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#enjoy!!!
archive-rat · 6 months
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a silly little design for the residents of love island
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pommegrantaire · 2 months
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💕🩵Happy Valentine’s Day !!💛💕
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stevebabey · 1 month
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hi rubes!!! i was curious on ur thoughts on what a lazy sunday with steve would look like? esp if its one that like both ur day off and its smth that hasnt happened in a long time
hi angel!! sorry i sat on this one for awhile, i hope i made up for it by making it sooooo lovey dovey <3 0.8k, gn!reader
By some miracle, you're the first awake.
Steve is like a kind of sheep dog— he requires frequent exercise and so, he usually slips a run in the morning before you're even close to awake.
And also because of the shaggy hair and the way he seems to wag an invisible tail when all his favourite people are gathered in the same room, even going around and rounding them up, checking on everyone— Okay, you get the point, analogy over.
Actually, point is, you getting up before Steve like never happens.
Scratch that, you and Steve getting a day off to sleep in on the same day never happens. And even more, Steve very rarely skips his morning run because, y'know, sheep dog and all.
Basically, you figure this whole morning is a wondrous crafted little miracle. You have no plans to waste it.
Peering across your pillow, you watch the rise and fall of Steve's chest as he sleeps, your softened gaze roaming over his face gently. He looks younger in his sleep, pillowy lips parted lightly. His moles beg to be kissed. His hair is a mess. It's lost all its volume, lying flat against the pillow and urging you to run your fingers through it.
You ignore the urge in favor of slipping out from under the comforter. quiet as you can.
Steve's annoyingly good at spoiling you and is less than receptive to letting you return the sentiment. With one last glance back at bed, you let out a soft sigh, a honeyed noise, and head to the kitchen.
Steve's favourite mug is this wonky one that Dustin made once upon a time, some pottery class at one of his camps. You stare at it, glazed eyes taking in an alarmingly amount of detail on the cup, as the coffee brews behind you. Its scent wafts through the room. You've woken a dozen times to it, when it's Steve up and about, fixing a beverage for you.
It's cute, you think, that he still uses Dustin's mug for his coffee. By cute you mean, you can't think about it for too long or you'll stamp back down to the bedroom and kiss your boyfriend til your lips are blue and—
"Ooh, coffee?" Steve announces his presence with his words, partially garbled by his loud yawn. He halfheartedly covers his mouth, the hoodie he's haphazardly chucked on misaligned enough that it hangs over his hand adorably. He shuffles into the kitchen tiredly and despite his introduction, he heads right to you.
You can't resist a pout. Steve takes a moment to notice it, too happily distracted sidling up and worming his arms around your middle.
When he does, he tilts his head to the side. "What?"
"You couldn't let me bring it to you in bed?"
He grins. "I'm sorry. Was that the plan?"
"You know it was." You mumble grouchily, not upset at all. You push a hand into his chest, giving him a little shove. "You're always doin' this stuff for me but you don't ever let me do it for you."
Steve softens unbearably, his grin getting all gooey at the sides. He looks a little lovestruck, messy hair and all. It takes immense will to continue your upset facade. You nudge his chest again, your head inclining towards the bedroom.
"What?" His eyebrows jump, expression a mixture of incredulity and affectionate. "Y'want me to get back in bed? So you can come bring it to me?"
You smile, nudging his chest again and grinning when he starts to take a couple steps back, heading towards the bedroom. "Yes. Exactly that."
"You're absurd."
You poke your tongue out him. "You love it."
Steve moves forward abruptly, his hands cradling your face gently as he leans and steals a kiss from you. He retracts just as fast, looking far too pleased with himself.
"Yes, I do," He agrees, still wandering backwards. He disappears into your bedroom and you're left standing there with your own lovesick grin. God, you love him. Your heart feels like spun sugar in your chest, airy and sweet beyond relief.
To which Steve is no help at all when you walk into the bedroom, carefully holding the mug so it doesn’t spill. He's tucked back in bed, pretending to be asleep, only to wake with the grace of a Disney princess at your footsteps.
He faux yawns and pretends to jump at your presence, scampering to sit up in bed so he can accept the coffee from you. "Oh wow, what a surprise this is!"
"Shut up. You think you're soo funny, huh?" you mumble, handing the coffee over. Your aching smile gives away just how funny you think he is.
"Mmhm," Steve hums as he takes a sip. You've made it just the way he likes it. He parrots your earlier words. "You love it."
You lean in, mindful of the mug, and kiss him sweetly. He tastes of coffee and cream and he chases your lips for a second kiss when you pull back. You aim for tiredly amused but the words come out devastatingly sincere anyway. "Yeah, I do."
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bluebelledmoon · 25 days
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i miss wind waker
what do you mean this wasn't how it went
original from 2 years ago under the cut!
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straykidsholicleigh · 3 months
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Popular (Teaser 2)
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Pairing: badboy!hyunjin x virgin!fem!reader
Rating: Explicit
Character Mention: Minho, Karina
Warnings: cunnilingus, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) reader is insecure :(, reader is skinny (body like rosè or somi), use of names (babe, baby, doll, darling, bitch, slut, whore)
! none of the characters in this fic act this way in real life. It's for imagination purposes !
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
“That hoodie looks nice on you.” Hyunjin commented, eyeing you up and down as he swung his legs open, manspreading on the couch. You looked at him, a smile creeping up on your face as you silently sat down on the couch next to him, zipping it up all the way.
He watched as you settled your hair, grabbing his black nail polish from the table and shaking it up, looking at him and down at the naill polish. “Sorry, do you not want me to use it?” You asked, eyes big and cute. He smiled, shaking his head and motioning you to apply it. You opened the bottle, dipping it into the polish and neatly applied it to your nails.
Hyunjin always thought you looked sexy like this, short messy hair falling gracefully on your face, oversized clothes and your big rounded glasses framing your features so elegantly. It wasn't your fault you were skinny, but he loved your body either way. God, he just wanted to bend you over the couch, rip your panties off and fuck you 'till your crying and begging him to stop.
Your hardened nipples poked against the fabric of his hoodie due to the cold air, the hoodie riding up everytime you settled yourself, your black laced panties revealing themselves. He imagined what your cunt tasted like, your juices sweet as he lapped up everything, circling your clit as you cried out his name.
Your warm cunt taking his cock, sucking him in and clenching around him, making him see stars. He would force his fingers into your mouth, making you suck them as he wrecked your fluttering pussy, pulling orgasm out of orgasm-
“Hyunjin?”
He snapped out of his daze upon hearing his name slip from your mouth. “Yeah?” He answered, looking at you and closing his thighs completely, afraid that you'll notice his growing boner. “Your drooling. Are you hungry?” He put his hand over his mouth and cursed, grabbing a napkin from the coffee table and wiping his mouth. He nodded his head.
“Yeah, was just thinking about dinner. Fried chicken and pizza sound good?” You shyly nodded your head, pushing your hair back as you grabbed the tv remote, your hoodie riding up even more as you made yourself comfortable.
“I'll order it then.” He answered as you hummed, his eyes trailing to your panties.
Final warning, if you wanna apart of the taglist message or comment!!
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greenishghostey · 1 year
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The Gang's All Here
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: Your friends had told you on several occasions that still having stuffed animals on your bed at twenty years old would be a boner killer for your boyfriend. Luckily, your boyfriend made up elves and orcs on the regular. Some stuffed animals weren't gonna scare him off so easily.
Word Count: 4,979 (2,200 of this is the smut, im sorry)
Warnings: 18+ content MDNI, graphic smut, p in v, protected sex, face sitting/riding, enthusiastic pussy eating, fluffy smut, sort of sub!Eddie, extensive dirty talk, this guy cannot shut up ever, established relationship, enthusiastic consent (everyone's having a grand ol' time), a lot of affection, the stuffed animals don't watch, I think that's all please let me know if I missed anything!
Author's Note: Hi everyone, I wrote fluffy filthy again! This came from me seeing one of those Eddie + text post pictures saying, "she let me hit because I was polite to her squishmallows". That is why this exists. Please enjoy because this was so much fun to write! Also, I know that this definitely isn't an original idea, I think I've read fics similar to this but can't think of the exact ones right now. But, I know they're out there. DO NOT REPOST OR EDIT MY WORK
///
Being 20 years old and still living with your parents in the sleepy town of Hawkins wasn’t anything to sniff at. Some people have to work a little after high school before packing up and moving anywhere else. It also helped that you had a boyfriend who was on his third try at senior year. He was a pretty cool reason to stick around your dull hometown. Eddie made it all a bit more colourful. 
You and Eddie had been dating for a few months. You had been friendly in high school, but then he started flirting with you when he came into the grocery store. Eddie was a smooth talker when he wanted to be, and it had worked on you. He had knocked over a candy bar rack at your register but also had cleaned it all up. The sweetheart that he was.
Your relationship was great. It was adorable. It was intimate. It was healthy. You guys were best friends and told each other every little thing, regardless of how insignificant it may seem. Eddie told you about his passion for writing and about his family. You told him about your future plans beyond Hawkins - him hopefully being included - and your past and present knitting projects. He wanted a burgundy hat and scarf set for his birthday. A bobble hat was preferred - he wasn’t sure if those were hard to make, so he wasn’t too picky. 
However, there was one thing that you had kept from Eddie. You had worked pretty hard to hide away this tiny part of yourself whenever he came to your house. Shoving the incriminating objects into a box at the back of your closet, even though it pained you to do so. 
