moist with arousal and saliva and liquid sugar as you stroked the underside of his exposed shaft with every flick of your wrist. The veins on his neck stood erect as muscled shoulders juddered, abs clenching as he leant into your grip.

“Because you...fuck. l-love me, f-fuck...uhhh…” he groaned, eyes squeezed shut as glorious white seed spurted over your fist. His roar was apocalyptic, a deafening exhale of your name as he spilled himself over your waiting skin. His cum shot up your wrist, coating your palm. Your forearm. Your chest.

You squeezed a final time as Loki let out slow, shallow pants; gathering every drop before smearing the handful down your cleavage. Bringing your fingers to your lips, you sucked the remains as the god leant forwards, tongue primed.

He met the curve of your breast with a sigh, letting slow licks trail languidly as he lapped himself from your skin. Fuck, it tastes even better than I remember, you thought; pressing the back of the god’s head further between your mounds.

There was still a ringing in your ears as he surfaced. “Did you hear what I said, Agent?” he said tentatively, mouth sticky with ice-cream and semen; glistening in the low light. “I was distracted...” you purred, your hand already fumbling for his cock, ready for round two.

“Because you love me.” he said slowly, brows slanted. An awkward smile tugged at his lips.

You snorted with laughter, brushing a thumb against his mouth to gather the remnant slick gathered there. You sucked it, able to instantly tell the difference between the ice-cream and his own delicious vanilla-infused seed.

“Very funny. You’re insane.” you snapped, pulling the collar of the sluttish caftan towards you to kiss him. Loki frowned, placing a palm gently against your lips. His brow was furrowed, deep lines set above eyes which sparked with barbs unsaid.

“I should have known better than to think you’d actually tell me.” you said petulantly, muffled against the flat of his palm. The god leant forward, the scent of his cum hanging sweet and heavy on his breath.

“Since you will not take my word, I think it best you have a conversation with my brother.” Loki said with disquieting bitterness, lowering his hand. You realised that the tight swim shorts had reformed around his hips as he readjusted the sheer robe, haughtily flicking fucked-out hair over his shoulders.

“Wait-what?” you stuttered, stumbling to gather your bikini bottoms from the floor. “Loki, wait –is that it? What about the water?”

“I have it on my person.” Loki grunted dryly, casting a shaded glance behind him with a theatrical flourish of the slutty caftan. “You are not the only expert at hiding things, Agent.” he said snidely, letting the door to the snack shack clatter shut behind him.

To be continued.. Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

Tags

@gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @xorpsbane @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @astridstark13 @coldnique @arch-venus25 @skymoonandstardust @nine-leafclover @springdandelixn

[valplum]

& they were neighbors

for @kevinxrichards

Another Friday night alone, and Flossie Carlo was making the most of it. The redheaded woman in her early thirties sat sipping a glass of chilled champagne, silky pink marabou robe fallen open on either side of her, bare feet propped up on the ottoman. At first glance, it might appear that she was living in the lap of luxury. But Flossie was a girl with caviar taste on a Cracker Jack budget. A pile of dirty laundry sat untended in the corner of her living room, there was a large crack in the kitchen wall that the landlord had promised to fix two months ago, and the AC was out again. Her apartment wasn’t Fifth Avenue, but it was home, and after two years in the place, she’d gotten used to all its quirks.

But some neighbors, it seemed, never learned.

Luke had only been her neighbor for a few months. The dark headed man had been friendly enough in the halls - shy, but kind, and Flossie always took a moment to speak to him when they ran into each other in the hallway or wound up in the laundromat at the same time. But aside from his name and that he was a teacher, she didn’t know much about the man. Well, she hadn’t known much about the man. A sound caught her attention and she quirked an auburn brow, muting an old episode of 30 Rock to listen for it again. Luke was watching something, and out of curiosity she strained to lean closer to the wall, barely able to make out the soft smacking sounds of skin on skin. 

