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tbgblr2 · 1 year ago

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Giving birth the au natural way

This is a reworking of a roleplay I had recently with @allkindsofpreg

Hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed working on it :)

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Our midwife was surprisingly agreeable. Which was a shock… first time, clueless parents being left to their own devices to bring forth a baby wasn’t exactly many couples idea of a good time, but for us, we were prepared and ready. We much preferred our own company as much as anyone else’s, and let’s be honest, we find we can be ourselves more when we don’t have a room of people watching us. So we booked the retreat our midwife recommended to us. 2 houses in an area of nothingness, one for us, one for her. We paid through the nose to book them for 2 weeks but we had to be sure so we booked 1 week either side of your due date. We’d spent a week here getting set up when early morning came on your due date accompanied by some mild, but noticeable cramping. A text to the midwife, and a reply saying she was on her way - but if we didn’t need her just let her know when the baby was born and she’d come and do the medical checks.

You swallowed a big gulp of fresh woodland air as you stood on the patio area, the weather thankfully warm enough to not need to wrap up. You were barefoot and wearing a light top and shorts set that you had been sleeping in - by rights should still be sleeping in - but the cramps were getting you excited - you’d waited 9 months for this moment.

You gathered up the hem of your top to rest on top of the impressive expanse of your stomach. The muscles there tightened again and, closing your eyes, leaning against the doorframe. The gentle breeze felt cool against your flushed skin. You pressed a hand to the spot you could feel our little one kicking out against.

“I know, it’s not comfortable for you either, is it?” Another kick in response confirmed it and you smiled. “Well it won’t be long now.” Hopefully, anyway.

You wandered back in the house to scour the kitchen for some light breakfast— you were going to need the energy later. You were just about to pour a glass of orange juice when you felt my arms slide around your pregnancy-expanded waist, my body moulding around your back. You leaned back into me and rested your head against my shoulder. “You should go back to bed,” you mumbled, but I made no move to let you go. “Might be a while before we get another chance.”

“I heard you correctly earlier, and I’ll be damned if you think I’m missing any of this” I say, kissing the back of your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. I release off you and fill the coffee machine and set it to brew “though I suspect I might need this” I say with a grin.

I walk to the door you were recently outside of and look out to the sunrise just starting to poke above the horizon.

“Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day to watch a beautiful woman do something beautiful with our baby”

The smell of freshly brewed coffee brought with it a longing. Technically it was fine for you to have a cup, but the nerves were already starting to build and the whole point of coming out here was to keep everything calm and peaceful. Besides, the baby didn’t seem to like it and nauseous was the last thing you wanted to be right now. You just decided to stick with toast and juice.

By the time you had finished preparing your food, the coffee was finished also, so you poured some into a campfire mug and joined me on the patio.

“I’m glad we’re doing this here,” you said, handing over the cup and taking in the view with me. You placed down your plate, and hands now free, you placed them at your hips and arched backward, pulling your shoulder blades together and stretching your lower back. It made your belly stick out even more and caused your shirt to ride up about halfway, getting stuck there even when you straightened back up. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “What? You find this sexy?” you asked, rocking your hips and rolling your huge tummy around in a little mock seductive dance. “Enjoy it now, before it’s gone!”

I moved around in front of you, my hands clasping around the belly, warm to the touch. I can’t help but smile. “I’ll enjoy it as much as I can… then the next… then the next one after that” I punctuated each statement with a kiss. Suddenly I feel your belly tense and you betray the moment with a slight wince “was that a contraction?” I ask.

“Mmm,” you hummed in confirmation, leaning into my touch and letting out a slow breath, your hands finding purchase on my forearms. This one held on a bit longer, sharpening at its peak, and your grip tightened considerably— your anchor as the pain washed over you. Your stance widened, your knees bend as I supported you and coached you to sway in time with your breaths. Even when it passed you kept your hold on me, looking into the distance and laughing a little breathlessly.

“I guess they started last night,” you admitted, a little sheepishly. “But it was the same as I’d been feeling for weeks now and, I don’t know, I guess I thought labor would feel… different somehow. But they’re definitely closer together now. And stronger.” The aftershocks of that last cramp still twinged and tugged. “So I guess todays the day?”

“We can only hope” I say with a smile. My phone buzzes with a text, I pick it up and read it - it’s from the midwife. She’s texting to say she just arrived and she was going to get bedded down and for us to ring her in case she’s needed - she’d keep her phone on loud so it would wake her. I casually comment that she’s made good time but not really surprising considering the time of day it is.

We hold each other close looking out over the brightening morning.

“Want to go for a walk?” I enquire, “might help get things established? I’ll be nice and even help you get your shoes and socks on!”

Considering you hadn’t been able to reach your feet for some time now, you gladly accept my offer. Grabbing some stretchy leggings and a t-shirt from the dresser, your gaze lingers on the little stack of newborn onesies folded up on top - you give your tummy a little pat—it’s hard to believe that soon there’s going to be a whole new person in the world. You admit you’re going to miss this, the feeling of having someone growing inside me, but you suspect you won’t have to miss it for long. We want a big family.

We start out along the same path we’ve been walking every morning, but only barely make it past the tree line when another contraction hits. You try to walk through it at first, but of course I notice and suggest we take a rest and remind me that this is why we’re here—it’s not a race, we’re not trying to force anything, we’re just going to listen and respond and let it happen.

After an hour, your clothes are stuck moulded to your skin, your hips are aching, and we’re still only halfway through the loop. “This is a lot harder than it was yesterday,” you say, still slightly hunched and out of breath from the latest contraction.

I stop and rub your back, the feeling eliciting a groan of appreciation from you, I then say “come on let’s do the thing”

You smile knowing what I mean. You stretch out, straightening your back as I come in behind you. Reaching around and crossing my hands under your belly I pull up relieving the pressure on your back and hips immensely. Your sigh of relief was glorious. We stood there for a good minute just rocking side to side in the strange form of embrace until you reach down and grab at my hand. The next contraction was building, and I could feel everything in your belly between my fingers. You grunt as the feeling builds, gripping my forearm more and more. The feeling doesn’t last long, 30 seconds at most, but it had only been around 10 minutes since your last one - you were keeping track. They were definitely speeding up.

As your grip lessens on my arm signalling the end of the pain I lower your belly and gradually let go, accompanied by a ‘whump’ sound expelled from you as you took back over the weight.

Still behind you I wrap my arms in the gap between your breasts and the top of your belly hugging you close.

I whisper close to your ear, something about the early morning and complete quiet not wanting me to speak too loudly as I say “sorry baby, I had to… let it go”

Of course the last words were said in a song-song tone as you groaned - nothing to do with the contractions this time. I apologise with “so I started the dad jokes a little bit early.”

You feel a little roll and then a kick up somewhere near your rib cage. “See? Even the baby is protesting,” you whine, rubbing at the tender spot. Alright, maybe you’re a little cranky at having to bear the full weight of gravity again. But it gives you an idea. “Lake?” you suggest.

It’s another two contractions before we get to the clearing, but it’s so worth it. The lake is surrounded by mountains on one side, forest on the other, and the water is crystal clear and still quite cold. I give you a skeptical look, but you’re determined. “It’s warming up now that the sun’s up,” you reason. “Or maybe we’ll just have to huddle together for warmth,” you suggest with a waggle of your eyebrows, without hesitation you pull off your shirt and kick off the shoes you would not be able to put back on by yourself. The leggings are too clingy and stuck to bother trying to take off, so they’re all you’re wearing as you begin to wade into the fresh water.

You take a step in and all the air leaves my lungs in one whoosh. It. Is. Cold. But now here you are, topless, one foot in the water, back straining, and another contraction starting with no feasible form of relief in sight. Suddenly the pressure spikes and this baby feels so heavy pressing down inside you. You let out some noise of surprise or discomfort and I'm there in an instant.

I wade into the water throwing off my top and tossing it into the rough area where your pile of clothes are, my own trousers and shoes still on and soaked through.

“Babe!” you call, though I’m already there—a question, a plea.

I grab hold of your hand as you squeeze for all you’re worth, the pain of the contraction evident. You’re clearly having a difficult time as you let out a low pitched moan as your grip tightens and tightens against my hand. Suddenly you release, gasping a breath out.

“You OK?” I enquire. You nod, not able to speak. A few seconds later you manage “that was a rough one, hope there aren’t too many like that” with a weak smile.

I return the smile to you as your hands release mine and you rub them over my body. “My big strong hero diving into the water to save his damsel in distress”

I gulp, noticing the chilled water having an obvious effect on your nipples, they had already gotten big and dark with the onset of your milk coming in, and now they poked out almost as long as a finger to the first knuckle.

You follow my eyes and see where I have spotted.

“Nipple stimulation is good to bring on contractions you know” you purr at me.

I don’t need to be told twice my hands paw at your breasts, your voice betraying a giggle as I move to the nipples, water from the lake leaving them slippery as my fingers tug and squeeze them. Your hands move from my body to both sides of your belly as you groan - at first with the pleasure of my touch then finally with the effects of another contraction starting its journey on you.

