#(heavy panting... and breathing....) its done... its finally done. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

endofthelinegang · 6 days ago

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sleepy

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ this is literally just how i believe introducing how someone thinks and interpts a character should be done. so i don't send someone into shock when i write for these characters.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ robert "bob" reynolds x fem! reader, james "bucky" barnes x fem! reader, john "stfu" walker x fem!reader, ava starr x fem! reader, yelena belova x fem! reader.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ how the thunderbolts act when they are sleepy.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ i never know what to do put here, i guess curse words?

yelena belova does not believe that she is ever tired. black under the eyes, yawning does not qualify at all. but all of that being said this is exactly what happens:

"I am not tired." Both of you sat on the couch. With a smile, you nodded your head and rolled your eyes, taking off the blue hoodie that had been helping keep you warm all evening. The inside was so fluffy that when you put it in the dryer, pieces would float around onto the other laundry for days. It was perfect bait.

"What are you doing?" Yelena was squinting but not daring to move her head down and forward off the back of the couch to face you as it would most certainly make her dizzy and that would make her yawn even more.

"I'm just a little warm." With a small smile, you place the hoodie on your lap and just let it sit as the TV played some reality tv that the two of you had been spending the late evening judging after dinner.

You closed your eyes and pressed your head back to mimic what she was doing. The moment she could sense you not staring at her, she moved and yawned as silently as she possibly could before taking her boots off with her feet. They thudded to the ground as she slowly dragged the clothing you had taken off closer to her until it was no longer sitting on you at all. Rubbing her eyes with all of her makeup still on she wiped her hands off on her pants before adjusting the hoodie to go over her head and onto her body.

"Fine, we can crash on the couch." Secretly, you did not hate crashing on the couch, but letting her believe that and watching her get all excited was just too cute to pass up.

With some quiet humming, you sat forward while she pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and onto the two of you as you stayed sitting up she pulled the hoodie over her head and got ready to lay down.

"Wait. You are not sleeping?" She side eyed you as she held part of the blanket covering her in her hands running her fingers over the plush material.

"No I am, just like this." You propped your feet up on the coffee table and kicked the blanket to cover your socked feet. Putting your head back in place with a nod.

"What? No, that is not comfortable at all." Before she could continue her rant, you lurched in her direction and pulled her down onto your lap, her head resting on your thigh and the length of the couch now hers.

"Goodnight star starfish." You mumbled eyes closed still feeling her tug and pull at your arm and the blanket to get in the optimal sleeping position.

"Starfish?" For a moment, she smiled and thought what a cute nickname, then it hit her, "I DO NOT SLEEP LIKE A STARFISH!"

A moment of silence followed. she had placed your arm so that your hand was touching the opposite side of her jaw. In order to keep this from becoming an entire discussion, you pet her face gently like one would to a baby who was fighting sleep.

"If a starfish loses all its arms, is it just a really confused circle until it grows them back?” Yelena mumbled under her breath as her head finally became heavy against you, and her breathing slowed and deepened. As follows, a leg came off the couch, as did an arm. A starfish.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

bucky barnes will straight up be passing out doing something, he is like all of a sudden on the floor dead asleep, which is great to try and time:

"What? What are you doing?" Slipping the knife from his hand you sat it down on your bedside table with a small clang.

"You're falling asleep with a knife in your hand, or you were anyway." You watched as he sat with his mouth slightly opened looking at you with a deep offense.

"I was not. I was working on something." He tries to reach over you but you put a very gentle hand on his chest.

"Where's the cloth?" You watch as Bucky mumbles and opens his hand to show you nothing. To which he starts fluffing the comforter, hoping that it would float up and he could say he just dropped it. The smell of his cologne wafted in the air, unlike what he was looking for. You laughed at him as he incredibly slowly turned his head to reface you.

"Witch." He glared at you without even having to look, you pulled the cloth from the side of your bed. It dangled in between your fingers as his eyes flickered between you and the damn barely dirty treacherous object.

"Wanna tell me what we were just talking about?" Matching his glare he took in a deep breath that turned into a yawn he tried to hold inside of his mouth.

"It's only nine o'clock." He rubbed his flesh hand over his eyes as he looked over at his old-fashioned alarm clock that you insisted he keep because it was so useful and reliable. Not wanting to possibly be wrong about what was said earlier or what had actually happened.

"So late already, man, I thought it was seven!" You began quickly turning off your lamp and climbing over top of him to turn his off.

"You think I get sleepy at seven?" Bucky's head thudded against his soft pillow as you manhandled him to get him to fully lie down.

"What were we doing at seven?" You placed both hands down on his chest now looking at him as he batted his eyes slowly not even trying to think about what you had just said to him.

"Oh, cmon, I don't need to be tucked in, I'm a grown man." He groaned as you rolled off of him and began bringing the blanket on top of him up to his shoulders.

Bucky let out a puff of air as you trapped him with your body and blankets, basically giving him a go-to-sleep treatment. Truth be told, the second he was warm, he totally passed out flat on his back exactly the way you placed him.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

john walker did not believe in naps or bedtime, let alone possibly resting anywhere that was nice in soft, but even the best need to rest:

"WHAT THE FUCK JOHN!" You jumped back and screamed with your hand clutching at your chest, now looking down at the floor. It was literally four o'clock in the morning, and you had just gotten up to get a damn ice pack for the migraine you had all evening thanks to a storm. But what you had came across was John sitting on a bar stool drinking a cup of coffee in silence.

"What the fuck you." He gestured in your direction, not taking his eyes off of the coffee cup sitting in his hand.

"What are you doing up?" With a roll of your eyes, you walked over to the freezer and slid the door open to grab an ice pack from the deep freeze where you kept the ones you used.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He scoffed and sipped some more. He had to have been sitting there for quite some time. You noticed the coffee pot was freezing cold, and he was in training clothes. He had been wearing earlier.

"Yes, John, that is typically why someone asks what someone is doing." You wrapped the ice pack in a dish towel before pressing it to your temple and leaning forward on the bar.

"You wouldn't understand." He finally looked up at you, not with his whole head, but just his eyes moved. Circles were incredibly dark, and you knew right then he had not yet even tried to sleep.

"Why did we give you a bedroom if you just weren't planning on ever sleeping?" You joked shaking your head the littlest bit you could manage.

"Hilarious." He picked up the cup with the shakiest hand you've ever seen on someone under ninety. The veins in his hands popped out, and his knuckles were white as he brought the cup up to his mouth.

Fuck me I am going to be nice to Walker

"Hey, can I ask a favor since you're up?" You knew he was going to give you shit and bitch and make jokes about it regardless.

"What do you want?" He was now fully looking at you and you took in a deep breath and puffed it back out through your nose.

"My head is killing me, like seriously killing me, and I would really love to get some sleep. I can't hold this ice pack and sleep at the same time because if I lay it on my pillow, even with it wrapped, it will eventually leak and get my pillow all wet." You tried your best to come up with something stupid that made enough sense for him to fall for.

"You want me to sit and watch you sleep while I hold ice on your head?" He summarized what you had just given him before rolling his eyes and getting up off his stool, "You coming?"

"Tell a girl, Walker, tell a girl." You mumbled as you walked to catch up with him as he made his way towards your bedroom.

He opened the door and let you walk through it before closing it behind himself. You handed him the ice pack and jumped in bed, getting all comfortable and curled up before he took off his shoes and got in bed, sitting on top of the bed.

"You can get under the blanket." Waving a corner of the blanket at him he took it roughly and covered himself up to his torso. Holding the ice pack on your head you switched your lamp off and dozed off. Needless to say Walker followed soon after and the ice pack ended up across your face and onto the floor.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

ava starr is happy to get some rest when she can, in fact finding her asleep is not uncommon when there are days she feels she can just be at peace:

You find her in the hallway, slumped against the wall just outside the room you're sharing.

Not ghosted. Not flickering. Not phasing in and out like she does when she's upset or startled or fighting the hum in her chest.

Just still.

Her legs are pulled up like she sat down with the intent to rest for a second and then forgot how to move again. Her head tips to the side when she notices you, a small, exhausted blink like she’s dragging herself back into her body.

“Ava?”

She doesn’t say anything at first.

Then: “Sorry. I meant to come to bed. I just... stopped.”

You crouch beside her, gentle. “Rough day?”

She huffs out a breath—not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh. “Rough year. Rough life.”

You don’t push. You just sit, shoulder against the wall, close enough that she can lean in if she wants. You wait.

After a moment, she does. Slowly, her head tilts, coming to rest against your shoulder. She exhales, and it sounds like something deeper than air. Like permission. Like surrender.

“I’m so tired,” she murmurs.

There’s no dramatics in her voice. Just simple truth. She says it like it’s a fact: the sky is blue, water is wet, and I am so tired I could disappear.

You reach over and gently thread your fingers through hers. “Then come to bed.”

“I don’t want to move.” Her voice is smaller now. Not scared, just fragile. “I just want to be... still. For a little while.”

You nod. “Okay. Then we’ll be still.”

So you sit there together, on the floor, in the quiet. Her head against your shoulder. Her hand in yours. The baseboards are cold and the hallway light is too dim, but none of it matters because she’s here and breathing softer now. Less like she’s holding her breath. More like she’s starting to believe she doesn’t have to.

“Do you think it’s stupid,” she whispers, “that I want someone to tell me I can rest?”

You shake your head. “No. I think it’s human.”

She’s quiet again. Then: “Will you say it?”

You squeeze her hand. Thumb brushing her knuckles. The kind of touch you know she can actually feel.

“You’re allowed to rest, Ava.” You feel her lean into you a little more.

Something in her unclenches.

You help her up, slow and easy, no rush. She doesn’t protest when you guide her to bed. She collapses into the mattress like she’s been underwater for years. You settle in beside her. She doesn’t usually like to be held when she’s vulnerable—but tonight, she turns toward you. Finds the crook of your arm. Tucks herself in there like she belongs.

“You’ll stay?” she asks quietly.

“Always.”

She falls asleep with your shirt clutched in one hand and your other arm draped over her back, her breathing finally even. No flickers. No phasing.

Just Ava. Resting.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

bob reynolds was so happy to have a peaceful, safe place to rest that he was happy to use it:

You were fucking exhausted, there was simply no other way to put it. It was a cold and cloudy day that had dragged on; every single hour felt like seven. You had just spent fifteen minutes looking for Robbie when it finally made sense. He’s already in bed, waiting for you, knowing you've had a long day. When you open the door, you see him stretched diagonally across the mattress like he’s trying to occupy every possible dimension of comfort.

One leg hanging off the side. One arm flung dramatically over your pillow. Half the blanket was tangled around his waist, the other half already on the floor. He blinks up at you when you open the door, slow and heavy-lidded like a cat in a sunbeam. His hair is sticking up in five different directions, and there’s a content, sleepy smile tugging at his mouth.

“You look cozy,” you say, amused. Dropping your shoes you had carried in, not wanting to dirty up the floor he had cleaned earlier.

“I am cozy,” he mumbles. “But I’d be cozier if you were here.”

You laugh and climb into bed beside him. He is so warm that you can feel the energy before you even get to touch him. The smell of a slightly salty vanilla was woven into your bed sheets from him lying there. The second you settle under the blanket, Bob instinctively shifts, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, slinging a long arm over your waist like it’s second nature. Which, at this point, it kind of is. His fingers tap at you gently, feeling you breathe.

“Mm. Yep. There it is,” he sighs, already sounding drowsier. “Perfect.”

You run your fingers gently through his soft hair. “Rough day?”

“Not even,” he says. ��Just… long. Have you ever gotten that kind of tired where your bones feel floaty?”

You smile. “Only when you talk like that.” His voice sounded deeper and softer than usual like how a cat has a deeper purr when ready for a nap.

“Poetic,” he insists, eyes closed now, voice muffled against your shoulder. “I’m floaty-tired. Just need to melt.”

“You’re halfway there.”

You feel him grin. His hand finds yours under the blankets and laces your fingers together, thumb stroking lazily across your knuckles.

Everything about him in this moment is soft. His body, warm and loose against yours. His breathing slowed to match yours. The weight of his arm, the scratch of his stubble, the little hum he makes when you kiss the top of his head.

“This is my favorite,” he murmurs. “This part. Just you. Just now.”

You press your lips to his hair again. “Mine too.”

And for a few minutes, neither of you says anything.

You just exist there—tangled limbs, warm skin, the quiet comfort of being with someone who doesn’t need anything from you but to be near. Bob’s breath deepens. His grip on your hand loosens just a bit. You think he’s fallen asleep, but then—

“I hope you know I love you,” he whispers, voice thick with sleep.

Your chest tightens, but in the best possible way.

“I know,” you whisper back. “And I love you too.”

And this time, when he melts into sleep, it’s with a smile on his face and your heartbeat under his ear.

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sunflowerwinds · 4 months ago

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sugar, sugar | v.a

summary: vi has crept up into your mind and is keeping put so to try to relieve some of that bubbling crush energy, you bake her some protein muffins. after delivering them to her, she invites you to isha’s birthday party. meeting her entire family is nerve wracking but you’re welcome with open arms.

pairing: fem!reader x vi arcane

contains: modern!au, kick-boxer!vi, reader is an actual sweetheart, MY family (vander, isha, ekko, jinx, & sevika mentions), fluff and flirty tension, kind of slowburn but not really.

word count: 5.5K

a/n: what do y’all think of my new pfp?😝 i’m so glad everyone has enjoyed that first part of this little series. the overwhelming amount of support has touched my heart, i’m so sorry this took two weeks to come out i will try and be faster with the next part <3 & would 3 parts be too short? lmk in the replies!

— TWO

Making protein muffins was harder than you thought.

You had tried out multiple recipes with different flavors within the span of two days and it was driving your grandmother and your sister up the wall. Her kitchen now smelled like a mixture of all the different scents that were giving her a headache.

They were either dry, not enough flavor, too dense, not fluffy, too strong, etc. The list went on. But finally, on the third day of anxiously cooking, you perfected a beautiful and delicious batch of pumpkin muffins with a few blots of chocolate chips.

Ever since you found out that Vi worked at a kickboxing studio, it sparked an idea in your brain. You could bake some protein muffins to give her. Worried she wouldn’t like them, you double checked with her. You open your text thread with Vi, grinning at the last message she had sent you of the actual address of the studio so that you wouldn’t get lost.

Anxiously tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you stare at the sign above the studio with hesitation. You had done yourself up a bit; just a tad. Okay, a little more than a tad.

This was Vi’s first time seeing you outside of work and you wanted to make a better impression than messily tossed up hair and bundled up layered outfits. You sported a mini black skirt with a pair of opaque tights with an over the shoulder cherry red sweater, your hair left in its natural state. You stare at the black marker writing of Vi’s name on the box in the passenger's seat of your car.

Would she think you were trying too hard?

No, no, no overthinking, you scold yourself. You tug down your sun visor on your driver’s side to double check your makeup before grabbing your purse and the box of muffins for Vi. You open your driver's side to step out onto the gravel parking lot, sucking in a deep breath to calm your nerves as you tug on the cold handle to the door of the studio.

The moment you stepped into the dim lit area, you spotted Vi almost immediately. A black compression athletic tank hugged her upper body, showing off her muscular upper body. Her bandaged hands were landing blows to a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. The sound of her soft grunts and the clinking of the chain holding it up the heavy vinyl bag echoed within the space.

You stand at the edge of the large mat covering the area, unknowingly frozen in place at the sight of Vi’s veins popping out of her biceps with each punch she was throwing. You snap out of it when you realize how long you might’ve been standing there for, clearing your throat and shaking your head at how embarrassing that was.

“Vi, hi!” You wave from across the rubber gym tiles at her panting figure, a bright smile on your face.

Vi lowers her balled up wrapped fists that had been previously punching the bag to wave back at you, a smile creeping onto her lips at the sight of you holding the little tray of homemade treats. You looked like a doll out of place in this sweat-ridden studio in your adorably cozy outfit.

Vi made her way over to where you stood at the edge of the mat, eyes panning up and down as subtly as possible. Seeing her outfit up close caused a heat to tickle the tips of your ears. You swore you could see her abs through the material.

“Hey, cupcake. Those for me?”

“Yep! Thought I’d drop them off before I… head out.” You cleared your throat, nervously smiling at her as you fiddled with the cardboard of the box you had bought for this.

Vi grabs a small towel from a foldable chair where parents would sit through classes to wipe over the back of her sweat-ridden neck. She was so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. You couldn’t tell if you were staring at her as obviously as you thought. Worried you were going to seem like an absolute creep, your eyes blink as they focus on her face.

“Yeah? You have plans today?” Vi hangs the towel around her neck, crossing her arms over her chest.

The movement caused your eyes to flicker down to the protruding muscle. You were sure this time you were staring as her dark tattoos were glistening underneath the thin layer of moisture from her workout. God, you could hear your grandma now teasing you for getting distracted by muscles of all things.

“I mean I’m just going to the grocery store. Need a few more things for Isha’s cake.” You nod to confirm, flickering your eyes back up to hers.

They were somehow even more captivating than her biceps. Her lips twitch into a small grin, nodding slowly.

“The people at the store are very lucky.”

You couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto your lips.

“Shut up,” you look around at the equipment and trophies around the room to try and hide the heat that was undoubtedly forming on your cheeks. “Were you just working out here? Or did you have a class?”

“Yeah, I had a class earlier but it was for mostly 6 to 8 year olds so they didn’t beat me up too bad this time,” Vi jokes as she reminds you of her injuries from the last time you saw her.

You chuckle as you can only imagine seeing Vi with a whole group of children, gently encouraging them to take hits at her. Oh, your heart skipped at the thought.

“Yeah, I mean you look good now.” You blurt out without thinking.

Taking way too long to realize what had stumbled out of your mouth, Vi’s brows raise at your words as the faintest of smirks forms on her lips.

“Yeah?”

Your eyes flicker up to hers, self-consciousness washing over you once that realization sets in. Your mouth opens as you grip the box as some sort of comfort to ease the humiliation creeping up your neck.

“Not that you don’t look good all the time because you–you do! I mean, I don’t see you everyday but I’m sure you do,” you try and recover, voice becoming softer as you trail off.

Vi unfolded her arms from her chest to reach forward to rest them on your shoulders, faintly chuckling at your panic. “Cupcake, relax. I knew what you meant.”

You suck in a deep breath at her touch but you mask it as attempting to calm down from your frantic words.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll just leave these with you now,” you pat the top of the box, looking into her eyes. “I’ll see you soon so you can pick up the cake at the shop?”

Vi nodded in agreement with the set plan, taking the box of muffins from your hands. You nearly frown at the loss of touch that was somehow burning onto your skin even though you were wearing a thicker sweater.

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon but,” she clears her throat, moving the box to rest on one of her forearms as she brushes her front pieces of hair to the side. “Did you want to come to Isha’s birthday party?”

“Seriously?” Your smile widens.

Vi nods, eyes crinkling a bit from her smile matching your own.

“Are you sure?” You question, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. “It won’t be awkward not being family or anything?”

“No, I mean. It’s a small party but I think you’d have fun,” Vi shrugs her shoulders, suddenly becoming more sheepish. “Isha wants you there. Couldn’t stop talking about the nice bakery lady.”

“Just Isha?” You tilt your head, hopeful that she would give you the answer that you craved.

Vi taps on the box with a small smile. “I want you there, too.”

Oh, your gram would be jumping with glee seeing this interaction. Your face ignites a flame at her honesty, nodding with a beaming smile.

“I’ll be there. I’ll just bring the cake then.” You nod, pushing back flyways from your hair.

“Okay, good. I’ll text you the address, cupcake.”

You nod for what felt like the millionth time at the pink haired girl, taking a step back to try to force yourself to leave her warm presence.

“Okay and if you like those, uh, muffins, let me know if you want any other protein snacks. I like a good baking challenge.” You motion to the muffins.

Please say yes, you internally begged.

“I will. Though, I doubt I won’t like them if you’re the one baking them,” Vi assures your frantic mind.

You grin at her awkwardly, not knowing how to take these little flirty gestures she would throw at you. At least, you thought they were supposed to be flirty.

“Okay, okay,” you wave your hands, chuckling sheepishly to yourself as you realize you’ve probably overstayed your welcome. “I’ll leave you to… your boxing stuff.”

Vi chuckles at your wording, pointing to the clear door.

“Have fun shopping. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you, Vi.”

You felt like throwing up from your nerves.

You had texted Vi later that day after dropping off the muffins what you should wear so that you wouldn’t be either too overdressed or underdressed. It was a child's birthday party, for God’s sake but you still didn’t want to be too out of place especially around her family.

from vi ♥︎ | Do you have any options?

to vi ♥︎ | kind of? i have ideas of what i could wear but i’m stuck :/

from vi ♥︎ | Let me see and I’ll tell you what looks best!

You nearly dropped your phone on your face at the message. Standing up from your bed, you scurried to your closet to pick out two options as you didn’t want to bombard her with photos of yourself. You quickly change in your planned outfits minus the shoes, sending both of them to her. You were panting from how you switched from one to the next.

from vi ♥︎ | Fuck, you look good in both

from vi ♥︎ | I was expecting this to be an easier decision but you really just look good in either.

to vi ♥︎ | violet :(

Could she tell how flustered you were from behind the screen?

from vi ♥︎| I’m serious

from vi ♥︎ | But if you want me to choose, I’ll say the first one!

to vi ♥︎ | thank youuu! i was stressed about that lol

from vi ♥︎ | You’re going to be fine. I promise :)

to vi ♥︎ | really?

from vi ♥︎ | Yes. You’re the lady bringing the cake. No one can hate the lady bringing the cake, duh.

to vi ♥︎ | yeah, yeah, okay. i’ll relax now.

Now you were standing at the front door of the small suburban home in that very outfit that Vi had chosen; a white tee with an espresso brown cardigan over it and a pair of your favorite baggy dark wash jeans. Your hair was half-up, half-down and your cleanest pair of Docs. You rang the doorbell just a few seconds ago, patiently waiting for someone to answer the door.

If you held your breath, you could hear muffled footsteps approaching the wooden door. The sound of the locks unlatching signals you to straighten your back, preparing yourself for whoever was going to answer the door. The hinges creak as it swings open to reveal Vi, sporting a welcoming smile.

Similar to you, she was wearing a brown cut off sleeve top, a white tank top underneath the open torso portion and a pair of black jeans. You try not to read into the matching colors too much.

“Hi! I was so scared I got the wrong house,” you chuckle as you stare into her eyes.

“Nope, you got it. Everyone is in the back. Come on,” Vi reaches for your hand, tugging you through the small house halls.

You nearly drop the cake as you urge her to slow down, releasing soft chuckles at her eagerness. You glance around at the cozy walls of the home, catching a few glances at a few family photos hanging and set up on shelfs. You made a mental note to try and sneak inside to get a closer look at those.

You step through a white chipping back door, Vi guiding you to the birthday party set-up for the precious child. Green streamers hung on the wooden fence to appear as vines as a photo op and a foldable table that was filled with wrapped and bagged presents with Isha’s name in balloons with a few animal print ones surrounding the inflatable letters as music played from a speaker. It wasn’t the coldest day as it was nearing the end of November but there was a slight breeze and the sun was shining beautifully to really wrap up the sight of this unknown family.

You hold up the cake underneath the white box, subconsciously gripping onto Vi’s hand due to the anxiety swimming through your veins.

“Come on. I want you to meet everyone,” Vi insists, a charming smile on her face as she walks up to a group of people that were sitting at a round table that had a jungle leaf tablecloth over it.

The whole table had cups of drinks in front of them, talking amongst each other with animated features.

“Hey guys,” Vi speaks up, her hand still holding yours gently.

A chorus of greetings overwhelms you in a good way as she goes around the table to name them off one by one.

“Okay, this is Jinx, my other sister,” she points to a pale skinned girl with two electric blue hip length braids, a few strands coming from the front to frame her face.

The girl smiles at you with kindness, eyes widening as she seems to realize who you are.

“You’re the bakery girl? That donut was delicious. I have full trust that the cake will be amazing,” Jinx nodded with a wink, leaning into the darker skinned boy next to her.

“That’s Ekko,” Vi chuckles as she points at white haired boy.

“Hi. Nice to meet you,” he grins at you, nodding his head at you to show his acknowledgement of you.

“Hi!” You reciprocate the gesture, looking at the more broad woman on the other side of him.