That was enough to get her scrambling out of her seat, and she tip toed to their shared wall, pressing her ear against it. “Mommy, I-“ Flossie’s fair skin flushed at the words. That was definitely what she thought it was right? And he was definitely doing what she thought he was, right? The thought alone made her heart race, stifling a giggle just in case he could hear her, too. It didn’t take long for Flossie to have a plan, and in a few minutes flat she was standing outside Luke’s door, that dramatic robe swapped for a tee shirt that teased the tops of her thighs, boy shorts barely hidden from view, and a worn pair of slippers on her feet. She knocked casually on the door and greeted the man who opened it with a bright smile.

“Hey! Um, sorry to bother you so late and everything but my AC is out again and I’m dying over there. Do you have a fan or something I could borrow?”

[lilacwiinearchive]

WHY DO PEOPLE FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU?

because they see a piece of themselves in you.

all it took to love you was seeing a piece of themselves in you and now they don't know if they'll ever stop loving you. or if they ever want to stop loving you.

because you feel alive.

falling in love with you is like jumping off a cliff into the water, knowing the sea will catch your fall. like looking up into the endless sky.

tagged by: @kiissme and @intcxications​

tagging: anyone!! everyone!!

[cxlestialbeings-a]

is it just me or is tumblr really a fucking horrible shitstorm like... 90-95% of time??

[inkshadow]

tag dump 3.

[marvelous-harry]

Caught In a Lie Part 2

Harry/Florence/Reader Warnings: Needles, Dom!Harry, Dom!Florence, Sub!Fem!Reader Words: 4.9K Summary: It's time for the dreaded doctor's appointment. A/N: This took so long to finish cause of life and general writers' block. Hopefully, the story will be worth the wait! Part 1 “Babe, it’s time to wake up,” Harry whispered as he sat down at the edge of the bed and stroked a hand over my hair. Whimpering, I pulled on the blankets while shaking my head. “Still sleepy,” I whispered. “Cuddle,” I added as I grabbed his hand and hugged it.

“It’s 9.30 am love. You need to get up and get ready. Your doctor’s appointment is at 11, remember?” Harry said softly, leaning down to hug me as he pressed kisses to my cheek.

“I don’t feel very well, we should reschedule,” I whispered, keeping my eyes firmly closed and burrowed further into my pillow and blankets.

“That just means it’s even more important that we go to the doctor, baby,” Harry sighed as he sat up.

“Nooo!” I protested as he put his hands around me and lifted me up. “No! I’m not going, you can’t make me. I want Flossie!” I whined as I finally opened my eyes and looked at him. “Flossie!” I whimpered and tried to get out of his hold.

“Florence is at work, she left hours ago. We are going to the doctor, now you have 45 minutes to get ready and have something to eat. I don’t care if you spend those minutes being a brat, I’ll take you over my knee and then drive you there while you’re still in your pajamas. That choice is yours,” Harry said sternly as he gripped my jaw.

I whimpered and hugged him tightly as he let my jaw go. “But I don’t want a spanking!” I told him, pouting as I looked up at him.

“Well you better behave then so I don’t have to spank you,” Harry said with a little smile as he poked my nose. Grumbling, I pressed my face against his neck and played with his cross necklace.

“I know you’re worried and overthinking it but I’ll be right next to you the whole time if that’s what you want. It’ll be over before you know it. You can squeeze my hand as tightly as you can the whole time,” Harry spoke gently. “You need to go get ready like a good girl now okay? I’ll go make you some toast for breakfast,” he said as he pulled back.

Nodding, I stopped playing with his necklace. “Okay but I don’t want any breakfast. I’m not hungry,” I told him as I started moving off his lap.

“I’ll chop you up some fruit and if you still don’t feel like having anything when you’re done getting ready we can just eat it later,” Harry replied as he got off the bed and pulled the blankets down and over to air them and the mattress out. I just hummed a little note as I walked into the bathroom to get a quick shower and get dressed.

-

Pulling the cardigan tightly around me, I chewed on my lip as I walked into the kitchen where I could hear Harry moving about. A quick glance at the clock let me know we should probably start driving into town soon.

“I’m ready,” I announced and sat down on one of the kitchen table chairs. Picking at my nails, I kept staring at them as Harry put a glass of juice and a little plate of different kinds of fruit on the table next to me.