It was embarrassing to be 20 years old and still have a beloved little group of stuffed animals perched on your bed. Well, that’s what your friends had told you anyway. No guy would want to fuck a girl while a fluffy lizard, Reggie, from the Indianapolis zoo, is staring at him. 
In addition to little Reg, there were three others. Woolia, a fleecy sheep that you got on your third birthday. Jules, a light blue dolphin with big shiny eyes. Finally, there was Mimi, a fluffy white unicorn that had been with you since birth. 
The soft animals had been with you through thick and thin for the majority of your life. First days of school, homework meltdowns, the day you figured out what boys were. All of the essential milestones had been witnessed by their little plastic eyes. They were as much your family as your parents were. 
But you couldn’t bring yourself to let Eddie know about them in any capacity. Hiding them away was a tedious task. If Eddie said he would pick you up from work, you’d shove them in the box before you left for your shift. If Eddie stopped by, you’d tell him you had to tidy your room before he could come in. He always laughed and insisted that he would be fine if your room were like a bomb site. He was too modest for his own good, but he still wasn’t seeing your fluffy little secrets.
-
You had just dragged yourself home from a, quite frankly, hellish evening shift. Your shift was supposed to finish at 9, but your manager had bitched at you enough to make you stay for an extra hour. Fridays from 5-8 were discount hours and the time frame when everyone came to buy their weekend booze. Older people were horrendous when their favourite beer brand was out of stock - like you had personally gone to the trouble of buying every pallet of the dishwater piss just to be annoying.
There was some Chinese takeout in the microwave for you since your parents had headed off to their respective night shifts at the hospital. You balanced two boxes - sesame chicken and chow mein - with a can of Pepsi in your arms as you dashed up the stairs to your bedroom. Fresh pyjamas were waiting for you, Eddie had lent you his copy of Fellowship of The Ring, and you were so ready to turn your brain off and-
“Honey, you’re home!” The chipper voice almost made you drop everything. A chill ran down your spine, and, honestly, you felt like you were going to start eroding away into the atmosphere from humiliation. Eddie was lounging on your bed, his waves splayed over your pillows, and soft animals moved carefully to be at his sides - two on each side, making sure no one felt left out. “What you got in the boxes? And can we share?” 
You stood at the foot of your bed, taking in the weirdly domestic image in front of you, “why are you here?” you asked, voice sounding distant. 
Eddie’s brows furrowed, and he began to sit up, “Should’ve asked first, knew I should’ve. Sorry, just thought it would be all romantic and shit, ya know.” He mumbled. Eddie looked very dejected. Had he overstepped a boundary? Did you want your alone time? God, he could be so dumb sometimes when it came to you.
Shaking your head, you moved to put down the takeout boxes and your bag, “No, no. Don’t worry,” you smiled, patting his thigh as you passed him, “just wasn’t expecting to see you all comfortable and cosy there with - with all that.” 
“I am pretty comfy. These lil guys kept me company until you got back.” Eddie beamed, practically melting into your sheets and gesturing to your stuffed animals. Did he like them? He didn’t think it was weird that you still had them. Your expression showed that your mind was running a mile a minute when you really should be starting to relax. He knew that evening shifts were the pits for you. “How come I’ve never met the gang before?” 
“The gang?” You snorted, pulling off your sports jacket and throwing it on your clothes chair, “I just thought it was a little kiddy to still have stuffed animals on my bed. Was worried you’d - I dunno.”
“Worried I’d what? You know who you’re talking to?” Eddie raised his eyebrows, fixing you with a look that made you squirm, “some fluffy little secrets aren’t gonna scare me off, promise.” 
“You sure you don’t think they’re weird?” Your voice wasn’t more than a mumble as you sat down beside him on the bed, “the girls said they’re kind of a boner killer.”
Eddie’s eyes widened, and he started to wriggle his way over to you to lay his head in your lap. When he was in this type of mood - a big softie mood - you had to wonder why you thought he’d care about some stuffed toys. Those thoughts didn’t soothe your anxiety entirely, though; you would need to hear the confirmation from him - potentially in writing, for your own sanity. His big, molasses eyes stared up at you with a determined look. God, he was going to monologue in a minute, and it was going to be correct, and you would feel all mushy.
“I want names, place of origin, and lore if you got any,” Eddie stated, counting on each of his fingers to really hammer in his point and make it clear that he was interested. It warmed your heart in a way you hadn’t felt since your first date with him. Of course, the guy warmed your very soul on a near-daily basis. But when he showed just how much he cared, it made the butterflies in your stomach go haywire. “We’re starting with the sheep. Obviously. Give me the deets.” He picked up Woolia and placed her on his chest, arranging her hooves properly.
You couldn’t fight back the grin that spread from ear to ear. Your fingers gently carded through Eddie’s hair as you introduced him to the ‘gang’ “This is Woolia.”
Eddie barked out a laugh at the name, not in malice but in a combination of pride and pleasant surprise, “I never knew you were so creative, babe.”
“Shut up. Do you want the full run down or not?” You teased, flickering his forehead lightly until he stopped laughing. “As I was saying, I’ve had Woolia since I was 3. My grandma got her for me when she went to Wyoming.”
“A Wyomingite? Christ, it’s a good thing she’s cute.” Eddie grimaced, moving the small sheep from his chest and putting her back in her original place. He was so careful with her - you usually squished her in your sleep and woke up with her under your tailbone. “Green gecko dude next.” 
Reggie was whisked from his spot and placed onto Eddie’s chest, now the introduction stage for your stuffed animals. You had been so concerned about being embarrassed if Eddie ever caught wind of them. Yet here he was, demanding all information on each of them individually.
“This is Reggie, short for Reginald Von Scales II,” you were interrupted by yet another loud chuckle from Eddie. He was having the time of his life - he might have to start asking you to help with character names for this campaign. “Yeah, I’m hilarious, I know. Anyway, I got Reggie when I was eight and went to the big zoo in Indianapolis with my parents. All the stuffed animals in the gift shop were begging to be taken home. My dad said since I was good, I could get anyone I wanted. Reggie was hidden at the back of a shelf, and I knew I had to get him when I saw him.” 
Talking about the origins of these soft creatures was nostalgic and brought a warmness to your body that was relaxing. So many great memories were linked to the toys, and now you’d have a new one with Eddie there.
“Hey, he’s kinda like me! You could’ve had your pick of guys around here, but you chose little ol’ me.” Eddie enthused. He blinked his eyelashes up at you and wiggled his eyebrows - screw Woolia; it was a good thing he was cute. “You got me from the very, very back of the man shelf. Like, you must have been digging for some weird shit to get - well, this.” He gestured to himself.
Your gaze softened. He wasn’t “weird shit”. He wasn’t just any guy. Sure, he was pushed to the back of the line when it came to discussing eligible bachelors around Hawkins, but he was all yours now. That’s all that mattered. “I’ve got specific, immaculate taste, and I’ll be damned if it wasn’t being met.” You stated matter of factly. 
“Aw, you always know how to make a dude swoon.” Eddie sighed dreamily. Christ, he was a mushy idiot. If anyone saw him like this, his reputation would be in the toilet. “Reggie is the running for the favourite. Let’s see what blue boy here can bring to the table.” Eddie made the switch between Reggie and Jules, the extra soft dolphin.
“Jules is just… Jules. Got both boy and girl vibes, if I’m honest.” You explained, shrugging at Eddie, who nodded in understanding, “Got them in a thrift store with my mom when I was five, I think? Another case of a toy sitting on a shelf and me deciding to call forever dibs.” 
A giddy smirk appeared on Eddie’s face, “you’ve got a thing for picking up strays, huh?” He was wiggling his eyebrows again, so you flicked his forehead again. 
“Stop acting like you’re some flea-infested cat. I’ll get mad.” You huffed, trying your best to sound genuinely stern with him, but it definitely didn’t work. You ran your thumb across his knuckles as he started poking Jules’ squishy head. 
Eddie took hold of your offered hand and kissed the back of it, “fine, I’ll quit bad-mouthing your man.”
“Thank you very much. Now, onto Mimi.” 
“I did save the unicorn for last,” You knew that. If there was anything to do with the high fantasy genre, Eddie would be all over it. Even the pretty magic horses. 
“She is the oldest of the bunch. Been perched by those pillows since before I can remember.” You informed, fixing a stray tuft of hair on her bright mane. “My mom has a ton of photos of me carrying her around everywhere.”
Eddie looked at the unicorn toy with a distinct fondness, a soft smile and an even softer gaze.
“What’s got you all smiley?”
“Nothin’, that’s just really sweet, is all. Mimi’s had your back forever.” You didn’t know if you wanted to kiss or smother him with a pillow. He was too fucking adorable when he was like this. 
“I guess she has, yeah.” You breathed, running your fingers through Eddie’s hair again, “What do you think of the gang then?”
“Big, big fan. I think Reg is my favourite. He’s got that underdog vibe going on, which I respect.” Eddie leaned over and tried to give the gecko plush a fist bump with his finger. 
You weren’t sure what came over you. A warmth had been stirring inside you since Eddie put his head on your lap and was polite to your stuffed animals. He listened closely and handled them like they were valuable to him too. The intimacy of this whole situation was not lost on you. If anything, you were far too aware of it. Eddie loved you and your quirks the same way you loved him and his. 
You bit your bottom lip slightly and turned to glance down at the blissful man in your lap.
“C’mere a sec,” Eddie said, leaning up on his elbows. You knew what “c’mere” meant, so you let Eddie place one of his hands on the back of your head, bringing your lips together. The kiss was so sweet. The usual saccharine kisses that the town’s resident satan worshipper was a big fan of laying on you at any opportunity. Eddie’s lips were always soft as his kiss became firmer. 