“And Sevika. Don’t let that mean face scare you. Just wait until Isha comes down from the bouncy house.” Vi gave your hand a squeeze, a teasing grin on her face.

Sevika huffs at the pink haired girl's words but manages to press a semi-warm smile on her face in your direction. You nod with a more timid ‘hi’ leaving your lips. You didn’t want to say it out loud but she scared you a bit.

Okay, she scared you a lot.

“I think my dad’s inside but I’ll go let Isha know you’re here. Be right back.” Vi, after what felt like ages, released your hand to walk over to the bouncy house that was filled with a few more kids around Isha’s age.

The second her warm palm left your own, a wave of alarm washed over your features now being left alone with people that were closest to her. You turn to the group with the calmest expression you could muster to attempt to hide how nerve-wracking this was for you.

“You can relax, you know,” Jinx was the first to speak, tilting her head at your tense figure. “Here. I can take the cake. I’ll put it in the fridge.”

She stood up, reaching her pale hands out to you to take the cardboard box from you. You thank her quietly as you allow her to relieve you of that worry, leaving you alone with Ekko and Sevika.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be awkward,” you shake your head, taking the seat opposite to Sevika to leave Jinx’s spot still open.

“Vi told us how nervous you were so we were kind of expecting it,” Ekko admits which makes you wince a bit. “But, hey, we could do some ice breakers? Tell us something that’ll ease the tension.”

You nod at Ekko’s offer, pondering for a moment as you pick out a random fact from the depths of your brain’s memory log.

“Oh, I went to the hospital when I was 7 because I swallowed my Polly Pocket’s purse because my grandma said I had ‘wanted to know what it tasted like’.” You offer, glancing between the two strangers in front of you.

Sevika raised one of her palms to cover her mouth like she was trying to hide her amusement from your sentence. Ekko’s eyes widened as he snorted back a laugh, causing you to proudly smile at yourself on succeeding on breaking the ice just a bit.

“Jinx nearly burned my hair off when we were kids. She was obsessed with making homemade bombs,” Ekko shared with you, pointing to a mark in his eyebrows. “I still can’t grow hair in this spot on my eyebrow because of it.”

“I got this scar from her kicking me in the face when she wouldn’t go to the dentist when she was 9,” Sevika pointed at her half an inch scar on her top lip with a shake of her head.

“Okay so what I’m hearing is to stay clear of Jinx,” you joke.

This seemed to ease the tension between you and the two completely, them nodding to confirm. Slowly but surely, everyone started sharing stories of their childhood as did you. You learned alot about Vi and her little family through these two, feeling more connected to them already. As you shared what your jobs were like, you feel a smaller frame tackle you from the side. You look down to see a head of wild bronze waves cling onto your arm.

It was undoubtedly Isha. Vi stood behind her with a sweet smile, folding her arms over her chest before she pats Ekko on the back as she sits herself down on the other side of you. You send her a quick glance, her brows raising as if to check up on you and you nod to assure her.

“Hey birthday girl,” you look down at her, golden eyes staring into yours.

She makes a delighted sound, snuggling more into you. You rub a hand over her back for a moment before raising your hands to sign that she looked cute, motioning to her adorable birthday sash and bunny ears over her black and white striped tee.

Signing right back to you with an elated smile, she says; ‘you look beautiful.’

Your heart tightens at her kind words, signing a ‘thank you’ before tugging her into a gentle embrace. Her back was a bit damp from what you assume is the sweat from jumping around in the bouncy castle.

“She’s excited for her cake,” Vi hums as she stares down at her sister with a teasing grin.

Isha nods enthusiastically at her words to confirm said excitement, looking over to Ekko and Sevika and signing something that you didn’t pick up due to her turning away from you. They both nod, eyes following over to Vi’s figure next to you with raised brows. You turn to look at Vi in confusion at the silent communication but choose to mind your own business as Vi’s cheeks seem to match her hair now. You didn’t want to embarrass her further.

“Alright, who’s hungry? The pizza’s here!” A deep English accent comes from behind the group, a burly yet kind looking man comes from the back door which you came from carrying five pizza boxes.

Jinx trails behind him with two bags of ice stacked on her own arms.

“You hungry, cupcake?” Vi places a hand on your shoulder, jerking her head over to the man.

You suck in a deep breath at her words, feeling Isha’s fingers wrap around your own that were resting in your lap. You were unbelievably hungry but knowing that this was going to be your first impression of Vi's father made your stomach churn, attempting to suppress your hunger.

But you push through.

“Yeah, I could eat,” you nod to confirm, turning your head to the side to give her a composed smile.

Sevika and Ekko followed you and Vi’s lead as you both stood up from your seats again to walk across the slightly overgrown grass, nearly tripping as a few more children passed by your hips and legs to run towards the table full of cardboard boxes of pizza.

“Hey, hey, slow down. One at a time,” the man told the group of kids, pointing at them to grab the disposable plates.

“Dad,” Vi called, taking your right hand once again while Isha still clung to your other.

“And who is this, Violet?” He questions his daughter as he places a slice on a child's plate in the line they formed.

“Hi!” You speak up before Vi could as you introduce yourself.

The man nods at your introduction, a friendly smile on his face as he plates another child’s plate. His eyes flicker to his eldest daughter with a raise of his brows before focusing his attention on you.

“Vander. Vi’s told me alot about you,” he states as he points to the pink haired girl standing next to you. “You’re the sweet lady who made Isha’s birthday cake. Got to say, I saw it in the fridge and it’s absolutely perfect. Thank you for doing that for her.”

You felt overwhelmed by the compliments from the man, strangely having the urge to hug him but only tighten your grip on Vi and Isha’s hands.

“Oh, it really was so much fun to make too. I don’t get a lot of cake orders so I was excited to test myself, I guess,” you assure the man of your adoration with the job.

“You work up an appetite baking? We’ve got some fine cuisine here,” his voice was playful as he motions to the greasy boxes.

You nod to confirm which resulted in a strong Dad-like laugh to leave Vanders’ throat before he raised a hand to clap on your shoulder, tugging you towards the boxes now that all of the children had gotten their own pizza slices. You release the two sister’s hands before looking up at the man.

The entirety of the birthday party quickly became a party game frenzy after everyone hounded down their greasy food. There was cup stacking; Vi won that one, pin the tail on the donkey; Isha won that, limbo; you almost broke your back trying to do that, etc. You saw a more eccentric and playful side of Vi, cursing her for being such a bright person around her family.

It made her all the more attractive.

When you ended up being her partner for the wheelbarrow race, you felt like a freak for those good few seconds where you were holding her legs up by her ankles so she could use her hands to ‘run’ across the grass. You kept your eyes straight forward for as long as possible.

They lingered a bit downward because why the hell did her ass look good in black jeans? You nearly won but Isha and one of their little cousins who had come to the party won that round due to you being… well, distracted for a moment. She stuck the middle finger up and stuck her tongue out at Vi quickly before Vander could see, causing you and Vi to gasp before she celebrated with her cousin again with a cheeky grin.

Your real enemy ended up being the three legged race. You and Vi’s hips were touching, arms interlocked as a bandana was being tied around your thighs to keep you from separating. You suck in a deep breath as Sevika tightens the fabric, patting the area to tell you two it was good.

“Good luck,” Sevika tells the two of you, standing back up to move on to Ekko and Jinx who were next in the lineup.

Vi grins at the elder, looking over at you as she brushes her hair out of face.

“Who do you think is going to win, huh?”

“I know you want me to say us but I have high hopes for Ekko and Jinx. She’s very scrappy,” you admit with a soft laugh, your hand twiddling with a loose fabric on your cardigan.

Vi nods slowly in agreement at your words.

“And Ekko?” She hums.

“He matches that,” you lean in closer before pulling back as the wind blows your hair a bit.

This Vi chuckles at, not denying that accusation. Vander moves to the front very end of the fence of the backyard, cupping his large hands around his mouth to shout the countdown.

“On your marks,” he yells, “get set.”

He pauses dramatically before raising his left hand upwards to mimic a flag and slam it back down before yelling out: “Go!”

You and Vi immediately start to move yourselves forward, Jinx whining that you two were cheating already. Vi’s hard bicep tug into your own as she tried to keep you two from tripping.

Isha and one of her cousins were catching up to you quickly, their little legs beating you. Some force was on your side that day as you had stepped forward with your free leg and rolled your ankle a bit on what felt like a toy.

It happened too fast for you to comprehend but you fell to the ground. You turned to your back side without thinking and nearly twisted your ankle doing so.

Vi’s hand attempts to grab your forearm but in doing so, falls over with you. Her body covers your own, her weight laying on top of your own. You groan at the impact hitting your stomach and chest, looking down at your legs to see that the fabric of the bandana had ripped which was what caused Vi’s body to be on you and not next. Her body shifts to lift her upper body up to relieve that ache in your chest.

Vi lifts her head to stare down at you with a concerned expression, hands on either side of your head.

“Shit, are you okay?”

You tilt your head down to how Vi’s hips were pressed into yours and look back up to stare into her twisted expression.

“Yeah, I’m… good,” you lied through your teeth as the back of your head was now throbbing.

Vi’s eyes were searching your own for any sort of discomfort. Your chests were centimeters apart as you breathed heavily to try and catch your breath, eyes boring into one another's. Suddenly, your head and backache were forgotten about. You swore for just a moment Vi’s eyes flickered down to your lips before pushing up off of you, grunting as she stood to her feet.

She brushed off her jeans before leaning forward to wrap her hand around your forearm to help you up and off the grass. You allow her to tug you upwards to your feet, avoiding her glaze like the plague.

“Ekko and Jinx take the cake!” You hear Vander start to clap, wincing out loud. “You two alright? Kind of got caught up in the competition for a moment there.”

“Fine, Dad,” Vi replies as she watches you brush off your own legs, sucking in a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“A little headache but I’ll survive, Vi.” You shake your head, brushing your hair out of your face with a lighthearted chuckle.

You two sadly couldn’t speak for longer as Vander announced it was time for cake. Vi’s hand lingered on your arm as she ushered the two of you to the set-up, watching as Jinx carefully came out with the lit birthday cake. Your eyes round with admiration at Isha scrambling to sit still in her chair as her big golden eyes widen as everyone starts to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her.

Watching the scene unfold sent a bittersweet sense of comfort, remembering how you were once that small with a family like this. You hoped Isha could have this forever, security and love wrapped into one. If a tear left your eye, you’d disguise it as it being from the impact just a few moments ago.

The party died down slowly as adults and other family members came to pick up the other children that were at the function, getting pieces of the cake shoved into their palms that Vi had been praising since she took her first bite. Feeling like you had overstayed your welcome as the family was now gathered in the kitchen area to clean up, you quietly tell Vi that you should probably head home.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll walk you out,” Vi holds her finger up to Jinx, Ekko, Sevika, and Vander who were in the middle of a conversation.

“Aw, what? You have to go home already?” Jinx furrows her brows, huffing out a breath. “I didn’t even get to embarrass Vi in front of you yet.”

You chuckle at her words while Vi grumbles a sound of annoyance at her sister.

“I’m sure you’ll do it soon enough. And yeah, I got baking duties to tend to.”

“Well, I hope we get to see you more often and not just so you can bring us cake,” Jinx stepped forward to give you a quick hug.

You pat her back with a new sense of welcoming into Vi’s family, nodding in agreement with that statement. You say goodbye to everyone, making sure to sign Isha one more ‘Happy Birthday’ to which she signs back what you think is ‘Bye, pretty cake lady.’

As you walk down the halls to the front door, Vi questions: “What are you baking next?”

Catching you off guard, you ponder for a moment.

“Well, I’ve been dying to make some cinnamon rolls but kneading the dough can be tiring.” You huff as you watch Vi open the door for you, allowing you to step onto the gray concrete walkway that leads to the driveway. “Why?”

“Just… wondering.”

Then an idea sparks in your head as you lean against your car, turning to face Vi with a hesitant smile.

“Did you want to come over to mine to help me bake them?” You offer quickly before you could fumble and retract the statement.

Vi’s dark brows raise into her hairline at your invitation.

“You just want me to knead the dough, don’t you?” She teases.

You blow out a breath of air as you shrug your shoulders as if it wasn’t the first thing you thought of. “I mean, if you really want to. I wouldn’t mind it.”

Vi purses her lips as she nods, trying to repress her beaming smile. “Yes, I do want to.”

A sense of accomplishment washes over you at how you successfully made it through today without having any major screw-ups.

“I really had a good time today. I forgot how much fun birthday parties can be,” you grin sheepishly as you stand by your car, the sunset lighting up the side of your face beautifully.

Vi’s smile only grew at how stunning you looked.

“I told you that you would. You should come over more,” Vi shrugged her shoulders, tilting her head at you.

You hum with a playful smile as you bump your shoulder with hers. “So I can get multiple concussions? I don’t think so.”

“Well, I can promise I can try to prevent as many of those as possible.”

You chuckle out an ‘okay’ at her words, fiddling with your cardigan sleeve. There was a beat of silence between the two of you, the soft breeze sending shivers down your spine. Your bad habit of admiring her silently; nearly creepily hit you when you made eye contact with her, her brows raising at you challengingly.

“Right, yeah, so I’ll let you know when I have everything to make the cinnamon rolls,” you stated as your hand hovered your driver's side door handle, snapping out of your temporary trance.

Vi’s arms folded over the front of her chest, scuffing her shoes on the concrete of their driveway as she rocked her on her heels.

You find her eyes once again, taking in a confidence wielding breath as taking a step forward to wrap your arms around her neck. Vi was taken aback for half a second, breath hitching before she let her arms drop from their spot to hold you up your torso with one arm as the other raised to cradle the back of your head with her hand. You bury your head into her neck to cling onto the warmth for as long as you could.

“Thank you again for coming, cupcake. I’ll see you soon, alright?” Vi says gently into your temple, sliding her hand off of your head.

“Yeah,” you suck in a deep breath, “I’ll see you.”

Achingly doing so, you detach yourself from her embrace to finally get into your car. Vi stood in the driveway as you reversed and drive off, waving at you until you were down the road.

previous part -> next part

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eph3merall · 6 months ago

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dealer!chris n innocent!bff!reader who eventually have sex ...

☆ . . . chris is so so sweet <3 gently coaxes you into believing that it's okay. that it wont ruin your guys' friendship at all, even though he knows once he hits he'll want to come right back. he'll be damned if he lets his best friend go fuck some other guy.

☆ . . . chris ends up taking your virginity when hes high. you were slightly tipsy from a few drinks, crawling all over his lap and giggling like some puppy. he couldn't exactly help the hard-on he got, y'know? hes a man. you couldnt blame him.

☆ . . . the two of you were just talking, truthfully. after chris had finally managed to get you to loosen up a little you were so smiley and squirmy, accidentally rubbing against his cock without even realizing. tipsy giggles left your lips every second he said something, his mind feeling all fuzzy and not quite there.

☆ . . . the topic of sex came up. chris isnt sure how, or why. "you've never been fucked?" "no..? s'that a problem?." "no, no.. jus', you're missin' out." chris is chuckling and staring at you like he wants to devour you, and you completely miss it. "m'parents always told me to wait until marriage" and he nearly starts cooing at you with how adorable you sound, tugging you closer as his hands cup your cheeks.

☆ . . . fast forward and he's lazily grinding up against you with his hands planted firmly on your hips to help you roll them against his clothed dick. "ohh, i know.. feels good? huh?" the prettiest little whines are sounding from your lips that have been bitten raw, eyes glancing down to where you repeatedly hump against your best friend. "chris..." his name sounds so good in that whiny tone, said in a low mewl as you grasp at his shoulders.

☆ . . . you dont know fully why you feel like this, all hot and eager for chris to continue helping you rut against him. then again, it isn't all sunshines and rainbows for him either. chris is fighting back the urge to bust in his pants, holding you close and letting your body move slowly on its own.

☆ . . . soon enough, he's breathing heavy as his cock strains against his jeans. staring at your nervous face as you tug your panties down and he has to stop himself from grabbing you and sitting you down on his dick until his tip hits your cervix. he knows it'll hurt. and chris just happens to be so kind to his best friend, he's letting you sit down in his lap with both of your legs thrown across his.

☆ . . . your head leans back, his chin resting on top of your head as he sinks his middle finger into your cunt. "fuck, oh.. look at you. s'cute, baby" "chris.." you just sound so pathetic to him, as he hushed you gently. his other hand is wrapped around your stomach, holding you close and keeping your thrashing to a minimum.

☆ . . . your gasp turns into a moan when chris eases another finger in, the squelching sound of your own cunt echoing in your ears—making heat spread up your neck to your face. it just feels so... weird. your hips twitched gently and yoh didn't miss the chuckle that sounded from your best friends mouth, his free hand sliding up gently to squeeze at your tits.

☆ . . . when you start shifting around more and your hand grabs at chris' wrist to try and slow the sensations down, he knows you're close. a soft hush comes from him as he continues with his ministrations, ignoring the way you whine and cry about how you feel weird. "jus' let it happen. s'not a bad thing, baby.. c'mon, cum for me. theere you go" the wave of pleasure that washes over you is almost heavenly, your body tensing then going slack a few seconds after, lips parted in heavy gasps of air.

☆ . . . you think you would be done honestly, until chris is tapping the side of your hip with two of his fingers. "up, c'mon. gotta help me now" and when you shakily lift yourself up from his lap, you hear the sound of a belt buckle and fabric being slid off skin. chris' hands are looping around your stomach gently to pull you back—ordering you gently to close your eyes. "trust me, i got you. you trust me, right?"

☆ . . . of course you trust chris.. which is why your eyes fall shut—letting the brunette pull you back and sink you down slowly onto his dick. except your eyes fly open the second his tip is nudging into your entrance, a shaky gasp falling from you as your hands grip at his wrists. "chris.. that—that hurts, y'know." except he ignores you, clicking his tongue in his mouth and slowly sinking you down further. maybe he should've stretched you out a little more, but god, he was so hard to the point it hurt.

☆ . . . once chris is fully sheathed inside you, he lets you adjust for as long as you need. he knows he's big, and he knows you've never had sex. you were gulping in big gasps of air like you were dying, even though it was fine... chris' hands rub comfortingly up and down your sides, rolling his eyes at how dramatic you were. "s'kay kid.. stop doin' that," "no, i feel full..."

☆ . . . when chris was finally able to move without you throwing a fit over how much it hurt or something, he's thrusting up gently and cursing under his breath. you've turned around just so you could hide your head in his shoulder if needed, and you do—burying your head into the crook of his neck and letting his hair tickle your skin.

☆ . . . chris isn't sure how long it's been but when you squeeze around him he knows you're cumming without you having to say it, and he almost busts his own load right then and there. biting down on his lower lip, he urges you off him when he's sure your orgasm had washed over you—shoving your shoulders down to get you on your knees between his legs.

☆ . . . chris knows you aren't on birth control or anything, so he opts for a quick lesson teaching you how to bob your head up and down his length until he cums over your pretty lil' face. surprisingly, for someone who's never sucked dick before, you were damn good at it. fitting whatever you could in your mouth and then wrapping your hands around whatever else was left, just like chris had told you.

☆ . . . he isn't the best at aftercare. you guys took a shower and he seemed so awkward, because normally the girl he just banged would be out the door in a few minutes. but you're his best friend, so he just pats the bed and you two watch a movie or something. cuddling always felt too intimate for him, never been one to initiate it or entertain it.

☆ . . . you don't complain much. sure, it would've been nice. well, it would've been really nice, but you were a little too scared to ask chris to hold you like you guys were dating. were you two dating now? probably not. you've never really seen chris with the same girl for more than three days straight, and he's told you a bunch how he hates labels. huh. so why is that pit of longing still stuck in your chest?

—

ur girl wrote this with a vicious nosebleed. i lowk need to write for matt more so some stuff for him is comin soon hopefully !!! after i finish all the reqs i got tho

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx

©eph3merall 2024

#ᶻz eph3merall #ೀ dealer!chris #ೀ innocent!bff!reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo drabble #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #the sturniolos #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo smut

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tbgblr2 · 1 month ago

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Home Videos

As its mothers day in the UK, I couldn't let the day go without a story of someone becoming a mother. So here's one I saved up from a while ago from a roleplay I did with @allkindsofpreg. Hope you enjoy it.

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Some people would call it… unconventional, but it’s just the way we are. My phone is streaming birth videos to the tv, one after another. You give a little grunt. I look over and you give me a weary smile. We started our video marathon four hours ago after the third hour of contractions, both of us confident that this was the real deal. We had watched countless babies being born and right at this moment you were sitting on a towel, your trousers and underwear discarded, your fingers rubbing tight little circles on your clit as we watched the mother pull her legs back. You pull your top up and expose your belly, the fabric scrunching up under your breasts. I lean over and wrap my arm over your shoulder, my other hand reaching down to follow the route of your fingers. Your head lolls back as you sigh, the contraction finally passing.

“They make it look so quick,” you grumble, leaning heavily against the headboard as another head crowns and pops free on the tv.

I chuckle and move my hand to cup your firm stomach. “Movie magic, love,” I assure you. “We can edit ours to look that way too if you want.” The idea of going back later and rewatching the birth of our child together sends a shiver of excitement through us both. “Could maybe speed things up though.” My hand moves up to brush your nipple and you arch into my touch.

With some assistance, you get your legs folded underneath your ass and get to your knees. I follow. Your belly presses into mine and you loop your arms around my neck. Our lips find each other and my other hand reaches between your legs, the long, lazy strokes causing you to pant and moan along with the woman on the screen.

You don’t pull away as your core begins to tighten, just move to rest your head on my shoulder. Your hips sway in time with my movements until you're practically riding my fingers. I can feel when you stiffen, and gently nudge you back into rhythm. “Keep it loose. Just relax and let the baby move down on its own.”

“So heavy,” you mumble against my skin, and my grip moves to lift your belly. The relief is instant, gravity no longer pulling constantly at the small of your back, and you pull tighter against me. “Thank you.” you hum in acknowledgement, but it’s soon drowned out by your string of curses as the contraction crests.

“Fuck, shit, ow, ow ow ow.” You sink lower and lean forward, hips widening and belly lowering to rest on the bed. From here it’s easy to see how much I'm enjoying this, and you almost laugh when my hard cock twitches in response to your panted breaths.

“Done?” I ask, eyes questioning as you straighten up with a smile.

“It’s only just beginning my love.” A particularly wild scream draws our attention back to the playlist and your hand instinctively searches your own opening as the woman struggles against a massive bulge. “Check me,” you plead, desperate for some sense of fullness as you wait to be where she is. My palm cups your pussy, and all you want to do in that moment is fill it with the head of our child.

I move to get behind you, as you shuffle your elbows forward and hitch up your ass to give me better access. “I’d better remember this position for next time, seems like a perfect height for my hips…”

You turn your head, blowing out a breath in turn as you grunt “don’t think about next time… right now I’m thinking this time”

“I know baby you’re doing really well” I say automatically in response, all the while my fingers were cupping your opening. You grunt an acknowledgement and prompt me with “you were checking” as I giggle “yes dear!”

You suck in your breath as you feel my fingers slip in and probe deeper, feeling around. “You’re… you’re doing very well baby.” My obvious skirting around the number and tone has you picking up on it. “How much?” You gasp, puffing out the breath you were holding.

I try and sound cheerful “you’re at 6, almost there” I say. We both know you were at 5cm 2 hours ago and hadn’t really progressed.

You grunted a ‘damn’ as you elbow walked back and with my help got you back upright.

I glanced over to the four cameras we had placed over the room to record things, all were still blinking their lights showing they were still recording.

“Do you need to do anything with those?” You ask, pushing your top back above your bump and rubbing circles against the skin.

“No, not yet, they can do 6 hours each on the cards. If needs be and we get to 5 hours I’ll make sure I swap them over before anything spicy happens”

We started recording when we set the movie marathon away 3 hours ago.

“So speaking of spicy” you say coyly… “it sounds like we need to get things moving.”

I smile and run my hands down the length of your thighs. “You just want me for my sperm,” I tease. We’d read that it could help soften the cervix, and you’re desperate for anything that might speed things up.

“Mm,” You hum unapologetically and crane your neck back to look at me. “Kind of how I got into this mess in the first place, yeah?”