Harry pulled up a chair and sat down in front of me. “You should try and eat some and have the juice,” he said, pulling the plate closer while nudging me with his knee.

I moved from my chair and sat down on his leg. Twirling a strand of his hair around my fingers, I kissed his neck before moving up to his mouth. Closing my eyes, I kissed him eagerly as his hands went to my hips. Moaning, I stroked my hand down his t-shirt and over his crotch.

“Baby, stop,” Harry said as he ended the kiss and moved my hand off his crotch. “But I want to taste you. Please!” I pouted as I moved my hand back and stroked him gently.

Harry grabbed my arm firmly and moved it away. “That is enough. Did you think you could distract me from your appointment by offering a blow job like I’m some sex-crazed teenager? Hmmm? Do not try to manipulate me again. Now drink up your glass of juice, have a few pieces of each fruit. We need to get going,” Harry helped me off his lap before spinning me around and landing three hard smacks on my covered bum.

Sitting down, I wiped my eyes quickly before grabbing the glass of juice and chugging it down while Harry cleaned up the chopping board and wiped down the counters.

“Harry? I ate three of each, is that enough?” I asked as I pushed around a little blueberry on the plate.

Harry turned off the faucet and dried off his hands before walking over. He tilted my head up as he looked at me seriously. “Yes it is, thank you for listening. Do you understand why I got cross and gave you those smacks?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied quietly. “Not nice,”

“That’s right. We use our mouths to talk and we discuss if we want something, and we don’t use sex against each other to get our will either,”

“I’m sorry!” I whimpered, grabbing his hand and pressing a kiss to his wrist.

“You’re forgiven, I understand why you did it but next time I won’t be as l nice about it,” He explained and pulled me up from the chair. “Go put your shoes on, I’ll put this away,” he pressed a kiss to my cheek before grabbing the plate and the empty glass.

--

I could barely pay attention as the doctor asked me a bunch of routine questions so my answers were all over the place and before I knew it the actual doctors’ appointment was over and we were being told to go wait outside the lab for my turn to go in.

“I think I’m going to pass out,” I said as we stepped out of the doctor’s office and close the door behind us.

“Just keep breathing and if you do pass out I will catch you in my big strong arms,” Harry smiled as he put his hand around me.

“You’re not funny,” I huffed as I poked him hard in the side causing him to grin.

Waiting until Harry sat down, I took a seat in his lap and started plucking at my nails again as the nerves kept getting worse and worse.

Harry laced his fingers with mine and gave me a little smile as I leaned against him.

“Number 309?” A nurse asked as she stepped out into the hallway and looked around. I looked up at her wide-eyed and held my breath.

“Is it okay if I come in with her? She’s a little nervous about getting her blood drawn,” Harry smiled as he squeezed my hand.

“Of course! Why don’t you both take a seat at the examination table and we can have a little chat before we start,” the nurse smiled. I looked at her and she looked nice enough. Walking into the room, I took a seat next to Harry - never letting go of his hand.

“So you’re a little nervous?” the nurse asked as she sat down on her little rolling stool and moved closer to us. I nodded and bit down hard on my bottom lip.

“Is it the needle that makes you nervous or having your blood drawn? Or something else?” she asked, clasping her hands together as she looked at me. Harry stroked his thumb over my hand when I took a bit to answer.

“The needle,” I replied quietly and looked away. “I’m scared it’ll hurt or that it’ll break inside my arm,” I mumbled.

“It’s very common to feel that way. Have you had any bad experiences in the past with getting your blood drawn? Ever fainted or something like that?” she looked at me curiously. I nodded.

“I used to get sick a lot as a kid so I was at the doctors and the hospital quite often and it always hurt so much when they’d draw blood or put an IV in. And I’ve never fainted, just felt very lightheaded and like I was about to,” I explained.