He pulled away by a hair to sit back against your pillows and guided you to straddle his thighs before diving back into your waiting, wanting mouth. You were hungrier for him now. The warmth in your stomach was being fueled as Eddie ran his hands up your thighs to rest of your ass. Feeling the fat and groaning when you shifted your hips - your ass and thighs drove the poor guy mad, and you loved it.
Your eyes opened slightly to make sure you closed your bedroom door but made contact with Mimi's big, black plastic eyes. Quickly, you pulled away from Eddie with heaving pants. It felt like torture to let him go at that moment. The stiff bulge of his cock pressing into your clothed cunt. Yeah, the gang was going to have to move - and move quickly.
“Wait, wait, Eddie,” You panted, clambering off his lap.
“What? You good? Did I get the wrong hole?” Eddie rambled, sitting up abruptly and looking more than a little frazzled. He was all rosy cheeks and glossy eyes, and he had to ruin it by thinking it’d simulated anal. So charming. 
“No, you’d know if you’d done that, trust me,” You said as you gently placed your plush friends on the carpet, far away from your bed and facing the wall. It wasn’t a comfortable position, but they would have to deal with it while you rode your boyfriend until he screamed.
“Ah. You don’t want an audience, I gotcha,” Eddie nodded, winking at you from his spot on your bed. Satisfied with the gang’s relocation, you turned back to Eddie, pulling off your work shirt and getting to work on your jeans. 
Eddie quickly got the hint and nearly ripped his baseball tee while trying to get it over his head fast enough. His belt was launched somewhere in your room as he opened his arms to welcome you back onto his lap. Your hungry mouth again devoured his in a wet kiss, full of groans and rapid breaths. Eddie made quick work on your bra, having become intimately acquainted with this particular nude one. It was an old faithful that you didn’t want him to see as much as he did, but that’s just how getting naked seemed to go for you both. 
You threw yourself onto the mattress beside Eddie and started to claw at your jeans to get them off. Eddie followed suit as you were both in a tangle of legs and denim, fidgeting desperately to get that glorious skin-to-skin contact. 
Once down to your underwear, you grabbed Eddie’s head and pulled him in so you could lick, kiss and nibble at his pulse point. He really loved it when you got grabby and roughed him up a little. The lack of control over your own strength had his cock twitching in his boxers. 
“Can we do that thing, please?” You sighed, running your fingers up and down Eddie’s chest. Fuck, you were sweating and close to humping your cunt into Eddie’s erection - chasing friction that only he could give you. 
Eddie moaned when your fingertips grazed his nipples, his darkened eyes struggling to say open, “Which one? There’s a couple. We can do anything you want, babe.” You could punch him, kick him or rip his hair out right now and he’d be so cool with it. 
Eddie was finally getting to experience heaven. The god squad of Hawkins would be so jealous of him. You wrapped your legs around his waist and rolled him onto his back with a bounce, pinning him and shooting him a toothy grin. 
“Me riding you. Everywhere. Face, cock. Sound like a plan?” You chirped, wiggling your hips how he liked it. Faking some innocence in the moment was too fun to pass up. Plus, riling Eddie up was a surefire way to make him lose his mind in the best ways. 
Eddie nodded so fast he almost gave himself whiplash, “Amazing idea. God, my lady’s so smart.” He grabbed the backs of your thighs and pulled you towards his head while he shifted his body down the bed. Eating your cunt was one of Eddie’s favourite pastimes, but it was so much better when you rode his face and used him to get yourself off. 
You had forgotten to pull your panties off before straddling your boyfriend’s head. Usually, this would have led to you fiddling and contorting yourself to get them off. 
Not today, though. Eddie just grabbed the lace trim, yanked them to the side, so they bit into your ass cheek and shoved his face into your dripping cunt. 
“Fuck yes, thank you,” Eddie groaned before licking and sucking your clit. He was like a man starved as he groped and massaged your ass, making sure you wouldn’t hold back on him. 
You let your head lull back as your mouth opened in a silent moan, your hips beginning to grind and ride his full lips and hot tongue. The wet, sloppy sounds of Eddie, essentially making out with your hole and clit brought a feral smile to your face. God, he always made you smile so big that your face hurt in the best way. 
Eddie started shaking his head between your legs, his tongue circling your hole before returning to flicking your puffy, needy clit. 
“Still can’t believe you let me do this,” Eddie sighed, saliva and your wet covering his flushed lips, “‘m I making you feel good, sweetheart?” 
Your moans were getting louder and more hoarse as Eddie started to move your hips himself, urging you to use him. You loved when he talked like that - his tongue, his lips, his voice. His mouth was everything. 
“Y-Yes, yes. You really want me to drench your pretty face, huh?” You giggled, sweet sighs of ecstasy huffing from your throat. Eddie whined while his tongue fucked you. “Pretty, pretty boy - fuck, please.”
“Shit - yeah, you taste fucking incredible. Gimme it all, babe, ah fuck.”
Eddie doubled down his efforts. Straining his neck a little to fuck up into you with more force and precision. You were leaking down his chin and making yourself all sticky. A blissful state, full of love and affection. Eddie huffed a laugh on your cunt as he saw the dreamy smirk on your lips. 
Groaning, whining, cursing. You two must have sounded like animals in heat as the springs in your mattress started to bounce and squeak. The room was that familiar warm - cosy, somewhat comfortable sweat and the smell of sex. 
Eddie forced your cunt down more onto his face. He would gladly suffocate right then and there. He needed your cum before you rode him because he knew he wouldn’t last long. Eddie liked the mess; it was filthy and made him feel so alive. But the lady has to finish first, and then you keep going until she nearly rips your damn head off. Eddie got that tip from a magazine one time. 
“Christ, you’re so so good - fuck, Eddie, your mouth!” You growled. You tended to make much deeper sounds when you were close. Eddie felt like he was going to blow his load in his boxers. “Just a little m-more.”
“Uh huh, uh huh,” Eddie chanted wetly, “Please - soak my pretty face.” 
That did it. 
Your hands knotted further into Eddie’s sweaty hair and gripped it like a lifeline as you wailed your release. He always liked when you pulled his hair. It made his eyes roll back in such a beautiful way. That was no different now. Big brown eyes were glazed over as they rolled into Eddie’s skull; you could feel a smug smile on his face. You gave him all of you, just like he wanted. You were the fucking best. 
You moved down Eddie’s torso in panting silence to straddle him again. You couldn’t wait for him to get his boxers off entirely, so you pulled them down enough for his swollen cock to slap against his stomach. It had become a talent of yours to make quick yet effective work of getting a condom on. Eddie fucking you raw was going to be on the table at some point, just not tonight. Too risky.
Fuck, he felt like he was going to scream or melt or just-
There was a distinct, sloppy slap. Followed by two even louder cries of pleasure. You knew that Eddie would slip inside you without any resistance. You needed him too much. 
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re spoiling me today.” Eddie giggled, staring up at you through heavy lids. “Do I get all this because I was friendly with the gang?” He settled back into your pillows and basked in the warm embrace of your cunt. 
You mewled at the feeling of being so full - it may have sounded shallow, but you loved his cock so goddamn much. “You were just so damn polite to ‘em. It’s hot seeing you be all sweet and caring.” 
“They’re important to you, ‘course I’m gonna be polite.” Eddie laughed. “They’ve taken care of you for ages, and now it’s my job to help out, right?” He smoothed his thumbs across your hips. 
“Eddie…” you sighed, caressing his face. His dreamy, beautiful, smug face. He was just so good to you and to the world. It always hurt that you were one of the few who truly understood that he had a heart of gold, in addition to being a weirdo. But he was your weirdo. “Love ya, Munson.” 
After your tooth-rotting words reached his ears, you started to grind down onto his stiff length. Eddie couldn’t do much, but he groaned in agreement with you. He never knew how good being ridden could feel without any bouncing. Sure, he adored when you bounced on his cock, chasing your high and fueling his, but there was a sensuality to the circle of your hips. The sight of you making his cock massage your g-spot was one he wanted to be tattooed behind his eyelids.
“How you doing down there, sweetheart?” You smiled, alternating between bouncing and swivelling. He had to give him some form of reward, “please soak my face,” that was such a good line. Damn, he was good.
Eddie let out a shaky groan and stared at where his cock disappeared into your cunt. When you called him sweetheart, he didn’t know what to do with himself. The flush that covered his upper body was rosy and fiery. “Fabulous as always.” He chuckled and shot you a bright grin. “I really don’t tell you enough how much I love your pussy. And she loves me.” 
“You’re so weird,” You snorted, running your hands through the sparse hair on his chest. “She’s gonna care really good care you.”
Eddie started to wonder if god finally decided to smile down on him as you started to ride him properly. The wet squelch of fucking filled his ears alongside your beautiful laughs and moans. He could see the slick from your cunt on his throbbing cock as you moved. Watching you in your element, so happy, on top of him, was hypnotic. Eddie would never cease to be mesmerised by you and your body. He began to thrust his hips up to meet your carefully curated rhythm.
Your head fell back, and your jaw swung open when you met at the perfect angle, at the perfect time. “Oh. My god - yeah, yes, Ed-” you called out. You were so happy that both of your parents had taken night shifts.
Eddie’s thrust began more forceful, faster, as he moved to push his feet into your mattress for leverage. He was a sweaty, whining mess under you, but he was still going to try and do a little bit of the work. “Uh huh, use me. Fuck, fucking shit - cum on me again.” He was rambling like a horny maniac, smiling like one too. He was having the time of his life. A pretty lady who loved him and had cute stuffed animals was riding him until he wanted to scream. What more could a dude ask for?