I lean forward and capture your lips in a kiss, then gently lower you down so you’re lying down on the bed facing away from me. Grabbing a bunch of pillows to nest and wedge around your awkward aching body, we manage to get your belly supported and knee propped forward and up enough to give me adequate access from behind. I wrap my body around yours, kissing down your neck and shoulder as my hand caresses down your curves, inching lower and lower until it finds your clit. I start torturously slow, effectively distracting you through several more contractions.

“I’m close,” You warn, and I nip playfully at your skin to keep you from tumbling over the edge just yet even as my fingers move rougher, faster. You whine in protest when I stop, but the stimulation quickly reappears at your opening. I drag my stiff cock up and down between your folds and you're already so wet it doesn’t take much before I’m prodding, pushing, thrusting.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you moan as I bury myself deep inside you. Your ability to move is limited, so you’re at my mercy as I slide in and out, in and out, adjusting the angle slightly each time until I find the one that makes you gasp and shiver and beg, “Please. Please.”

“Please what?”

You can only whimper as your own fingers find your clit. Another contraction is building and you know I can feel it too as I struggle to hold back from release as your internal muscles clench and spasm around me. My pace quickens and my arm wraps around your belly, giving me a bit of leverage to hit just a little bit deeper and sending us both over the edge.

The pleasurable muscular contractions from the orgasm mingle with the painful ones from labour, heightening both sensations and causing you to cry out. You intertwine your fingers with the ones I have moulded to the curve of your stomach and pant harshly until the vice loosens. There’s a new persistent twinge in your back and your other arm is beginning to go numb.

“Maybe you should stand for a bit - help the baby move down some?” you manage, panting from the exertion all the while.

I give you help to get up, your “oooh” of appreciation towards letting you straighten your back echoing in my ears. We position ourselves face to face, your arms wrapped around my shoulders loosely and my hands holding either side of your bump as we begin to sway with each other, the next contraction building. We rest forehead to forehead as I whisper to you “keep it going you’re doing great”. You don’t respond straight away, focusing on the pain until it finally releases, and you blow out a breath. Then, with a grin, you tilt your head back and look me in the eye as you say “you’re running down my inner thigh.”

We both burst into giggles as I rub my knee up and down your inner leg, moving it side to side to separate your knees, sure enough I feel the wet sloppiness against my skin.

“Will just have to break your waters and wash it all away” I reply.

“Don’t you dare, this baby comes when this baby comes” you groan as the next contraction picks up. Just before you go inward and focus on the contraction you whisper “though I think it might come pretty soon.”

We dance around in circles for the duration of the contraction, my eyes checking back on the tv screen. The lady on there is squatting down pushing hard, not making a sound other than occasional grunts as she pushes. “Staying upright seems to work for her, perhaps we should give it a go.”

It’s harder than you expect to stay on your feet, the full weight of gravity adding to the strain and pressure in your back, hips and legs. But I'm always there to support you and the freedom to pace and sway and bend and squat is easily worth the effort.

You lean forward, pressing your palms into the edge of the dresser as another contraction begins to build. I come up behind and trace my fingers up your sides to cup your breasts. I give them a gentle massage and the pain ratchets up a few notches in response. It takes your breath away in a high pitched moan and your legs widen out of instinct, though it does little to alleviate the mounting pressure.

“It feels like I’m about to pop,” you manage to make out with a little bounce and sway, as if that might have any effect on your waters. “Come on, baby, I know you must be ready to come out.” The only response was a sharpening of pain that had you doubled completely over.

“Hey, remember the woman on the tv,” I whisper, a gentle suggestion.

You turn your head and again am faced with the mother in a deep squat struggling hard against her child’s large head. You nod, and I help lower you so that your ass is almost to the floor. Your knees flare out to the side, your hard stomach rounding out between them like a huge bowling ball. You ride out the rest of the contraction this way before returning your eyes to the screen.

“Pretty soon there will be a head between these legs,” you say, your hand reaching back to search for mine.

I find it and kiss your cheek. “Very soon, my love,” I assure you as I help you back to your feet.

You turn to look into my eyes - they are a mixture of excitement and adoration and lust. You take one of my hands and position it between your legs. “Here is where the head of the child we made together will be. My legs wide open for you, just like they were on the night of conception, skin bulging into a tight dome, hole burning and stretching, being born right into our own hands.” This is our idea of dirty talk and it mixes with the desperate whines of the birth video and my fingers once again dance and stroke between your folds.

You don’t want to move as the next contraction picks up, so you grab onto my shoulders as ripples of sensation flow through your body. I know you so well that I somehow bring you to the precipice once again and your body clenches at the same time the contraction peaks and there is such a massive release that your knees buckle and you would have certainly fallen to the ground if I didn’t catch you.

When you come down from the high after a few breaths, you notice that it’s not just my hand that’s wet, but your legs and the floor as well. “Either that was one hell of a squirt, or my water just broke.”

The splash you just released was audibly loud, but lost on you as you gasped at the same time. My ankles and feet were soaked, caught in the splash back but to my inexperienced eyes it certainly looked like your waters had broken. The next contraction came fast - much sooner than any previous ones leading up to it, and based on the howl you made, was certainly more noticeable. Your fingers clamped down on my arms, my biceps feeling like you were trying to rip them out of place. I grimaced as you continued to yell at the unexpected intensity. My hands found a way to either side of the small of your back and you fell into the embrace, your forehead burying into my chest as you screamed into it. Finally after the longest 30 seconds of your life you managed a sniffling gasp, the contraction over.

“That one was hard?” I enquired. You just nodded, eyes filled with tears. Finally you gave a shuddering sob and said that the waters being gone meant you felt the full weight of the baby, with no cushioning… and with gravity adding to it… it hurt, bad.

We agreed we would get you down onto your hands and knees on the bed and see how the next one felt. It took a few moments of clambering to get you repositioned but eventually you settled as you gave a warning “it’s starting again.”

Thankfully this contraction wasn’t as painful - not sure if it was simply because of the fact you knew what to expect or indeed not being upright did help, but you vocalised with loud moans and groans whilst rubbing your belly, your weight supported on one hand and your knees. I pulled your hair back and tied it into a ponytail as I kneeled next to you, one hand wrapped over your shoulder, the other on top of your hand rubbing the belly, and my lips kissing the side of your neck.

Shortly after the moans and groans subsided as the contraction let go. “That sounds like it helped?” I asked.

You nodded, still certainly feeling more and more pain compared to before your water broke. “I feel the head behind my pubic bone” you say, your voice shaky. “It’s moving down.”

“Ahh” I say, racking my brain to think of something we had watched in a preparing for birth video. “I saw something about putting your knees together and lowering your ass to the ground, that opens the pelvis.”

You nodded as you rested whilst you could. I looked at the clock in the room, muttering under my breath.

“What’s up?” You asked.

“Cameras need to be played with.” I said. “Can you believe we’ve been at this for 5 hours now?”

Your head turns toward me “Yes!” you yell, mentally recounting the aches, pains and orgasms you’ve experienced so far.

“Don’t go anywhere” I say as I scramble up to swap the cards and check on batteries for the cameras. The ones in three corners of the room were straightforward, but the one we mounted above the TV unit - intended to give a nice wide angle shot of the room and hopefully catch you pushing - needed to grab the steps from the corridor. As I set them up you ploughed your head into the pillows and groaned, yelling at me to hurry back, the next contraction building.

I fiddled and fumbled with the camera, pulling out one of the SD cards and dropping it in my haste to put the other one in and start recording again. I glance down and couldn’t see it, mentally noting that I’d have to look for it when everything was over.

Jumping down off the steps I rush back over to you and catch a glimpse of your pussy exposed on the bed. Where it had been smooth before it was now noticeably bulging - your gasping cry announcing “I felt a pop I think the head got past my pelvic bone.”

The contractions are relentless—long, intense waves that crash over you one right on top of the other. You couldn’t move from this position if you wanted to, and I support you the best I can but your whining moans are constant.

“Too fast. It’s too fast.” You keep repeating it over and over, as if your labouring body would pay any heed to your concerns. But an invisible force has hold of you, and it seems to be reaching up inside, clenching and squeezing a battering ram slowly but forcefully against a hole far too small for it to pass through.

“What can I do?”

You don’t have the mental strength to turn your head to look at me, but you can hear my concern in my voice. You give my hand a little squeeze to let me know you’re okay. “Hot compress, please.”

I check the bowl of water we had prepared earlier for just this situation. The water wasn’t quite as hot as it had been, but squeezing out the facecloth inside it still felt warm to my fingers. The cloth was warm and comforting on your aching pussy and you press back further into my palm. Perhaps it slowed the descent to a more bearable pace, or perhaps it was enough to give you some illusion of control over the primal roiling in your body; either way, you were able to come back to yourself and focus on your breathing, on my touch, on the incredible, if terribly painful, sensation of our child’s head moving through your hips.

It takes a good half hour for the contractions to begin to slow again, and once there’s actually enough space between them for you to rest, you sigh deeply and slump over onto your side.

Your face is red and damp and lined from being buried in the pillows for so long, but I'm there with a cool washcloth this time, placing it on your forehead and giving you an adoring smile.

“Well that was intense,” you say with a chuckle, reaching out to brush your fingers against my jaw.

I take your hand, twisting it to kiss your palm. “You’re doing amazing, mama.”

The word sends a thrill through you, and you reach around your belly to the space between your legs. You’re surprised at how different it feels, the soft mound of your lips domed out by a harder object trapped behind them. You try to slip a finger inside to see if you can touch the head, but the angle and your current physical limitations make that difficult.

“Can you feel it?” You ask, finally giving up your own efforts.

I give you a quick peck on the lips before sliding my fingers into the spaces you couldn’t reach and stop just shy of the base. “Oh, baby. Hi, baby,” I coo, and your eyes well up.

“You’re touching our baby right now?” I nod in response.

The next contraction begins to build and the force of it alone pushes my fingers a little further out. “Won’t be long before you do too. Feeling the urge to push yet?”

You were going to say no, but your body answers for you as it curls in on itself and you let out a strangled, surprised yelp and bear down into your first real push.

“I can’t help it” you gasp as you come up for air after the involuntary push. “My body just won’t refuse… I can’t NOT push.”

I scramble around to sit next to you and rub your back as you gasp and once more bend forward, gritting your teeth, scrunching up your face and putting in the effort. In between contractions I dash out to the bathroom and bring a dish with a washcloth, ring it out and lay it on your head.

I lean back and grab the tv remote, turning off out little movie marathon… looks like it’s time to make our own.

Another two pushes like that and you’re panting. Finally though it seem to have released you from its grip, giving you some respite.

You collapse back, breathing deeply, my eyes drawn to your heaving breasts, moving up and down with your laboured breathing.

“That hurts more than I could have imagined” you say to me, in between your breaths. “I need something to take my mind off it… something top drawer.”

I know exactly what you mean and jump up off the bed, scuttling around to your side. I slide open the bedside drawers and pull out your pink vibrator - your favourite.

I flick it on - the buzzing sound coming on announces that the batteries are charged - and get back into my position.

“Hurry, hurry… I’m pushing… I’m pushing!” You trail off the last syllable lost to an anguished moan. I turn the vibe to low and rest it on your clit. The effect is immediate. You jump at the added sensation and let out a howl. Thinking I have hurt you in some way I pull it away rapidly and you practically hiss at me “don’t you fucking dare take that away until I say so.”

I gently lower it back onto your bud and press lightly, your howl turning into a moan of pleasure. “Faster, the contraction is ramping” you say as you hold your breath and push, my finger rubbing the control button with an audible increase in the vibrations.

Your hand darts out to the side and grabs me, the other gripping the sheets. Your vice-like grip clamps down at the first part of me you grab, wrapped firmly around my cock which had been hardening since watching the show.

I gasp in surprise—and maybe a tiny bit of pain—and you force your hand to loosen, to stroke, to tease. The contraction still has you in its grip, but there’s an undertone of familiarity in this mutual pleasuring. It gives your mind something else to focus on even while your body moans and tenses and struggles and heaves.

When the pain begins to recede, you take over the operation of the vibrator and I scoot to the end of the bed. I hastily prop you up with a mound of pillows and position myself between your knees. Your ass is practically hanging off the bed as you wrap your legs around my hips, pulling me closer. I press my palms into the bed on either side of you and lean forward over your belly to give you a deep kiss before pressing my cock against your pussy.

There is no longer enough space in there for both me and the baby, but you're wet with arousal and birthing fluids and the vibrations from your toy send shocks of sensation through us both. I begin to slide slowly through the rift between your folds, coating the length of me. As the lubrication increases, so does my speed and intensity, desperate to maintain that delicious friction.

Another contraction begins and I pause, eyes a bit glazed and breathing heavily but nonetheless more concerned with your pain than my pleasure. You uncross your ankles to let your knees fall open and pull back on your thighs, tossing the vibrator to the side for the moment. You throw your head back and push hard, biting back a guttural groan at the intense pressure that comes with it.

While all your focus is on pushing, I can’t help but be mesmerized by the feel of the baby’s head bowing out your skin as you push. My hips are still flush with yours and it presses against my dick. After several more pushes the contraction dwindles and I pick up where I left off with renewed fervour. I'm practically on top of you when you jam the vibe back to its intended location, hips pumping and jerking furiously and releasing increasingly enthusiastic grunts.

I finish first, but immediately click up the vibration intensity up to the max as my mouth goes to your breast, licking and sucking and nipping until you come tumbling over the edge after me.

The nipple play brought on another contraction quicker than expected and you wail in surprise as your loosened muscles allow the head to surge forward quickly with the next push.

“Uhhhnghhh,” you moan, helpless against your body’s instincts. “Oh, oh, ngh!” You try to catch your breath, but your abdominal muscles won’t release. “Fuck, babe. Fuck. Fuck!” You’re almost panicked now, your knees reflexively trying to snap shut.

My firm but tender hands keep them in place as I remind you, “Slow, love. Gentle pushes now. Your body knows what it’s doing.”

If it did know, it wasn’t sharing that information with your brain, but you nod anyway. You let out an almost meditative hum, and the controlled release allows you to draw in a long deep breath.

“That’s my girl,” I say approvingly, giving your leg a little squeeze.

When it’s finally over, your eyes find mine and there’s a hint of excitement in them. “What is it?”

“I saw the head on that last push,” I reveal with a grin. Your hand automatically reaches out to feel but I shake my head. “It’s gone back in now, but it means you’re so close, babe.”

You pout and flop back into your nest of pillows. “I want to see too,” you whine, somewhat petulantly, and it gets a chuckle out of me.

“I thought you might feel that way, and I’ve got a bit of a surprise for you that I think might help.” I get up and rummage around in one of the dresser drawers, pulling out a small camera and flicking the tv on as I walk back to the bed. I position the lens right in front of your pussy and then flip the switch to turn it on. The tv suddenly lights up with a big screen projection of your bulging, gaping hole. “Now you can stand or squat or sit or be on hands and knees and you’ll still be able to see exactly what’s going on down there.”

“You’re… you’re recording this feed too, right?” You ask, transfixed as you open your legs wider and use your fingers to tug at the stretched skin to see if you can see anything in there.

I prop up a ring light and flip it on, adjusting it until it illuminated the area perfectly. “Of course.”

“Good,” You gasp, setting your eyes on the large screen,” because the next contraction is starting.”

You grunt as the contraction rapidly picks up, trying your hardest to focus on the screen and not close your eyes. In front of you is a crystal clear, 42 inch high definition image of your lower half, and you are suddenly in awe.

The picture is so clear, you see the rivulets of my previous load dripping down between your legs. I grab the washcloth and wipe the mess up, as you grunt and moan a hurried “get out the way” in between contractions.

As I whip away the cloth, we’re both taken aback by the large scale image of your slightly parting lips, and the white mass in between… you squeal, the revelation magical to you, and watch as the head slips back as the contraction fades away once more.

“That… that was something” you pant, trying to recover your breath. “But I need you to help me.”

I nod, giving you a kiss as I move to kneel down between your legs, as you rush to stop me.

“No!” You squeal when you realise I’m blocking the camera. In my haste I hadn’t realised.

“Get behind me… I need to…” and once more you pulled your legs back and held your breath, this time eyes closed in concentration.

I climb up onto the bed and squeeze in close behind you, scattering your pillow nest around the room as I get into place. I get onto my knees, and rock back onto my haunches as you flop back against me at the end of the push, your breathing ragged as you gasp for air.

My hands wrap around under your arms and rest cupping your breasts, where once more I start to massage the pronounced nubs, resulting in wet fingers as your milk starts to flow around them.

As the contraction rapidly builds, I look over your shoulder and stare at the screen, my eyes wide at the image. “Look, look baby… you’re doing it, you’re doing it.” I’m full of enthusiasm as I see more and more of the head peeking out, and finally your lips going from flesh coloured to puffy and red as they stretch to accommodate the mass behind them.

Your hands rush to instinctively cover your opening as you whine about the burning as you push but as you lower your fingers once more we see the results of your work - the teardrop shape of the head in place - the previous white skin back to a more satisfying pink colour visible between your lips as the pressure is finally released on the head and you get a moment of respite.

You use the precious time between contractions to catch your breath and massage your opening. It’s strange, exploring this intimate part of yourself that’s so familiar and yet, at the moment, entirely unrecognizable. It’s round and heavy and stinging, and there’s a patch of skin right at the centre that’s not your own.

“There’s our baby,” You sigh, resting your head back against my shoulder and stroking the small patch of exposed head with the pad of your finger. “Can’t wait to finally meet you.”

Your hand moves higher as another contraction starts, pressing into your clit as the skin beneath presses painfully outward. You push and the dome distends out impossibly far, but the crown remains stubbornly small. You don’t want to force anything before your body is ready (or, frankly, obstruct the view), so you stay this way, relaxed and removed from the pain, and let the reflexive force of your muscles do most of the work for the next few contractions. I help by keeping your knees pulled out and back as you groan and tense and hiss and shake, helping with the stretching in the quiet moments between.

There’s a much more circular, but still quite small, opening that our child is trying to force its way through when some primal desperation kicks in. Why is this taking so long? Why are you not opening up enough? What if the baby won’t fit? It already hurts so much, what if you can’t handle the rest of the birth?

You are anything but calm when the next contraction comes and your sudden panic - strangled whines and restless thrashing - takes me by surprise.

My eyes immediately go to the tv screen, but all seems just as it was to me. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You can’t put it into words. You just grip my thighs in an iron fist and throw everything into a wild push. The head surges forward and you scream as your hole stretches violently wider in one quick motion.

“Whoa, easy, easy!” I scramble for a warm wet cloth and leaning over your shoulder, press firmly against the modest crown. You try to squirm away from the counterpressure - at that moment you want nothing more than for this to be over with as quickly as possible - but of course I'm pressed up against you from behind as well; there’s nowhere for you to go. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, and you’ve got this.”

You shake your head and attempt another monumental push, but this time I’m ready. In fact, I have to press so hard against your efforts than when the contraction is over and you finally stop pushing, the head goes most of the way back in and when I pull my hand away, you're back at a teardrop.

“No, no, NO!” You yell, taking me by surprise. I stroke your hair, telling you it will be ok but you just shake your head.

“It’s so hard… I just want to push it out but my lips won’t let it.” You’re frustrated, in pain, tired and getting a little too grumpy for your own peace of mind, so sigh, shaking your head and taking a deep breath, trying to get your focus back.

“You’re doing so well baby… just pant when it gets tight if you feel your pushes aren’t doing anything - let your body do some of the work.”

You nod, taking another glance at the tv as the contraction builds. Your eyes close and you mutter under your breath “come to mummy” as your lips bulge and your fingers trace circles around the tiny peak of skin between your legs.

I watch as the head bulges out again, your red, flared lips hugging it tightly. Once more you reach a peak of pain and start to yell as I remind you “pant, pant.”

You gasp, realising how much on autopilot you were acting and do just that, huffing giant gulps of air. The head stops retreating when you let go of the push.

“Baby’s on its way!” I cry out, you can’t help but have a giant grin on your face as the contraction finally releases you.

You’re fascinated by the way your pussy looks like this. There is still pain there—of course there is, with the amount of bulge there is right now—but there’s also hope, excitement, awe, maybe even a bit of arousal. You remember the promises I made when we were trying to conceive, promises to fill you up with a big baby and then watch as you struggle to push it out. And now you’re doing just that.

Another contraction starts and you begin to pant along with my coaching. The head pushes out further, but your hole doesn’t get any bigger. You hold your breath in an experimental push, but it just has you crying out and I suggest you go back to breathing and moaning and letting your body do the pushing.

You can’t disagree, but it’s so much more agonizingly slow this way. It’s probably another twenty minutes before there’s a noticeable size difference, and by then the pressure is unbearable.

“I have to push. I have to- I have to push!” You yell as the next contraction begins to build. It’s not a decision so much as a warning and your body trembles with tension and anticipation.

“Just wait until you absolutely can’t keep from pushing for another second.” Your breathing picks up to an unsustainable pace and your vocalizations reach new heights and your feet are off the bed, knees pulling back of their own accord in preparation. “Go for it babe,” I urge.

And you do. You give a mighty roar, but you're doing it. You swallow your fear of the pain and the chaos and you train your eyes on the taut round ‘O’ on the screen. At the slightly downward angle of the camera, you can see just how distended and round the head is behind your opening. With another push, it’s like you can see the whole outline of it and once again it doesn’t seem possible, but it is. I tell you over and over again that not only is it possible, but it’s happening.

It takes another few contractions of full on pushing when the animalistic part nearly takes over again. The slowly building fire is suddenly a full-on inferno between your legs and you slam back into me as if trying to retreat away from your own body, head thrown back in a silent scream and a few tears of pain falling down your cheeks as the fading contraction does nothing to douse the flames still raging on between your lips.

“It’s crowning now,” I tell you, since your eyes are closed.

“Mmhm,” You manage weakly, though when you look at the screen you find that it’s still not quite to a full crown. “Maybe… maybe I need a new position.”

“Do you want to squat, let gravity do a bit?” I ask, and you nod your head without uttering a word. Knowing that time is very much against us in between contractions, I lift you up under your shoulders, a difficult task as you’re unable to help pull yourself up from your position, but with a strong tug, and your legs scrabbling under you in their wide-open gait, we manage to get you upright.

The weight between your legs is immediately noticeable with the added effects of gravity causing you to yell as the next contraction picks up. Your hands grab onto my arms, the only thing keeping you upright right now, as your head pushes back into my shoulder, your roar loud and free of any inhibition.

I can no longer see any sign of the head glancing down between your breasts and belly so look frantically at the screen - your back arches back toward me as you push, trying desperately to move things along, but perhaps more importantly, that results in your crotch poking forward, still on display on the screen.

Your pussy is stretched tight, the head bulging out, the baby’s forehead starting to appear.

I think back to the videos, most of them showed the head shooting out soon after it crowned, but for you, it was moving with an agonising slowness, but it was moving. I’m sure with the next contraction it’ll get past the nose and ears, and surely that would mean there are no other protrusions keeping the head in place.

You scream in frustration as yet another contraction passes, you sag your weight against me. You’re panting heavily, exhausted at the effort.

“You’re doing great baby, almost there, maybe on the next push” is all I can offer by way of encouragement.

Nothing can compare to the fullness you feel. There is so much weight still pressing at your back, in your hips, and of course behind your opening. You can see it on the screen, the way your skin is drawn out taut and tight and so thin that you can see the ridges of the baby’s features just below the surface. The pressure built up behind is almost unbearable, and you’re panting desperately just to keep from pushing before it’s time, before your body is ready.

You moan when another contraction begins to take hold and I tighten my grip on you as your knees bend and you sink into a deeper squat.

“Mm, please come out, baby,” you beg, waiting for the urgency to build. “Hmmm. Oooooh. Ngh!”

The pressure peaks and you bear down hard with it. The dome bulges out comically far as your abdominal muscles war with your tight pussy. It retreats a bit when you release your breath, then pushes out again when you do.

“Do you want me to help ease the skin back?” I offer after another fruitless contraction.

You shake your head, determined to deliver the head without intervention. You stay in a deep squat this time, not risking losing any progress, and I settle onto my knees behind you—I’m more steady, plus the camera angle is better for both of us this way.

I nuzzle into your hair and kiss your neck. “You’re doing so well, baby.”

“I’m tired and it hurts,” You pout. I hum in sympathy, but my eyes never leave the screen and you can feel that I'm hard again. “At least you’re enjoying this part.”