“I guess it works,” you note before the full force of the contraction takes hold, grabbing onto my shoulders and resting your forehead against mine, breathing in and out slowly along with me as the pain crests. It still hurts, but at least the water is taking off some of the pressure and you’re able to stay present through the whole thing.

When it’s over, you slide your hands down my arms and position me hands back on your breasts. “I think we’re getting the hang of this whole ‘labour’ thing,” you say with a grin as I continue my previous ministrations. You initiate a kiss and push yourself deeper into my grasp and chuckle as you’re brought up short by the belly between us.

Your hands find their way to my chest, my hips, then dip down beneath the waistband of my pants. It’s not exactly an ideal temperature for this, but you still hear my grunts of pleasure as you stroke, massage and tug.

We pause for another contraction—your grip moving a safe distance away from anything particularly sensitive—and you bury your face into the crook of my neck with a groan. The vocalizations help, a long, sustained note that rises in volume, but breaks when the contraction becomes too much and you switch to releasing short puffs of air. When you’re finally able to take a full breath again, you lift your head and look into my eyes. “Maybe we should start heading back.”

“You’re the boss, princess” I grin as I follow you out of the water, watching it drain off down your hips and ass as you get closer and closer to the edge. You give a little wiggle as you feel my hand pressed against your soaked through bottoms making contact with your ass cheek and I’m reminded of the caress you gave me in the water, my own length stiffening at the thought once again. We finally reach the waters edge and find a tree stump for you to sit on as I dry off what I can of your feet using my top before sliding your shoes back on again. I give you a hand putting your own top on as I pull on my own - now wet and sticking to my body, as I give you a hand up and we start our slow, squelching walk back to the cabin.

“Right now I want a nice warm shower” I say, you nod as another contraction picks up. You’re now at the point where you’re coping by vocalising, you stop moving as the contraction is upon you. You groan something in between your moans about the head feeling so low and how much your hips hurt that I come in behind you and squeeze my hands tight against your hips, pressing to try and help.

The force of my hands adds a nice bit of respite for your overtaxed back and pelvis, but it does little to counter the powerful pressure barrelling down in your core. You can’t speak, can’t stand up

straight, can’t focus on anything besides the air moving in and out of your lungs, and even that is a struggle.

Between the increasingly frequent contractions and your slow walk turning into an even slower waddle, the trip back from the lake takes at least twice as long as it did to get there. Our destination is in sight when another contraction hits and you grab onto my forearms—it’s a routine by this point—and bend your knees, getting into a gentle squat in front of you. Everything feels swollen and tight and impossibly full as your womb compresses. You start to wonder if your water breaking would relieve some of that painful tension.

Finally, we make it back and the shower is big enough for a party, so there’s easily enough room for both of us and the birthing ball we’d brought. I start the water, help strip you out of your wet and sticky clothes, and get you situated on the ball before getting myself ready and joining you in there. The warmth—and my hands—soothe your tight muscles as you roll your hips in gentle circles on the ball. It’s almost as if you can feel the head moving down with the force of each contraction and as a result you keep your legs splayed wide. More than once you catch my eyes lingering on your feminine curves. With more than a little assistance, you get up and have me take your seat on the ball; then you sit on my lap facing me, your belly pressing into me, your legs wrapped around mine in invitation.

The slippery ball coupled with the slippery occupants take a lot of my concentration to stay stable as you climb onto my lap, but wrapping your arms around the back of my neck helps keep us upright.

Your belly presses tight against me as you continue to writhe and wriggle as you huff and pant in my ear, your forehead pressed against mine.

I find myself getting hard at the closeness of your body and you react to the feel of the bulge pressing against the underside of your belly by rocking back and forth teasing both it and me.

My hands grip behind your back as you writhe, as I manage to get what little purchase I can on your slippery skin.

The contraction snuck up on you, your mind elsewhere as the all too familiar tightening ramped up, causing you to lean back and grip hard on my shoulders. You suddenly squeal as you feel a release. Whilst the obvious splash was lost in the water running within the shower, your waters had broken, and the sudden realisation that the baby’s head is just right on the cusp of appearing at your lips has you start shaking with anxiety, knowing you’re getting closer to having to push.

“Oh!” Even though you’ve been expecting it, waiting for it, the sudden release still takes you by surprise. Without the cushion of the amniotic sac the head descends quickly and violently, locking into your canal like a dislocated joint popping back into place. “Ohhh,” the exclamation quickly turns into a groan—the new wave of pressure that comes with this contraction is intense and your hand automatically reaches between your legs. There’s nothing there to touch yet, but you swear it feels like the baby is about to fall right out of you.

You slide off my lap and settle into a deep squat. Your breaths are coming in short, frantic gasps and the water running down your face makes it difficult to take in air, so you pitch forward onto your knees, resting your crossed forearms on my thighs and burying your head between my knees. Any other time the gesture would be most salacious, but right now all you want is to get through this contraction without drowning. I do my best to pull your hair back and shield you from the shower head, you manage to pant and curse your way through the worst of it.

You say we need to get out of here, to dry off and get to wherever we want to be for the birth, but even when it’s over you can’t bring yourself to unfurl from your current position. I presume you must be comfortable, as we stay this way for several seemingly back-to-back contractions that leave you trembling, nauseous and a little bit lightheaded. The weight in your hips seems to keep you anchored to the ground.

You recall reading about what labour would be like, how difficult and painful and relentless the transition stage usually is, but some part of you thought that preparing for it would make you more equipped to handle it. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” you admit, though you’re not sure I can hear your muffled voice over the water spray. Not that you have any choice.

Maybe I did hear you, or maybe I just know you well enough to sense that you need to change positions, because before you realise, the water is shut off and you’re on your feet, wrapped in an oversized towel and my embrace.

I assist you out of the shower and we plod slowly and deliberately step by step into the main living room. Your walking stance still has a widespread gait, almost like you had stepped out of a long day in the saddle, but I know it’s just subconscious with you trying to relieve the pressure on your hips.

I lead you forward to the sofa, where I guide your hands to the armrests on one side. You grab hold and drop down into a partial squat, bouncing a little on your thighs. "Let me get something down here, don’t want to make too much of a mess" I grin, though I think the expression is lost on you, entirely focusing on the weight in your pelvis.

I stroke your back and give it a rub as I step away and grab a few more towels, placing them on the seat and around in front of it. I suspect both the wooden floor, and the faux leather seats would wipe up fine, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

I hear a groan coming from you and look up to see you swaying your hips in a figure eight pattern. You look up and lock eyes with me, you give me a quick smile as if to say that you're OK, and I return the grin with "It's all going as it should baby, you're doing really well. I love you and you're doing a wonderful job."

You suddenly squat down low, using the chair arm as support, roaring as you dip down. I scramble to the side to make sure that there's nothing obvious happening spying a long trail of mucus dripping onto the floor from your crotch. I lift the back of the towel up, exposing your ass as you manage a moment of strained speech "can you see anything?"

"Sorry baby, no." I don’t mention the long trail of slime which I wipe off with the towel. There's no obvious bulging around your lips however. You give a dejected sigh. "I think you were doing really well there when you were using gravity to help, so lets get back to what we were doing in the shower, but maybe a little more upright?"

You nod, and let me take hold of you as I lead you around to the seat. I sit down on it, still noticeably dripping water from the shower from me, and you stand in front of me as I lower myself down. You then drop down into a squat between my legs, your belly hanging low almost touching the ground you squat is that deep - you use my knees and thighs as support. My hands reach over to your shoulders and squeeze as you turn your head slightly and nuzzle into my left hand. The brief moment of calm is lost when the next contraction picks up though, and you're soon roaring out loud once more.

You want to push, but know the urge is coming more from your head than your body. You catch yourself wishing for this to just be over and take a moment to refocus on the present moment. As the next contraction builds, you close your eyes and let your body do what it wants, what it needs.

Your grip on my thighs tightens, concentrating the tension there to allow the rest of your body to relax. Your hips are still restless but keeping them open feels right, so you continue to sway in your deep squat, shifting your weight as your knees swing left, and right, left, and right. You focus the sounds leaving your mouth into one long, sustained hum, the tone increasing in volume and pitch as the pressure intensifies. The pain starts deep in your core and radiates outward, wrapping around your butt, thighs and creeping up your spine and up to your shoulders.

You throw your head back suddenly, arching your back and pulling up against gravity’s strong downward force. The noises in your throat shift to a series of primal whining moans – your whole body trembles as it attempts to deal with the shocks of pain centralized in your core. Just when you think you will surely be split in two, it dulls just enough for you to find my eyes, my focus, my excitement and then you remember… yes, you’re excited too.

I stand with you in the small breaks between contractions to give your knees a break, but the breaks get smaller and smaller and soon there’s not even enough time to change positions before another one is upon you. You don’t want to be stuck in that position, so instead you follow me to a seated spot on the couch. It’s deep enough so that you can settle between my legs and rest your back up against me. I pepper kisses along the line of your shoulder and up your neck as you twist your head so I can place one on your lips. My hands are molded to your generous swell, you placing yours over the top of them, interlocking our fingers as another relentless wave begins.