“Don’t stop - don’t stop talking. Fuck.” Yeah, you were losing your mind. Sex with Eddie always came with a satisfaction guarantee, but it was his dirty mouth that sealed the deal for you most of the time. “Does my pussy feel good?”
The harsh slapping of his balls hitting your ass richoted off the walls. Eddie wasn’t going to be lasting much longer by any means. “So - so good. She’s leaking all over me, such a good girl.” 
Now he was just trying to be annoying. It was working very well.
“Am I a good girl too?” You groaned, lightly gripping Eddie’s jaw so he could look you in the eye. The pace of your fucking had reached its peak. How you were still speaking in sentences was a mystery. Eddie was hitting your g-spot at the best angle and slipping deeper inside you every time you slammed your hips down. 
“Yeah, f-fuck. But, you’re a woman too.” Eddie slurred, loving the feeling of you keeping his eyes fixed on you. His left hand moved between you to rub your swollen clit in fast circles. Again, sensuality is what really did it for him. He would call you a good girl until he was blue in the face. But it was the fact that you were a full woman that warmed his blood - and his heart. All soft body, whispy hair everywhere, and markings on your skin showing how you’d grown into the person he got to love. “Mine,” he whined the word like prayer.
“‘M your woman, huh?” This was going to be over soon, but you needed a few more words out of him. “Then you’re my man, all mine.” You leaned down to whisper straight into his ear, followed by a long lick up the column of his throat - tasting the salty sweat dripping off of him.
“Oh, oh god - yeah, ‘m yours, baby.” Eddie grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into a scolding kiss. All tongue and saliva, but neither of you cared. This is always how it went. Right when you were both on the precipice of orgasm, start making out furiously. His cock was pounding into you, trying to mould your puffy walls to the shape of him. Eddie could feel his heart hammering and his eyes rolling back - he was almost there and so were you.
“All. Yours.” Eddie punctuated each word with a hard, impossibly deep thrust. Then he was a goner. Shooting ropes of cum into the condom and moaned like a girl in the porn he watched sometimes. 
You could feel the pulsing heat of him in your stomach. His nimble fingers were still focused on your clit. He always knew how to make you melt. So, melt you did. The world exploded into white, and you screamed into Eddie’s neck as your orgasm shook your body. 
The aftershocks of bliss left you both shaky and panting like you had run a marathon. You had already collapsed on Eddie’s chest as he started rubbing your scalp with his calloused fingers - the added roughness provided a good scratch. Your heart was hammering like his, each keeping pace with the other in the afterglow of that near-religious experience. You snuggled into his touch and trailed your fingers down the bridge of his nose, feeling his beauty and memorising the dips and peaks of his face - for what may have been the hundredth time.
Eddie shifted to catch your wandering hand and covered it in small pecks up to your wrist. “So, you got any more members of the gang to introduce? I’d love an audience with a penguin if I’m being honest.”
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watchyourbuck · 4 months
Note
“Is this… turning you on?” if it sparks joy 👀👀👀 xx
Buck was a little shit.
He kept shoving the whole spoonful inside his mouth and licking it clean, swirling his tongue around it like nobody’s business.
Drops of ice cream were spilling over the corner of his mouth, and going down his chin, to which he simply made throaty little sounds to, before wiping them off with the back of his hand.
Yeah, Buck was a little shit because he knew exactly what he was doing.
From across the table, Eddie stared at him with god given patience, breathing heavily and following his every move.
He had made him promise him that he wouldn’t touch him. That he’d only watch.
Thing is, they weren’t alone.
Submerged in menial conversation, Bobby, Hen and Chimney filled the rest of the seats around them. They barked and laughed and told stupid little jokes Eddie couldn’t bring himself to laugh at.
Somehow, none of them had realized something was off — except for Buck, of course, who was on his second bowl of Ben & Jerry’s.
“That’s what I said to him– ‘do you even work here?’, and he started panicking!”
Out of context, Chim’s words made no sense, but even if Eddie was uh, focused on something else, he was well aware that they were all making fun of their new probie.
“We should cut him so slack,” said their Captain, fooling absolutely no one. “We don’t want the guy to hate us.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, his gaze flickering only for a second to where Bobby sat, clutching his belly in laughter. Ravi was probably terrified of them all by now.
With a mild clink, Buck attracted Eddie’s attention back to him. He had an eyebrow raised, and he was frozen in the middle of his performance, waiting for his man to concentrate.
Eddie’s ears turned red. He glanced at their friends before straightening up in his seat, trying his best to hide the hand he was using to adjust himself every couple of minutes.
“I’m pretty sure he thought I was a man,” said Hen, to which Chimney doubled over himself to in silent laughter. “He saw me from behind!”
“How- how did he- ? Oh my god,” cackled Bobby, barely getting through the sentence. A tear was forming on the corner of his eye.
They hadn’t laughed like this in a minute.
In hindsight, Eddie would have loved to be a part of the conversation but Buck wouldn’t let up.
The tip of his tongue was now expertly tracing the metal, and although his head was turned to the side, his eyes were still on Eddie.
Dear god. This man was a monster.
Eddie closed his own, exhaling carefully. Both his hands were on his knees, turning white from the grip he had on them. He couldn’t let his will be broken. Not like this, not so embarrassingly easily.
He looked up, only to find the spoon had been replaced by one of Buck’s fingers. His index.
Don’t think about it, don’t think about it- isn’t that the one he uses to open you up?
Jesus fucking Christ.
Buck smirked, withdrawing his finger from his mouth with a low pop, specifically made so only Eddie could hear. “Is this… turning you on?” he mouthed, the words trapped in the back of his throat.
Eddie wasn’t the best lip reader, but that he got. “You’re an animal,” he mouthed back, short of panting on the table.
Buck smiled, a little too brightly. He pushed the bowl away from him, earning himself the attention of their friends. “Okay, I think Eddie and I have uh-, a pending discussion. If you’ll excuse us.”
With that, he stood up. He must’ve known his words were as suggestive as they got, but he didn’t seem to care. He looked at Eddie and let out a small ‘c’mon’, before extending his hand to him.
Bracing himself, Eddie mimicked his moves, standing — bent forward, of course, as he didn’t want to poke anyone in the eye —, then grabbing his hand with more need than he wanted to admit.
Hen scrunched up her face. “Guys, c’mon,” she sighed, covering her face with her hands.
Like a child, Chimney made a disgusted noise before averting his eyes.
Buck chortled, leading Eddie around the table, and pushing him so he’d walk in front of him. He let go of his hand to put both of them on Eddie’s hips, prompting him to move.
“Buck, we talked about this!” Bobby yelled, his voice following them as they made their way down the stairs. “Don’t use the firetruck!”
Buck laughed, jumping the last step. He pulled Eddie into the locker room by the collar of his shirt, but not before shouting back. “Yes, Cap!”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
please take this as my Tease Tidbit Tuesday!
tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 @wikiangela @giddyupbuck @callmenewbie @lover-of-mine & @hippolotamus thank you all so much! I’ll get to each one of your works shortly💗
tagging in return @eddiebabygirldiaz @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @your-catfish-friend @mattsire @fionaswhvre @buckleyobsessed @disasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @smilingbuckley @housewifebuck @bucksbirthmark @firemedicdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @evanbegins @butraura @loserdiaz @jeeyuns & @eddie---diaz let me know if you wish to be removed!✨
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velvet-paradox · 11 months
Text
Intense
Fandom: Sleep Token (Band) Pairing: Vessel x Female reader x III Length: Long Summary: Your eepy roommates suggest they can help you out. Warnings: NSFW 18 + ONLY, LISTEN UP PUNK I know what I'm about ok and I shouldn't even have to to explain this but for ffs this is for funsies, fictional purposes only. I don't know these British men and I don't claim to! But am I having an absolute ball listening to them everyday day since I heard Dark Signs??? Absolutely. I have not and will not know peace on Earth ever again so with that being said... my lizard brain wants to shoot my shot and get sandwiched between Vessel and III (purely based off their on stage personas) and I'm pretty sure all us worshippers would enjoy kneeling and begging for forgiveness for all the eepy guys. DON'T LIE TO ME; I'll know. ;) One late night thot lead us down this path so here ya' go, we've got: strong language, explicit content, MFM relations, polyamorous activities, kissing, oral (m receiving), p in v, protected sex, unprotected sex (don't do it!), double vaginal, dirty talking, creampie III is a mess, Vessel is along for the ride and you're indulging in the spoils of detailed smut. Tagging: @synnersaint my ride or die
ENJOY!!!
You stare at the red numbers on the clock next to your bed. You blink.
Unfortunately unfazed by the hum-drum pace and the position you've found yourself in.
Ugh, how did this happen again?
The man on top of you, circling his hips against your own, balls deep in your cunt should be fun, exciting, a turn-on at least but you just laid there, once again, taking it but not getting anything out of it. You faked it the last three times just to get him to get off you, out of your apartment and out the door so you could finish yourself off with some post nut clarity. Which is what you should've done in the first place.
The first time you had sex with him, you chalked it up to nerves. It'd been a few months for him and a bit longer for you at this point. The second time you excused it as you did go out for drinks earlier in the night and the last one was just plain awful. No foreplay, bit your neck too hard and pretty much gave you a titty-twister which was not fun; at all.
But he's nice! And funny, easy to talk to you and here you are, making more excuses for a man who can't even get you off. This is just pathetic, girl.