I kiss you again. “You know what those sounds you’re making do to me. How hard you’re working and how beautifully you’re opening up. All for our baby. Can’t help it if I’m excited.”

You know you will be too, watching this back. But right now, another contraction slams into you and you tug your knees back as far as they’ll go. You're shaking with exertion, but finally there’s movement and you howl as your skin stretches over the nose. The movement stops when you release your push and I urge you to keep going.

“Baby’s almost here, you can do it! Pushpushpush!”

With considerable effort, you suck some air into your lungs and hold it there, putting your chin to your chest and heaving another massive push. A desperate high-pitched squeal escapes you as you cross the mouth and chin, but you manage to hold onto the push until finally…

“Head’s out! Oh my god, the head’s out. You did it, baby, I’m so proud of you.”

Fluids leak out around the head as I check for a cord. The baby turns in my hands just before another contraction picks up—now you just have to get through the shoulders.

You’re stunned, the feeling of the “pop” resonating around your entire being as you felt the head come free. You’re panting, waiting for the immediate urge to push to finish all the hard work and effort you had put in today, but your body wouldn’t let you.

You relax, waiting for the contraction to build. Taking a moment you reach down, whilst simultaneously looking at the view of the head resting between your legs. It looks so… calm, considering the effort leading up to it.

Your hand strokes the baby and you mutter under your breath “I can’t believe it”

You can’t keep your elation in check. All of the last few moments passed in only a heartbeat in real time but for you the moment lingered for what seems like minutes. You snap out of it when I land a kiss on your forehead and join your hands holding the baby.

Suddenly the peace is shattered as the next contraction builds. You push, effort renewed, you go deeply inward wanting things to be over, but the hoped for release doesn’t happen. You expected the shoulders to slip out.

Another push, once again no movement. You start to fret a little, you yell with the next push “come out!”

I’m started at the exclamation as I look down between your legs and we see the baby’s hand poking out from under its chin. The next word summarises the moment perfectly… “fuck!”

You give a mighty heave, and panic slightly when progress halts and the pain ratchets up unbearably. You scream, partially in frustration but also very much in agony, and I immediately drop to my knees for better access to what’s happening between your legs.

“Wait, stop, stop pushing!”

The urgency in my tone is the only thing that could give you pause in that moment, and you look down to see a small trickle of red down your leg and absorbing into the pad beneath your feet. You try panting to keep from pushing and squeeze my shoulder. “Did I- shit, did I tear?”

I’m quiet for a moment, my hands gently supporting your skin and holding the baby firmly in place. “No, no I don’t think so,” I finally say, giving you a bit of a nervous smile. “But you’ve gotta go really slow now to stretch around the arm and the shoulders.”

“Right. Slow.” You glance down at my awkward crouched position, and yours is not much better. “Maybe I should try lying down again.” That had certainly slowed down progress before.

Bracing yourself with one hand on the mattress, you lean down onto your hip, then fully onto your side, keeping your other knee flared out and open as I adjust to accommodate the baby’s head. You grab a pillow to support your belly. You shift restlessly when another contraction starts and pull your leg back towards you.

“Easy, controlled pushes now,” I remind you, giving the inside of your thigh an affectionate stroke. “You’ve got this.”

You nod, more to yourself than to me, and slowly contract your abdominal muscles. Your breath leaves in a low hum with the effort as your stomach squeezes and compresses. You can feel the pressure build up behind your opening, but much like before, nothing progresses further into the world.

Several more contractions later and you’re starting to get tired and discouraged. “I don’t care about tearing anymore, I just want this baby out,” you whine, close to tears.

I run my free hand up and down your shin comfortingly. “You don’t mean that. And besides, you’re doing great.” When I see you grab your knee and curl forward again, I say, “Alright, this is the one, I can feel it.” you have your eyes squeezed shut, but I lean forward to brush your cheek and point your chin toward the TV. “Just look at how beautiful you are, how amazing your body is.” You’re stretched so impossibly wide and the head is so big, it really is a miracle the delivery has gone as well as it has so far. “You were made for this; now just let it happen.”

With your eyes on the screen, you join your hand with mine under the baby’s head, and push.

Your grunt starts low in your chest and builds and builds as you apply more and more pressure between your legs. I lean to the side so the overhead camera gets a good view - as the hand and shoulder slide out from between your legs. You’re obviously aware of it as you let out a joyful whoop of success.

“Keep going baby” I offer as you once more grunt and heave. I adjust my arms to support the weight of the baby as its second shoulder slides out, then suddenly without warning, once all the things blocking it leaving were removed, the baby’s torso and legs shot out, taking both of us by surprise.

Your eyes shot wide open. “It’s over?” You gasped.

“We have our baby… a daughter” I smile as I lift the - surprisingly large - baby up between your legs and lay it on your chest. Tears are flowing freely from your eyes now, the sense of success and relief washing away all of the last few hours.

I take a glance around the room, all camera lights were still blinking. I give a thumbs up gesture to be captured for posterity as I get up and move to your shoulders to coo over the baby who is now crying up a storm.

“Can’t wait to see how the video comes out.” I grin.

#birth kink #fpreg #birth #labor kink #pregnancy

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babysfirsthaze · 17 days ago

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need gross perverted caitlyn so bad.........

Untitled (Caitlyn Kiramman x Reader)

Synopsis: uhhh gross Cait I've been promising since January, or something. Sorry. Doing my best out here. CAITLYN KIRRAMAN IS TRANS TO ME, SHE HAS A PENIS. She violates you but it's hot I swearrrr.

Content: f! reader, cnc, spitting, lots of spit, brief fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, nutting inside, sex referred to as rape, heavy degradation, praise (because she's dignified like that), hand holding, cnc again, the cnc is very heavy, seriously dead dove do not EAT, she starts off mean and gets nicer when she starts fuckin you, aftercare kinda, the aftercare is pathetic, you shld really get a better wife...its rape the kink is rape don't read it if you don't like that. not proofread

A/n: SORRY I PROMISED THIS AGES AGO AND IT'S ONLY COME OUT NOW I KNOW I KNOW I'M SORRY. I started writing this back in February and then shit got hectic and I got cheated on and just ohh my god I couldn't. But it's done now I hope it was everything yg dreamed of,,, gross Cait nation ily please don't have died on me :(

Caitlyn has missed you. She’s been out all day, getting work done, getting, frankly, incredibly pissed off. You’re all she can think about as she addresses a meeting full of idiots, as she stomps around and barks orders. Your soft body, the way you smile at her, the way you looked so cute this morning, when she got up and left the house before you woke up. You’re all she’s thinking about as she stuffs her key in the door, pushing it open roughly with her shoulder so she can see you. When she finally does you look up from your book, startled. You weren’t expecting her home quite this early. She doesn't look happy, and you slowly put your tea down on the coffee table, before sitting up against the couch. “Hi, Caitie. How was work?”

“Shut up,” she grunts, stomping her way over to you. Then before you know what's happening she's got her weight on you, and you grunt, feeling yourself pushed back against the couch. Ah. Alright. This is what we're doing.

“Missed you so much,” Cait all but slurs, grabbing at your shirt, long, slender fingers clumsily trying to pull it off. “Gonna rape you, okay? Gonna rape this pretty fuckin pussy.” And then she pauses, slightly, you can feel it; a nod from you, yes, Catie, you can rape me, and she's grabbing at you like it's the last chance she'll ever get. Her mouth latches onto your neck, it's less a kiss and more like she's trying to eat you alive. “Fuckin whore. Missed you so much, fuck, baby– gonna hurt you so bad.” You groan in response, squirming slightly where you've been unceremoniously slammed into the couch. She licks a stripe up your neck, and begins to pull off your clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor by the couch. She smells like sweat and the last notes of your perfume, her hands are rough, her breath heavy, her muscles twitching and shaking.

“Stupid fucking– mm,” she's too overwhelmed to insult you, so instead she just grabs your face, kissing you wet, heavy, slow. You're pretty sure you feel her spit in your mouth. One of her hands tangles in your hair, grabs a fistfull of it, and the other moves down your body, grabbing, groping, exploring.

She pulls roughly at your hips, trying to tug you closer to her. “Come here.” She kisses you, again, licking her tongue into your mouth, everything feels vaguely sticky and wet. You pant, trying your best to process everything that's happening. “Fuck, Caitie– slow down,” “What don't you understand about shut up?” she spits, literally, leaning up over you and spitting on your chest. She gathers the saliva with the pad of her thumb and brings it down to your nipple, circling around the sensitive skin and watching as the temperature change makes it perk up. The stimulation sends tingles down your stomach and you bite your lip to suppress a whine. She groans, a sadistic sort of grin on her face, and kisses you again, leaving open-mouthed, wet kisses on your face. She can taste the sweat and the makeup on your skin, it makes her dizzy. She is so, unbearably hard, and you look so good under her.

You whine, and she pinches your nipple. “‘S gross, baby,” you're pouting, and right hand on the bible, Cait feels her heart stutter. “You don't like it?” She spits on you again, just so see that pout, saliva landing right under your eye. “Take my fuckin dick out, baby. Stop complainin. I know you like it, fuck– yeah, that's it, good girl, good baby…” The metal of her jean buttons is cool against your fingers, and you can feel warm saliva rolling down your cheekbone, to your hairline, as you pull her trousers off, palming her through her panties. She is indeed, very hard. You can feel the warm wet of her precum leaking through the fabric, and she lets out a long, low moan, pressing her face into your shoulder. And she bites, making you gasp, the sting deep in your muscle.

“Oh you fucking bitch, what a good girl. Hmm? Does that- ohh, fuck, fuck. Let me- shit, baby. C’mere.”

The first thing you register is her cold, harsh hands on your thighs, pressing them apart. You can feel her wedding ring on one finger, the metal digging into your warm skin, and she scoots up to get a good look at your pussy, wet and waiting for her. “Good girl,” she croons, dribbling more spit onto the sensitive skin. She presses a thumb to your clit, harsh, making you gasp and arch your back. She grins. “You gonna take it, sweetheart?” She works her length out of her pants, circling her thumb around your clit as she gets them off, a little awkwardly. You nod, and she begins to work her middle finger into your entrance, jerking off her tip in time, groaning under her breath. Her slender digits stretch you out deliciously, curling into your soft walls and making you mewl, her technique practiced and precise- she knows her girl, knows what gets you off, what makes your eyes go fuzzy and your pussy go nice and loose. She mutters something about fucking slut you don’t quite catch, and then grabs at your thighs to rest them around her hips.

Cait presses her tip against your entrance, azure eyes half-lidded and filled with lust. “Fuck, I missed you,” she mumbles, eyes locked on your love like she’s talking right to your pussy, but her left hand dips down to entwine her fingers with yours. She squeezes, hard. And then with a groan she presses the head of her cock into your pussy, your warmth squeezing her so wonderfully tight, and she can’t help but press her weight further, burying her length in you, eyes closed in complete serenity and bliss.

You on the other hand, are struggling.

“Caitie- Cait,” you whine, trying to reason with her, squeezing her cool hand in your own. Her girth always stretches you out, you’d think after years with the woman it’d get easier. But no, the stretch still stings, and she still goes so deep you can feel it in your tummy, poking at your insides. She responds by rutting into you, forcing you to just take it, you both know you can. “You’re fine,” Caitlyn says almost soothingly, still pressing on your clit, she’s trying really hard not to just fuck you senseless right now. She’ll wait. And eventually you do relax, the pain subsiding to a pleasant full feeling. Immediately she’s taking the opportunity, pulling her hips back and snapping them forward again, cock bullying your newly accustomed walls, earning a lewd squelch. “Tha’s it,” She groans, beginning to fuck you properly, her weight pressing yours into the couch, sticky, hot skin smothering you. The sensation fills your tummy with warmth and you moan loudly, back arching to take her dick better.

Cait growls into your skin, thrusting her hips hard, as if trying to get out all her frustration on you in a single round. Your walls squeeze her so good and she can hardly think straight, her head spinning, the only thoughts in her mind about pounding you, raping you, emptying her load so deep in your pussy a part of her becomes embedded in you forever and she never has to let you go. Hot, overwhelming pleasure fills your body, blooming from between your thighs all the way up to the back of your throat. “Baby- mmf, fuck,” you mewl, squeezing her waist with your thighs, which earns you a harsh slap because it slows her down and she can’t have that. Almost as an apology she shifts to kiss you, licking into your mouth, encouraging your tongue to push into hers so she can suck on it.

The feeling is mind-numbing, and you whimper into her mouth, unable to do anything but take it, take her mouth, her dick, her treatment. She fucks at a relentless pace already, bullying your pussy and giving your clit enough attention to make you cry. The smell of sweat and sex fills the living room, your book layed neglected on a couch cushion, and the only thing you can hear is Cait groaning, muttering into your skin, and the steady plap, plap, plap sound of nasty sex. You can barely get a word in and when you do, she swallows it up greedily like it’s the only thing she's been craving. She fucks you like it’s the last chance she’ll get, like she’s been waiting, waiting to fuck you like this since the first time this morning some idiot made her jaw clench.

“Fuck, baby, such a good whore…love this pussy, sh’takes me so well, huh? Yeah, yeah…” Cait trails off somewhat breathlessly, burying her dick so deep it makes your eyes prick up and all you can do is gasp uselessly against her lips, overwhelmed by sensations and already feeling your tummy start to clench as your orgasm approaches. Your eyes flutter, and she hisses as your left hand finds her back, raking harsh, red lines into her pale skin. She doesn’t let up, doesn’t change pace. Just pants and growls into your ear, hitting that spot so deep inside you over, and over, and over, making that knot so impossibly tight you think you might cry.

Suddenly she changes the way she touches you, going from slow circles around your clit to fast, hard side-to-side motions. “Ah-..!” You squeal, nails digging further into her back, the unforgiving pace of it all making you writhe, making your body feel like it’s on fire. “Fuck, fuck, right there, fuck, Caittttcaitcaitcaitcait!” You babble, thighs shaking and pussy squeezing so tight around her. She groans your name with an almost predatory look in her eyes, moaning loudly when your release does come. She works you through it relentlessly, keeping up her bruising thrusts, working your clit till you stop shaking, till you moans becomes whines and then squeaks. At that point she shifts her weight, leaning over your body and pressing herself completely against you. She ruts into you, chasing her own release, teeth bared and drooling onto your shoulder, her fingers gripping onto your thigh and gripping it so hard it hurts.

“Take it, take it, take it, take it,” she repeats like a mantra, rutting into you every time she says the words. You can feel her dick twitch, pulse against your walls- and then with a heavy groan she cums, shaky hips pressed flush against yours. Even through your hazy mind you’re lucid enough to appreciate the way it fills you up, a warm, gooey feeling you can’t get anywhere else, from anyone else. She stays pressed up against you for a few seconds while you both catch your breath, before pulling out gingerly.

“Good girl,” she hums, pressing kisses up your shoulder to your neck, your cheeks, your mouth. She laps up any drool that wound up on your chin, hands running appreciatively over your twitchy body. “Took me so well. Such a pretty girl, hm?” One more kiss, “Sorry I spat on you.”

#arcane #piltovers finest #mine #arcane smut #arcane x reader #caitlyn kiramman #asks #top caitlyn #caitlyn smut #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn x you #trans caitlyn kiramman

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rafayelxsylusho · 3 months ago

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How would the lads man react to you faking an orgasm part 4 and final.

I hope you guys liked all the parts😊

TW: SMUT 🪐🪐

Caleb x reader

STAY QUIET

Hidden away in his childhood room at your grandma's house he had you spread out on his bed, your back arched as his tongue delved between your thighs, breathy gasps and whimpers spilling from your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair to hold him closer.

Suddenly you hear the front door close with a resounding click. Gran was home. Your muscles tense beneath him, your breath hitching in panic. The room had fallen silent, save for the distant sound of footsteps approaching the bedroom door.

But even as terror gripped him, Caleb didn't stopped. He couldn't bring himself to pull away, to leave your warmth and your intoxicating taste behind. So he stayed put, his tongue continuing its slow, deliberate strokes along your sensitive flesh, even as he prayed for Gran not to walk in.

That's when you pretend to reach that peak, just to get him to stop and to get you both out of a potentially disastrous situation.

He looks up at you and says "Don't insult my intelligence, y/n" his eyes blazing into yours with an intensity that makes you flinch. "Don't lie to me" his voice low and dangerous. "Not about this. Not ever."

He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, the urgency of the moment demanding swift action. In one sudden, fluid motion, he had his arms hooked under your knees and behind your back, lifting you clear out of the bed.

Heavy footsteps approached the bedroom door, growing louder with each passing second. Caleb's heart hammered against his ribs, his breath coming out in short, panicked bursts. He had to act fast. He had to get you out of there, away from prying eyes and probing questions.

Caleb carries you silently towards the bathroom, your half-dressed body pressed close to his chest. Once you guys are inside his bathroom he kicks the door shut, the soft click of the door latching sounds deafening in the tense silence.

"Shh," he breathes out, pressing a finger to your lips in a gesture for silence. "Not a word, Pip-squeak. Not a sound." He sets you down on the cool tile floor, his hands gripping your waist tightly. His eyes blazing into yours, intense and serious, warning you to stay quiet. The air between you cracks with tension, the seconds stretching out as you both listen for any sign of your grandmother approaching the bathroom.

After several seconds pass you try to leave the bathroom to get your clothes and get dressed but his grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he holds you firmly in place. A fierce determination flashing in his purple eyes as he stares down at you, his expression unyielding.

"Oh no, we're far from done, little one," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with barely contained desire. He shakes his head slowly, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "You didn't think you could just run away that easily, did you?"

"We've got all the time in the world now," he growls, his hot breath ghosting over your skin. "And I intend to take my time with you." His other hand slides down to the curve of your hip, squeezing the supple flesh possessively " You just have to be very quiet"

Caleb leans in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers, "I'm not letting you go until I've had my fill. Until I've wrung every last drop of pleasure from your sweet little body."

Caleb's hands grip your thighs, lifting them up and around his waist pressing your back against the cool, tiled wall of the bathroom. He pins you there with the weight of his body, his hips nestling between your parted legs.

With a low, impatient growl, Caleb reaches down and unzips his pants, freeing his hard, aching length. The thick shaft pulsing with need. He looks at you, his eyes dark and intense, filled with a hunger that makes your heart race.

"Wrap your legs around me, Pip-squeak," he commands, his voice rough and demanding. His large hands are gripping your thighs, spreading them wider, opening you up to him. The head of his cock brushing against your most intimate place, teasing, promising, as Caleb waits for you to obey his command.

Caleb's breath hitches as he feels your legs wrap tightly around his waist, your ankles locking behind his back. His hands slide up to grip your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He can feel the heat radiating off your core, teasing him, urging him closer.

Purple eyes lock with yours, burning with an intensity that makes your pulse jump. "That's it, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "Hold on to me. Hold on tight."

Caleb leans in, claiming your mouth in a searing kiss that steals your breath away. His tongue stroking, tasting, as he grounds his hips forward. The head of his cock pushing insistently against your entrance, the slick heat drawing him in.

Caleb's voice drops to a low, husky rumble as he leans in close once again to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Wrap your arms around my neck, sweetheart. Hold onto me tight, because I'm about to show you what a real orgasm feels like."

His hands grip your hips firmly, fingers sinking into the soft curves as he positions himself at your entrance. With a swift, powerful thrust, Caleb buries himself fully inside you, his thick length deep within your tight, slick heat.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment at the exquisite sensation of being enveloped so perfectly. "You feel incredible."

Caleb begins to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm as he thrust into you again and again. The bathroom fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, mingling with your increasingly ragged breaths.

"Look at us, love," he pants, nodding towards the large mirror opposite to you. "Watch as I claim you, watch as I make you mine." Caleb angles his hips, making sure each powerful thrust hits that secret spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids.

"Can you see it, sweetheart? Can you see how fucking perfect we look together?" His voice strained, his body coiled with tension as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. "I want you to watch your face when you come undone, I want you to watch when you shatter in my arms and maybe next time you can be more convincing"

You freeze for a split second at the sound of a knock on his bedroom door, his body tensing but he doesn't stop his relentless thrusts, too far gone in his lust to cease his claim. Instead, he presses a finger to your lips, silencing you with a warning look.

"Shh, not a sound, Pip-squeak," he breathed out, his voice barely audible. "Not a word, understand?" His purple eyes intense and serious, warning her to stay quiet.

Caleb angles his hips, driving into you harder, deeper, determined to bring you to the peak of ecstasy despite the interruption. The bathroom fills with the sound of your coupling, mixing with the distant sound of Grandma's muffled voice.

"Caleb? Y/n? Are you in there?"

Caleb's heart is racing, but he doesnt miss a beat, his hands grip your hips tighter as he takes you with deep, powerful strokes. He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Be quiet, sweetheart. Don't make a sound. Let me make you feel good."

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub as he feels you start to tighten around him. "Come for me, y/n" he urges, his voice low and rough. "Be quiet and come on my cock. Now."

Caleb feels your body start to quake, your walls fluttering deliciously around his pistoning length. He can tell you are close, teetering on the very edge of ecstasy. Determined to make this unforgettable, he captures your lips in a searing kiss, biting down on your lower lip to stifle any sound.

"Eyes on the mirror, baby," he commands, his voice a low, urgent growl against her mouth. "Watch yourself come apart on my cock. Watch the pleasure on your beautiful face."

"Now, sweetheart. Cum now," he urges, his thumb pressing hard against your sensitive nub, sending you hurtling over the edge.

Your body convulses in silence, your eyes wide and locked on your reflection in the mirror. You watch, transfixed, as ecstasy contorts your expression and your walls clamp down like a vice around Caleb's throbbing length. A silent scream of rapture catches in your throat as your climax crashes over you, wave after wave of intense, toe-curling bliss radiating through every nerve ending.

Caleb feels his climax building like a tidal wave, your fluttering walls milking his throbbing length. His hips jerking erratically, losing their rhythm as the pleasure consumes him. A guttural groan builds in his chest, threatening to erupt.

Sensing his impending release, you quickly cover Caleb's mouth with your small hand, silencing the primal sounds of his impending climax. Your fingers pressing firmly against his lips as his body shakes, muscles coiled tight.

Caleb's eyes lock with yours, the purple irises blazing with unbridled lust and raw emotion. With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside your spasming heat. His release surging through him, his thick cock pulsing and throbbing as he empties himself deep inside you.

Muffled groans and grunts vibrate against your palm as Caleb rides out the intense waves of his climax, his hips jerking sporadically. You hold his gaze, watching pure bliss and satisfaction across his handsome features.

For a long moment, you remain locked together, bodies trembling and hearts pounding as the aftershocks of your shared ecstasy washes over you. Finally, Caleb slumps forward, his forehead resting against yours as he struggles to catch his breath, his release slowly ebbing away.

As the sound of Grandma's car driving away fades into the distance, Caleb's lips curve into a smug, satisfied smirk, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck his stubble lightly grazing your soft skin. His voice is a low, intimate murmur as he speaks.

"Looks like we're finally alone now, sweetheart. No more interruptions." His hand slides up your side, cupping your breast and giving it a gentle squeeze. "What do you say we continue this downstairs? I'm not nearly done with you yet."

Note: I'm sorry if this is not perfect. English is not my first language but I try my best 😊😊.

#lads smut #love and deepspace #lnds #lads #caleb x reader #lads caleb #lnds caleb #caleb x you #love and deepspace caleb #caleb #lnds smut #love and deepspace fic

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weskie · 1 year ago

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Just Pretend [Love is Madness] (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

18+ | soft and fuck nasty wombo combo wesker, he whimpers, biting, what if wesker was in love AND denial, p/rn without plot | Fic Directory

You bury your face in the sheets, fists scrambling for purchase in the soft silk. The moan that leaves you is anything but dignified, though you’d passed that threshold long ago. He’s had a long day, and you were all too happy to help him get it out of his system.

A hand twists in your hair while another takes a biting grip at your waist to steady you with each punishing thrust.

So thick, so full…

“Al…” You mewl, the nickname a sacred utterance only for special moments, whether carnal or tender. You hear the way he shudders. You feel the flex in his grip. Wesker loves it and you know full well he does. By the stutter of his hips turning to a wet grind, you know it drives him crazy to be called such a sweet, silly name. To feel every one of your proclamations of love seep into something so… mundane.