You pant, moan and writhe through another two contractions before the pressure in your ass and back becomes unbearable - your tailbone feeling like it’s going to snap. You know it must be the baby’s head moving down. Time must be passing, but you don’t know how long it is before the frenzied onslaught of contractions begins to slow and you feel like you can finally take a breath again.

You stand up and sit on my knee, pivoting in the position to swing one of your legs over my thigh, turning yourself sideways so that you can look up at me.

“Hi,” you say, and giggle as I give your bum an affectionate little squeeze. “I think it’s time to decide…” you pause, suddenly filled with nervous energy. I pull you in close, rub your tummy and wait for you to continue. The next contraction confirms it—the feeling, the urge that’s been building slowly until this moment when it now seems so obvious—you try to get the words out but you’re quickly tensed and grunting, trying your best not to be completely consumed by it.

“Need to decide—“ a quick huff, “where I’m going—“ a groan, “hnngh, to start pushing!” you finally yell, slamming backward into me and panting so quickly and heavily that it looks like you’re shaking. One of my hands grabs fiercely onto yours. The other disappears between your legs.

My mind recalls the bits of training and insight given to us by the midwife after we told her we wanted to go it alone. She was supportive, but of course insisted that she was nearby in case anything went wrong. She showed us a demonstration of dilation, and let me practice on a training dummy to see what the different stages felt like, so I was prepared. She explained it was often normal to feel like you need to push too early, so you were pushing against your own muscles rather than pushing into an open hole… it wasn't recommended.

My fingers entered into you, resulting in a small gasp. I immediately noticed how wet your passage was, presumably from the waters breaking, but thankfully I had no issue with snaking my fingers deeper and deeper. What shocked me first was how close to the entrance your cervix was - we had tested early in the pregnancy to see how deep I needed to feel back there, and to be blunt, it was painful pressing in that hard.

I felt the head at that point, my finger tracing around the circle of the entrance, a definite difference in texture between your muscles and the head of the baby. My face beamed. You looked at me quizzically. I replied "I can feel the baby, its right there, you're almost ready to push."

You managed a giggle and a strained sigh as you say "I know, I told you that, don't you doubt me young man when I tell you a need to find somewhere to push."

I look apologetic, but the mirth in your eyes gives away the fact you were just teasing me.

"Lets go outside…" I suggest, pausing a second, half expecting you to say no, that you were too vulnerable like this. You didn’t say anything. I continued. "I figure we wanted the natural air, the calming environment… and I don’t want to think I blew up the air mattress for nothing."

You giggled, but were cut short by another tensing pain. As we hold each other, you groan and howl, but start to wriggle off my lap. I question what the rush is, and you manage between panting breaths "don’t… know… how… long… I can wait."

I walk you over to the door, where you grab onto a chair back from the kitchen table sat by the large window overlooking the wilderness. I first grab hold of a pair of shorts - realising that if someone should walk past, it would be easier to avoid a public indecency charge for you than it would be for me - then pull open the door and rush back in to grab the air mattress I'd blown up the first day we got here.

As I dragged it and hefted it up to get it out the door, you pleaded at me to hurry. Your face showed genuine concern.

I took the mattress down the couple of stairs to a picnic area set outside the house. There was a cleared, grassy area next to it which didn’t have any significant amount of branches or any other sharp things which may burst the mattress, dashing back up for you, I led you down the few steps until you got to the mattress, lowering you down to your hands and knees.

You wasted no time at all, pushing back on your hands and thighs, you groaned, held your breath and gave your first push.

After so many hours of passive endurance, pushing with the contraction actually feels good. It almost seems to counter the internal pressure—almost—like finally being able to sneeze after your nose tickled all day. But it’s still your first time doing it and you’re not used to trying to focus and control those innermost muscles.

You rock back and you’re sure you look ridiculous with your ass high up in the air, but you feel my hands rubbing all along your thighs, coaxing you to relax and keep your hips open wide. For the first few contractions you try holding your breath and pushing as hard as you can for as long as you can. However, all that does is make you lightheaded and tired - and frustrated - that it seems to be fruitless.

I sense your growing impatience and ask if you want me to count for you and coach your pushes. You nod, and when you tense with the next contraction, I start at ten and work my way down to

one. You’re determined to keep going, but I tell me that it’s okay to let go and take a break for a second, that the baby is making its way down and it’s okay to breathe for a moment. You release a pained moan and try to pull in enough air to make it through another push. You’re trying to follow along with my instructions, but between being unable to see my face or feel your progress, having to balance on shaky arms on a shaky mattress… well, it’s just not working like that in this moment.

Carefully, you lower myself down so that you’re lying on your side, belly and head resting on some of the nest of pillows I’d brought out with us. Your knees are bent, one leg resting on the bed and the other flared out so you’re open like a clamshell. I sit toward the base of the mattress by your bent legs, my body angled toward yours so you can see me and your free leg can rest in my lap or over my shoulder. I also have a good line of sight as to what’s happening between your legs.

This puts a bit of unwelcome pressure on your hips, but for the most part this feels better—just as it was this morning, the breeze is fresh and cool against your skin allowing you to focus on my face and what your body is telling you. When another contraction starts, you hook my arm into the crook of my knee and pull it back toward your shoulder - as best as you can around your large stomach. Instead of holding your breath you release it slowly, squeezing your core and curling forward until you run out of air, then inhale just as slowly before repeating the process until the contraction begins to wane.

You lower your leg back down around my waist, put a hand on your belly, and look up at me with a smile. “That was good,” you say, finally feeling like you’re getting into the rhythm of this stage.

I plant a kiss on the top of your knee and join with you in feeling the firm swell that holds our child. “Just let me know if I can do anything” I offer with a little laugh.

Several contractions later you request that I begin holding your leg back—the urge to bear down is becoming overwhelming and you find yourself lost in it and unable to do anything else. The pressure is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, and every push feels like something is on the verge of cracking, bursting or tearing.

You’re holding your breath again, but only for a few seconds at a time—it’s all you can manage before the instinct to recoil from the pain takes over. It’s changing now—sharpening, burning—and you let out a sharp cry, your body jerking as your knees try to snap shut against my firm grip. I hold you in place, letting you squeeze me in a death grip even as I wrangle your legs to ensure your hips stay open. I try to rub a comforting hand along your stomach, thighs, and bum. You know you must be making progress when you feel me stretching and circling your vaginal opening, trying to prepare you for what’s to come. I give a few playful flicks to your clit, as if to make you forget how bad that last round of pushing felt. It works and you grind down on my hand, pushing it deeper into your folds.

“How- how close?” you ask, still panting despite the contraction being over.

“You’re doing really well” I say enthusiastically, “Each time you push, you bulge out… a few more and I might even start to see the head peeking out.”

You seem to visibly grow bolder at the news, renewing your stamina as you pull back your leg again, once more hooking it over my shoulder. I lean in with my hands, pressing lightly against the bulge forming in your vagina, the first outward signs of the head attempting to make its way, with your help, into the world.

Each push brings with it a groan of effort, and several huffing breaths as I keep count for you, trying to keep your focus on the task at hand rather than allowing your mind to wander and lose track of the progress rather than just concentrating on the pain in each rush of effort.

You push your crotch into my hands, wiggling a little as I stretch out my thumb in response and rub it slowly in circles around your clit. Your groans intensify to shouts, making me pause my actions, but you gasp in between breaths that its helping, and I shouldn’t stop. I leaned forward as best I could with your leg still up in the air on my shoulder and kissed the bottom of the bump, all the playful and affectionate touching resulting in your smile back at me as the contraction finally finished.

Another three, maybe four pushes later, and finally, the first outward signs of the baby appear at your lips, the teardrop shape stretching out over a tiny fraction of the head.

I almost jump with enthusiasm. “I can see it’s head baby… you’re doing so well… keep that effort up.” My gleeful sounds give you another burst of stamina, as you double up your efforts for the next push, straining hard.

“Easy baby… remember, it’s a marathon, not a sprint. You can’t force it. Take it nice and slow and you’ll get there sooner than you know.” You’re left panting by the exertion of the last attempt at pushing.

Of course, as much as there was some visibility of the head, it soon slipped back in again, your lips closing up around it as the push was let off, but between us, we both knew we had passed another milestone.

Your hand snakes down between your legs and feel around, realising that you couldn’t feel the head, and a little crestfallen, you start to take your hand away.

I grab your hand before you can remove it and put it back into place, using my fingers to separate your lips. Your fingers probe in and just inside, you feel it too, the slick, slightly spongy texture of the head of our baby.

“Keep it there on the next push” I say, as you nod, and once more the need to push is upon you. Feeling your finger being moved out as the head moves out, whilst only a fraction of an inch, gives you more motivation to carry on, and you’re suddenly beaming at me with your smiling face, the awe of the moment capturing you entirely.

“I feel it. I feel it!” Your finger traces a line up and down the slit between your folds—it’s still small and tight, but even your laughter causes the head to bob in and out of sight. “Hi, baby,” you coo, then look up at me and suddenly you’re overcome with emotion. “We’re about to be- parents,” you manage, biting back a happy sob.