“I see, I see. I can’t promise you won’t feel anything at all but it shouldn’t hurt. It should just feel like a little prick and maybe something like a pressure feeling as I move the needle just slightly into your arm. As for the needle breaking, it’s very very rare, I’ve not heard or seen it happen ever. The needles we use are made from stainless steel and it would take a great deal of force for it to break,” the nurse glanced at Harry.

“How are you with needles?” she asked while rolling over to her hand sanitizer and cleaning her hands.

“I’m good,” Harry smiled back with a small nod.

“Wonderful,” the nurse smiled as she looked back at me. “What would make you more comfortable going through the steps of what I need to do beforehand or telling you whilst I’m doing it or just do it with how I usually do it?”

I licked my lips nervously and looked at Harry for help. “You have to decide,” he urged me. “Emm just do as you normally do I guess. I don’t have to watch right?”

“No, you don’t have to watch. Could you take off your cardigan please?” she asked while grabbing her rolling tray and an arm support stand.

Letting go of Harry’s hand I slipped off my cardigan and rubbed my palms against my jeans as I looked over all the things on her tray. Blood vials in different colours, a sharps container, cotton balls, tape, and a bunch of needles were on it.

“Let’s see what hand looks the most promising,” the nurse mused as she gently turned over my arm and gave it a quick little glance before grabbing the tourniquet and securing it around my arm.

Grabbing Harry’s hand tightly, I turned my head against him and rested it against his shoulder as I tried to remember to breathe. Whimpering quietly as I felt her move my arm up on the arm support stand, and clean the inside of my elbow, I tensed up and held my breath.

“Baby, you have to breathe,” Harry whispered as he pressed a kiss to my head.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to think of anything else but the fact that I was about to be stabbed in the arm.

“Little pinch now,” the nurse said, causing me to squeeze Harry’s hand as tight as I could. I could feel my eyes welling up with tears and I felt slightly lightheaded as I could feel the needle going in.

“You’re doing really good, I’m almost done,” the nurse said encouragingly as she switched out the vial and put another one in. I did a sniffle and whimpered as I felt her pull the needle back out.

“That’s it! All done!” she grinned as she pressed down on the cotton ball she’d taped over the little needle prick. “The results of the blood tests will take a few days till a week and then they will be sent to your doctor and you’ll hear from her if there’s anything you need to know,” she patted my arm before she started cleaning up.

Sitting up, I looked down at my arm and pressed down on the cotton ball just in case I was still bleeding out.

“Are you feeling okay? Feeling any dizziness or like you’re about to faint?” she asked as she rolled the tray and the stand away.

I shook my head. “No, not now. I was a little lightheaded earlier but it’s gone now,” I grabbed my cardigan and held it close.

“Wonderful, that means you’re free to go,” the nurse said as she stood up and opened the door for us.

“Bye,” Harry waved as he took my hand and guided me out of the room. He glanced around the waiting room to the lab to check no one was around before kissing me hard.

“I’m so proud of you, darling! You did it! So brave,” Harry gushed and peppered little kisses on my cheek.

Giggling, I grinned. “I did it,” I said quietly and looked down at my arm again, feeling quite proud of myself.

“Come on, let’s go home,” Harry put his hand around my waist and held me close as we started heading out.

---

“I can’t wait to tell Flossie and show her. Do you know when she’s off work today?” I grinned while practically skipping up the three little steps to our front door.

Harry followed me up the stairs and unlocked the front door and held it open for me. “She’s already home,” he smiled and pointed at her keychain lying in our designated keychain bowl.

“Flossie!” I called out and kicked off my shoes. “Flossie, where are you?” I yelled again and listened for her reply while taking off my cardigan, getting ready to show her my ‘bandage’. Walking into the kitchen, I whined as she wasn’t there. “Florence!” I looked at Harry as I walked into the living room. “I can’t find her and she isn’t answering me!” I whined.

Harry rolled his eyes as he put his wallet away. “You checked one room, baby,” he chuckled and put his hands on my shoulders. “Let’s go see if she’s upstairs,” he said and turned me around.

“Well to be fair the kitchen is her favorite room in the whole house so the odds were in my favor,” I grumbled slightly while walking up the stairs. Opening the door to our bedroom, I grinned happily. “Flossie!” I shouted and ran over.