You felt bad faking your enthusiasm but even as you moved in unison with him, hearing him huff and grate out oh my fucking god for the fifth time, he didn't even have a clue.
So you dialed it up, two more minutes had passed with him just thrusting inside you, he didn't even notice you weren't as wet as before. What a fucking disaster.
You sighed and made your O face, biting your lip and holding his waist, the slapping of skin sped up briefly before he pulled out with a groan of your name, panting as he jerked himself, tore off the condom and came on the inside of your thigh.
Fucking finally.
Your date was quick to get dressed, mentioning something about an early shift change. He gave you chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, cupping your face as an afterthought as you followed him out of your bedroom.
"I'll text you when I get home. I-- oh!"
You bounced against his back, stunned as to why he's just stopped like that when you peer around his frame. There on the couch in your living room sat your roommates.
"Oh my-- what are you guys doing home?" You asked, frantically looking between the two sober faces and their luggage by the front door. Well more like the painted chin of one and the eyes of the other. You were hyperaware of the drying cum on your leg and crossed your fingers and toes they didn't hear your activities or what remained to be seen.
"We live here, remember?" Vessel waved one of his hands, III nodding along.
"When you said you had roommates I just assumed they were other girls." Your bedfellow side talked to you as to not alert your boys.
"Is that a problem?" You asked.
"No I just uh," he looked at III when he stood, an attempt to intimidate. "It's fine um... I'll call you."
"Well that was rude," Vessel announced, joining his brother after he left. "Didn't even introduce himself."
"He won't be around for long. I wouldn't worry about it." You dryly chuckled before embracing both of them. Vessel cupped the back of your head, pressing his chin into your hair before letting III swoop you up in his gangly arms and gave you two solid spins. "Put me down! You reek."
"Ah, the mask has seen better days I'm afraid. Can't wait to get a hot shower and something in my belly. Road livin' ain't what its' cracked up to be, ya' know?" III admitted.
"Um, let me get changed and I'll make you guys some food," you jogged out of the living room, calling over your shoulder. "Lord knows what you boys eat on the road!" ....
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," You paused the movie and turned to face Vessel on the chaise lounge part of the couch, long limbs sprawled out, ankles crossed and rocking. "What's up?"
Vessel twisted his painted mouth before asking an out of pocket question. "Why do you torture yourself?"
Taken aback you wondered what he meant and crossed your legs. "What? What do you mean?"
"I think you know what I mean." When you showed your genuine confusion, he sat up. "Your little boy toy. Not that III and I have been cheeky little perverts and eavesdropping on your late night escapades but... we can't help but be concerned. Either you're a silent climaxer, some people are and that's totally fine and we're bold to assume or your partner isn't doing it right."
"Excuse me?"
"We've only been home a few weeks and we've heard him far more than we've heard you," Vessel explained, ignoring your anxious fidgeting and cuticle picking. "What we have heard though, is a lot of buzzing after your friend leaves."
Oh. My. God.
Your heart is hammering in your chest, desperate to get out of, out of your body and on the run. Blood pounds in your ears at the audacity of this whole conversation. Your roommates have heard you getting off, know you have toys, know your friends with benefits is lacking the benefits part and that you'd not been taken care of. You wished it was still cooler out and you could grab the usual throw off the back of the couch and hide away underneath.
"What are you guys talkin' about?" III popped in, holding a glass of chocolate milk, an absurdly long and coiled straw was hidden beneath his mask as he sucked dramatically.
Vessel smirked. "Oh just Y/N and how her new beau can't get her off."
"Oh finally! I've been dying for this conversation," III exclaimed and excited plopped down next to Vessel, scooching closer and leaning forward as he drank some more. "So what gives? Give us the goods."
"I don't... he knows what he's doing, it's just--"
"It's just he's bad at it." III giggled.
"I can get off, okay?"
"Yeah, we know that. Just not with him."
"I... fine. It might not even be him you know," you tried. "Maybe it's me. Maybe I can't get out fast enough."
Vessel quirked his mouth. "Get out of what exactly?"
"My own head. I think too much, you know that. I need to feel everything in order to shut my brain off and not worry about how many loads of laundry I need to do, when I need to switch out my sheets, did I pick up my towel in the bathroom? What should I have for lunch tomorrow."
The boys looked between themselves, shrugging and looking bewildered. "You... you think about all that stuff all while having sex?" III snorted and shook his head. "You're a madwoman, you know that?"
"I'm trying not to think of those things!"
"That's what I was afraid of," Vessel took III's now finished drink away from him and set it down. "If you want, we could help you out. Save you the trouble and the energy and uh, some battery power."
You chuckled. "You're joking. You two are gonna' help me out."
"Just say the word and we belong to you," Vessel crooned, licking his top lip. The pink of his tongue was such a juxtaposition to he obsidian black that covered his face, his arms and hands, his body. "This could be a one time deal, if it's not up to your standards, we don't have to mention it ever again or... it could be a three times a week sort of thing."
"Three times a week?!" You screeched.
"That's up to you."
....
"So uh have you guys like... done this before?" Your voice doesn't even sound like your own, shaky, breathy, uneven and higher pitched. You pointed between the duo and yourself. You hadn't but your incognito search history might say you've looked at it a few times.
They admitted their deep rooted feelings about you. Your stomach flipped for Vessel's breathy pet name of Duchess, your toes curled for III's Sweetness. 
With the way they looked at you, you couldn't even remember his name at this point.
Vessel shrugged. "Just with you."
"Just me?" You balked, you knew the guys were close, sometimes skin tight so to find out they'd not acted out was stunning and a major green light. "Oh um, I'm flattered. iI think."
"You should be. III isn't much of a talker, speaks his mind when need be."
"Unless its' dirty." III piped up with a shrug of his own, with the way his eyes wrinkled you could tell he was all smiles under that mask.
"A little tact there, brother!" Vessel scolded him, giving a backhand to his arm. "Don't scare her off."
"What? She should know. You should know. I am dripping with sin."
"III!"
"What? We're all adults here, right? An' we're talking about fucking each other so who cares?! And she might even like it. Do you like dirty talk, sweetness?" III asked with a tilt of his head.
"Uh I um... I. Well..."
"Do you," III stood and got closer, much closer, swaying his way to close the gap between you. He stood with his legs on the outside of your own. He tilted his head the opposite way and kept his eyes trained your face, the heat from the eye contact made you hot. His painted thumb touched your chin. "Like that?"
You'd never felt this kind of intimacy, this heightened level of attraction and arousal and it made you nervously laugh at the thought that it was radiating off your friends like a fucking forest fire.
You swallowed. "Yes."
"Aha! Knew it. Those pretty eyes and that fucking mouth are hiding plenty of secrets, yeah?" III pointed, that thumb of his traced along your jaw before pushing gently on the underside, making you look all the way up at him.
If they wanted to play, you thought, I guess... let's play.
"Maybe."
"Oh! Now we're getting somewhere," III chuckled and looked over at Vessel before touching your shoulder, moving the strap of your sleep shirt back and forth. His hands were hot, scorching your skin as he touched the light fabric. "Should I undress you or should you undress me? Or maybe Vessel wants to unwrap us both. What do you think?"
"I think--" your throat constricted before keeping his ardent eye contact. "I think I want to undress you first."
III liked that idea, he wiggled his shoulders and raised his arms. "I'm all yours, mama."
....
His hoodie is the first thing to go, floating down to the floor. A black compression shirt separates flesh and bone, it comes off easily over his head. He's only half painted there. You can see streaks of his skin, soft and smooth, hidden from view. His stomach tightens when you trail your hand down his chest, foreign to your hands.
"I think about you, ya' know? Not to be pervy or bold but... you are the prettiest thing we've ever seen."
His compliments make you warm, you clench around nothing.
He suddenly grabs your hand and moves it higher. "Feel that. You make my heart fuckin' pound like crazy. The first time I saw you in that green sundress, you know, the one with the little daises on it... fuck me," III admitted and dramatically bit his fist. "I've never been so hard in my life!"
You know the dress in question. It's hanging in the front of your closet. Guess it'll be making a debut and turn III on once again. 
"Oh yeah? Well maybe next time I wear it... I won't wear anything underneath."
III made the deepest of groans, moving your hand down his ribs while he undid his belt. "Fuckin' hell, don't tease me woman."
"You don't like that?"
"I like it too much! That's the problem."
His zipper was so fucking loud, it cut through the room like a hot knife. Smooth and seamless, even Vessel had to clear his throat. You looked over at him on the chaise, legs wide spread, lithe arms outstreatched over the back cushions. With three separate eye holes in his mask, it was hard to tell where he was looking but in this moment you felt them boring straight into your own.
"Keep going," he hummed and visibly bit his lip. " 'm enjoying the show."
With III was just in his boxers, it was your turn. Your disrobing would be a lot quicker as you were in a light pajama set and crew socks. You mmiiced III and raised your arms above your head, his nimble fingers danced over your sides, dragging the material up and over your head. He tossed to Vessel, who out of your peripheral, had inhaled your scent on it. He did the same with your shorts. The rush of cool fan air make your skin prickle, your clit throbbed when you fully noticed the outline of III's cock. Jesus. 
III got on his knees and lifted one your feet, gripping your ankle.
"No. Keep them on." Vessel spoke, pushing himself up off the couch and sauntered over to you, fully nude and on display. He embraced your face, pressing his forehead to yours before slinking behind III when he stood.
Vessel's painted arms looped around III's, locking them behind his back. III made a noise.
"Take him out," Vessel instructed with a low gasp. "Take him out and see what you do to him. Same as what you do to me. Hell, all of us, duchess."