I smile down at you, wiping away a stray tear and cupping your cheek tenderly before moving my hand down to the crest of your stomach. Another contraction starts but you’re still processing your feelings so I give the thigh you have tucked around my shoulder a little squeeze. “Don’t cry now, love, you’d only just got your breathing under control!”

You laugh, but I’m right— your body is demanding that you push and you’ve got to actually get the baby out before we can officially celebrate. You’re reminded of just how much work there is left to do when your next few pushes do little to reveal any more of the head. With my help, your knee is pulled back almost to your shoulder opening you up wide, you have one arm wrapped around the perimeter of your belly as I keep my palm pressed against your opening. The mound presses out and

recedes in time with your efforts, refusing to retain any progress despite giving everything you have to the pushes.

“You’re doing amazing,” I assure you, and you scoff in disagreement. “You are! You’re stretching, opening up nicely for our baby.”

You might have mumbled something about our baby inheriting an unnecessarily big head from me, but the truth is the baby is just big all over—at our last appointment, they estimated 9lbs+ if you made it to your due date… which is today. You groan and make another attempt at the seemingly impossible task, it always feels like you’re making progress until you stop pushing and it all disappears back into your tight folds.

You rest your leg back down at my side and reach your arms up to me. “I need to move again,” you decide. I pull you up to a seated position and help you swing my legs over the side so you’re perched at the edge of the mattress. It’s low enough to the ground that it’s almost a squat, and I kneel down in front of your spread knees. On the next contraction you curl forward, one hand on the underside of your belly and the other squeezing my shoulder. You let out a surprised yelp as the head lurches forward quickly, but just as quickly my hand is there providing support and counterpressure, tugging gently at the edges of your taut hole. The head jerks back inside when you take a breath, but then you lean back into it, pulling one leg back while keeping the other on the ground for stability. Another quick breath and then you’re back at it, letting out a high pitched cry when you feel yourself widen another fraction of an inch as the stretch starts to burn.

“Don’t let me tear!” you beg desperately between pushes—even though you’re just starting to crown, it feels like you can’t possibly open any more, and it’s almost a relief when the head sinks back inside this time.

You don’t make much progress during the next contraction, and I can tell it’s because of your hesitant pushes— you’re afraid of the pain that’s coming. When it’s over, I coax you down into a full squat in front of me. I don’t say anything, just pepper kisses all over your face and belly as my hands escalate their ministrations between your legs that have you squirming and breathless going into the next contraction. You push again in earnest, a mix of pain and pleasure, throwing your head back in a moan that turns into a shout and something in you gives way—the head making its way past my tailbone. This time when you stop pushing, the head stays right where it is, bowing out the skin of my vagina into a wide dome, a small round cap of hair at its peak.

“That’s it, we’re seeing real progress now baby, you’re doing so well.” My voice has a more muted tone than my yelling, enthusiastic outbursts from earlier, more intended to keep you calm and concentrating on the task at hand.

My fingers trace around the bulge between your legs now, feather light you squirm under my caress.

“That… that’s not fair” you manage to gasp, concentrating on the touch and not the cramping pains that have been your ever present companion for what seemed like hours now.

“You deserve a reward for all the hard work you have done, for all three of us” I say to you, my grin can only be described as devilish. My lips meet yours and we kiss in a passionate embrace - my hand curling around your shoulder in support as you brace yourself on my knee to stop you toppling over.

As we’re kissing, you pull back and groan, yet another contraction starting once more. My free hand which was down between your legs reaches up to caress the bump, then continuing further north it meets a breast and a nipple.

The sensitive area had already been a keen play area between us over the last few weeks, your nipples getting hyper sensitive as they were getting ready to express milk for the baby. My touch caused you to shiver as you recalled a recent play session, and you arch your back involuntarily pressing your chest out to give me more access.

My fingers lightly tug and squeeze the nipple, teasing it back and forth until you expressed a few drops of colostrum.

As I did so you pushed, eyes scrunched tight, panting out loud, all of your concentration on the pleasurable touches I was giving you rather than the pain you were feeling.

The nipple stimulation had an unexpected side effect, the contraction surged unexpectedly. You almost faltered and cried out but managed to maintain your composure, growling phrases such as “come on baby, come on out, mummy and daddy want to meet you” in between panting breaths.

You scream all of a sudden “so… much… pressure!” My hand drops down to between your legs and I feel the sheer amount of the head that’s starting to poke through. Unfortunately there’s still quite a way to go until you’re crowning, but my finger slips in between your lips and the baby’s head, stretching your skin a little.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by yourself, as I press my finger in and stretch you howl out in pain.

“I’m sorry baby but I need to help you stretch. There’s a long way to go and we need to take this nice, slow and easy”

You have moisture at the corners of your eyes as you say you know, acutely aware of how much work you have done, and beginning to realise just how much you still have to do.

“I’m with you” I blurt out, trying to get you back to a good place, your forehead slumping forward and meeting mine, as you pant, the contraction finally passing, my eyes look down between your legs and see the head sitting there, testament to the work you have done so far.

Some of the tension leaves you as you feel the skin stretch further - it’s still heavy and tight, but at least it doesn’t feel on the verge of causing damage anymore—and you sink forward into my embrace. You reach your hand down to feel what I’d just felt, barely recognising your own body. Your lips are hot, puffy and flared out monstrously wide so that they press out against your thighs. Your opening is kept taut and open in a perfectly round “O” and the skin feels so tightly moulded around the baby’s head even as its exit refuses to give way. You know women do this every day… but it just doesn’t seem physically possible in this moment.

“I need to stretch.” You’re telling yourself as much as me, but I nod anyway. “I need to relax long enough to let myself stretch.” You look at me almost pleadingly, and I know what you’re asking.

There’s little danger now of losing sight of the modest crown, so I lift you out of your squat and back up onto the mattress. You’re careful to keep your legs wide, knees falling open to the side as you lay fully on your back. I join you as soon as you’re situated, fitting myself between your hips, propping myself up on one side and hovering over your torso. We share a laugh as we try to find our balance, but soon you’re wincing with the start of another contraction.

“Breathe, baby,” I say gently, my free hand moving between your legs to continue its agonizing work. “Just breathe for now. Your body will do the work for you.”

“And you,” you manage before gritting your teeth and clutching at the pillows shoved in various supportive positions around you. I somehow manage to both stretch your hole and pleasure you at the same time, my thumb and index finger seemingly at odds in their objectives. You can’t help but push a little at the tail end and the burning is more bearable this time.

Between contractions you buck up your hips so both of my hands can work toward opening you up, a mix of massaging and stretching and teasing that has you pulling me on top of you. I kiss you deeply before my mouth moves down your neck and chest, settling over one of your darkened nipples as my tongue playfully flicks and envelops the sensitive tip. You’re so caught up in the sensations that the next contraction—made so much stronger so much faster by the stimulation—takes you completely by surprise and you scream, pulling hastily back on your legs and riding your body’s instinct to push.

“Easy now,” I caution you, pushing back against the growing dome between your legs and carefully supporting the suddenly overly stretched skin. “Breathe.”

“I can’t!” you yell, throwing your head back for a quick inhale before curling forward again.

“Then pant, pant! Hoo-hoo-hoo. Like you’re blowing out a birthday candle.”

You try to emulate releasing quick puffs of air but it turns into one long groan that escalates back into a howl as the pressure of the baby’s head combines with my tugging fingers. You have to press your hands into your trembling knees just to try and keep them open. Another push and you see me looking down between your legs, seeing what seems like the whole outline of the huge head pressing out against my skin still trapped behind my relatively small hole. You collapse backward in defeat.

“It’s too big,” you whine as the contraction begins to fade. You’re sure a lot of women feel that way and it turns out fine, but damn does it feel true right now. I look a little concerned, so you pull yourself up, repositioning so that ypu’re on your knees facing me. You take one of your hands and put it back between my legs and position the other over your breast. With a deep breath in then out again, you announce “Guess we better get to work.”

“Next time you need to push, just make ‘mmm’ sounds OK?”

You look skeptical but nod anyway, and soon you start. You pitch rises, and I tell you to keep it slow and steady, focus on the breathing rather than the pushing.

You nod, as my hands do their work. My hand that’s dipped down between your legs is rubbing and softening the skin between them, pressing back against the hard bulge of the head just agonisingly close.

Your head is tucked into my shoulder, one hand steadying yourself against me, the other rubbing slow circles on your breast and nipple knowing how well that was helping before.

A full minute of that contraction passes and I feel some useful movement between your legs.

“Go and do that again” I say as another one picks up. I can see it’s taking all your concentration not to push hard, your hand that is resting on me shaking and passing the vibrations through to me.

“Think you have another one in you?” I ask as that contraction passes, your response practically begs me “Fuck… no, I need to push”

There’s nothing you can do this time as the contraction begins to build, you reach to grab the hand that was playing with your nipple earlier and press it into the mattress with the force of your push.

My hand cupped under you feels success though, your skin seems to peel apart as the head makes its way out of you, the skin rolling back over the head as more and more of it made its way out from inside of you.