You feel him collapse, chest pressing flat and hot against your back as he braces himself, breaths panting in your ear. He’s not done– nowhere near it. This is just how he gets away with the softer things. He thinks you don’t know how much he fucking loves the full body contact. That he shivers when the whole of you is pressed to him, when he feels completely joined with you.

He peppers kisses from behind your ear down to the junction of your neck, each one wet and warm and full of unspoken adoration. Each shallow grind into your heat makes him try and fail to bite back weak little moans until he becomes so fed up, so frustrated that he can’t keep his perfect composure, that he simply has to sink his teeth into your flesh. At least he could lie and say it was just the taste of you that made him make such sweet little sounds.

“Oh god!”

You know that’ll drive him wild too. For in his mind, he is the god to whom you cry out.

And how right he is…

His hands snake up your waist to grab at your chest, pulling you against him even firmer. Your hand flies back to thread in his hair, tugging softly at his ruffled locks. The force of his bite leaves you and is replaced with his tongue laving hot across his mark. He gives two sharp rocks of his hips before rising off of you, pulling you into a kneeling position– back tight to his chest the way he likes it. With an arm around your waist once more, he lets loose. The bed creaks and moans beneath the force of his motions, and you’re fully convinced it’s going to give out one day. Its song of protest is drowned by your symphony of passion, of skin on skin and desperate noises coming from you both.

He bites down on you again to hide his sounds, but it’s to no avail. Nothing can quite disguise the sound of Wesker whining and whimpering as he gives three sharp thrusts and a stuttering fourth before you feel him spilling within you– and oh how he sings for you. That edge to his voice quakes with every tight moan he can’t suppress and your name finds its way between each heavy breath. His arms pull tighter than ever around you as if letting go would make him fade into nothing.

But he doesn’t stop. He never stops– never stops grinding or managing the occasional shallow rut. The slide of his cock gets wetter with every bit of come that seeps out around it. You’re on cloud nine, dangerously close to falling over the edge yourself when the hand at your waist finally drops to finish you off.

“Let–” he gasps softly, “let go, now.”

The sound of him still stumbling over his breaths coupled with the perfect touch does you in immediately. It makes you arch and writhe against his unyielding grip as each wave of raw pleasure beats down on the shores of your mind and body. Wesker holds you through it, eyes focused on the rise and fall of your chest, the way you quiver and pulse around his cock clouds his mind with the same intense need that got you to this very moment.

He’s not done. Not even close. The feeling of your walls milking him drives him further into a madness he knows, deep down, he’s never going to escape.

And why would he ever want to?

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker fanfiction #albert wesker x you #wesker x reader #wesker x you #resident evil #dead by daylight #dbd #albert wesker smut #wesker smut

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redrosydiaz · 10 days ago

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its the evening after the funeral. they're back at 4995 south bedford street. the house is quiet, the lights kept dim. they haven't done much talking.

buck is in the kitchen, trying to keep himself busy. he's at the sink, scrubbing the dishes he used to make the crumpets earlier. he's not wearing his gloves. he's still wearing his dress uniform.

eddie walks into the kitchen, still in his own suit. they haven't even been back for twenty minutes. it's been a long, long day, though. an emotional day. his head is... kind of everywhere. he's still drowning in the grief.

he sees buck at the sink, working himself to the bone, and he goes, "buck, stop."

buck doesnt stop. just mumbles back, "i'm fine." — mistaking it for concern.

and it is. concern. eddie is concerned. but — in this moment — it's a plea. for comfort. for buck. he needs buck.

so he says it again. "buck. stop."

and this time, buck does. he turns to eddie, finds him standing close, closer than he was before. and there are tears shimmering in his eyes, his lip wobbling. and buck realizes oh. eddie needs him. so he drops the dishes, wipes his hands on his suit, and he reaches for eddie, immediately. gets his hands on him, gentle and kind, and pulls him into a hug.

and eddie clings to it. to buck. buries his face into buck's neck and he lets that grief overwhelm him. where it's safe to do so. it's mostly silent, just muffled sniffles and the occasional quiet whimper eddie can't help.

eventually eddie's cries die down. but he doesn't pull back from bucks embrace. instead, he presses his mouth to buck's collar. it's barely what anyone would call a kiss at first — until suddenly it is.

eddie kisses buck's neck, purposefully now, dragging his lips upwards, and eddie's a little out of his mind with his grief, but he's also not, and his whole life feels like it's in ruins anyways, so what's one more building to come crashing down right? so he kisses buck. trails those kisses up, over his jaw until theyre pressing to the corner of his lips. soft, a little hesitant — but then firmer, more sure when they find the full of bucks mouth.

eddie kisses him, and buck lets him. buck kisses him back.

and then hands are reaching for ties and tugging shirts from pants and fingers are closing around zippers and they're stumbling through the hallway, blindly, not caring for the corners they clip or the furniture they knock into. and clothes are being shed. and they're falling into the bed. buck's bed in eddie's room — no, buck's bed in buck's room, now. but. but it's eddie's, for tonight too. but they're falling into that bed — eddie's pushing buck down into it, really. and hes climbing atop buck, and they're still kissing, wet and salty, and their hands are all over each other, their touches hot and heavy but still gentle, still grounding in a way. and its eddie guiding buck's hand between his legs, it's eddie urging buck to open him up, it's eddie finally pulling buck out of his briefs, and it's eddie sinking down onto his cock to ride him.

and its so intimate, is the thing. like, buck is sitting up and eddies in his lap so they're practically chest to chest and bucks got his arms wrapped around eddies middle and eddies got his looped back around bucks neck, fingers buried into his hair and their foreheads are pressed together, they're kissing throughout except it's not even really a real kiss, it's more like them just passing their breaths between each other's mouths, labored from more than just their exertion. and they've both got tears down their faces and when it finally crests, they're clinging to each other so hard and neither one of them lets go, as they come down. they stay like that for so long it starts to get a little uncomfortable and it's only then that they finally break apart, that buck finally slips out. but eddie doesn't let him go far. or maybe buck doesnt let eddie go far. no one is quite sure. but. they end up spooning, buck holding onto eddie from behind. and they fall asleep like that. still not saying anything.

eddie wakes up first. he wakes up first and he's still in bucks arms and his stomach twists. not because it's buck but— because it's buck. because it's buck and bucks the most stable thing in his life right now, except maybe not anymore. after this. because how do you come back from this? how do you come back from something that changes everything? eddie doesn't know. all he knows is that his grief is destructive. it always has been, and it always will be. and this — buck — is the one thing he never wanted to destroy. but — he has. he has now. he's sure he has.

so, he takes this one last look at buck. drinks him in. and he leaves.

[inspired by this post]

#buddie #911 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #glorious-spoon this ones for you 🫶#911 spoilers

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k4marina · 2 months ago

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— ix. The Dragon and the Wolf || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: finally, the day of the long awaited meeting is here. while everyone prepares for the face off, you're left the wonder if things will play out like they have before or not.

warning: cersei lannister, explicit language, mentions of gore and rape (nothing too graphic), game of thrones cannon themes and violence

all dialogue in italics is Valyrian

series masterlist || next part

word count 9.8k

game of thrones x fem!modern!reader

[gif found on Pinterest]

The sun had barely broken the horizon when I was woken up. Today was the day we were meeting Cersei and presenting her with the dead. For the last few days there’d been a heavy weight on the castle as everyone got ready, deep in their own thoughts about what would happen, the good, the bad, and the worst.

It was an almost unspoken rule to even talk about what Cersei’s reaction would be. Would she agree or was this a trap and she’d been planning to kill us all right there? The tension was almost palpable.

Surprisingly, my bath was lavishly prepared by the maids. I almost told them to go empty the bathwater out and fill it with regular water, but instead I was chastised and ushered into the hot water with essential oils and rose petals mixed in.

When the fuck did we have lavender oil and rose petals?

“You’re going to go meet the would-be queen, you have to put her in her place so you must look your best,” one of the maids spoke as she dunked the water over my head. The other two maids eagerly nodded, the both of them adding in their own remarks.

“Everything must be perfect. You cannot appear to be losing sleep over her and her plotting.”

“But I’m not?” I gave a perplexed look at them.

“Exactly!”

After the bath they skillfully braided my hair, brading the top and letting the rest flow down my back in loose curls with two pieces of hair framing my face. Instead of my typical dark clothes I wore a long burgundy coat with a fitted bodice and leather detailing with a flared out waistline. My shoulders were covered in textured leather pauldrons and my forearms were covered in matching leather braces. The coat was secured at the waist with a belt and my hands were covered in leather gloves with the fingertips cut off. My dark wool pants were stuffed into knee high brown leather boots and a chain that slightly resembled Daenerys’ was pinned from one of my shoulders and across my chest with a small dragon pin sat high on my other shoulder.

I glanced at myself in the mirror, nodding in approval when there was a knock. The doors opened to Daenerys walking in and holding something long wrapped in a black cloth. The servants quietly left the two of us, closing the door shut behind them.

“How did you sleep?” She asks.

“Alright.” I replied. “Had some tea the night before. You?”

“I slept a few hours, but it appears that I should have done as you did.”

I walked over to the armor stand. “Are you ready to finally meet Cersei?” I grabbed the belt and my weapons and then turned back to her. “It’s been a long time coming after all.”

“I’m nervous.” She watches as I place my dagger in its holster by my thigh. “I can’t believe the fate of the world relies on Cersei Lannister.”

I nodded, reaching for my belt. “Crazy times we’re’a livin’ in.”

She doesn’t reply, placing her hand atop of mine when I go to hook my sword.

“Ever since you brought it back I’ve been thinking about what I should do with it.” Carefully, she unwraps the thing in her hands. “And I realize, after everything, I want you to have it.”

She pulls out Dark Sister and moves my hand away from my sword and to the Valyrian blade, securing my fingers around it.

“Daenerys.” My eyes flicked between her and the sword. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” She squeezed hand. “And I’m certain that the only person in this world that deserves to wield it is you.”

I took in a breath, shakily exhaling. I already took a gamble going to that cave in the first place, but this was something I’d never imagined. Slowly, I pulled the blade out of its scabbard, seeing my reflection in the Valyrian steel blade. She’s had the sword polished and the handle cleaned of any rust restoring it to its true glory.

This wasn’t Daenerys just giving me a sword, she was giving me a piece of her family's history, a relic that’s passed down from generation to generation. The amount of trust she had for me almost made me cry. I could feel the sword double in weight in my hands, a new wave of responsibility falling over me.

I let out a breath and tightened my grip. “I swear to you, that I will serve you until my dying breath.” I took a moment before continuing. “I swear to be your shield and keep your counsel, by the Old Gods and the New.”

Daenerys’ eyes shimmered as she said the next part, nearly choking over the words. “And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New.”

We both smiled, the both of us on the verge of crying. With a laugh we leaned in and embraced each other.

I pulled back, sheathing Dark Sister and attaching it to my belt. “Alright,” I said, clearing my throat. “Let’s go meet Cersei Lannister.”

––

The ship was ready to leave by the time I’d arrived at the island docks. The sails were set, the three headed red dragon standing out against the black background. Someone shouts aloud, a final call for everyone to board before they’d set sail.

I stepped onto the ship, wearing the same black cloak I’d taken to Eastwatch flowing behind me. The crew worked efficiently to set sail, raising the anchor and leaving the port swiftly. I stood at the front of the ship, looking out into the sea.

“You seem the most calm.” Jon says, coming to stand by me.

“Would it help if I was hysterical?”

He looks forward. “No. It’s good that you’re composed. Someone has to be.”

I slowly nodded. “How did your men take you pledging your allegiance to Daenerys?”

He looks down. “They were confused to say the least, but there’s not much they could do about it now.”

“I take it Ser Davos already told you how he saw it coming?”

He nods, smirking. “You could say.”

I turned around, spotting Tyrion and Missandei walking down to the lower deck towards us.

“Okay,” I grabbed everyone’s attention. “Let’s go over everything one last time.”

“Grey Worm and the Unsullied are already at King’s Landing and the Dothraki should be arriving shortly.” Missandei says.

“When we arrive we’ll be escorted by the City’s Watch to the Dragonpit. We will all arrive first then Daenerys with her dragons.” Tyrion adds. “I’ll get up and we’ll continue with our demonstration and hopefully, Cersei agrees to help us.”

“Right well, that sounds promising.” Ser Davos muttered.

“It’s better than nothing.” I said, leaning back on the railing of the ship's bow. “We may have agreed to a mutual armistice for now, but that doesn’t mean that Cersei won’t blow us up with Wildfire, like she did to the Great Sept of Baelor.”

Missandei glanced down at my waist and frowned. “Is that a new sword?”

“New? Not technically.” I brought my sword forwards. Tyrion's eyes raked over the sword before staring wide eyed at me.

Jon, also quickly realized what I had in my hand.

“Is that?” Jon askes.

“Dark Sister.” I finished. I nodded, holding it closer to him. “Her Grace gave it to me.”

Tyrion looked like his jaw was stuck open. “How? It was lost North of the Wall.”

“And now I’ve found it.”

Jon carefully eyes the sword, finally understanding. “This is what you were looking for beyond the wall?”

I nodded, “it was. Truth be told I wasn’t expecting it to be there, so imagine my surprise when I did find it.”

“Forgive me, what is Dark Sister?” Missandei asked.

Tyrion’s quick to reply. “It’s one of the two ancestral swords of House Targaryen.”

“It was first wielded by Queen Visenya Targaryen and then hundred of years later, Brynden Rivers, the last one to wield it, took it with him beyond the Wall and since then it’d been lost.” I said. “When Jon and his men were going to Eastwatch I took it as an opportunity to go look for this, as well.”

I sheathed the sword, my left hand coming to rest on it naturally. “We’ve got one of the two in our possession now.”

“You think you can get the other one?” Ser Davos asks.

“Where is it?” Jon asks aloud.

“If I recall correctly, Aegor RIvers took the sword with him when he went to live in exile in Essos; however, nothing is known about it after that.” Varys replied.

“Forget about it.” I waved my hand, dismissively. “We have other things to worry about, like a certain Lannister queen.”

––

The long hours had dragged on but we were finally there. In the distance, we could see Aegon’s hill and the Red Keep. Next to the castle’s harbor were all the remaining ships of Euron Greyjoy, who was still rotting away in Dragonstone’s cells. Tyrion, Theon, and Varys stood on deck, looking off into the distance at the castle. Jon, Jorah, Missandei, and I stood on the foredeck, also taking in the sight in front of us.

“How many people live here?” Jon asks Tyrion.

“A million, give or take.” He replied.

“That’s more people than the entire North crammed into that. Why would anyone want to live that way.”

“There’s more work in the city,” Tyrion says. He turned to Jon. “And their brothels are far superior.”

I shook my head. “I forget you used to be a connoisseur of brothels.”

Once we were docked and unloaded we were led through King’s Landing by carriage. I pulled my hood over my head, concealing myself. The less attention I attracted, the better our plan would go.

The carriage halted and one of the City’s Watch’s men opened the door. Everyone stepped out, glancing up at the remains of the Dragonpit.

“Follow this path,” a Gold Cloak ordered.

We walked ahead of the Dothraki guards we’d brought along. Jon, Tyrion, Jorah, Missandei, and Davos walked ahead while Varys, Theon, and Sandor and I walked further back. Sandor was in charge of making sure the crate was not touched by anyone other than him.

“Why did they build it?” Missandei asked aloud.

“Dragons don’t understand the difference between what is theirs and what isn’t.” Jorah explained, a slight sadness in his tone. “Land, livestock, children… Letting them roam free around a city was a problem.”

“I imagine it was a sad joke at the end.” Tyrion siad. “An entire area for a few sickly creatures smaller than dogs. But in the beginning when it was home to Balerion the Dread, it must have been the most dangerous place in the world.”

We approached a crossroad, spotting Lannister guards marching from the road that led to the Red Keep. They were led by Ser Bronn of the Blackwater and accompanied by Brienna of Tarth and Pocrick Payne.

“Welcome, my lords.” Bronn said. “Your friends arrived before you did.”

The Dothraki and their leader, Qhono, looked at them with suspicion while Brienne and Sandor exchanged looks, the former surprised that the latter wasn’t dead.

“I’ve been sent to escort you all to the meeting.” Bronn waves his hand and the Lannister guards part, clearing the path for us. Tyrion motions to Qhono to take the lead, the rest of the Dothraki moving forwards with the rest of us behind.

“A pleasant surprise in an unpleasant situation.” Tyrion says to Podrick.

“I never thought I’d see you again, My Lord.” Pordrick gives him a small smile.

“Supporting the enemy, no less.” Tyrion jests.

“Hard to blame you.”

“Cersei will anyway.”

They share a glance before Podrick sets his eyes forwards. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

“Come on!” Bronn looks back at the two. “You can suck his magic cock later.”

The Lannister guards behind us eyed the crate with curiosity, muttering amongst themselves before one of them had the courage to ask.

“What’s in there?”

Sandro glared back at him and let out a gruff, “fuck off.”

Ahead, Brienne slowed her pace to match Sandor’s, “I thought you were dead.”

“Not yet.” He said. “You came pretty close.”

“I was only trying to protect her.” She reasoned.

“You and me both.”

“She’s alive.” She turned to him. “Arya.”

Surprised, Sandro asks, “where?”

“Winterfell.”

“Who’s protecting her if you’re here?”

Brienne shook her head. “The only one that needs protecting is the one who gets in her way.”

“It won’t be me.” They both smiled like proud parents, falling into a comfortable silence between the two.

Tyrion and Bronn shared quips at one another for the rest of the walk uphill. The remains of the once beautiful arena came into sight. Lannister banners were hung up high, as a show of power. Sandor attends to the cart that was transporting the wight, bringing it down to the lower level of the pit.

“Anyone touches it, I’ll kill you first.”

The rest of the party entered the ruined pits taking their seats while they waited for Cersei to arrive. Like clockwork, she, the Mountain, Qyburn, and Jaime arrived. Cersei and Tyrion exchanged glances, Cersei glaring daggers directly at him. The “royal” party seats themselves on their respective sides, stoic. The Hound and the Mountain glare at each other from across the pit ready for a throwdown.

The Cleganes size each other up before the dais.

“Remember me?” Sandor glared at his brother's bloodshot and glazed eyes. “Yeah you do. You’re even fucking uglier than I am now. What did they do to you? Doesn’t matter. That’s not how it ends for you, brother. You know who’s coming for you. You’ve always known.”

With a final glare, Sandor walks away, the Mountain watches him go before taking his place behind Cersei.

“Where is she?” Cersei asks Tyrion, who’s eyes had been on his fiddling hands.

“She’ll be here soon.”

“She didn’t travel with you?” She nearly scoffs.

“No.” Tyrion replied.

In the distance footsteps could be heard, Cersei raising her head to see who it was. I walked up the stairs to the Dragonpit, my clock long left behind. I held her hostile gaze as I spoke.

“Her Grace will be here shortly.”

She masks her confusion well as I take a seat next to Daenerys’ empty seat. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs, my eyes staring running across the Lannister banners hung up on the ruined walls that were hung up just for the summit.

I had to give it to Cersei, she was good at emotional warfare. Holding the summit at the ruined Dragonpit was a way for her to remind Daenerys of her family and their dragon’s fate in a subtle way. This is what happened to your family, and I’ll make sure that the same happens to you, is what Cersei was trying to say.

Everyone waits, Cersei growing more agitated by the minute. She folded her hands on her lap, gripping them tightly. Then, just as she was about to speak, dragons screech. Cersei finches while Jaime and Bronn rush to stand up and crane their necks to watch the dragons flying overhead. Viserion and Rhaegal circled around the Dragonpit. Drogon lets out a deep roar as he flys down, powerfully landing on the collapsed walls of the pit and shaking the ground. Jon and Davos look on as Drogon takes in a deep breath and roars loudly, nearly shaking the ground. He roars again, directly at Cersei, lowering his head to reveal Daenerys on his back.

“Beautiful aren’t they?” I said to Cersei, keeping my eyes on the dragons. Drogon climbs down and Daenerys begins to dismount. I turned to meet Cersei’s eyes. “They’re so big that it’s hard to forget that they’re only six years old.”

All of us, except for Cersei and her party, raise as Daenerys walks up the dais as Drogon flies away. I cleared my throat, preparing to take another jab at Cersei.

“We are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains.”

The two queens eye one another as Danerys takes a seat between Tyrion and I. The rest of us sit down after her, the meeting finally beginning. Missandei gives me an amused look, happy that I’d added more salt to Cersei’s wound.

“We’ve been here for some time.” Cersei says, angry.

“My apologies,” Daenerys replied, lacking any sympathy and refusing to elaborate. Daenerys looks to Tyrion who stands up in response.

“We are all facing unique circumstances.” He steps to the middle of the dais. “We are a group of people who do not like one another. We have suffered at each other’s hands.” He holds Cersei’s gaze. “We have lost people who we love at each other’s hands. If all we wanted was more of the same, there would be no need for this gathering. We are entirely capable of waging war against each other without meeting face-to-face.”

“So instead, we should settle our differences and live together in harmony for the rest of our days?” Sarcasm and venom drips off of Cersei’s words.

“We all know that will never happen.” Tyrion folds his hands in front of him.

“Then why are we here?”

Jon stands and walks forwards to make his case, Tyrion standing off to the side. “This isn’t about living in harmony. It’s just about living. The same thing is coming for all of us. A general you can’t negotiate with an army that doesn’t leave corpses behind on the battlefield. Lord Tyrion tells me a million people live in this city. They’re about to become a million more soldiers in the Army of the Dead.”

“I imagine for more of them it would be an improvement.” Cersei says, poking fun at the poverty in King’s Landing.

“This is serious. I won’t be here if it weren’t” Jon pressed.

“I don’t think it’s serious at all. I think it’s another bad joke.” She turns to Daenerys. “If my brother Jaime has informed me correctly, you’re asking me for a truce.”

“Yes. That’s all.” Daenerys replies.

“That’s all?” She almost laughs. “Pull back my armies and stand down while you go on your monster hunt. Or while you solidify and expand your position. Hard for me to know which it is with my armies pulled back until you return and march on my capital with four times the men.”

“Your capital will be safe until the Northern threat is dealt with. You have my word.”

“The word of a would-be usurper.” Cerseir grits her teeth,

“Like your husband?” I jabbed. “Or do you mean yourself?”

Quickly, Tyrion continued to negotiate. “There is no conversation that will erase the past fifty years.” He looks directly at Cersei and Jaime. “We have something to show you.”

The Hound walks up the steps from the lower lever of the pit, carrying the crate on his back, secured by ropes. He brings it to the middle of the summit, both Jon and Tyrion standing far off to the side. Sandor staggers to his knees, dropping the crate down. He removed the chains and pins that secured the crate one by one, throwing them haphazardly to the side. He pries off the lid, fumbling as he gets nervous of what was in it, before fully removing it and throwing it to the side. He takes several steps back, eyes not once wavering away and his hand grips the hilt of his sword.

Everyone watches the crate, but when nothing happens he kicks the crate forwards to reveal the wight, who immediately charges forwards to Cersei, screeching loudly. Cersei recoils, leaning back in her chair and frozen in fear as it got only an arm's length away from her. It goes to reach out for her but it’s roughly jerked back and thrown onto the floor. The Hound holds the chain attached to the wight's collar while the other end is attached to the bottom of the crate.

The wight then sets his eyes on the Hound, now charging at him. Sandor draws his sword and cuts the wight in half right through the waist, but it does nothing as its legs keep kicking. I glance at Cersei who’s had a mix of confusion, disgust, and fear written on her face. She was seeing something that everyone thought was impossible. The wight’s toros crawls towards the Hound, still screeching terribly. The Hound brings his sword up and slices through the wight’s rotted hand as it reaches for him.

Everyone watches in horror except for Qyburn who wordlessly steps forwards to pick up the still moving hand and forearm, examining it with pure fascination.

Jon, grabs an until torch and Ser Davos lights with a flint. Jon takes the hand from Qyburn. “We can destroy them by burning them.” He moves the torch to the hand, igniting it. The other halves of the wight squirm and let out a high pitch scream. Jon drops the hand as it burns and hands the torch back to Ser Davos.

He draws a dragonglass dagger from his side and grabs the wight's other hand holding up its torso. “And we can destroy them with dragonglass.” He drives the dagger into the wight's heart. It lets out a screech, scrambling to get away before falling still, lifeless.