ALL OF US?!
Before you got on your own knees, you touched III's hips, hooking your thumbs just beneath the fabric and dragged them down. His cock made the softest and prettiest thud against his lower belly. Your eyes bounced from their faces, down to his leaking cock and back again.
"He wasn't lying," Vessel chuckled, his chin now draped over III's shoulder. You met his eyes. "You make him rock fuckin' hard, love. Want her to take all o' that? Nah... you need her to take care of that, don't you?"
"Fuck yes." III whined. "Please."
"How are you gonna' help our good boy, love?"
III shook before your even touched him, you on your knees before him was enough to have him looking frantic. Completely at your and Vessel's mercy, you took him in your hand first, getting familiar with his length before dipping your head in worship, opening your mouth. You hesitated for the briefest of moments before angling him deeper and further into your mouth.
It was a good thing Vessel was holding him up because you felt and saw III's knees wobble once you got your stride, gliding your hands up and around his thighs, arching closer with your fingers reaching his ribcage. Your palms against his skin felt every twitch, every jolts, every fucking sigh. The noise that strangled out from his throat when you dragged your nails down his stomach had you clenching around absolutely nothing.
"That's it, you're doing such a good job, love bug. Atta' girl, get 'em off real good, yeah?"
"Yeah yeah, fuck yeah," III whined and bucked his hips, "Your mouth feels so fucking good. Suckin' me off real sweet, mama. Give it to me."
"She's good with that mouth, hmmm?"
"Oh fuck V...wait 'til she oh shit, right there-- wait 'til she's gaggin' on you. O-oh my God."
When III took the Lord's name in vain it sounded so sweet in comparison to your other lover. You could feel yourself getting wetter, more powerful than you ever had with him. You took their words of praise, locked them in a little safe in the back of your mind for safe keeping.
"You're lucky I don't shove your ass out of the way then." Vessel teased and III mewled with delight.
....
III made grabby hands at you, wiggling his fingers as he laid out on the chaise part of the couch. He wiggled, tapped and pointed towards his mouth too.
When you climbed on top of him, his arms engulfed you, bringing you chest to chest. You kissed his face over his mask, startled when he suddenly pulled the chin part of it up to his nose and kissed you for real. You whined and kissed him back harder and faster, tasting his mouth, licking inside of it. He smacked and grabbed your ass, groaning against your lips.
"You two are fuckin divine," Vessel breathed, shouldering off his robe finally, unzipping his own jeans. "Fuckin’ hell, what a sight."
You turned your head to his silky voice, watching him stroke himself.
You were in big fucking trouble.
III nipped your arm. "Want you. I want you so fucking badly. Think it'll fit? Think you can take it?"
You took a breath and held his cock, hot and ready against your pussy. Rocking against the crown, splitting your lips to ready you for him. You licked your lips and lowered down on it, your mouth instantly opening. "Fuck yes."
"Good God!" 
"Shit... a little more, love and you'll take him all the way in. That's it." Vessel cooed and pet your head, then your face. "Kiss him again."
With his heavy hand on your head you kissed III tongue first, the sounds of you two kissing had Vessel praising both of you, leaving him breathless.
III grabbed your hips, rolling and fucking up into you, breathing you in.
You and III stilled at the sudden dip of the couch.
Vessel's hand on your shoulder, his other ghosted and trailed over III's mask and vulnerable chin and mouth behind you. He lost it at that, whimpering against your cheek, a new flood of arousal coating your walls.
"Just relax pretty girl. We've got you, we got you."
"What are you--"
Vessel's thick fingers reached around your front, pressing and swirling down around your clit. "We're both gonna' fit. Just remember to breathe for us, ok?"
Holy shit. This was intense.
III's arm surged up and over your shoulder to touch Vessel, ghosting over his naked hip, gripping his bare skin.
"I've got you both. Trust me."
It was your idea to lift up, empty of III only to arch and take a deep push of Vessel. You frowned and touched III's face when Vessel pulled completely out. You both gasped when he spat. III squirmed and whined, the sudden intrusion of Vessel lining them both up against your hole, wedging their cocks inside you.
It didn't necessarily hurt, more pressure than anything and for fucks sake, you'd never felt so full in your life. 
"Fuck V! Give us a warning, holy fuck." III breathed when the frontman started to rock and move. After a few minutes of fucked out bliss, it seemed like Vessel was fucking III through your body.
He smeared his face along your spine, your shoulder, leaving wet open mouthed kisses along your neck and ear.
"Good fucking God duchess, you are absolutely soaked for us, aren't you? Can feel you really start to open up for us now, yeah? Fuck you're amazing. Isn't she?"
"Ye-yeah yeah. Positively sweet," III's eyes sparkled in an amorous way. You kissed him hard. "Can't wait to have a taste of you, sweetness."
The thought of him working his mouth on you made you keen and fuck down on them.
Limbs twisted and tangled, Vessel nipped a small, incredibly sensitive spot behind your ear before licking the shell of it. Humming and praising you with that gravely timber. He was touching you, holding onto one of your tits for stability and III did the same, using just the pad of his thumb to pebble your other nipple.
You would never recover, that much you were sure of. They were out for pain and pleasure.
On a particularly hard thrust from III your moan slipped into sex drunk chuckle. "I think she likes it."
"I'm in fuckin' heaven." You breathed, reaching back to touch Vessel's thigh, digging your nailbeds in deep.
"That's it, you fuckin' naughty thing." His hand left your breast and found a new home around your throat, turning your head to face him and receive a sloppy kiss. III moaned at that.
"You two are fuckin-- ah shit. I'm close, fuck. Give it, give it to me."
Vessel's laugh against your lips made your walls constrict.
"Just like that!" III practically yelled, digging his fingers into your thighs, alternating to your hips, changing the tortuous pace. "Fuck, 'm gonna' bust, sweetness. Fuckin' cum inside you all nice and deep. Make it stick."
"Fuck me." You hung your head and rode it out, nothing but pure pleasure and bliss was shared between the three of you. And it was worth it. "Oh you guys... aha! I'm gonna' cum."
You couldn't remember the last time you came that hard with a partner and never with two! They both rubbed their hands and mouths over your skin, groping over your sandwiched body. Vessel's chest stuck to your back like glue, III grabbed and pushed both of your breasts together as he came shortly after with a grunt of your name, stringing along a beautiful array of obscenities. 
"I've got you, I've got you both in my clutches now." Vessel's voice sounded like silk on glass next to your ear as he continued to thrust, spearing III's load all over your gummy walls. III reached out a lazy hand and Vessel took it, lacing their fingers together over your shoulder. 
Skin on skin on skin.
III leaned up for another smooch with you greedily enjoyed, smacking your spit and lips together until all you could feel and hear was Vessel shudder behind you.
....
Vessel couldn't stop smiling as you giggled, helped to your bedroom, wedged between them on your bed as they cleaned you up. You would certainly need to clean up that side of the couch later. III was careful of your more tender bits, being stretched out and filled, removing black grease paint of where they were.
He drummed his fingers over your arms when he was finished, molding his body to yours. His head against the side of your neck. III soon joined in the snuggle, jumping into bed and under the covers with you. He gave you another kiss before pulling his mask back down, and pet Vessel's head.
Your phone buzzed when your boys had fallen asleep, you had a feeling of who it might be and if this is how the future looked; there was no way you were gonna' give this up.
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itsjaywalkers · 3 months
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nothing happens
jegulus | M | 3 parts of ?
James and Regulus meet when they're kids, and it doesn't take them long to become friends. Best friends, even. And it's fine, because they're young, and love is easy and simple, and it can't be mistaken for anything else.
Then they grow. And their friendship turns into something else entirely. But it should still be fine if nothing changes, right?
If nothing happens.
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mochiwei · 1 year
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Amazing round of Gartic Phone Animated with @kyootiepies @yasmeensh & @/lemstarsprinkle!!
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gazspookiebear · 2 months
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Ghost x gn reader
Here, have some platonic fluff. I just had the worst milkshake and I can still taste it- to be fair, I was warned
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It all started with a craving. The desire, no, need for a milkshake was getting to you, but you didn't have any regular ice cream.
Ghost stood behind you in the kitchen as you checked the freezer, again.
"I wonder if a banana mint chocolate chip milkshake would be any good?" you wonder out loud.
"Sounds horrible. Wouldn't recommend it, love. I'll get some vanilla ice cream tomorrow and we can make a milkshake then," he says, leans against the counter.
You glare playfully at him in response, not willing to back down just yet. "C'mon, don't knock it 'till you try it! You're such a hater," you huff.
Too tired to argue, Ghost rolls his eyes at you. "Alright, you win. We'll make the bloody milkshake." He sighs in defeat.
Gleefully, you grab the pint of mint chocolate ice cream, milk, and bananas. In hindsight, it was a horrible combination.
With the monstrosity successfully created, you pour a glass for yourself. You glance at Ghost, who is giving you some serious side eye right now.
"Want some?" You offer.
"I'd rather not," he says bluntly. That doesn't stop him from grabbing a mug and pouring himself just a little bit of it.
He raises the bottom half of his mask to take a sip. He immediately regrets the decision, a small grimace flashing across his face.
You take a sip as well.
It's bad. Worse than you thought. It smells strange and tastes worse- not that you'd ever admit it to Ghost.
"It's not that bad." You sigh, glancing at Ghost's reaction. "Like I said, you're just a hater!"
He raises an eyebrow at you. "It's all yours, love. I'm not gonna fight you for it." He lifts his hands in mock surrender.