Florence jumped and took the AirPods out of her ears as she turned around in her seat by the vanity and looked at Harry, who gave her a smile and a little nod before she looked at me.

“I did it! Look! I didn’t faint, bleed to death or cry!” I said as I put my arm out and showed her the little cotton ball taped to my arm.

“Baby! I’m so proud of you! Come here,” Flo smiled and opened her arms.

Sitting down on her lap, I gave her a tight hug. “The nurse was super nice and Harry held my hand the whole time,” I explained while pulling back.

Flo looked over at Harry who had taken a seat on the bed and was looking at us endearingly. “Have you thanked him for coming with you?” she asked, running her hand up my thigh.

I shook my head no and bit my lip as she got closer and closer to my crotch.

“Well, that just won't do. Why don’t you be a good girl and ask him if he’d like your mouth or your pussy as a thank you,” she said while pulling her hand back.

I nodded as I stood up, got undressed, and stepped over to where Harry was before getting down on my knees in front of him. Looking him in the eyes, I put my hands behind my back and straightened up my back. “Thank you for coming with me today, Harry. I wouldn’t have been able to get through it without you. I’d like to make you feel good, please. Would you like my mouth or my pussy to use?” I asked.

Harry let his eyes roam all over me, making me all hot and bothered as he put his hands on his knees and leaned forward. “You want me to use you, baby? As my own little fuck toy?” he asked with a slight smirk.

“Yes, please,” I replied eagerly.

Harry stood up and took off his jumper before shrugging off the rest of his clothes, letting it all fall into a messy pile on the floor.

Putting my hands on my thighs, I looked at his cock and took a little breath to calm myself as Harry wrapped his fingers around his hardening cock and slowly stroked himself. “Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Quickly opening my mouth, I stuck my tongue out for good measure and looked at him eagerly.

“Pretty girl,” Florence smiled as she walked over and stood by Harry’s side, putting an arm around him. She too had gotten undressed.

My whole body heated up with embarrassment and horniness as they looked up at me sitting here with my mouth open, on my knees, and pussy on display.

“Go on, get your lips around me,” Harry said finally as he let go of his cock.

Shuffling closer, I grasped the base of his cock as I took him in my mouth. Moaning, I closed my eyes and licked at the cock head.

Flossie pulled Harry down for a kiss. “Fuck,” Harry muttered against her lips as he put one hand on my head, grasping my hair while the other wrapped around Florence, pulling her even closer.

Relaxing my jaw, I took a deep breath before slowly easing Harry’s cock into my mouth until it hit the back of my throat. I kept it in as long as I could before easing back a bit and just bobbing my head trying to make Harry moan or grip my hair tighter, something to let me know I was doing good.

Looking up I could see that Harry and Flossie were still making out, and Harry’s hand had traveled down to her bum, squeezing and stroking it, not paying nearly enough attention to me.

I moved off his cock and licked at the head before letting my tongue lick from the base of his cock and all the way up to the head before taking just the cock head in my mouth and sucking on it.

“Fuck, that’s nice,” Harry moaned and stroked my hair. “We should move to the bed. I want to eat you out,” he said as he looked at Florence.

“No objections from me,” Flossie grinned as she got up on the bed and piled the pillows together to lean on before spreading her legs.

“I want to eat you out too!” I protested as I stood up and quickly got on the bed, crawling quickly up the mattress - wanting to get to her pussy first.

“You come lie next to me, you can eat me out later. Harry is going first,” Florence patted the spot next to her.

Letting out a loud whine, I shook my head and moved a little closer to her pussy. “Me first!”

“Don’t be a greedy brat. Move,” Harry said sharply before landing a hard smack on my bum.

“It’s not fair!” I grumbled as I moved over and lied down next to Flossie, cuddling up to her as I watched Harry get between her legs. “I’m the sub, I’m the one who’s supposed to eat pussy, and suck cocks, and give you pleasure!” I protested, sticking out my bottom lip.