“If we don’t win this fight, then that,” he points at the dead wight, “is the fate of every person in the world.”

He steps closer to Cersei. “There is only one war that matters: the Great War. And it is here.”

Cersei, for once, finds herself at a loss for words.

“We were ambushed by them,” I said to her. “When we traveled North of Eastwatch. They were everywhere, some of us thought that we were about to join the Night King’s army.”

“How many?” Jaime asks.

“Nearly two hundred-thousand, and growing by the minute.”

His face falls, the reality of the situation now dawning on them. Everyone watched on bated breath for Cersei to finally speak.

She keeps her hands folded, eyes on her lap. “If those things come for us, there will be no kingdoms to rule. Everything we’ve suffered will have been for nothing. Everything we’ve lost would be for nothing.” She raises her head to Daenerys. “The Crown accepts your truce. Until the dead are defeated, they are the true enemy.”

Relief floods everyone, grateful that she’d seen the truth. I eyed her suspiciously, careful to not get too optimistic.

She turned to Jon. “In return, the King in the North will extend this truce. He will remain in the North where he belongs, he will not take up arms against the Lannisters. He will not choose a side.”

“Just the King in the North? Not me?” Daenerys says.

Cersei gives her a bitter smile. “I would never ask it of you. You would never agree to it, and if you did I would trust you even less than I do now.” She turns back to Jon. “I only ask it of Ned Stark's son. I know Ned Stark's son will be true to his word.”

Cersei watched him, expecting him to agree while the rest of us prayed he would lie and not say a word about his allegiance to Daenerys.

“I am true to my word, or I try to be.” He takes a moment to find his words. “That is what I cannot give you what you ask. I cannot serve two queens. And I have already pledged myself to Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen.”

Daenerys sucks in a breath, clenching her jaw and Cersei abruptly stands.

“Then there is nothing left to discuss. The dead will come for the North fist. Enjoy dealing with them. We will deal with whatever is left of you.” She walks away from the gathering, her Queensgaurd swifty following her. Bewildered, Jaime scrambles after her but is stopped by Brienne.

“Ser Jaime,” she calls.

“It’s been good to see you. I imagine the next time will be across a battlefield.” Jaime quickly moves, but Brienne goes to stand in his way.

“We both saw what just happened. We both saw… that thing.”

“Yes, I’m not looking forward to seeing more of them. But I’m loyal to the Queen, and you’re loyal to Sansa and her dolt brother so-”

“Fuck loyalty,” she hits his shoulder. Jaime stops in his tracks at her words.

“Fuck loyalty?” He echos.

“This is beyond houses and honor and oaths.” She pressed him further. “Talk to the Queen.”

Jaime looks over Briennes' shoulder to see Cersei watching him stand there with Breinne, a twinge of jealousy in her eyes.

“And tell her what?” He doesn’t give her time to reply, rushing back to Cersei’s side, leaving the Dragonpit.

Ser Davos, staring at Jon, shakes his head. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”

“I’m grateful for your loyalty,” Daenerys stands in front of Jon. “But we’ve risked far too much for all of this to mean nothing.”

“I’m pleased you bend the knee, but have you ever considered learning how to lie? Every now and then, just a little?” Tyrion sighed.

“I’m not going to swear an oath I can’t uphold. Talk about my father if you want, tell me that’s the attitude that got him killed. But when enough people make false promises, words stop meaning anything. Then there are no more answers, only better and better lies. And lies won’t help us in this fight.”

“That is indeed a problem. The more immediate problem is that we’re fucked.” Tyrion runs a hand down his beard.

“Any idea as to how we might change that state of affairs?” Davos asks.

“Only one,” Tyrion says. “Everyone stays here and I go talk to my sister.”

Daenerys shakes her head, hating the idea. “I didn’t come all this way to have my Hand murdered.”

“I don’t want Cersei to murder me either. I could have just stayed in my cell and saved a great deal of trouble.” Tyrion replied.

“I did this, I should go.” Jon suggests.

“She’ll definitely murder you.” Tyrion deadpanned.

“I’ll go with him,” I stood from my chair, stretching out my back. Daenerys shoots me a glare, but I stop her from saything anything. “I’ll be there if she gets a little too trigger happy and stop it.”

“You can’t. Neither of you can.” She argued. I grabbed her hand, leaning in so that only she could hear me. “Remember when I said that Jaime would be an asset?” She nods. “I think now might be the time.”

“Besides,” I pulled away, going to stand my Tyrion. “If she even touches a hair on either of us you can burn down the Red Keep with her in it.”

“Shall we?” I look towards Tyrion. He nods, bowing to Daenerys and then the two of us were on our way.

––

A group of Lannister guards stood outside the Dragonpit. Two Unsullied guards, who were sent by Dany, stood behind us. They glanced over to us as we stepped closer to them.

Tyrion cleared his throat. “I need to speak with my sister.”

The guards shared a few glances, but ultimately allowed it. They lead us down the hill silently, only sparingly glancing back to us. We walked along the Street of Flower to the Red Keep, the bustling city street rushing past us. Street vendors called out to potential customers, the merchant vendors flaunted their goods, and children ran up and down the street, playing with one another.

“Not that I mind, My Lady, but you’ve come along to do more than make sure Cersie doesn’t put my head on a spike.” Tyrion glances towards me.

“You are correct, My Lord.”

“Can I ask what your purpose is?”

“To talk to your brother and knock some sense into his big head.”

“Ah, well, do have fun with that. It’s not as if I haven’t tried to do the same for my entire life.” He jests. He thinks back to the many times he’s had to sit down with his dear brother and talk him out of Cersei’s grasp, only for him to talk in circles and hit a brick wall, but something deep down told him that perhaps I might be the one to finally get him to listen.

The city streets of the Capital were far different than what I could have imagined. It was off putting, truth be told. I’d spent a good chunk of my life living in King’s Landing in the modern world, surrounded by cars, buses, skyscrapers, and highrises. Seeing how the city used to be hundreds of years ago was slightly dystopian. Everything seemed so familiar, yet so different, it was both off putting and comforting.

We were led up into the castle through a side entrance, the Kingsgaurd not warning to grab any attention from the public anymore than they already had. We were led into an underground portion of the castle and down various different tunnels that Maegor the Cruel had built during his reign. It looked like over the many years as the tunnels were being rediscovered the guards had started to use them as a way of quickly moving around the castle.

Out in the distance I could hear something shift around, as if it were trying to stay hidden from us. I paused, and looked around, catching everyone’s attention. I waited for the sound again, glancing around the tunnel.

One of the Queensgaurd, annoyed, spoke up. “Keep walking, woman.”

The Unsullied stepped closer to me, but I motioned for them to stand down, not wanting a blood bath. Just as I was about to give up, the sound arose again this time louder. I walked over to the darkness, where the torch's light couldn’t reach and peered into the darkness.

Two feline eyes peeked out of the darkness, a low hissing sound coming from it. I crouched down, and held my hands open for the cat, having a sneaking suspicion I knew who it could be.

“It’s okay,” I said as softly as I could. “No one’s going to hurt you. Come out, please.”

The cat hissing grew louder and louder, but the cat still cautiously stepped out of the shadows. It was a black tomcat with one ear. If you looked carefully, one ear was chewed and the other torn off.

“It’s okay, honey, I’ll keep you safe. It’s okay to come out, Balerion.”

The cat's hissing stopped, as if it had been pulled out of a trance. A look of familiarity glossed over the feline's eyes and its hostility dampened. After all these years he was addressed as “you” or “it” or “bastard” or anything else, he was finally addressed by his actual name.

Balerion.

I reached out slowly and scooped the cat up in my hands, cradling it near my chest. Apprehensively, he turned itself closer to me, still worried that I might be a threat. I stood up and turned back to the men. One of the Queensgaurd shook his head and spat out a misogynistic comment and then started walking again.

“I never took you as a cat person.” Tyrion said.

“I like all kinds of animals, but this one,” I glanced down at the black cat, “this one's special.”

We finally emerged onto the Middle Bailey out by the armory and were led up the winding Serpentine Steps and into Maegor's Holdfast where the two Unsullied were told to stand outside. I handed off the cat to one of the men, ordering him to protect the cat with his life. The Mountain waited for us by the steps and wordlessly led us up the staircase to wherever Cersei was or possibly our death.

He led the two of us down a corridor of the Keep towards Cersei’s chamber. Oddly enough, the place hadn’t changed that much in my time. A portion of the Keep had been turned into a part of the University of King’s Landing, which I attended, and the rest was a museum.

Tyrion looked up at the Mountain who towered over the two of us, and no doubt could kill either one of us. We turned to a corridor and at the end of it was Jaime, waiting for us, and the doors to Cersei’s chambers closed.

“You brought her,” Jaime's points out, eyeing me.

I raised my hands up, showing I meant no harm to him. “Don’t worry, nothing up my sleeve. Just here as a delegate.”

“You spoke with her.” Tyrion states.

“At her.” He corrected. “Until she kicked me out. She thinks I was an idiot to trust you. A lot of people seem to think that, actually.”

“I’m about to step into a room with the most murderous woman in the world, who’s already tried to kill me. Twice. That I know of. Who’s an idiot?”

Jaime almost smiles, “I suppose we should say goodbye, one idiot to another.”

Tyrion nods and the Mountain opens the door. With a deep breath, Tyrion steps into the room to go speak with his sister with the Mountain following closely behind, closing the door behind him leaving Jaime and I alone.

We stood in silence, the two of us glancing at each other when the other wasn’t looking.

“I was there,” I began, leaning against the wall.

Jaime frowns not knowing what I meant.

“At Highgarden.”

“On the other dragon?” He recounts.

I nodded. “Yes and when you left Olenna’s room.” I said, catching him off guard. “I entered right after you’d left.”

He suspiciously narrows his eyes towards me. “What are you trying to get at?”

“Nothing, just wanted to give me condolences for the death of your child, well, all of them, really. Sweet Myrcella and Tommen, and I guess Joffrey too. No parent should ever have to outlive their children.”

Jaime hardens his jaw, his throat’s apple bobs up as he swallows down.

“But, I can’t help but wonder why you’re still with her. I mean, in some way she’s at fault for your kids' deaths, and you're still with her.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m afraid I do. Joffrey, he was a spoiled cunt, knew how to dress, but Gods still a cunt. He even tortured and murdered those prostitutes in his chambers just for sport. If she’d raised him right maybe he would have turned out better. And then Myrcella, Gods, poor her. Living her best life in Dorne only for her to be killed just so it would hurt Cersei. She died in your arms, right? You’d finally had that one father-daughter moment you’d been deprived of just for her to die in your arms. And Tommen, I mean what kind of mother is she? Rather than mourning the loss of her baby boy, like you were, she says that he betrayed her?” I shake my head. “I don’t get how you don’t blame her for their deaths, I know I would.”

“How do you know all this?” He rasps out.

Ignoring him, I continued. “I mean, I understand you fell in love with her when you were young. But when are you going to wake up and realize that she’s not the same Cersei anymore?”

“You’re wrong,” He shook his head.

“No I’m not. Deep down, you know I’m right. What kind of “Queen” blows up the Great Sept of Baelor with hundreds of people in it? What kind of Queen allows her people to starve while she eats and drinks all day long? What kind of Queen puts her own ego above the good of mankind when faced with the Army of the Dead? A woman that doesn’t deserve to be a Queen.”

“And you think Daenerys is better?” He tried to defend Cersei. “She’s a foreigner-”

“She was born on Dragonstone and forced to live in exile or die. Her family has ruled Westeros for nearly three hundred years, and before that they lived on a little island in Blackwater Bay.” I said, exasperated. “I understand the Mad King has left some scars, and I don’t blame you for doing what you did, but you need to stop thinking with your cock and with your brain instead. They wouldn’t have let her live if she was on Dragonstone. That thing in there, the Mountain? He stabbed a little girl, her niece, over fifty times, bashed her little brothers head in and then raped their mother with their blood on them before killing her as well, and your sister parades him around as her Queensgaurd.”

I took in a deep breath, composing myself. “Everything is laid out. You know which queen stands for what values and now it’s your turn to decide who you want to stand by.”

The doors quickly open, revealing Cersei and Tyrion behind her. She looks between Jaime and I, but says nothing. Wordlessly, she walks, prompting the rest of us to follow her. The Mountain followed close by as we followed her out of the Red Keep and back to the Dragonpit.

Jon and Daenerys were stood talking to each other when we arrived, shocked to see Cersei and her people back.

“My armies will not stand down.” She begins. “I will not pull them back to the capital.” She paused for a moment. “I will march them north, to fight alongside you in the Great War. The darkness is coming for us all. We will face it together.”

Shocked, everyone looks at Cersei and then Tyrion. “And when the Great War is over, perhaps you will remember I chose to help with no promises or assurances from any of you. I expect not.” She turns to Qyburn and gives the order, “call our banners. All of them.”

With that, she turns to leave. Before Jaime can leave, I grab his arm, leaning in. “When she goes against her word, send a raven to me.” I let go of his arm and step up the dais to stand next to Daenerys, watching the rest of them leave.

––

Daenerys and I sat around the table watching Balerion walking along the Painted Table, knocking over the figurines we’d placed on it. It entertained himself well, pouncing on the Lion on King’s Landing and leaving an array of scratches on it, while it playfully toyed with the Dragon on Dragonstone.

“I can’t believe it.” Dany said. Her eyes never left the cat’s taking in it’s every move.

I shake my head. “To think that that cat was the last living thing that saw your niece and nephew before their murder. I can’t imagine the horrors he’s had to see.”

Balerion walked over to us and leaned in. Dany smiled and reached out to pet him only for him to recoil and hiss. Dany frowned, and moved her hand back, surprised.

I laughed, reaching into my pocket. “I think he’s hungry.” I pulled a piece of dried fish out of a small bag and held it up to him. He sniffed the treat and immediately pounced on it. I handed another piece to Dany and encouraged her to feed him. Like before, Balerion sniffed the fish and then ate it happily.

The door’s opened and Jon and the rest of them entered, ready for the meeting. Startled, Balerion jumped down into my lap and hissed at the people who entered. I held him close, softly housing him as the others took their seat. I gave him another piece of dried fish as Daenerys started the meeting.

“We’ve got our armies,” she spoke. “But how do we get to Winterfell?”

“If we have the Dothraki ride hard on the Kingsroad, they’ll arrive at Winterfell within a fortnight.” Jon suggested.

Daenerys nods, “and the Unsullied?”

“We can sail with them to White Harbor and meet the Dothraki here on the Kings Road, then ride together to Winterfell.” Jon pointed to the long stretch of road that reached from the capital to Winterfell.

“Perhaps you should fly to Winterfell, Your Grace,” Jorah stepped forwards. “You have many enemies in the North. Thousands fell fighting your father. All it takes is one angry man with a crossbow– he’ll see your silver hair on the Kingsroad and know that one well placed bolt will make him a hero: The Man Who Killed the Conqueror.”

Danerys nods, agreeing with Jorah's sentiments, and goes to speak, but is stopped by Jon.

“It’s your decision, Your Grace. But if we’re going to be allies in this war, it’s important for the Northerners to see us as allies. If we sail to White Harbor together, I think it sends a better message.”

She weighed her options, seeing the logic and faults in both arguments. She turned to Jorah. “I’ve not come to conquer the North. I’m coming to save the North.” She turned to Jon, nodding, “we sail together.”

Jon bows his head, a slight smile on his lips and Jorah back’s down.

“When we arrive at White Harbor, I’ll have to make a detour.” I said.

“For what?” Daenerys asks.

“A young wolf’s crown,” I said cryptically. “I need to go to the Twins, but I will rejoin you all before we’ve stepped foot in Winterfell.”

Understanding, Daenerys nods. It’s not the first time I’d gone off alone, and every time I’ve come back I’ve brought back something that has benefited her.

“How is the dragon's food?” She asks Varys.

“We’ve got plenty of food, Your Grace. Lady Vellarys’ suggestion to appeal to the island villagers worked. Almost all of them have offered to give two or three of their livestocks.” He reported.

“Have a few sail boats with food ready for King’s Landing, we’ll be needing them soon.” I ordered.

“For the city?” Tyrion asks.

“Yes, they’re starving and we’re going to be their saving grace, well, Daenerys is.” I turned back to Varys. “And keep your eyes open for any ravens coming from the Red Keep.”

Jon narrowed his eyes. “You don’t think she’ll send her army north.”

I nodded, “I’m hoping she proves me wrong, given her current circumstance, but this is Cersei Lannister. She thinks she’s the smartest woman alive when in fact it’s the opposite.”

The meeting ended smoothly, everyone knowing what they had to do now. I was the last to leave, spotting Jon and Theon having their long awaited talk. I decided to walk around the castle, needing to clear my head and plan what to do next. When I walked towards the docks I saw Theon giving orders to his men and Ironborn ships in the docks.

“You’re leaving, I assume?” I asked.

“Yes, My Lady. My sister has taken the Iron Islands and I must return to her.” He replied.

“And your beloved uncle is going as well?”

He nodded. “Euron will be punished for his crimes however Yara sees fit.”

“And your conversation with Jon?”

“Good,” he nods, fiddling with his hands. “We’ve..” He tried to find the right words.

“Reconciled?”

“Yes. Reconciled.” He looks down and then back up to me. “I want to thank you for.. that night. I almost.. lost my sister, and if it weren’t for your words I wouldn’t have found it in myself to speak to Jon again.”

“There’s no need to thank me. I only said a few words, you were the one who found it in yourself to do those things.”

An Ironborn, already aboard the ship, makes the final call for the crew, raising the sails. I stuck my hand out to Theon. “Stay safe, Lord Greyjoy.”

Our fingers wrap around each other's forearms, giving a squeeze and light shake.

“You as well, Lady Vellarys.”

He walks up to the ramp of the ship, boarding and orders the vessel to start moving. I watched on as the Ironborn ships left the ports and further and further away.

––––

It was late in the evening, Daenerys and I were sat together in her room, having our supper. The food was spread all over the table, meat, fruit, stew, bread, and deserts. A pitcher of wine sat in between us. I poured myself a glass, swirling the white almost golden wine and took a swig.

“Arbor Gold,” I placed my glass down. “Do you know how much this would cost someone like me during my time? Thousands, hundreds maybe, millions. And here I am, sitting next to you, having dinner, and sipping on one of the finest wines in all of Westeros.”

“Now that we have control of Highgarden, you can drink all the Arbor Gold you what,” she smiled.

“Oh, believe me, I will.”

Daenerys sets her fork and knife down, folding her hands in front of her. “We’re going to be leaving for Winterfell soon.”

“We will,” I mirrored her stance.

“I want to know what I’ll be facing.”

I raised my brows and thought back, “well. They don’t like you. Partly because of your father, but also because you’re an outsider, as in not being from the North. The main person you should be wary of is Sansa Stark, Ned’s eldest daughter. She, her father and her younger sister, Arya, traveled to King’s Landing almost seven years ago. Ned was to be Robert’s hand after Jon Arryn was killed and Sansa was Joffery Lannister’s betrothed, but we both know how that went. Her sister and her were separated the day of Ned’s execution and while Arya bounced around Westeros and Essos, Sansa was imprisoned in the Red Keep at Cersei and Joffrey’s mercy. She was humiliated and belittled by both and then forced to marry Tyrion-”

“Tyrion?!” She almost shouts, surprised.

I nodded. “Both of them didn’t want it, but he was a good husband, never made her do anything and defended her even at his own expense. After Joffrey was poisoned she escaped by the help of Littleginger, Pyter Baelish who’s a mess and a half himself, and the two escape to the Vale where Sansa’s aunt, Lysa, former widow of Jon Arryn, was waiting for them. Baelish and Lysa married, which made him Lord of the Vale, which was his main goal, and then he later killed Lysa, who killed her husband under Littlefinger's orders.”

“What a charmer.”

“Tell me about it. But don’t worry about him, he’s dead or should be by now.”

“That’s comforting.”

“Anyways,” I waved my hand. “After securing the Vale, he sells Sansa off to Ramsey Bolton, who’s one of the families that betrayed the Starks at the Red Wedding. Ramsey was a sadistic fuck, born a bastard and couldn’t seem to move past it and made it his entire personality. She was once again a prisoner, except in her own home. It wasn’t until Theon, who was also imprisoned and tortured by Ramsey, helped her escape as well as Brienne of Tarth, then she was reunited with Jon at Castle Black. Jon, enraged, pleaded to almost every house in the North for support, and got almost none, waged a war on Ramsey – we called it the Battle of the Bastards. Jon nearly died, but the Knights of the Vale came just in time to help, and Jon was able to take back Winterfell.”

“I can’t imagine what horrors she’s seen.” Dany shook her head, her heart breaking for the poor girl.

“We need to empathize with her, Dany. Share your experiences, show her that you’re not so different after all. Two girls, no family, alone in an unknown place trying to find themselves back home. It’s going to be difficult, she’s a Stark and Starks are hard headed, you’ve seen how Jon is.”

She shakes her head, understanding my words and the importance of them. “You said her younger sister was in Essos?”

“Arya. She’s more like her aunt, Lyanna. Less “ladylike” and more “I want to be a knight and go on adventures,” her and Jon have a really close relationship. She went to Braavos to learn the way of the Faceless Men, once she did she came back to Westeros, laid waste to House Frey and then traveled to Winterfell.”

“And what is her attitude towards us?”

“Positive, from what I recall. She still has her Northern mentality, but she looks up to strong female figures; Nymeria of Ny Sar and Visenya Targaryen to name a few.”

“And the Crown you referred to, of the wolf? Was it Robb Starks?”

“It’s still in the Twins, hidden in some treasure chest. I think if we give it to them, especially Sansa, as a sign of good faith to the Starks and the North they won’t be so hostile.”

“And you think you can find it?”

“I have to try.” I shrugged. “If I find it then we start off on the right foot with the Starks, if we don’t then we’re going to have to work harder.”

Daenerys’ eye trails off to the right, a servant just entering with a worried expression.

“I apologize for the intruding, Your Grace, but a raven from King’s Landing has arrived for Lady Vellarys.”

–––

The tension in the room was palpable, everyone staring off, almost defeated. The message that we’d just received sat at the table in front of us.

You were right. She’s refused to send the army North. Cersei has betrayed us. – J.L

Jon stood at the end of the table, seething with anger, feeling foolish that he believed Cersei at all. Daenerys sat at the head of the table, hands folded in front of her. Tyrion looked defeated, a goblet of wine in one hand and the other ready to reach for the pitcher to pour more. Varys had an unreadable expression, standing there with his arms crossed and eyes on the floor.

“Cersei said she’d send her armies North,” Tyrion muttered under his breath.

Angrily, Daenerys turned to him. “You trusted her, Tyrion. You said that she would never betray family.”

“I believed her. I made a mistake– we all make mistakes.” His voice came out angry and defeated.

Daenerys angrily stood up from her chair, the wooden feet scraping against the stone floor. Fire burned in her violet eyes. “She fooled you. You knew she was dangerous, but you still listened to her, trusted her.”

Tyrion shook his head, not at her words, but at his own foolishness, blinded by family. “I didn’t want to believe that she was capable of this. That she’d risk the fate of the world for the throne.”

Before Daenerys could lay into him even more I placed my hand on her shoulder, reeling her back. She turned to me and the look on my face was all she needed to know.

“You knew.” She sneered. “You knew, and you still let us meet. How could you? You were supposed to help me–”

“Daenerys.”

“No! Tell me, did you–”

“Of course I fucking knew!” I scoffed. “Did I have some hope that she’s turn a new leaf and be a good fucking human being? Yes. But deep down, just like all of you, I knew that that bitch would only think about herself.”

“What else do you think I’ve been preparing for?” I took in a deep breath, feeling a migraine approaching. Calmly, I turned to Daenerys. “We still have enough men, we still have the Dornish army, the Reach, three fucking dragons – Daenerys we have enough. We are going to win, and when we do we’re going to take the throne and put that whore’s neck on a chopping block.”

I turned to Vayrs. “Put you little birds to work. Tell them what we know; The Army of the Dead march towards us and that Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow pleaded to Cersei Lannister to help defend the Realm, but she refused. Tell them that Daenerys is marching North to fight the dead with her army and dragons. Tell them to sing her praises. Tell them if anyone else wants to fight for all of humanity alongside the rightful Queen then to march North now. Send the ships filled with aid to King’s Landing, tell them it’s from their true Queen, that she can’t stand to see her people starving in the streets, that she thinks of them in her prayers while she’s off to fight against the Night King.”