Later, you're both sitting on the couch. You convinced him to watch the barbie moving with you, not that he was particularly paying attention to it.
You sigh, and he looks over at you.
"Somethin' the matter?" He grunts.
"It's the fucking milkshake! I can still taste it! It was awful, why did you let me drink that?" you rant at him, feigning annoyance.
He crosses his arms at you and gives you an 'I told you so' look.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," he chuckles.
The next day, you're much happier after having a normal milkshake with vanilla ice cream.
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artbowls · 10 months
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Codywan Reverse Bang Team #15 Masterpost
Event by @codywanreversebang
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Thermodynamic Equilibrium - by @neostriatum
Rating - Teen
Orbital Decay - by @thejediandthemandalorian
Rating - Teen
Archive Warning - Graphic Depictions of Violence
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pixiepixells · 11 months
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POV: You are Spade.
I love the royalty au!! I can't wait to learn more about it! Au made by @neonross
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darkcreamz95 · 4 months
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First day of 2024 and I did a journal jam with some friends today, so here's me going all out for my first entry in my Hobonichi~
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I'm also trying to fill up my travel journal from the NL trip, so here are some pages from when I met Jan after the show in the Hague~
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ehlnofay · 7 months
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In most falmer communities, it's standard to have a minimum of three names, often more. This is due in part to the nature of falmer language, which varies drastically from dialect to dialect and often has elements of spoken, vocalised, and tactile sign language combined into a single tongue, and so necessitates different modes of reference in different form. A name spoken aloud is obviously different to one signed on someone's skin, for example. The names an individual is referred to by may change based on whether they are present or their relationship to the speaker; an individual might also take on different names as they take on different roles throughout their life. Some names have hierarchical connotations or mark some specific life event; some hives use "secret" names, either given to an individual at birth or chosen at some coming-of-age milestone, that act as the core of that person's whole identity and whose secrecy provides protection, either emotionally, spiritually or magically. Secret names are usually verbal and are generally only known by very few others, if at all, and telling one's secret name can be seen as either a mark of great trust or a severe taboo. When members of the hive die, they may be given new names to mark their loss or else be stripped of their names entirely so as not to risk the identities of the living that may bear the same or similar names mingling with the dead.
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heretyc · 5 months
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Horror [Trager, Eddie Gluskin, Val]
Horror: A collection of small fics, consisting of Outlast's most iconic antagonists [in my opinion].
The poll I started isn't over, but "canonically" is winning and I love it. Dark shit here we come lol. I will be writing for my beloved Terror-iffic Trio [aka my favourite antagonists from each game]. A party with these 3 would be lit.
Drabble ideas here.
Content Warnings: Uhhh...Outlast Antagonists lol. That is your warning.
Trager: Gore, awful jokes, his bare ass.
Eddie: Gore, murder, injury, mentions of his...lovely little display, sexual assault [minor, just a slight touch, no penetration]. [Please lord don't let him teach an art class.]
Val: Sexual assault [slight penetration w/ fingers], gore, murder, mud, Val's bare ass, mud breasts and mudgina.
I mean it, this is pretty heavy shit. It isn't too graphic, but if SA triggers you...either look away or read with caution. Trager's section is safe. Unless you're afraid of his ass...cause me too, man.
MINORS GTFO. Miners can stay as long as they're not minor miners.
Read with caution, I condone none of this. Fics underneath the cut.
You/MC take the place of the protagonist. So...you are Miles/Waylon/Blake. Yayyyyy....? Or nay? Depends on how you feel. MC is gender neutral, but is referred to with fem pronouns in Eddie's section for obvious reasons. You do not talk in Trager or Eddie's sections as Miles and Waylon were "mute". You speak in Val's section, though. You are described as having breasts in Val's section as both sexes/all genders have breasts. Tiddies for everybody!!
Enjoy.
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Drabble idea: "See, this place isn't haunted!"
Sometimes, a saving grace can be your one way ticket to hell. And this had been an excellent example of that. The angelic voice over the dumbwaiter was a dream come true; after running and hiding for so long, it was like you were granted a break.
Only for your face to fall as the scarred face of a man greeted you. The air around him reeked of danger.
This was not the haven you were lead to believe was waiting for you.
"You made the right choice here, buddy," he declared before punching you in the jaw, a pained yell leaving your throat, and he was quick to take advantage of your shocked state to haul you into a wheelchair.
He must have done this a dozen times, as he was quick to lock your wrists into the cuffs attached to the chair. They were tight, and he merely chuckled at seeing your attempts of getting out of them.
He looked fucked up.
He stood in front of you, hands behind his back, and his eyes were scanning you like a wolf scans its prey before it mauls it to bits, "You're not a variant...huh. Well, buddy...you can call me...Trager. Everyone else does, anyway."
As Trager made noises looking you up and down, you looked at his face. Coated by some half-assed attempt at a mask and some strange glasses upon his face, you come to the conclusion that he was some doctor here.
He clicks his tongue and smacks you on the back, "You've got a lot of things to learn here, buddy. I am honoured to be your teacher."
Teach you about what, exactly? You didn't want to know. But he started to push you forward, and you only questioned where your hell would be.
This place was already hell, but...at the hands of some crazed madman, it was different.
Trager hummed to himself, making jokes here and there, and he once grumbled when you didn't laugh at a stupid impression, before he finally made it to an elevator. It was...somewhat cleaner up here, for some reason.
However...
You could feel a breeze upon your skin, and upon hearing the howl of wind and torrential rain, you saw an exit. Pitch black and windy, yet so much more welcoming than in here. You questioned if there would be a tornado warning or something by how violent the wind seemed to be.
The rain out there was intense, torrential, heavy and oh so divine, and Trager only chuckled.
"You want to take a quick walk, bud?" He leaned down next to you, eyes looking into yours like he was an old friend, despite also looking feral. "Run free, like Forrest Gump? Unfortunately, we're running out of time." He clicked his tongue once more, pulling you into the elevator.
This was a cruel joke. Even the Elvis impression - awful impression, mind you - wasn't as bad as this.
Standing beside you, Trager pressed a simple button on the control pad before clasping his hands together behind his back. After a moment of movement, he looked back toward you, his voice a tone that suggested jest, "Did you know they call elevators a "shaft" in other places of the world?" He chuckled, shaking his head slightly.
Looking at him, you realized his skin looked...awful. Like he was a draugr from that video game you used to play.
His scalp was scarred, and after spending an hour in this place, you realize you're lucky your scalp was untouched.
Wires upon wires were wrapped along his arm, and upon closer inspection, you were horrified to notice that they weren't wires, they were tubes.
Of his own blood.
How did he not feel that?
A man like him probably enjoys that, to be honest.
His nails were quite long as well, albeit you couldn't blame him...hygiene in a place like this was laughable. He probably had to exert his inner wildcat to defend himself in this shit hole.
You nearly sobbed when the elevator came to its destination, and he took hold of the handles once more.
It smelled of death and lost hope up here.
Choruses of screams reached your ears and you flinched. He seemed to notice, as he violently shushed the poor bastards trying to break free of their confines, "Sh. Shshshsh...you weren't putting your tongue to good use anyway!"
Tongue...??
The man shrieking had a bloodied mouth, and he soon quieted after choking on, what you assume to be, his own blood. Trager only sighed, muttering to himself, "Really, I just needed something to lick my stamps."
This...was a cruel joke. Taking someone's tongue for stamps?? You were deep in thought, only for Trager to notice and grin evilly, "You should see what I do with the balls."
...Dear god.
"Yeah, this weird...cannibalistic guy downstairs begs for them...the guy knows what he wants, I gotta give him that. He reminds me of somebody...eh, buddy?"
He poked you in the shoulder as he pushed, and it appears he was referring to you.
"I saw your camcorder. You're some sort of journalist, here to...what, expose one of the biggest experiments in history?" He laughed at the notion, shaking his head. "I admire the bravery, really. Braving through disturbed masses...I have to admit, I'm impressed."
You only gulped.
"People love to say this place is...haunted." Trager noted, pushing you into a bathroom of some sort. Bloodied, smelled of decay and looked like a paradise for bugs and bacteria.
What had scared you the most was the array of torture devices he had laid out on a tray. This man was deranged, one way or another.
He continued his one-sided conversation, focusing on the aforementioned tray as he walked over to it, "I mean, who wouldn't? People love to paint asylums as haunted. They hear a ghastly noise or a terrified scream and immediately tell the papers that a house of human suffering is haunted."
Trager's hand hovered over each instrument of torture, trying to pick which one, but he hadn't stopped talking.
"And I am more than sure that's your entire...reason for coming here. Trying to prove it was haunted. But guess what, buddy?"
He finally picked up a blade, long and serrated, and he pressed it against a finger of yours, the edges sharp against your thin flesh. He leaned in close, his dry lips forming into a smile, "This place isn't haunted."
He moved away, the blade removed from your finger, and you breathed a sigh of relief as he placed it back down onto the tray.
"No, no. It's worse."
He finally picks up a gigantic pair of scissors, much like something you'd see picking away at a shrub, and he was more than eager to shut them and open them, metallic hisses invading your senses, much like the feeling of doom.
You will die here.
"This place is an example of human cruelty, my friend," he announced, voice loud and cheerful as if he wasn't about to maim you, and he placed the blades around some of your fingers. He cared not for your horrified shrieks and begs, he only leaned in once more and whispered,
"And you will be nothing but an example of what happened here."
Slice.
...
"Oh, come on, buddy...it's not like you needed your middle finger anyway. Now open up...I have some stamps to lick."
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Drabble idea: "Oh my god, are you okay?!"