“Back at it, quick!” I say as the push ends, and you do so, more of the head seeing fresh air. My hand pressed against your lips slowly moulds the skin back.

You finally relent, the contraction over with, the head now well on its way to a crown. You look into my eyes and can see I almost have tears forming. “You did it babe, you got over this. Might have a full crown in the next contraction.”

You know in your heart you felt everything but need to feel down between your legs to know it was real. You hand scrabbles down and you trace the outline of your opened lips, smiling, clearly approaching exhaustion now.

No time to rest though as another contraction builds.

Your whole hand can fit over the large dome coming out between your legs now—the skin of your vagina stretched in a vertical mountain over the straining head. It sits heavily right at your opening, a slow burn ready to flame to life at the next push. You keep your hand there as the contraction begins to build, feeling how your body squeezes and compresses even before you add any conscious force. You let out a long, slow breath, waiting until the tension grows and intensifies and you absolutely cannot refrain from bearing down with it.

You groan as you finally give into the primal urge, tilting your hips forward and back in time with your pushes, keeping hold of the delicate ring of flesh, alternating between easing it back and releasing it millimeter by millimeter, push after push until a proper crown begins to form.

My hands rub a circular route from my belly to around the curve of your ass, up your thighs, then back again. Suddenly you hold completely still and I follow suit, my hands poised in front of you for whatever you may need. “Mmm,” You moan, the hum echoing through your whole body as you lean forward with your hands pressed into my thighs as you push down, hard. It burns and you let out a strangled whine, but keep pushing. You take a breath and shuffle your knees open wider and push some more. I’m saying something sweet and encouraging, but you’re too focused to really hear it.

“Come on, baby,” you plead again, slumping forward against me as the contraction ends. “Mummy needs you to work with me here.” I tell you to take your time, that there’s no rush, but that’s easy to say when you don’t have a cantaloupe forcing itself out of your body.

“Maybe next one,” I suggest, trying to keep my spirits up.

“Next one,” you agree. It certainly needs to come soon, you’re feeling weary and exhausted with the effort.

Your knees start to hurt again so I help you unfold your legs so that we’re sitting face to face, your spread legs on the outside of mine with me situated in between. I grab a towel and twist it up into a rope, holding one end while offering you to hold the other. “Lean back,” I tell you when the next contraction starts.

“Holy fuck!” you cry, pulling against the towel as your focused on a powerful push and finally feel the head give some more. Your knees instinctually rise so they’re on either side of your belly, and I have a wonderful view of everything that’s happening. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, it’s burning, it’s- babe, fuck!” you’re muttering explicit nonsense in between howls and wails as the intense searing stretch goes beyond whatever you thought possible. Nearly letting go of the towel and the push you suddenly hear me yelling out in my own exhuberant shout.

“It’s crowning!”

Your head snaps up at me, your expression a wonderful mix of joy, wonder, pain, fatigue and probably a dozen other emotions. Your eyes are wide and your mouth lets out a sudden yell - but it doesn’t sound pained as such, more victorious.

As the head reaches its peak, all the burning, searing pain you had been feeling finally relented, your nerves in your skin stretched to their limit and no longer functioning.

Time seemed to stop for you, your brain going a million miles a minute until your focus is back on me yelling at you

“Stop pushing, you’re at your widest, pant it out, please, you didn’t want to tear!”

You follow without thinking, letting out your breath in a slow, slow exhale. It seemed to take forever in that moment of slowed time between us, but suddenly there was a sound that could only be described as a ‘thwack’ as your tightly stretched vagina lips slid back at speed over the baby’s head.

The next moment seemed to take just as long to resolve in my mind.

Firstly jets of amniotic fluid came gushing out from around the head, shooting all the way across to me and coating my chest.

My view was suddenly focused on the back of a head lodged between your legs, said head being slightly cone shaped following its tight passage.

Pools of fluid were still draining out between your legs.

Miraculously you respond first. “Check for a cord” you manage in a croaky voice.

I nod and let go of the towel which you gather up and put to the side of you.

My hands reach down to the baby’s neck and slide down to the gap between it and your lips. I feel nothing caught.

“You’re good, let’s see, I think the head needs to turn now for the shoulders”

I now have a hand under the baby’s head supporting it as I feel you bounce left and right on your ass cheeks as if you’re shifting your weight to either side, the head rotates sideways and I finally get a good glance of the baby’s face.

I look up and once got tears in my eyes as I say to you “baby looks beautiful love.”

You wish you could see it for yourself too, but seeing the love shine through my eyes at our baby’s face is enough for now. You reach down and it’s still surprising that the whole head is outside of your body, that you can trace the outlines of it’s ears, nose, lips and chubby little cheeks. Your eyes well up to match me and I give your belly one last peck before it’s empty again. There’s nothing quite like this feeling, the power and strength of accomplishing such a feat at direct odds with the

softness and vulnerability that comes with being able to really see and touch your child for the first time.

The relief from delivering the head is short-lived as another contraction reminds me that your work is not yet done. The pressure in your stomach is slightly lessened with the release of so much amniotic fluid, but somehow seems to increase in your hips— seems this baby’s got broad shoulders too. You start panting and grip tightly to my forearm, not quite ready to give everything you have into another push just yet. You ride it out, giving low groans through the contraction until the insistent pressure returns and you feel the shoulders nudging at your opening.

“Are you ready?” I ask, alerted to the change in situation by your grip tightening on my arms.

The answer is an easy, “Yes.”

You move your hands to my shoulders to steady yourself and lean into the push. It’s harder than you thought it’d be for your already stretched skin to give way and as a result you let out a determined growl, then release your breath and dive back into another push. I assist with a little tug and that’s all it takes for the shoulders to pop over your tailbone and fill my opening all at once. You scream at the sudden burning stretch, but it only lasts a moment before the rest of the baby slides out quickly and easily on a river of amniotic fluid.

Your senses and emotions are immediately overwhelmed as this little red squalling beautiful thing is placed on your chest. You’re crying and shaking as you cradle it gingerly—it seems so small and vulnerable, and yet those little fists and feet are kicking out angrily at the uncomfortable eviction into this cold, loud, bright world.

“Hi, baby,” you coo wetly, gently patting its back and reaching for me to join us in the moment. I wrap us up in sun-warmed towels and kneel at your side, laughing through tears and peppering kisses all over your face and our baby’s head. You’re so caught up in the moment—the relief and awe and exhaustion and elation—that there’s one thing you missed. You shift the baby’s body a bit and peek under the towel, and the tears renew afresh. “A little boy!” You look back up at me in surprised joy, but I just chuckle—of course I’d already realised that as I lifted the baby up to your chest. “We have a son.” The realization settles over you as comfortably as me arms around your waist, and you have a feeling we’re both thinking the same thing.

We can’t wait to do this again.

After the brief moment of relief and satisfaction washed over us, I realised we had better call the midwife to make sure everything checked out right with the baby. I pulled out her phone and dialled her number to hear it go off just behind us in the house.

She walked out from the cabin we had rented with a broad smile on her face. I suddenly realised I’d handed her a spare key in case she needed to get in quickly and I couldn’t get away from you.

“You guys did really well. I figured things were hotting up when I heard the screams and moans from outside of my place… had to intervene with some hikers who were heading your way wondering what the commotion was all about. Here…”

She handed us both drinks, as I suddenly realised exactly how late it was. I mentally counted up - I’d been awake 6 hours with you, and no idea about how long you had been up during the night.

You handed off the baby to the midwife who clamped and cut the cord, and handed over the cup as you drank thirstily - all that heavy breathing and yelling had left you parched.

“So… I went to double check because I certainly wasn’t expecting you to be doing this out in the open where any old Tom, Dick or Harry could walk past…”

You grinned, feeling your strength return as you drank the liquid.

“It felt natural to do it in nature” you just said.

“Well… baby gets a good clean bill of health, and I dare say mum has come out all but unscathed too. Well done to both of you”

Another hour or so of paperwork, plenty more postnatal checks, and a complete placenta delivery later, we were laid in bed in the cabin, our small family of three, contemplating what we were going to do for the next week in our cabin.

#fpreg #birth kink #labor kink #birth

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bisexual-horror-fan · 11 months ago

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Do-Over-December 20th. Role Reversal. "On The Other Side Of The Knife." Billy Loomis X FEM! AFAB! Reader. "

Now this is a real special one, topping a slasher is always so fucking fun! I need to write it more often, honestly, especially when it comes to Billy Loomis. He is such a slut and I love making him eat it so this is that. Enjoy as we come up on the last stretch of Kinky December.

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Rating, Explicit. Length. 2.1K. (Old Length. 2K.) Warnings. Praise. Role Play. General Ghostface Fuckery. Knife Play. Blood Play. Rope Play. Sub/Dom Dynamics. Hair Pulling. Mentions Of Poly!Ghostface. Voyeurism. Restrained Billy. Submissive Billy. Dom Reader. Face Sitting. Cunnilingus. Dirty Talk. Teasing. Lingerie.

—

It had started off as a joke. Isn’t that how most of these discoveries go?