“If that was the case you’d never be on the receiving end of oral ever, darling,” Florence chuckled before letting out a breathy moan when Harry spread her pussy lips apart and swiped his tongue up before giving her clit a little suck.

“Well obviously it’s your job as my doms to take care of me,” I mumbled as I watched Harry.

“You clearly need to get spanked more. Such a fucking brat,” Flossie said before smacking my ass.

Harry pushed Flossie’s legs further apart with a smirk before pushing his face close and licking at her hole.

“Fuck!” Flo moaned loudly and reached down, grabbing onto his hair and pulling him even closer. “Your fucking tongue,” she hissed.

Licking my lips as I moaned. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Harry looked so good with his face buried between her legs. I didn’t know who I was more jealous of. Harry or Flossie.

“Can I touch myself, please?” I asked and glanced up at Florence. I knew I was soaking wet, feeling the slick going down my thighs.

“Don’t you dare. You’ll get the attention you so badly want in a minute,” Florence replied in between moans.

Biting my lip, I tried to ignore how that sounded more like a threat than a pleasant promise. I got up on my knees and put my hands down on my thighs as I figured it wasn’t too late to start behaving and maybe convince them I wasn’t that much of a brat.

Harry moved his lips up to Flossie’s clit and flicked his tongue over it quickly while opening his eyes and looking up at her.

“So close,” Flo moaned as she tightened her hold on his hair and rolled her hips against his tongue. Throwing her head back as Harry sucked and licked at her clit faster, Florence let out a long moan as she cummed. She panted as she closed her eyes and let go of Harry’s hair.

Harry took one last lick at her pussy before pressing a kiss to her clit. He climbed over her leg and wrapped a hand around my throat, squeezing lightly as he leaned in and kissed me.

Moaning against his lips, I spread my legs as I felt Flossie stroking her hand up my thigh and stroked her thumb over my clit.

“Please. Want to cum,” I begged as two of Flo’s fingers prodded at my hole but didn’t go in. “Please,” Harry took his hand off my neck and let it fall to my boobs, taking one in each hand and used his fingers to flick at my hard nipples.

Whining as I thrust my hips into Florence’s hand. “Please! Stop teasing, I’m so close already,”

“Lie down on your back,” Harry instructed before giving nipples one final tug before letting them go.

Eagerly lying down, I spread my legs wide apart and looked at them both pleadingly. “Flossie, Harry, please,”

Florence leaned over me and kissed me slowly while she rested her hand on my lower stomach. “You want Harry to fuck you, darling? Make you cum?” she asked just as Harry teased his cockhead against my pussy lips.

Nodding quickly, I took a deep breath to try and calm down. “Please! You know I get so turned on watching you two, so hot,” I said while glancing between them.

“Oh, we know,” Harry smirked before thrusting his cock into me.

“Oh god, fuck!” I gasped, grasping onto the bedsheets and arching my back.

“All better now? Got your pussy all full and nice,” Florence teased running her fingertips up and down my stomach. I nodded, enjoying how Harry was thrusting in and out of me so deeply.

“She’s so fucking wet, love” Harry groaned as he dug his fingernails into the skin of my hips. “Don’t blame her. You’re very sexy when you get eaten out,” he grinned.

Florence chuckled and moved closer to give him a hot, deep kiss. “Not as sexy as you look between my legs,” she gave him one more kiss before giving my clit a little slap.

Letting out a little shout, I clenched around Harry’s cock and looked at them shocked. “I think I just came,” I said quietly and panted.

“From me slapping you? Did it feel nice?” she asked as she rubbed her finger over my clit.

Whimpering, I squirmed as it was even more sensitive now. “Yeah, definitely came, and no! I barely felt anything,” I whined and looked at them sadly.

“Poor little slut. Didn’t get to cum the way she wanted,” Harry teased while Florence kept rubbing my clit. “Nearly cummed as well when you clenched so tightly around me,” he said while fucking me faster and harder.

“With Harry being so generous and fucking you so nicely I think you can cum again, darling,” Florence smiled widely as she brought her hand up to my mouth and put two fingers into my mouth.

Sucking on them, I blushed and held her hand as she fucked my mouth slowly with her fingers.