"Darling, please! You act as if I've done something rancid! What have I done to you to make you so afraid of me?!"
The bloodied behemoth on your tail was quick and hurried as he chased after you, his feet slamming against the rotting floorboards. You almost couldn't hear the music that played alongside the horrific display he handmade. The smell was awful, but the sight of it was enough to make you vomit.
You would not be the victim to the Groom. Not now. Not ever.
You would not have your pelvis slit, or your chest stuffed like you were a sex doll [ironically, that's all you would be to him], and you would not let him confess his undying love for you. It was fake and corrupt like this entire asylum.
Despite the smell of mildew and death, adrenaline filled your blood and you could tolerate the disgusting scents as you breathed in, your legs not yet faltering.
You've heard what he's done. The man who so giddily chased you rambled about it as you snuck around, and you were not pleased.
This was the only way out. Sometimes you have to take risks...right?
This wasn't worth it, though.
And sometimes, luck runs out. Like right now, as you are stuck in a dead end.
There was only an elevator. And it was not on your current floor.
Shit.
You could jump and risk a broken leg...or...
The emergency ladder. Broken and rusted, but it's tetanus over death.
You could explain all of this to the news with lockjaw.
"Wait, what are you doing?! Don't, don't-!"
You had leaped, gripping onto the ladder as your bottom half slammed against it. With a hiss you tried to pull yourself up, only for the ladder to break underneath you.
The top had snapped, and you tried to grab onto what remained on the wall, only to fall, your heart stopping.
Of all things to die from, it was a rusted ladder.
Oh well.
As your body slammed onto the top of the elevator, a sharp pang began to blossom from your ankle, and you look to see shards of glass sticking out of your flesh. Now coated in blood, you cried out and ripped the shards out, piece by piece. Blood pooled around your foot as you cradled it.
"Oh my god, are you okay?!"
The behemoth above looked down at you with a horrified expression, his hands out and wanting to hold you.
"I hate to see you suffering without me! Why would you do something like that to yourself?!"
His voice was full of panic and concern, and for a moment it seemed wholesome, until the panicked silence became one of anger. There was...tension.
"You would...rather die...than be with me...?"
His tone had shifted so quickly. He was unpredictable, and that's what had made him so...scary. In general, he had looked like he crawled from a 1940s horror series. Sweeney Todd had come to mind, actually...
"You're just another whore, aren't you?" He growled out, only to sigh, like this was a normal occurrence. "It's quite alright, darling. A good man can turn a whore into a house wife...and I have faith in us. Let me just..."
The elevator roared to life, and you panicked even more, now. Your poor heart would likely kill you before he had the chance to. But as you rose, he merely hummed to himself, waiting for the elevator to rise to his floor.
You had no chance at moving or escaping, as when you reached the proper floor, he was quick to grab you before you became sandwiched between the top of the elevator and the ceiling.
He dwarfed you. Instantly. He carried you bridal style, an eerie smile on his face, "Come, now. I must make sure you look perfect for our wedding."
You had no chance, now.
He clicked his tongue, footsteps hard against the rotting boards, and his voice was quieter as he spoke, "And I need to wrap up your foot...you are a silly one, darling."
It didn't feel silly. It felt like your ankle and foot were on fire, stinging like mad.
You had accepted your death already, but if there was also one thing you could accept, it's that he wasn't actually half bad.
Minus the...anger fits and the "whore" bit, he would have been wonderful. Looking up at him, you see a man soiled by corruption.
His eyes would have been a beautiful, shiny blue if not for the pools of hemorrhage. They had looked...empty. Dead. But whenever he looked at you, they shone like his soul had been revived.
Is this what he had wanted? Love?
Everyone in this hell hole had been deprived of it.
It was sad. Really fucking sad.
But you had read about what Eddie had done, and seen it too. And he was past the point of no return. He had done too much to be redeemed.
Dread made itself a home in your stomach as you were laid upon something cold and wet, and you were strapped in. Arms and legs spread, and your clothes were ripped off.
You were now nude, and being touched by the Groom himself.
His hands were gentle as he caressed a calf, "You have such soft skin...you will look absolutely beautiful," he cooed, hand gliding itself upwards toward your knee, then your thigh, and then...
You only flinched when you felt his hand begin to caress your genitals, as gentle as could be, as if he wasn't violating you. T'was the touch of a lover.
But he was no lover, no.
His fingertips merely grazed along your private flesh, rubbing it as if he had wanted to stimulate you, and you wanted to scream.
Eddie sighed dreamily, like he was a married man and his life would be filled with nothing but happiness, and he, luckily, let his hand glide up to your navel. "You look divine already, but when I'm finished with you? Oh, darling..."
He removed his hand, thankfully, but he was quick to turn on the saw, and all you could feel was cold air from its rapid movements and doom.
He gripped the sides of the table you were on, and he was smiling like this wasn't totally fucked up, "I know this will be hard..."
You felt the table move, slowly but surely, and you began to wriggle, but he continued, "You will have to deal with this...and then the conception, which I promise, will be wonderful," he winked as the saw came closer, "Then the pregnancy...and oh, I can just imagine the birthing. You will look so beautiful, darling...like a goddess. Mothers are goddesses in their own right."
And all you could feel was the sting of the saw, and your soul fading from your body.
...
"You're just like the rest. Filthy whore."
You're lucky you weren't alive to see your mangled body, tossed with the rest.
Ready to rot.
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Drabble idea: "I want to go home..."
Val, in a sense, had been an angel to you.
They did not have a halo, made of purity and gold, or have pristine, white wings to wrap you and hold you close, no. They did not bear robes of white or play a golden harp or sing a divine chorus.
But they had wanted you all to themselves. And they would not let Knoth's guard dog, or his sickly bastards he called "friends", ruin you before they had a chance to.
Because unlike Knoth, or Marta, or Laird or Nick or whoever the fuck, Val would put you back together.
They are a loving mother, dedicated to spreading love.
It had been painted in blood on your way to the mines, 'LOVE SET US FREE'. Bottles encasing candles, bodies strewn up like Christmas decorations...
What were they trying to do, exactly? Make their cause look homey? Elegant? Acceptable?
You had felt oddly welcomed. Every single enemy in your way was slain, journals and notes left in your path to urge you to come to them.
"Come to me," the red ink beckoned you on the dirtied paper, "and I will show you my love."
They had been so kind as to leave batteries and bandages. Before you had taken the small, makeshift raft, a final note had been placed in one of the small shacks, the bed made and smelling of firewood,
"I am waiting for you."
You did not want this. But you needed to find a way out.
The mines were not welcoming. You were not alone. And you had been chased into the underground, where you are now; held down by Heretics as they muttered, "mother, burn..."
Like the fallen angel ready to relieve the sinners of their pain, their martyrdom, Val had approached, coated in mud and looking like the demon of the mountains.
In their hand was a torch, raging with fire, and it made their white eyes so much more intense.
They had hummed eagerly, the hum evolving into a laugh as the torch was placed down and the Heretics were shooed away. You were too afraid to move or notice their cold, dirtied hands leaving your flesh.
Their eyes were wide, pupils tiny, and they smiled as they strutted to you, "We are creatures of appetite..."
They moaned, feeling up their body and their fake breasts, like they were a porn star and giving you a show.
"I want to feel your hunger," their voice became quiet, something only you could hear, and they leaned close, your eyes staring frantically into theirs, searching for any fragment of humanity.
There was none. And you felt saddened, knowing that the Val in those journals was not this Val.
This was something different.
"I want to know your desires...and show you what true pleasure feels like," they rasped, pushing you down and straddling your hips, grinding against your clothed stomach. Your fear had aroused them.
"I want to go home..." you whispered, tears rushing from your eyes, and they only laughed, leaning close to your face and whispering, "This is your home, my love," a muddy hand came up to caress your cheek and wipe the tears away, "and I...will be doting."
You had no chance to respond or even acknowledge the powder blown into your senses, or the tongue forcing your mouth open, and immediately, they sought dominance over your own muscle, wrestling with it. It had ventured to each nook and cranny of your mouth, like they wanted to taste everything about you, and they eventually pulled away with a moan, saliva connecting you two.
They licked their lips, humming in delight as their hands rushed to push up your shirt and reveal your chest. "Your body...is delightful," they breathed out, squeezing your breasts and rubbing your nipples with precision.
That powder did something to you. You had hated the feeling of their hands, but now you were overheating; desperate and quiet moans leaving your throat and making the cultist above you grin.
"I don't..." You couldn't even finish your sentence, as they pinched a nipple and made you shriek. It made them chuckle, and their hands moved south, ripping your zipper and breaking it. They got off for a second to completely rip your pants and undergarments off, and their naked thighs wrapped around your bare hips.
"Did you enjoy my gifts?" They questioned, hands now massaging your thighs, "You needed those batteries so badly...to document the lies of Sullivan, didn't you?" They purred, their hands tight and knowing just where to touch to get you to cry out in pleasure.
"That's why you came here. Fell from the sky, wrapped in flame..." they bit their lip, feeling aroused at the notion, "To record his bullshit."
You had even forgot about your camera, and you questioned where it was, until Val snorted, "It's gone, my love," their hands moved upwards to your genitals, "taken away...by my children. You won't need it anymore."
There was no pain when you felt their finger enter you. It was more pleasurable than anything you had ever felt, and it made you moan the loudest, and Val had revelled in this.
With precision their fingers located your pleasure spot, and sped up.
Your pleasure was their pleasure.
"God doesn't love you...not like I do."
And in time...you would know it to be true.
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