It’s all fun and games, laugh, laugh, joke, joke and then whoops turns out someone IS into that and just like that, a new kink is discovered.

Still, when it happens to Billy, it is a shock for the both of you. But we are a little ahead of ourselves here.

It had been a great night. A solo-session with the two of you, Stu indisposed for the evening, you loved being with both of them but getting to have Billy all to yourself on occasion was such a treat. You knew that he felt similarly, he loved Stu just as much and sharing you between the two of them was never an issue, it was a damn good time. Having you pinned in the middle was quite the sight to behold, writhing and the way you sounded? Oh my God, forget about that, it was perfection.

But this wasn’t about the to be perfectly honest, wonderful times the three of you had. This was about you and him, and it went very well. A phone call, a chase, you were captured, trussed up, teased, taunted and taken. You were left pleasantly sore, skin slick with sweat, thoroughly satisfied, a little bloody in addition to his cum slowly leaking out of you.

While on your back as he was untying you, pulling the ropes away and tracing the indents that they left in your skin. He was rubbing over the skin soothingly, he had long since ditched the costume, looking down at you affectionately, “You did so good tonight.”

He praised you as one of his hands rubbed over your thigh as he unwrapped the ropes from around your ankle and threw them aside. You were rubbing one of your wrists as you responded, “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

A laugh from him before firing back with a roll of his eyes,“Oof what high praise, baby.”

His hand ran up your leg, he reached out and picked up the knife that was lying on the sheets next to you, he started to crawl over you, knife brandished and held out, “I think you should say something a little nicer to me.”

You smirked up at him and, feeling bold, you decided to challenge him, “Oh, should I now?”

“Mmm.” He hummed as the flat of the blade started to come down to your chest, and you got a very interesting idea.

You reached up, hand coming to the back of Billy’s neck, and you pulled him down, leaning up to kiss him. He melted into it when your lips met, returning it easily, and you slowly took action. Your hand sliding up from his neck and into his hair and nails scratching over his scalp lightly, the soft groan he let out against your mouth was all the signal you needed, your other hand moved quickly and grabbed the knife from his hand. Your fingers threaded into his hair and tugged hard, you broke the kiss and the knife was held to his throat, you were about to tell some dumb joke and continue the banter and teasing-but his reaction made you stop.

The way his eyes flew back open, the slight gasp, how he tensed and that look in his eyes as he stared down at you. Unsure, slight fear, arousal, a look you were sure he had seen painted on your face the first time you two did this when he was the one holding the knife.

“Oh? I think he likes it.” You taunt, you hear him swallow audibly before he responds, “What? Me?”

He tried to say it in that classic and oh so confident way of his, but he couldn’t pull it off this time. Couldn’t hide the shake in his voice, obviously thrown off, or the slight flush on his face.

You decided to experiment a bit further. You tugged again on his hair as you held the knife a little closer to him and his breath caught in his throat, he swallowed thickly again, his tongue darts out to wet his lips nervously, and you couldn’t help the grin that broke out on your face.

Fuck.

Yep, no doubt about it. He liked it. He couldn’t hide it from you.

You eased off shortly after that and did the appropriate thing. You talked about it.

He did like it a lot. And he decided he wanted to try it out, being the victim for once. You could tell he was a little nervous, he wasn’t one to typically give up control, but he trusted you, and he certainly couldn’t ignore how shockingly good it felt when you took that bit of control from him. I mean, really, who could blame him for being curious.

A plan was made, a date set and another night where it was going to be just you and him. Having both you and Stu ganging up on him was a tad too much to handle for his first go with this. You agreed, and besides, you wanted to do this to him on your own.

It was just so fucking good.

The fact he was being this open with you, so vulnerable and trusting was amazing on its own but seeing him like this was the best part. He had given you a lot of free rein with the planning, you knew him well and would figure out his limits together. You had a safe word and signals, and you felt confident. You kind of decided to go all in.

It started as any good role play like this should, with a phone call.

He was waiting for you to come by, little did he know you were already there. Watching him through the window, as you talked to him, the conversation started easily and slowly, claiming to be a wrong number but bored and looking for someone ‘fun’ to talk to. You watched him as he looked around, trying to find where you were before you could strike, it WAS fun watching him go around but managing to keep his tone normal and light, he was a good actor.

You slipped inside easily.

See, part of the fun was figuring out how you would take him down. You had been on the receiving end many a time, and he was so fucking strong and could hold you down no problem. You wanted to genuinely get the drop on him, make it a bit more real. Not only that, but you had led him into the perfect position. Crouching low behind a corner, having a wire pulled taut between the hallway, phone cradled in your shoulder, he was coming, you totally had him.

“Where the fuck are you?!” He had gotten into the bit, playing along perfectly, and you couldn’t help but smile behind your mask. Wouldn’t he like to know?

You held the wire with one hand and knocked on the wall you were leaning on with the other, he obviously heard it, he came down the hallway quicker to follow the sound and you got him. He tripped, and you were on him in a second, he was sprawled on his back, and you were on top of him, seated on his chest. Your thighs are on either side of him, pinning his arms down with your knees, one hand gripping the collar of his shirt, tugging him up, you leaned down, and the cool plastic mask brushed his cheek as you whispered, “Gotcha.”

You sat up, and took him in, hair dishevelled, expression a fantastic mix of scared and nervous, lightly tinged with arousal.

He looked you over. My God, the sight of you in that costume, knife gripped in your fist, it was all too exciting. You loved seeing him under you, he already looked flustered and you hadn’t even done anything… Yet.

“Now that I have you-” Dragging the back of the knife over the side of his face slowly, he squirmed under you,“-what to do with you?”

His gaze broke from the hollow eyes of the mask, face flushed. Looking away and being quiet, that wouldn’t do. You threaded gloved fingers in his hair and tugged hard. His breath hitched, and you felt him shift under you as you spoke, harshly, in a similar tone that he would use on you.

“Look at me.” He hesitated, and you tugged again, “I said-” You had that knife coming down and holding it to his throat as you finished your sentence,“Look. At. Me.”

He did, eyes snapping up to you, and that look made you want. His lips parted and the way he was breathing, you were practically dripping. You let go of his hair, and you leaned back, the knife still held to his throat, your other hand came behind you and you felt him. He was achingly hard in his jeans and when your hand made contact he fucking whined and arched into the touch and that made between your thighs pulse and made your own breath want to stutter. He looked fucking beautiful.

You wanted so much more of this. “Don’t tell me that you are getting off on this.”

You taunted him, doing your best to play the part, and he responded to your teasing with a strained groan as you manipulated him through his jeans. It felt good to be in control.

“Look at you. Obviously loving it. What a little slut.” He actually groaned again when that last word passed your lips, and that had you so very pleased. He was already struggling to hold it together, you could tell. His eyes were pleading for more, but you couldn’t help but focus on his mouth. You were already terribly worked up yourself and in need of relief, and with him laid out in front of you like this, well you’d be a fool not to take advantage.

You let go of him, and he fucking whimpered, head falling back against the hardwood, hips arching, calling out for more contact, and dear Lord you wanted to hear him do that again too. Instead, you tsk’d and said,“Greedy thing. This is about me right now-”

You stood up on your knees, pinning his arms to the floor with more force, and he winced at the slight pain, one hand running up your leg, gathering the smooth black fabric, starting to pull up the robe of your Ghostface costume,“-but I’ll tell you what.”

You moved that knife and ran the tip of it over his bottom lip, your head tilting to the side, hiking the material up even higher, “You be a good victim for me, and I’ll make sure you get what you deserve.”

The bottom of your robe gathered in one fist, he could now see what you had on underneath, and it wasn’t much. Thigh high stockings, sheer and smooth, lace tops and held up with a garter belt, barely there panties and his eyes went wider at the sight.

One important thing you knew about Billy Loomis is he had a terrible weakness for lingerie of any kind, so combining that previous well-worn love of his with this new and exciting territory you were exploring together was mind-blowing. “I’m going to let you have use of your arms, don’t try anything funny.”

He nodded shakily, enraptured, practically dying to see what you were going to do next. You moved forward, getting into position, the hand holding that knife came down between your thighs, two fingers hooked in the crotch of your panties as you still held the weapon and moved your soaked underwear to the side.

“You talked real big on the phone earlier. So many threats and awful things you said, and yet here you are now, quiet as a mouse.” A light laugh from you when he had no response, he looked wrecked and wanting, eyes fixated on your dripping core. You started to touch yourself in front of him, gloved fingers rubbed your clit in soft circles, you arch into your own touch, fingers slide down through your folds and back up again, you could hear how wet you are.

You spoke again, “How about you apologize properly, hmm? Then we can talk about if you are worthy of a reward.”

Your hand fell away, and you lowered yourself down onto his mouth, and his hands were immediately on your ass, eyes falling closed with a moan of pure satisfaction at the taste of you. With your fingers in his hair again, tugging him in closer to your cunt, a grind as your other hand came back, the tip of that knife dragging leisurely up his chest, he shuddered under you upon feeling the cold metal.

“Now be a good boy and get to work.”