“Yeah, you can,” Flo smirked and took out her fingers and put the wet fingers on my clit, stroking them up and down.

“Fuck, Flossie, please. Too sensitive,” I whined but pushed up against her and Harry as I could feel the familiar feeling of an orgasm building again. Her wet, soft fingers felt so good as she rubbed them over my clit.

Harry sped up his thrusts. “Going to cum soon,” he warned, closing his eyes as he held on even tighter to my hips.

Florence started swiping at my clit faster. “Doesn’t that sound nice, baby? Get filled up on Harry’s cum? Making him feel so good, pet. Such a good girl for us aren’t you?” she whispered close to my ear.

“Good girl for you,” I mumbled out, my fingers twitching against the bed. “I’m gonna cum,” I moaned, feeling so close again. “Please, can I? Need to cum,”

“You can cum, baby. Cum around Harry’s cock,” Florence said moving her fingers as fast as she could while Harry fucked me just as fast.

Moaning loudly, I held on tightly to the bedsheets as I cummed for the second time. Harry was moaning as well, blending together with mine as he buried his cock deep into me, filling me up.

He was breathing heavily and a strand of hair was handing over his forehead as he did a few lazy thrusts. “Fucking hell,” he breathed out before pulling out slowly.

Florence stopped rubbing at my clit and pushed her fingers into my pussy. “Jesus, you weren’t lying when you said she was wet,” she chuckled and did a few thrusts with her fingers before pulling them out. “Taste yourself and Harry,” she said and held the fingers to my lips.

Shuddering, I poked my tongue out and let it swipe over her fingers before opening my mouth and sucking off his cum mixed with my juices. I couldn’t help but moan at the taste and clean every inch of her fingers.

“Fucking hell, going to make me hard again already,” Harry said as he watched, propping himself up on his elbow.

Flo moved her fingers back down and eased them into me again.

Again, I couldn’t help the little moan that escaped me.

Florence smirked as she pumped her fingers into me a few more times before pulling them out and landing a smack to my pussy.

Letting out a little scream, I whimpered as I looked up at her with tired, hazy eyes. “Please, no more” I begged, seeing the look in her eyes.

“You got one more in you, I know it, pet. Harry, why don’t you pass me that clit vibrator that’s in the drawer and hold her hands down for me?” she asked and held out her hand.

“No, please. It’s too much, Flossie, please, I can’t cum again,” I pleaded as I brought my legs together and placed my hands over my pussy to protect myself while letting out a little sob.

“Here,” Harry handed over the vibrator before grabbing my arms and putting them over my head. He held them together with one of his hands and pulled on one of my nipples while he gave me a kiss. “Just one more, you can do it,” he whispered.

Florence spread my legs and kneeled between them as she ran a teasing finger over my sensitive clit. “You can cum when you need to,” she said while placing the vibrator against my clit.

Whimpering, I squirmed and tried to lift my arms up but they were so tired they had no chance against Harry’s grip. I got the tiniest little warning as I could hear Florence turning on the vibrator before I felt it come to life. My eyes closed and my mouth fell open as I tensed up. I could feel my orgasm building up but fuck it hurt so good. “P-please,” I stuttered out and tried opening my eyes to look at them but my eyelids were too heavy.

Harry kissed my nipple before taking it in his mouth. He placed his teeth around and pulled on it slowly before letting it go. “Turn it to the highest setting,” he told Flo and looked at her with a grin.

There was a quiet little click again before the vibrations got super strong. Pressing my heels down onto the bed, I arched up slightly and my legs trembled as I orgasmed for the third time. Collapsing back down on the mattress, I felt the vibrator getting turned off and Harry letting go of my arms.

Catching my breath, I smacked my lips as I let Harry and Flo move me around till I was under the blankets. “M’melted,” I mumbled as Harry wrapped his hands around me and pulled me close to his chest.

“Get some rest, darling. You’ve earned it,” Flossie said softly and pressed a little kiss to my forehead. I just hummed before my breath evened out and I fell into a deep, restful sleep.

Masterlist