Surprised at my outwards aggression, Varys stands there, shocked only snapping back to reality when Daenerys’ sharp eyes are on him He quickly bows his head, muttering a “as you wish, My Lady,” and scurried out of the room to do as he was commanded. I walked over to Daeneys, who was a bit more calm now than before, taking her hands in mine, reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, we will prevail. Don’t let this get to you. You have to think forwards and to the battles ahead. I swear to you, we will win.” She closed her eyes as we brought our foreheads together. “Rest for now, I’ll handle everything.”

Daenerys nodded. “Be sure to sleep, we have a long journey ahead of us.” She turns to leave, not sparing anyone a glance. Jon and Tyrion watch her go, wanting to say something but staying quiet at the end.

I walked to Jon, “go, comfort her. She needs you.” Without a word he dashes out the room and towards Daenerys’ chamber.

Exhausted, I take a seat at the table, closing my eyes. There's some shifting and metal clinking before Tyrion speaks.

“You’re a lot better at being the Hand than I am.” I open my eyes and catch him placing a fresh cup of win in front of me. I reached over, taking it.

“Trust me, I’m not.” I take a great swig, letting the Dornish Red run down my throat. “I wasn’t lying,” I played with the cup in my hand. “When I said that I believed her a little bit. I thought that after losing all of her children in horrific ways that she would join us to protect the one she’s pregnant with. But I guess not.”

“To be deceived by my sister,” Tyrion raises his glass as a toast.

I grimace, raising mine in agreement. “Let's never toast to this ever again.”

–––

Our day started off even before the sun had crossed the horizon. Begrudgingly, I got prepared for our long travel with the help of the servants. As the days went by, the weather got colder, and now with the Night King at our doorsteps, the days were going to get even worse.

Some servants hulled the last of my belongings down to the ships. I stood by the railing, looking down at the people working hard for our departure when Daenerys came to stand by my side.

“You were right,” She says. “Deep down I knew that she was lying, but like everyone else, I believed her. I was deceived.”

I turned to her, but spotted someone behind her. “Lord Varys.”

He bowed, addressing us both. “You were right to prepare, My Lady. My little birds tell me that the people are growing more hostile to Cersei and favoring Daenerys. It won’t be long until riots start to break out and they storm the Red Keep.”

“Do you think she will send her armies North now that the people have turned?” Daenerys asks me.

“No. That woman fears no one, not even the Gods. If she sends her armies North now it would mean swallowing her ego and giving up the throne, which is inevitable at this point.”

I glanced towards the oncoming sunrise. “By the time we’re finished with the Night King, the people of King’s Landing will open the city doors for us with welcoming arms.”

––––

Snow falls from the sky, but that doesn’t deter the Army of the Dead from marching forwards. Nothing does. The wights come out of the treeline by the dozens, all itching to feed off of a living creature. They all stand there, mindlessly looking up at the seven hundred foot tall wall made of ice and magic, the only thing standing in between them and the Seven Kingdoms.

Waves can be heard hitting the cliffside. The cold ocean wind carries all across Eastwatch. But that doesn’t do anything to them. The Army of the Dead relish in the bitter cold, they are the cold. They are the everlasting winter.

They part like the sea, letting the Night King and his entourage through. The snow crunched under the hooves of their undead horses. The Night King’s ice cold, glowing blue eyes took in the sight before him. Finally, after hundreds of years, after growing his army and his powers he was here ready to accomplish his task; utter annihilation of all mankind.

And the only thing standing in his way was a wall made of ice, holding the same magic that ran through his frozen vines made by the same beings that birthed him into this world.

He gets off his horse, leisurely walking to the ice wall. The White Walkers watch him bring his hand to the wall. He caresses it, taking in every second of this moment. Closing his eyes, he focuses his powers to a point under his hand, willing himself to break the wall.

The ground violently shakes, trees rattling and swaying side to side, and a faint crackling sound grows by the minute. The wind blows around them, threatening to rip out the trees from the earth, it howls and lets out the deafening whistle as the Night King uses more of his power. He digs his nails into the ice and the chucks of the wall start to fall from the sky. Bit by bit, the wall crumbled, hitting the ground with loud thuds and shattering on impact to more ice shards. The Night King uses more of his power and the protective magic in the ice finally breaks causing the walls foundation to crumble and give away, finally collapsing..

The wights let out a shriveling screech and charge through the fallen wall, eager to feast and lay waste to everything in sight. The Night King walks back to his horse, mounting him and making his way over the remains of Branden the Builder's greatest creation. There’s almost an excited expression on his ice cold face. He grips onto the horse's leash and he can still feel the remnants of his power at the tips of his icy fingers. So close. He’s so close to finally achieving his goal. If he could, he'd smile triumphantly.

Winter was coming.

@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @daenerys713 @ministark @laanswife @idohknow @jromanoff @bdudette @bitchyfestivalbouquet @glitteryobjecttaco @cantbecreative @lovelyteenagebeard @the0twst0shrimp0mc @sucker4seresin @marytargaryen @naneko31 @9tailedfoxfire @iilsenewman @ivyrose9194 @coffee-is-my-oxygen @mysterypotatoink @bitchycolletorvoid @nattysplatty @wifiatthetrainstation @nymeriiiia @llynx7 @pookynknowntranger @riley-625-bell @myathegoat @evilunicorns4minions @honeycola-umbra @nen-nyy

a/n: i'm back from my little vacation which means more chapters :))

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whoskimii · 10 months ago

Note

Could you Do a Kinda detailed makeout with Gojo! 🤠

yummy i love that :3

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > satoru x you. basically a heavy and steamy makeout with your manzz <33 think we all need that! he knows he's fine frfr. tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

satoru had never been an insecure guy. whether it's about his looks or even you, his girlfriend. hell, he even loves showing his pretty baby off. he's always been confident.

but the way that guy looked at you in public didn't sit right with him. that fucker seemed to have a ring on his finger and he looked much older than you. ew.

your boyfriend could swear he was eye-fucking you. if it wasn't for your boyfriend at your side, he was sure that he would've done much worse than just looking at your ass. satoru wasn't having any of it.

he brought you back home and you could sense that he was pissed. like, actually pissed. but not at you, obviously. it wasn't your fault if you were so, so pretty :( he was mad at that gross bastard. and he definitely needed something to calm down. turns out that something was you.

that's why you found yourself on your boyfriend's lap, arms around his neck as his tongue explored your mouth. your pants were off. your panties were the only thing covering your wet little folds from his greedy fingers.

you whimpered softly into the kiss as you felt his bulge pressing against your core. the friction between your panties and his sweatpants was delicious, to say the least. you felt like you could come from this alone.

your hips instantly reciprocated and you began grinding against him as your pretty manicured hands tugged at his disheveled white strands. "fuck, baby," he groaned against your lips. "lemme see..." his hand made its way towards your panties. soon enough, you felt the coldness of his fingertips circling your throbbing little clit.

"aw, damn... y'so fucking wet... i barely even touched you yet..." he murmured into your ear as his middle and ring fingers began teasing your dripping entrance. "'toru... don't tease..."

he chuckled against your lips before kissing your neck, occasionally leaving love bites all over your skin. "no ? why shouldn't i ? s'fun, watching my baby get all flustered just from a lil' teasing..." he mumbled. "just... please..." you whined. "aw, you sound so pretty, angel... s'just my fingers rubbing your pretty pussy... what's it gonna be when it's gonna be my cock, huh ?" he smirked lazily. his cocky expression made you want to fuck him senseless.

"shut up..." you mumbled as he pulled down his sweatpants just enough to free his boxers. his bulge was so pretty against his boxers that just the sight of it made you lick your lips. "oh ? what was that, mhm ? what about putting that pretty tongue to work ?" you tugged on his hair and he moaned.

"baby... don't make me get noisy... we already had complaints, last time..." you hummed. "don't care." he chuckled at your feisty answer and rolled you onto your back as he climbed on top of you. "what a naughty girl..." he whispered and went back to grinding his hips into yours. the pace was tortuously slow. your eyes rolled back as he hummed. "that's it, sweet girl... give it t'me..." he breathed. "give it t'me, love..."

you felt the familiar warm bubble in your lower tummy tightening dangerously. "'toru..." you gasped softly. "i know, baby, i know... m'right here... s'alright." he ground his hips against yours one last time and you came in your panties. "theeere you go... that's it, love... such a good fucking girl..."

as you finally came down from your high, your boyfriend kissed your flushed cheek. "think y'can do that around my cock, now ?"

you definitely can.

what a mannNN <33

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

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mochelisgf · 4 months ago

Text

❛ word count: 1636

❛ warnings — smut, fingering (m!receiving), making out, idk other stuff that you’d usually see in smut fics

❛ bottom!morgan x reader

❛ authors note — this is my first time witting smut and i hate it so….enjoy 😀 also we need more mo cheli fics 😩

We hadn’t done anything in a week — perhaps even longer, seeing as how both me and Morgan have been busy; her with basketball and finals; and me with finals and my job. But here she was — flirting with someone else, well she's talking to a fan which is fine but come on? The excessive touching, holding her arm, biting her lip?

The act made you cringe – jealousy boiling inside of you, that should be me — she's mine. Blind by your rage you hadn’t noticed that morgan had made her way towards you until you hear

“Hi baby, did you enjoy the game?” is the first thing she says, her eyes sparkling as her breath — shallow and breathy begins returning to its usual state.

“Yeah I did, you did good today.” was all you said in response, your annoyance seeping through your fake smile lying on your face.

Morgan chuckles slightly, grabbing on your arm – pulling you up from your seat. As you guys are walking morgan continues —

“Geno wants me for a conference today so you’ll have to stay a little late today, okay?” not even bothering to answer her you simply hum, ending the conversation there – morgan must know she’s fucked up cause she keeps sneaking glances at you as you walk her to the conference room.

Stopping at the entrance, Morgan lets go of your arm and leans to give you a kiss on the cheek “wish me luck!” she says before stepping away and walking towards Paige and Sarah who were doing the conference alongside her – and walking into the room.

Obviously Morgan wasn’t too worried about how you’d felt just before the conference, because she had spent the entire time giggling, biting and licking her lips at the younger female and male reporters in the room. Answering the questions with flirtatious word choices and using those beautiful brown eyes to her advantage – even making the reporters melt and hot. She knew what she was doing, teasing me, and this wasn’t the first time she’d done it.

Throughout the week I'd been busy, but that didn't stop her from making attempts towards me, in private and in public – and even going as far as trying to make me jealous with her teammates. She was a brat and I wasn’t going to pass up a chance to teach her a lesson.

As soon as she’d finished her interview and walked into my view I grabbed her arm, pulling her towards me as I walked in the direction of the nearest private bathroom. Getting to the bathroom I yanked the door open – pushing her inside before turning around to lock the door.

Her eyes find and follow mine as I turn around to face her – her gaze drops to my lips as she bites her lips, breathing ragged and uneven.

Moving in, I pull her in by the back of her neck, closing the distance between us. Our bodies merge together as we devour each other's lips. Pulling away – my mouth opens slightly

“You’ve been bad mo.” you say, morgan in response attempts to close the gap between us again – letting out huff when I hold her back, stopping her attempt.

“fuck im sorry baby I- I was just..I dont know, please” she pleaded trying to close the gap once again – my hand on her throat stopping her again, the whimper she let out dying on her throat

“You need to learn how to Behave.” you say, slowly leaning it, her breathing heavy – your nose brushing on her neck as you slowly start kissing at her neck, careful not to leave hickeys on her neck seeing as how you guys were still in public. Her breath shaky – panting as you slightly begin mouthing at her neck, your hands finding their way downwards as you untuck her jersey from her shorts – slipping your hands on the material.

You push forward – her back finding the door to the bathroom stall, as her low moans echo throughout the bathroom

“take it off,” you whisper into her ear, signaling to her jersey before backing up to give her the space to do so. She moves forward a bit and then frantically grabs the bottom of her shirt and takes off her shirt – her medium grey sports bra laying underneath “the bra too baby.” you say – breathe heavy as your low, airy voice bounces off the walls of the room – she drops her shirt on the floor before taking her sports bra too and pulling it off, her hair getting even more messy as it slides off her head.

She waits. Standing there as her knees slightly shake and her face flushes harsher. You use two fingers to signal her towards you — her following in response. One of your arms wrapping her waist as her other one settles on her neck, caressing the skin. Looking at her she’s disheveled – lost — already gone in such little time, just waiting for her next demand.

Leaning in again; she moves fast, her lips desperate to meet yours. As the kiss deepens, your hands shift — the one that was lying on her neck moving to her front. Your hand palming her tits — squeezing slightly causing Morgan to gasp into the kiss and tighten her grip on your shirt.

Pulling away – the hand that you have on her waist starts to drift lower, slipping into her shorts and past the band of her underwear — brushing against her, your hand palmed at her tits again.

“Fuck” Morgan says as she tilts her head back, her lips parted and eyes shut tight.

Your fingers begin to move lower, touching — teasing her folds in the process, watching as your finger begin to be covered in her slick.

“baby plea –– fuck!” she shouts, her mouth dropping open as one of your fingers sinks in. Morgan wraps her arms once again around your neck, pulling you even closer to her — the movement causing your fingers to go deeper.

Morgan begins to moan out louder as you slowly start to move your fingers, curling up slightly when you go deeper

“fuck baby don’t stop—” a whimper breaking through — her legs growing weaker.

You stop your movements, slowing slipping out of her

“wait no —” Morgan panics

“it’s okay, just turn around from me, face the mirror mo” you shush her, nodding in her direction

She turns around, facing the mirror. Her eyes meet yours and you both smile in sync,

“take your shorts off” you say, she begins pulling her shorts off but then you add onto your demand “underwear too”, still holding eye contact with the girl.

Morgan reaches her hands so that they can grip onto her shorts and underwear before sliding them down — leaving her fully bare — completely out in the open, allowing you easier access.

You wrap your arms around her again, starting at the top, groping and palming at her tits causing the girl to moan out, then you move lower and lower before you reach your target

Morgan gasps under her breathe as you bring your hands lower, finally touching her folds ( or should I say clit idk) again, her head begins to lean back on your shoulder but you stop her, bringing her head back up,

“Keep staring into the mirror baby, come on” you say — Morgan nodding in agreement, just hoping that you’d stop teasing her and get over with it

her body is shrinking — she’s overwhelmed by the pleasure she’s feeling, the feeling of your hand rubbing her clit, that feeling increasing by 100 when you finally sink into her again, she’s tight — pulling your hand into her and she bites her lips in an attempt to be quieter.

“please move, god please baby” she whines out, desperate for anything — as you begin to move, her moans begin to echo throughout.

You’re practically moaning in her ear, although you couldn’t feel it yourself, the feeling of her squeezing around you — pulling you in, was more than enough. Her back pressing against your front was more than enough, her moving back against your fingers — basically grinding against you.

The bathroom was quiet, no words were being said. All that can be heard was squelching, whimpers and heavy breathing, until —

“shit, i’m so close” Morgan’s voice breaks through the noise as she looks at you through the mirror

“yeah? you gonna come for me baby?” your face in her neck –– returning her gaze, quickening your place, your fingers pistoning in her.

she nods “yeah, I’m gonna come for you” you add a second finger — moving your thumb to her clit, making a circular movement.

“then do it. come for me morgan” you whisper in her ear, sending her over the edge — she lets out a strangled noise, her knees buckling, your arm around her waist being the only thing keeping her from falling.

Nobody talks for the first few seconds, the only noise being the sound of you pulling out from her and both of your ragged breaths.

“Jesus christ, maybe i need to flirt with other people more often” is the first thing morgan says, forcing a laugh from you

“Absolutely not, don’t ever do that again.” you reply– smirking, still meeting her gaze in the now foggy mirror. For awhile you guys completely forget where y’all are, heads turned to kiss each other. That’s until morgan breaks away and says

“shit, how long have we been here? fuckk we need to leave, i'm gonna be in so much shit next practice” she panics, pushing you away to pick up her clothes that've been discarded on the floor earlier.

@kate20martin

#wnba x reader #morgan cheli x reader #morgan cheli smut #pazzi smut #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #wbb x reader #wbb

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tiki-was-here · 3 months ago

Text

Billy Butcher x Male Reader [Part Two]

Word count: 1.4k

Somebody sedate me ofmggg. Decided i don't want to hear billy talk rn so i simply gagged him. Lowkey wanna throw rocks at his house and make him cry (our relationship is complicated rn).

Idk how this turned into a male reader when it was supposed to be gender neutral. Oh well. Also he drools a lot in this idk why I did that.

[Part One]

“You done?” he asked finally, his voice quieter now but no less tense.

“No,” you said, stepping right up to him, your nose inches from his. “You don’t get to keep doing this. You don’t get to push me away just because you’re scared. You want to keep this thing between us? Then you’d better apologize . Because I’m not sticking around to be your punching bag.”

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The air between you crackled with tension, the silence heavy and suffocating.

Then, finally, he spoke

“Make me.”

You didn’t think, you just acted. You grabbed him by the collar, yanking him towards you, and kissed him hard. It was angry and messy, a collision of teeth and tongue that left you both breathless.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as he kissed you back with equal intensity. It was like all the anger and frustration had boiled over, spilling out into something raw and electric.

Your hand found its way to his throat, squeezing down hard enough that you knew there would be an ugly mark in a few hours. Your knuckles turned white with effort but that didn’t stop Butcher from leaning into your grip. Your kiss long forgotten as he chose to pant harshly in your neck. What a slut. Still, you wouldn’t get distracted so easily.

“Open up” you muttered, before unceremoniously shoving two of your fingers down his throat. You didn’t even have to tell him what to do, the brit immediately sucking like his life depended on it. Eyes rolling back and drool already rolling down his chin. It was always messy when you were with him but you weren’t complaining.

While he was making himself useful sucking on your fingers like they were the best cock he’d had in years, your other hand snaked its way down his front.

A wet patch had already started to form and he was unbelievably hard. You palmed him lightly, eliciting a muffled moan from his lips before eventually making your way to his hole.

Your fingers tentatively prodded his entrance, and to your surprise, he was wet.

“Such a slut for me aren’t you Billy” you cooed at him, thrusting your fingers in and out of his mouth softly. His entire shirt was now soaked with spit. “You couldn’t wait for me to come take care of you?”

The only response you got was a muffled “fuck you”

You chuckled “ I guess it’s only fair for me to have my turn now isn’t it?”

You grabbed his hair roughly and threw him to the ground, not giving a chance to breathe before pouncing on him, pin his thighs beneath yours, effectively trapping him against the ground.Butcher struggled against you, teeth bared in faux disgust.

You knew if he really wanted him off you he could easily do so, no one who's really struggling would arch up into your shallow grinds with such poorly hidden desperation. He wouldn't be propping himself up on his knees to better help you pull his boxers over the swell of his ass.

Shoving them in his mouth to keep him quiet, you decided to begin what you came here to do.

Because you felt like being a little bit nice today since Billy was being surprisingly quiet (and because you didn't want to hear him complaining about it the next day) you decided to finally remove your fingers from his mouth and got to work prepping him.

Your fingers entered him with little resistance. Starting with two you slowly worked your way deeper, purposely avoiding that bundle of nerves you knew Butcher was eager for you to find.

Just a few seconds of teasing got you frustrated whines from the man beneath you, squirming in his place underneath you.

He was so cute like this, face flushed red and tears gathering on his eyelids.

“You know Billy, sometimes I wonder how the rest of the team would look at you if they knew how much a whore their ‘beloved leader’ is”. You pulled your fingers out of him, instead replacing it with the tip of your cock, which was now red and weeping from the lack of attention.

“Could you imagine it?” you teased pushing into him slowly,”Standing in front of Homelander knowing that I had my dick inside you just moments earlier?” You felt him clench at that…what a whore.Your thrusts got faster, deeper, as all the frustration you've felt bubbling up inside you came (lol) up to the surface.

“You’d like that wouldn't you? Fighting him with my cum still dripping out of you?”. He frantically shook his head no as he ‘screamed’ what were surely muffled expletives from behind his makeshift gag. But you didn't need to listen to his answer to feel the way he clenched pathetically around your cock. You stored that info away for later, teasing him about Homelander was fun, but today was about him taking what you gave him, and you getting what you needed.

Your thrust reached a brutal pace, muffled moans and whines bouncing off of the thin walls of the motel. You could feel the pleasure building up in the pit of your stomach, and you knew that you were close. Reaching your hand under Billy’s hips, you stroked his cock at an unrelenting pace, desperate to make him come before you.

You wanted to record this moment, tears flowing freely down his face, the wet smack of your balls hitting his ass the only thing coming close to being louder than his wails. It was a wonder as to how he still had his boxers in his mouth, the poor material now darkened with drool. Still, as Billy reached his peak, you silently thanked it as it was surely the only thing keeping you from being interrupted with a noise complaint.

The brunette seemed to be in his own world, his tough guy persona long gone as he shook silently beneath you, his softening cock trapped between the floor and his cum stained stomach. You followed close behind, soft grunts escaping your lips as you emptied your load into him, before promptly collapsing next to him, chests heaving in unison.

You knelt beside the tub, running your fingers through the warm water, testing the temperature.

Billy sat on the closed toilet lid, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with a tired sort of curiosity. His usual sharp, biting demeanor was dulled,

“You gonna sit there all night or actually get in?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

He huffed, shaking his head. “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, well, someone’s got to take care of you since you clearly won’t.”

He gave you a look but didn’t argue. With a sigh, he stood, peeling off his shirt and stepping into the bath. The water sloshed as he settled in, leaning back against the porcelain with a long exhale. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and for once, he looked peaceful.

You sat on the edge of the tub, trailing your fingers through the water. “You can’t keep doing this, Billy.”

His eyes cracked open. “Doing what?”

“Losing it like that,” you said, voice soft but firm. “Tearing people apart just because you’re angry. Lashing out at me when you don’t know what else to do with yourself.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away.

“You want me on your side?” you continued. “Then you have to trust me. And you have to keep yourself in check.”

A muscle in his cheek twitched. He looked like he wanted to argue, wanted to push back just for the sake of it. But instead, he let out a long breath, staring at the water. “Not exactly my strong suit, love.”

You dipped your hand in the bath, letting the warm water slip between your fingers. “I know. But I also know you’re not as heartless as you pretend to be.”

Billy scoffed, but there was no real bite to it. “That so?”

“Yeah,” you said simply. “Because if you were, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”

A beat of silence passed between you, thick with unspoken things. He swallowed, shifting slightly, like the conversation was making him physically uncomfortable. You could see it—he wanted to apologize, admit that he’d gone too far. But Billy Butcher wasn’t the kind of man who could just say sorry. It wasn’t in his nature.

Instead, he reached out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, a small, unspoken gesture of remorse.

You sighed, shaking your head with a soft smile. “That your way of saying you feel bad?”

“Maybe,” he muttered.

“Wow. Huge moment for you,” you teased. “Almost like an actual human emotion.”

He gave you a flat look but didn’t let go of your hand. “Don’t push your luck.”

You squeezed his fingers gently. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Billy grunted, leaning back again, eyes slipping shut. But he didn’t let go of your hand—not even when the water started to cool.

#𐌕𐌉𐌊𐌉 ᯓᡣ𐭩 #male reader #top male reader #billy butcher x male reader #x male reader #the boys x male reader #the boys #the boys x reader #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #bottom Billy butcher #.˚𖹭 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜 𖹭 ˚.

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arminzblackbimbo · 7 months ago

Text

the girl is mine

blackfem!reader x suicide squad joker

tw: mdni, kinda dark nothing too crazy, rough treatment, slow sex, missionary, choking, reader is kinda a crybaby, biting, hair pulling, nipple play, boob slapping ??, “doll” used as pet name, reader calls him "jay", bruising, blood mentioned, blood sucking, begging, dom joker, they are both kinda masochist, grinding, and bad spelling !!