#Billy Loomis x reader #Ghostface x reader #Slasher x reader #Do Over December #BHF writing

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sissylittlefeather · 9 months ago

Text

Role Play Part 4: Hello Soldier

A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long!! I don't know what I was thinking trying to write two series at once with one shots and Elvis movie characters too! Blame it on the ADHD. ICYMI, this is the series between 1971 Elvis and a fem!reader who like to experiment in the bedroom with different role plays.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, and infidelity (Elvis is definitely married)

Word count: ~2.3k

Leaving you the last time was harder than Elvis expected. He's very glad to have the photos that he took of you, but it's not enough. Still, he doesn't want to give you the wrong idea, so he doesn't meet up with you. It's also not easy to find time alone with Priscilla there with him. Periodically, she leaves for a short spell and he's able to look at your photos. A couple of times he actually breaks down and calls you just to hear your voice.

Your conversations always last longer than he intends and he usually ends up hanging up quickly when he hears the front door open. It surprises you that he calls, especially after he was so adamant about not being in love with you. But the fact remains that you're in love with him and you know it. It's hard to turn away any amount of attention or time that he gives you. You probably should end it, for your own good, but you just can't. Finally, in the beginning of April, about 6 weeks after the last time you were together, he calls on a Friday afternoon and the excitement in his voice is obvious.

"Hey, baby. Are you busy this weekend?"

"For the whole weekend? No, I didn't have much planned."

"Good. You're coming to Graceland. Cilla went to California for the weekend and took Lisa Marie with her. We have the house to ourselves." The fact that he wants to spend a whole weekend with you is not lost on you. Your heart flip flops at the thought.

"Okay. When should I come over?"

"As soon as you can. And don't forget it's your turn to pick the role play."

"I have an idea." You say playfully.

"I can't wait, honey. I'll see you soon." He hangs up and you get up and pack a bag with a few outfits and toiletries. The last thing you grab is an old nurse outfit you wore for Halloween one year. Before you pack it, you try it on just to make sure it still fits. You look at yourself in the mirror and smile. He's gonna love this one.

******

Elvis is pacing the floor in the living room, every once in a while walking to the piano and sitting down. But he never settles enough to play anything. When you finally pull up, he's smoking a cigarillo and looking out the window. Normally, the house is full of activity, but he's made sure that all of his guys knew to be somewhere else this weekend. The thought of spending two whole days and nights with you is intoxicating. He tries to convince himself that the sex is just that good, but he worries that there's more to it than that. Still, he misses you so much that he can't waste the opportunity to see you.

You walk up to the front door cautiously and knock. The big house is a little intimidating and you don't love that it's where he lives with his wife, but you understand that this is where he feels safe from the prying eyes of the public. And to be honest, at this point you'd go pretty much anywhere just to be with him.

He takes a deep breath to calm himself and then opens the door. He can't let you know how excited he is; it might give the wrong impression.

"Hey, honey. Come on in." He takes your bag from you and then ushers you into the house. Closing the door, he drops your bag on the floor and wraps himself around you affectionately and kisses your hair.

"Did you miss me?" You ask, half-kidding.

"You know I did, baby." He breathes you in and a sense of calm settles in his chest. Why does being around you impact him like this?

******

After a late dinner, you sit at the dining room table talking. It never ceases to amaze you that there always seems to be something to talk about with him.

You finally come to a lull in the conversation and he looks at you and smiles. He's pulled your chair over close to him so he can put his hand on your knee as you talk. He leans over to your ear and whispers.

"I think it might be almost bedtime. What do ya think?"

"Mmmm. Y'know, you're not looking so good." He backs away and gives you a confused look.

"What?"

"I think you need a checkup. I'll call a nurse to come check on you." You wink at him seductively and he catches on.

"Oh! Oh, yeah, I better get upstairs." He feigns illness and you both make your way upstairs. As you walk up in front of him, he smacks your ass.

"Hey! You're supposed to be sick."

"Well, I can't help it when you look like that." At the landing, he grabs you and pulls you into a deep kiss. You push him off you and usher him into the bedroom. When you get in there, you instantly flash back to the first night you were together at the wedding reception. You can't believe you're here again. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, setting his chin on your shoulder.

"Are you thinkin' about the gun lesson?"

"Maybe. Or about the handcuffs." He smiles and kisses your cheek.

"I still have 'em."

"Mmm, you're getting me all distracted. You better go get in that bed and let me call the nurse." He reluctantly pulls away from you and makes his way to the bed. You pull your outfit out of your bag and go in the bathroom to change.

When you open the door and walk towards him, his mouth drops open. Then he sits up quickly.

"Wait! That's an army nurse outfit. Hang on a second." He jumps out of the bed, goes in the closet, and shuts the door. You stand there dumbfounded, not knowing what to expect.

After several minutes he opens the door and it's your turn to drop your jaw. He's fully decked out in his army uniform, complete with hat. The only thing he's not wearing is the boots.

"I can't believe you still have that."

"I can't believe I can still wear it." He puts his arms out and spins around. You feel something in your stomach flip flop. He looks incredible. You consider ditching the role play and just fucking him senseless, but you don't.

"Come get in this bed, soldier. I need to check you out."

"Yes ma'am." He sits on the bed with his back up against the pillows and takes his hat off. You're pretty sure this role play won't last long with him looking as good as he does, but you walk up next to the bed and pick up his wrist.

"I need to check your pulse."

"Oh, I'm sorry ma'am. It's hard to find on that side. You'll have to use the other wrist." He holds up his other arm for you, but doesn't move it towards you, so you have to lean across his body. When you do, he uses his other hand to grab a handful of your ass.

"Sir!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Proceed." You finish pretending to check his pulse and take the fake stethoscope that came with your outfit from around your neck. As you put it in your ears, you make the mistake of looking down at his body. He has a massive and very obvious erection. You clench your thighs together, but it's hard to ignore the wetness there or the way your mouth waters. You're not going to make it much longer.

When you bend over to listen to his heart. He looks down at your cleavage and grunts. He's so ready to have you naked and on top of him. Why did he have to have the grand idea to put on the army uniform? While you listen, he moves his hand to his cock and touches himself just a little bit.

"Sir, what are you doing?"

"I'm sorry nurse, it's just, I'm having the most intense feeling down here and I'm not sure what to do about it."

"Would you like me to take a look?"

"Please, nurse." He smiles coyly and you roll your eyes playfully. You move down his body to his erection and touch it gently, slowly rubbing your hand up and down.

"Does this feel better?"

"A little, but I can hardly feel it through my pants." He licks his lips and tries to smile innocently. You begin to undo his pants and free his cock so that you can take the whole thing in your hands. "Mmm, that's a lot better."

You begin to stroke him, moving his foreskin back and forth. He whimpers and his hips buck up into your hand.

"I have another idea to try and help. Do you mind if I try it?"

"Baby, you can do anything you want to me." You lean over and put your mouth around him and he groans loudly. As you move on him, bouncing up and down slowly, he reaches out and touches you between the legs. When he realizes you're not wearing panties, he runs a finger up your slit and gathers the wetness. "God, you're so wet, honey."

"Mhmmm." You hum as you take him into your throat. At the same time, he pushes one finger into you and begins to pump it in and out. After a few more seconds of this, he pulls his finger out and you whimper a little. He smacks your ass softly.

"Baby, come here." You pull off of him a little, holding him in your hand, and he grabs your ass and guides your hips onto the bed. He scoots down so that he's laying down fully and situates your hips above his face. Then, he pulls your pussy down to his mouth and starts licking your clit. You moan and shudder as the pleasure washes over you and then go back to sucking his cock. You bounce on him quickly as he licks fast circles over and around you. He grunts and you moan as you both approach a climax together, but he pulls back.

"Honey, stop. Focus on what I'm doing. I want you to cum first." You make a disappointed sound, but obey and stop sucking him. He goes back to licking your clit with a new fervor and you lay your forehead on his hip. The sensation of his tongue moving over and around your sensitive bud is almost overwhelming. You feel the blood rush to your core and in just a few more seconds your orgasm slams into you like a freight train, pushing electric ecstasy out to your fingertips.

"Oh, fuck, Elvis, yes!" You cry out as he licks you through your body high. Once you come back down, you climb off of him and both of you sit up and tear at each other's clothing frantically. You can't get naked quick enough and the pieces of his uniform are discarded in a heap next to the bed. He pulls the nurse costume off of you so intensely that he actually tears it in at least one place.

When you finally are naked, he crawls on top of you and drives into you passionately, filling you in one shot and then pumping in and out fervidly. You wrap your legs around his waist and hold onto his shoulders, trying not to dig your nails into his back while he pounds you. There is a desperation and intensity in the way he fucks into you that makes you feel wild. You cry out with each thrust and he lets out a guttural grunt. The sounds are primal and animalistic and they match the pace of his hips slamming against yours. Your skin is hot and wet and you feel like you're on fire in the places where you meet. He kisses your neck and your cheek and your mouth and you bite his bottom lip. He responds by nipping at your neck and the two of you are caught up in each other and the moment so much that you forget anything else exists. There's only you and him and the shared pleasure of your connection. After what feels like an eternity but also not quite long enough, he ruts into you one last time and groans loudly.