"doll stop crying" he is holding your shaking form, your head in the crease of his neck. you can hear him gruff out in your ear, he gives you all of these gifts and presents and all he gets in return is tears. no thank you's or kisses.

all you wanted was to get another necklace to add to your jewelry collection, from when he does his nightly robberies he always brings you something back. something shiny that makes you swoon over him. you’ve always wore gold jewelry but just mere minutes earlier joker gave you a silver necklace, knowing you can't stand that color.

you have tears coming down your cheeks, hyperventilating as your face comes out of hiding in his neck to look at him. you can his silver teeth grinding because he is annoyed. " jay, i-i-i’m sorry but i just don’t want that necklace " you stammered out, not getting a chance to collect yourself before he grips the sides of your neck tightly making you a little light headed. you grip his wrist, tears coming down a little faster. your eyes getting glossy while he rolls his.

your chest heaves even with your air flow constricted you let heavy breaths out. watching you as you scratch at his hand at your throat. satisfied to see you gasp out. "be grateful doll, i could snap your neck since your being so rude" he loves how pretty you look when he holds you throat. it makes him harder in his pants. he finally lets you go when he sees your eyes slightly roll back. smiling watching you cough out trying to speak again.

when you speak again your still sniffing, but your voice is now a little raspy. "i just wanted some gold" all the things he does for you and you have the nerve to pout and cry. he is sick of it, the hand that was just at your throat going to grip your hair tightly, causing "ow's" to leave your lips when he uses your hair to move you from the living room to the bedroom

he just laughs while he drags you down the hallway, doing his classic clown laugh that scares you especially when he gets like this. " your just a spoiled thing, ain't you cupcake ?" pulling your hair harder when he shuts the door of your shared bedroom. your lips pouting when you can feel your head throb as he pulls you onto the bed, laying you down next to him

loving how your whine when he presses his fingers into your scalp “jay that hurts” he dismisses your pain.

covering your lips with his hand that has that smiling mouth on it. that he loves to tease and antagonize you with. “smile more doll” laughing more at you. playing with your feelings. moving his hand to start kiss your pouting lips roughly to stop your cries.

he loves to act like you annoy him when really he is happy with anything that you do. deep down he cares for you deeply and you both know that, its why you act like this. he finally lets your hair go as he lays you down flat on your back. still keeping his lips locked on you while he puts his weight heavily on top of you.

feeling your legs wrap around his waist and arms wrap around his neck tightly. the position making your body start to tingle your done crying, now your body feels hot. his length starts to throb as his tongue moves with yours and spit starts moving past your lips. he is messy with the kisses wanting them his way not slow like how you like them. "please jay" you gasp when your lips pull apart from each other.

"i shouldn't give you anything, always begging and crying" he grumbles against your lips, biting the skin to see you wince. his blue eyes burning into yours watching you intense biting harder into the soft skin of your lip to see the discomfort. he lets you go your lips swelling from the assault.

giving you one last kiss making it sloppy before he is pecking down your neck, where he begins to bite that already bruised skin from his rough hold, his teeth bruising you even more. even though it hurts so bad it feels so good. you’ve grown the love the feeling “jay, i need you please” your pulling him closer to you. holding him securely against you.

he grabs your face between his hand squeezing your checks tightly together “shut up” he mumbles out, coming to look you in the eyes, he can still see the tear marks that are etched into your face. he almost wants to roll his eyes how lovesick he really is, rolling his tongue along your face to collect your dried tears “all the whining im sick of it”

he has to pry your hands off him to help you take your shirt and pants off so he has all the access he needs to mark you up as much as he can. you can feel his silver hit your skin first before anything it makes you shiver with how cold the metal is. running your hands through his soft green hair to just touch him.

he starts his focus near your collar bone where he bites hard enough to make you draw blood, blood that he has to suction his lips around to collect. making you wince and gasp, looking down to the purple pains that are starting to spread across your skin. really when you plead and beg for him it makes him stiffen more in his pants, but he can’t let you know that.

your body wrapped around him again as you crave the attention of his body. he positions his mouth right by your ear “don’t play soft with me sweetheart, i know you like it rough” his voice raspy in your ear when he bites the shell of it while you hiss and whine. running his tongue in the ridges, lifting under you back to help take your bra off. letting it fly across the room when he starts kissing you against your chest, sucking on the skin of your breast

you slightly tug on his hair and he moans so sweetly. you feel the start of you sweating, the arousal giving you a temperature like feeling. your body starting to grind and roll up into him feeling how stiff he is, giving you so much pleasure and he not even inside you yet.

you nearly jumpstart when he suddenly bites your nipple the pain making you jump running his tongue over the pebble and suctioning his lips to soothe the pain. “feel so good” you whispers gripping his hair tighter when he switches to your other breast. sinking his teeth in harder to hear those pretty noise he loves working his hips to build a rhythm into you

letting your breast go, he lifts his head up to just admirers your naked body, reaching his hands to touch all the welts he created. your so cute it makes him aggressive for some reason. sometimes he just wants to squeeze you against him til he can’t anymore.

makes him do things like pressing your breast together roughly. your so adorable he can’t help it, you have to arch your back up for some relief. watching the flesh spill from in between his fingers. he lets them free loving how their decorations he has added to your skin, he pulls his hand back and smacks the mounds of flesh

the static feeling has you jumping, trying to run away from the unique state he has you in when he starts to twist your sore nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. holding them tightly to stretch them as far as they can go. slapping your breast again while he watches them jiggle

he’s infatuated with you, how your body reacts to him, even your crybaby ways. sliding your panties off. “you ready for me doll ?” distracting with a question so he can strip himself of his clothes, waiting for your answer. your mouth to busy watering looking at his body, it’s so sculpted and the different images on his body has you tracing them with your fingertips while you wait for him to finish undressing

your eyes locking on his bobbing thickness when he pulls himself free. “so ready for you” you can feel the wetness leaking from you just looking at him. positioning your body so that your legs are wide open your feet laying on the bed. wide open for him so he can see everything, so he can see you

joker just sees you spread out and it’s like he gets hypnotize. running his hands over your legs to comfort you preparing you. moving closer to your body adjusting to lightly tap the tip of him onto you to feel the stickiness between your folds. “i should punish you, shouldn’t fuck you at all. should make you beg all night” the cream covers him when continues with the motion, your wetness coating him “huh, since you don’t like my gifts ?” he questioned you, working his length between your puffy lips. the moisture helps him when start to roll into you not yet penetrating you. your clit being hit with his spitting head of precum

“jay im sorry” you mew he can already see those tears that he hates so much at the corners of your eyes. “you forgive me ?” you reach out to him your hand running on his flexing core. trying to seduce him to comply with your wants

he ignores you knowing your trying to get him to fall into your trap. he shoves you hand out the way voice gruff. positioning himself to poke into you slowly, you can feel your walls seperating when he moves deep, sucking him in. causing his moans to be animalistic almost sounding like he is growling. and he is still pushing his thicknesss into you.

you feel like you can’t breathe when he meets his pelvis with yours. he can’t even relax, because of your walls gripping him. your plushy walls pulsing while he is inbetween them “doll, your squeezing me so tight” he kisses your check softly. pulling his arms under you to pull you closer to him pressing your chest against his.

you crave the feeling of his soft kissing when he lays his head in your neck. kissing your neck tenderly touching the bruises and letting his tongue roll over them when he starts a gentle pace into you. “j-j-jay your so deep” your mouth right by his ear where he can hear you take ragged breaths

even though he grabs your hair hard making your head throb, makes you throat sore from him always squeezing his hand around it, from him bruising you in bites all over. but whenever he is inside of you he contradicts himself moving slowly. never being rough when he is inside your snug walls. instead he wants you to be rough with him.

his eyes rolling back when you start to grab at his back. your nails dragging on his skin and letting the burning feeling take over body. “scratch me harder baby” his voice light as he begs while he is humping you is so rhythmic the when the top of him catching in the back of your walls on that special spot which makes you grant his wishes. your nails dragging down his skin rougher

your legs have to stay open to make sure you can feel him. feel him almost reaching your cervix, blood coming from his fresh line wounds on his skin. he loves the pain it brings him pleasure, it over takes his body. he craves it from you whenever your walls consume him

he is moving slowly and steadily, making you desperate for just a little more. your fingers running through his soft strands. your fingers are doing the same thing your toes are doing, curling. pushing your fingers into his scalp grabbing tightly at his hair pulling his head back hard

you can see his lip move with each roll of his hips. he is talking to himself quietly, only speaking louder to praise you. he can’t collect himself, the burning in his scalp makes his eyes flutter and his lip come between his teeth. whimpers coming out to your ears.“harder, please fuck me harder” you beg you can feel a simmering feeling in your body

his head whips froward when you let his soft locs go “you know i can’t doll, you know…” his words jumbling together, you only catch the beginning. your legs coming to wrap around to keep him close. your back arching up when he angles his hips just right to hit the back of your walls, his groin rubbing on your clit.

he has to collect his breath when you look so eternal laid out and moaning for him. you wetness coating him so much he has use his knees so that he has proper direction and doesn’t slip into you. he can feel your legs starting shake around his waist. "come on baby you don’t wanna do your favorite part ?”

he knows you have so much love for wrapping your hands around his throat, dominating him makes you feel in charge. but really it’s his favorite part. having to use all your focus to bringing your shaky hands to cut his air supply off holding his neck, not yet adding pressure. "harder doll" his hips still stroking you slow and steady.

he can feels his blood pulse to his length when your cut his air flow off. threatening an early release from him that he has hold you tightly to not spill to quickly. he likes the pain it makes his body buzz. causing the new found piston of his hips.his hips rolling deeply into you while your body start shake more. pressing your thumbs almost makes it seems like your trying to touch the back of his throat.

noticing the whites of his eyes slowly taking over his pupils from the lack of oxygen. his pale neck turned purple with how hard he had you holding him. your hands letting him go watching him gasp and groan. legs around his waist while he strokes you so consistently. his milky skin and his tattoos make you dizzy.

the long strokes makes you start to feel the pit in your stomach, the high creeping up on you. grabbing his lower back with both hands scratching near the base of his back. “jayyy”

your consuming him, controlling him from how your plushness surrounds him, from your nail creating pleasure. the first reaction of you when you can feel the sensation reaching from the tip of your toes to you the ache in your pelvis, from how deep his hips work into yours. is to bite him like how he does you, sinking your teeth in his shoulder

“ugh cupcake, your trynna k-” he shakes on top of you. your both almost at your peak, biting him harder when you can feel the tingles all over your body while your moaning into his skin. “your trynna… trynna” he mumbles more feeling the quake in his loins. while your thighs are trembling faster

you both coming to your high at the same time, pulling him so close to your body, letting him free from your teeth. moaning more “j-jay please” your eyes rolling back when you let your body go. letting the euphoria take over. your whole body shaking while he can feel your walls taking his cum in.

he kisses you to swallow your moans, the sounds vibrating against each other. your arsoual at the same time makes your souls combine together he lets your lips go when your body stopped buzzing. seeing your eyelids flutter close when he pulls out of you

when you wake up from you sex induced nap. your meet with three gold necklaces and 6 golden bracelets gracing your wrist, making you smile dreamily

#dc joker #joker suicide squad #blackfem!reader #black reader #joker x black reader #dc comics smut #joker x blackfem!reader #blackfemreader #♪ the girl is mine - micheal jackson #this has been in my drafts since february omgg !!!#love y’all so much ♥︎ ♥︎#thank you for 300 followers !!#kinktober 2024 #lychee drafts ۟ ꪆ୧✧ㅤㅤ ۟#arminzblackbimbo ૮꒰ྀི˵ > ﻌ < ˵꒱ྀིა

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jaebeomsbitch · 2 years ago

Text

The Touch of a Prince (E.M.)

Summary: You really really like your boyfriend's hands.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, smut, pure smut, explicit, lots of petnames, p in v, banana cream pies. Not edited like always

GIF credit: @foggystreetlights

A/N: just discovered the person who cosplays eddie and makes a whole bunch of eddie gifsets....

It was Eddie’s day off from the tattoo shop. He’d spent the day cleaning the house and when he was finally done he decided to work out an idea for a song. You’d come home about three hours into him practicing, a pencil in his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration but the one thing you could not get your eyes off of was his hands. The way the flexed with every movement, the way his veins popped when he’d move his hand up.

“You almost done?” You murmur, eyes scaling your boyfriend.

“Hmm?” He hums distracted but his eyes turn towards yours catching the tail end of your ogling. His lip immediately curving upward in a smirk.

“Why? Is my princess in need of her valiant knight’s services?” He says dramatically.

“Mhm,” you hum quietly nodding your head slowly as you scoot back on the couch.

“Well if duty calls” he says, placing his guitar back on its stand. His heavy footsteps frantic as he all but practically runs towards you. He jumps on the couch with a thud, the springs creaking in protest.

“You’re gonna fucking break it” you laugh. The two of you bought this shitty couch after moving in together. Before Eddie had become popular in the local tattoo scene. You could afford a better one but why waste something that is practically new?

“I was told an urgent matter needed my services” he says pressing kisses to your neck. You can’t help but laugh as you’re pinned under his body.

“Okay well not that!” You say pushing his face away.

“Mhm, okay then what does my precious princess in need of?” He says still using that stupid accent.

Your nose brushes his softly, eyes lashes fluttering against each other. “Do you trust me?” You whisper. A stupid smile adorns his face.

“Course I trust you. Trust that you won’t bite my dick off when it’s in your mouth. Did you know the force in a human jaw could do that? Like just cleanly” he rambles, getting distracted like he always does. He makes a chomping motion.

“Take it right off” he says, getting off of you dragging you with him until you’re sitting with your legs across his lap.

“God you’re so…” you say, making a face at him with face annoyance but there’s a little smile on your face.

“Hot?” He says with a smirk.

“No-“ you try to say but he interrupts.

“Charming? Handsome? God, keep going” he continues.

“Annoying” you say, interrupting him before he keeps going.

“Well luckily most hot people are annoying” he says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

“You’re insufferable too,” you scrunch your nose at him with a disgusted face. He decides to attack, his fingers pressing at your sides.

“No! No-“ you try to seat his hands away but you’re laughing uncontrollably as he tickles you.

“You don’t call me annoying or insufferable when I’ve got my cock in you” he laughs.

“Please- stop!” You heave for breath seeking reprieve. He lets go of you with a chuckle, going back to his position on the couch as you pant for breath, your stomach aching from forced laughter.

“God, I was trying to ask you a question!” You whine as you sit up. Your hair all fucked up from thrashing around, face flushed. You lean your shoulder on the couch cushion as you look at Eddie.

“My name is actually Eddie,” he says with a smug smile.

“That’s it! I’ve had it” you grumble a twinge of annoyance creeping into you as you cover his mouth and straddle his lap.

“Oohh kinky,” he muffles into your palm.

“Eddie seriously, I’m gonna lose my shit” you warn. He immediately holds his hands up in surrender. You let go of his mouth with a pointed glare, his hands finding their way to your ass.

“Yes, Princess?” He says with a smile on his lips.

“No, now I don’t want to. You’re being annoying” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Okay fine- fine I’m sorry” he says cupping your face and peppering your cheeks with kisses until you relax against him.

“What did you need?” He says softly, pushing your hair back out of your face.

“I wanted to do something but you’re gonna find it weird” you mumble.

“Weird? Like the time I let you hold my dick when I peed?” He says, one of his eyebrows quirked, clear amusement in his tone.

“Eddie!” You whine.

“Okay, okay” he laughs.

“Let me see your hand” you demand.

“You gonna read my palm or something?” he asks putting his right hand in front of you.

“Something like that” you say, you fold his fingers in and unfold them trying to build the courage to do it. To do what you’d been thinking about doing amongst the other dirty thoughts in your mind.

“You just wanted to play with my hands?” He laughs softly. You roll your eyes finally just sticking his pointer finger into your mouth. You lick at it, swirling your tongue around it.

“What are you doing?” He asks, amusement lost from his voice. Instead he sounds out of breath, his free hand squeezes your ass, his eyes trained on your lips wrapped around his digit.

Groaning, Eddie leans back on the couch, closing his eyes as you continue to suck on his fingers. You can feel the press of his half hard cock as you sit on his lap as he massages your ass with one hand.

"God, you're driving me crazy," he mutters.

You pull his fingers out of your mouth with a string of saliva dripping down your chin.

“I’m not doing anything” you murmur laying your head on his shoulder. You spread out his fingers licking in between the spaces then take his pointer finger into your mouth sucking on it.

Panting, Eddie watches with difficulty as you lick and suck on his fingers, his cock throbbing in his jeans.

"Do you have any idea how sexy that is?" he asks hoarsely.

You look up at Eddie with your big doe eyes. Cocking your head to the side innocently as you take in his middle finger and start sucking on it. This was your payback for Eddie’s annoying behavior.

Eddie shakes his head, rolling his hips up to gain friction.

“Fuck, need to be inside you princess” he pants. You hum around his fingers, sucking on them harder at the proposition. His one hand fumbled with the button on his jeans and yet he perfectly undoes it and unzips the zipper. You look at him with a questioning gaze.

“What? I have a lot of practice” he murmurs, cheeks glowing red. He’s cute when he’s embarrassed. Nonetheless he pulls his jeans and underwear down, his cock bobbing out of the fabric. It lightly slaps against his stomach, smearing precum over his maiden tee.

He slips his fingers out of your mouth, you can’t help but whine at the loss but he doesn’t give you a second to think. He’s yanking down his boxers that you’re wearing, thumb finding your clit as you kick them off.

“S-shit” you moan pressing your forehead into his shoulder.

“You’re so fucking far” he grunts, pulling you closer by the waist. You can’t help but laugh breathlessly but then his thumb is rubbing tight circles on your bundle of nerves, your thighs trembling.

“F-fuck okay okay okay” you pant not even knowing why you’re saying okay but you’re hovering over his cock. Eddie holds it at the base aligned with you perfectly to sink into him like an animal in quicksand.

“Not until I have your fingers” you whisper, swallowing hard. You feel like you’re slowly losing any semblance of humanity, like poison drips into your blood stream. Converting you into a primal cock hungry whore.

“Always have to draw things out don’t you?” He pants while shaking his head. His thumb leaving your clit, middle finger slipping into your sopping pussy.

“Mmm f—f” you stutter, the press of his warm metal rings at your labias having you forgetting your name. You look down, the veins on his inner wrist flexing, the bracelet on his wrist slightly bouncing with the movement, his eyes staring at the way you take his finger then sliding in his ring finger. Stretching you out as you start rocking your hips against his palm. You grip his shoulders harder.

“G-guh fuck Eddie” you moan, your head dropping in defeat as he curls his fingers.

“That’s it, ride my fucking hand” he all but growls. If he’s gonna be tortured he might as well enjoy it.

“Look so fucking pretty like this, Sweetheart. Got you all dumb from just my hand. I see the way you look at ‘em. Think you’re smart, huh? Looking away from me when I look over” he chuckles, his free hand gripping your hip moving you to ride his hand harder with each hard press of his fingers.

“C-can’t help it” you moan. Heat pools at your core, the familiar burn feels like lava, your face pressed desperately into his shoulder. If it wasn’t for Eddie’s hand on your hips you don’t know if you could move.

“Aww the poor little princess can’t help it? Can’t help imagining me fucking your pussy just like this? Getting your juices all over my fucking rings?” He grunts with the effort as he feels your muscles start to twitch.

“That’s it, cum on my fucking fingers. Show me how much you fucking love ‘em” he pants in your ear.

“S-shit. Oh fuck” you cry out, your nails digging into his skin as you feel the burn deep in your core. Your clit rubbing over his palm, his fingers ramming into your g-spot over and over again, the hard press of his metal rings. It isn’t long maybe a few seconds that you cum all over his hands.

It drips down his thick fingers, smearing all over his rings, creating a small puddle in his palm. Fuck… you’d never cum this much and all because of his hands. He slides his fingers out of you carefully as you heave for air.

The heat ghosting over his neck as you relax in his hold.

He tuts, ”s’only your first own, Princess. Still gotta ride my cock like you’re riding a first prize stallion.”

“S-shit y-yeah just.. just give me a sec would ‘ya?” You gasp. He runs your back softly until you sit up on his thighs pulling back to look at his face.

“There she is” he grins, using his clean hand to brush stray pieces of hair out of your face. You press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Thanks for that” you murmur shyly under the intense gaze of your boyfriend. He looked like a man starved for days looking at his first meal.

“That? Oh sweetheart… you’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow when I’m done with you,” he says with a cocky grin.

“Now, I believe I was told that my Princess likes my hands. Hmm? S’that true sweetheart?” He asks almost condescendingly. You nod meekly not knowing where this is heading.

He grips your hips pulling you up. Your thighs tremble lightly as you’re back in the same position as before.

“Think you can take it baby? Have a surprise for you, if you’re a good girl” he says, rubbing his thumb softly over your hipbone.

“Yeah- Yes I can,” you nod. You shift closer, your knees pressing into the sides of his hips as you slowly sink down into him.

“Oh- fuck” you whine, your pussy still sensitive from your orgasm. Your walls pulse around him, already slick with your cum, coating his cock in it. He tilts your head up to look at him.

“Open that pretty mouth of yours Princess,” he murmur, his stomach straining not to fuck you hard like he wants. He knows you need him to be gentle right now. You oblige opening up your plump lips with uncertainty.

He slides his cum covered fingers into your mouth forcing you to taste yourself. His other hand finding your hip slowly pulling you towards him in a gentle roll of your hips. You moan around his fingers for a second time.

Your tongue laps up your cum gathering it on the tip as you start moving your hips on your own. Instead of bouncing you choose to swivel your hips, keeping a figure eight.

This causes Eddie’s cock to stay buried deep inside of you, the meeting point of the two rings forcing his cock to press into your g-spot. You curl your toes, gasping around his wrinkled fingers. Fuck, you’re so sensitive. Eddie could sneeze and you’d cum again. Nonetheless you flex your stomach ignoring the way your pussy flutters around him.

Like a deep primal urge in you knows, knows that you need your fill.

“Fuck, that’s it” he pants, his desperation growing. He slides his fingers out of your mouth, the skull ring staying behind, you swirl it around your tongue cleaning it and bring it forward to show him just as he grabs your hips.

“Jesus fucking Christ you��re gonna fucking kill me” he gasps out, his big hands forcing you to bounce on his cock.

It’s like you lose all inhibitions as you feel the slam of his cock curving into you.

“Oh- God. Fuck- fuck” you moan loudly. It gets harder and harder to stave off your orgasm as he presses his back into the couch pistoning upwards.

“S-shit you’re gonna fucking break me” you gasp. Your stomach flexes painfully, your clit rubbing into the thatch of curly hair above his cock ever time he slams you down into him. You pull at the couch cushions behind his head desperately.

“I- I can’t Eds” you cry, every fibre of your body is telling you to let go. Eddie feels the familiar tug at his balls, a shiver running up his spine.

“Look at me,” he grunts.

You try and strengthen your neck but all you can manage is to press your forehead into his.

“You’re mine, always fucking remember that” he says fiercely.

“I thought I was the princess” you laugh breathlessly.

“And I’m your fucking prince” he moan.

You whine “don’t wanna cum yet.” You press up on your knees slamming down harder onto his cock. The only thing preventing you from falling is Eddie’s hands on your hips and your grip on his shoulders

“Love your cock to much wanna stay like this forever” you moan.

Laughing, Eddie pulls you closer, his lips finding yours. His tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting your cum on your tongue.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips. "I'll never get tired of being inside you.”

“Fuck- come on princess, cum for me” he encourages.

“No no no no no” you whine but the heat keeps pooling and shocks travel up your spine as you get closer and closer.

Hearing your desperate pleas, Eddie knows you're on the edge. He wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you even closer as he thrusts into you with abandon.

"That's it," he praises. "Just let it happen."

“No Eddie,“ you whine but your pussy still clenching around him, your stomach tightening with effort as you try to stave off your pleasure.

“Fuuuck” you gasp your neck flexing as you grit your teeth.

“That’s it, that’s fucking it” he grunts rubbing right circles on your clit. Your velvet walls clench harder around him, his cock making you completely dumb.

You let go involuntarily, everything all too much. You cum hard trembling above him, collapsing into his chest.

“Fuck-beautiful. So. Fucking. Beautiful,” he grunts.

“Cum inside me,” you pant out.

“What?” His eyebrows practically fly to his hairline.

“Cum inside me” you say more urgently, shocks running up your spine.

“Y- fuck you can’t say shit like that to me” his eyes roll back and his lips part. He cums inside you with a loud groan.

You sigh as you get comfortable on his lap. His cum and cock still buried deep inside you. You press a soft kiss to the side of his head

“My pretty boy” you whisper.

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