"Fuckkkkk yesssss, y/n, yessss." He shudders and pumps weakly a couple more times and then collapses on top of you. You both lay there covered in sweat and trying to catch your breath.

"Goddamn, y/n. You're incredible." He's so lost in you right now that he wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his life having this kind of sex.

"You're not so bad yourself, soldier." You respond playfully, but there's a depth to what you're feeling that scares you a little. He pulls out and rolls off of you onto his side. You roll over to face him and push his sweaty hair back off of his forehead. He runs his fingertips down the side of your face and then swipes his thumb over your lips gently. His affection for you is undeniable at this point and he starts to worry that he might actually be falling in love with you. That was not the plan. This was supposed to be a fling that would last a month or two and be nothing but sex. He decides he'll tell you to go home in the morning. He'll give himself one more night to hold you and then it's over.

It has to be.

******

Until Part 5

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x you #role play

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your-favorite-god · 1 year ago

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Vita nostra aeterna pt 1

Wednesday's child is full of woe, ep 1

I’m not sure whose twisted idea it was to put hundreds of adolescents in underfunded schools run by people whose dreams were crushed years ago… but I admire the sadism.

A monochromatic girl walked the halls of a seemingly normal high school, walking swiftly when she turned and pulled open a locker. Out falls her younger brother, Pugsley.

“ I want names.”

‘I don't know who they were, honest! It happened so fast…”, the boy panics. He didn't want to witness the outcome of whatever his sister did.

“Pugsley, emotion equals weakness. Pull yourself together.” As her brother continued to squirm and whimper Wednesday tried to start a sentence but was rudely interrupted. Images of what had happened before, her head thrown back as she saw the horrid jocks jeering at her little brother while they tormented him. “Wednesday?”

I’m not about to confess to my brother that I’ve recently been plagued by visions. They come on without warning and feel like electroshock therapy, but without the satisfying afterburn.

“Leave this to me”, Wednesday says as she promptly walks away. “Wednesday? What are you gonna do?” Pugsley questions, now free from his restraints.

“What I do best.”

Endears POV:

“Wednesday, you know I always love your company. But is now the time? I was just about to tell Christina what happened at that gathering her precious Jonathan attended before class started”

She stares at me with a bag of piranhas in hand,” Cara, do you still have the peroxyacetic acid you made?” I look at her with a raised brow, “Of course I do, why?”. “Those fools hog-tied Pugsley and shoved him in his locker. I intend to teach them a lesson.”

I can see how this might be confusing for you, allow me to briefly explain. Wednesday Addams is what most would call my best friend.

Soulmate.

Shush ma morelle, anyways, we met a decade ago in the woods. She intruded upon my home and I found her very cute. So I decided to stay with her, my adorable little human. I came with her to her home and have continued to live with her family. I've even joined her in this boring little hovel named school. Or Should I say schools, we’ve been to many. Wednesday has this horrible habit of getting caught.

It’s more satisfying to watch the looks on my victims' faces.

As you can see, Wednesday has no appreciation for subtlety. But we’re just getting to the fun part, so let us get back to it.

“Well then, allow me to raise you a better idea. Thallium in the principal's coffee. I’d prefer to avoid life on the run for now.” Wednesday pauses for a second, then looks at me with her version of loving eyes. “Brilliant mi vida, as always.”

And off we went.

Non, Je ne regrette rien - Edith Piaf | Wednesday Soundtrack | Wednesday drops piranhas in the pool

We had stepped through the doors of the practice room as I heard the jocks mutter to themselves,

“ Yo Dalton look, pigsleys sister and her weird ass friend. Hey, freaks! This is a closed practice!”

Wednesday leveled them with her usual murderous stare as she spoke,” The only person that gets to torture my brother is me.”

Nothing delighted me more than the fear on everyone's faces as she dropped the bag of piranhas into the pool, blood seeping into the normally crystal-blue chlorine-filled water. And that is how we landed ourselves here. In the Addams family car with Wednesday's parents, Morticia and Gomez. They were singing In Dreams as they doted on one another, Wednesday was brooding next to me. Unsatisfied with being shipped away to her parents' former school. “Darling, how long do you intend on giving us the cold shoulder?” Morticia spoke as Gomez continued to kiss her arm and neck.

“Lurch, please remind my parents that I’m no longer speaking to them,” Wednesday replies, making me grin. I love it when she's like this, all petulant and ruffled, most of the time it means I’ll get to play around while she's busy thinking and sulking. Her mother hums as her father tries to persuade his daughter,” I promise you, my little viper, you will love Nevermore. Won’t she, Tish?” “Of course. It’s the perfect school for her. For them both really.” This irks Wednesday as she replies, “ Why? Because it was the perfect school for you? I have no interest in following in your footsteps. Becoming captain of the fencing team, Queen of the dark prom, president of the seance society.” Morticia looks at Wednesday with a serene face, always ever so calm and poised. “I merely meant that finally, you will be among peers who understand you. Maybe you’ll even make some friends.” Gomez looks at Wednesday with his signature grin,” Nevermore is like no other boarding school. It’s a magical place. It’s where I met your mother.” “and we fell in love.” They look at each other with this mutually infatuated gaze and sigh. Wednesday's eyes darken, if that's possible,” You guys are making me nauseous. And not in a good way.” They looked at her again” Darling, we aren’t the ones who got you expelled. That boy’s family was going to file attempted murder charges. How would that have looked on your record?” Wednesday looked off as her eyes widened slightly,” terrible. Everyone would know I failed to get the job done.” At that I couldn't keep it in, I chuckled as the little family smirked at me. Save for Wednesday of course who was still very occupied with her brooding.

My my, this was going to be a fun new adventure. I can feel it.

As we drove through the strong… iron… gates of this new school, morticia made mention od the weather. An admirable attempt at small talk through the thick silence, normally i would be the one to break it but wednesday specifically told me to give her parents the cold shoulder. If I’m being honest i dont entirely understand why but she looked so cutr and annoyed when she asked in her own way. How did she word it again? Oh yes, i was to be silent or else she would lock me in a tower and take all my jewelry. And my tongue.

3rd POV

Finally the small family unit had made it to the principals office, greeted by Larissa weems.

“Wednesday is certainly a unique name, i'm guessing it was the day you were born?” she spoke with a grin, after everyone had taken their appropriate seat. Save of course for endeara, she preferred to stand. Tall in her red bottom pumps and silk blouse, she had taken her place behind wednesday, gazing at her new principle with a veiled look of boredom and small smile.

“I was born on friday the 13th.” wednesday quickly rectified, as morticia followed, “Her name comes from a line from my favorite nursery rhyme, Wednesdays child is full of woe.”

“You always had a unique perspective on the world morticia, did your mother tell you we used to be roomates?” Principle weems said fondly, her welcoming facade staying strong through the addam’s penetrating gazes.

“And you graduated with your sanity intact? Impressive.” wednesday spoke again. The topic quickly changed as the principle spoke of her and endearas “interesting educational journey.”

“Eight schools in five years?” Weems questioned,” They havent built one strong enough to hold us. I’m sure this one wont be any different.” wednesday replied with her same bluntness. Endeara simply smiled as her parents bristled and were about to reply,” Thats just wednesdays way of trying to say she is very excited for this new opportunity. As am i, and thank you for giving us such a gift.” their new principle seemed to fully take in endeara then, all elegance and playful smiles as she dressed in her small red bottomed pumps and silk black blouse.

“Nevermore doesn’t usually accept students mid-term, but given their perfect grades and your family’s long history with the school, I’ve spoken with the board and we’ve made an exception.” Weems said simply as the addams parents joined hands in satisfaction, “what about their um,... therapy sessions? The court ordered them.” morticia eyed her daughter as she spoke, hesitant to ask. “The school school has a relationship with a therapist in jericho, she can meet twice a week.” they all looked to wednesday as gomez spoke,” did you hear that my little storm cloud? Youre in excellent hands.”

“We’ll see if she survives the first session” wednesday quipped back, her gaze unwavering to the woman in front of her as mortica and endeara grinned at her as well.

The principle resumed again, unbothered. Truly impressing endeara as she spoke again,” ive assigned wednesday to her mothers old dorm. Ophelia hall.” morticia gasps and chuckles excitedly as wednesday turns to her and says,” refresh my memory. Ophelia’s the one who kills herself after being driven mad by her family, correct?” morticia nods happily as the principle leans forward with a plastered grin

“Shall we go meet your new roommate?’

Endearas POV

We go to wednesdays new dorm and its… something. The family is stunned as morticia speaks,” its so… vivid.” The girl, the new roommate, looks at me and gasps excitedly “Howdy roomie!” and i have to bite my lips from cackling. I mean this is just beautiful, but our principle steals all the fun and introduces wednesday. “wednesday , this is enid sinclair.” Enid looks to from me to wednesday confused, maybe even disappointed, as she asks,” are you okay? You look a little pale.” and mortica smiles as she explains,”wednesday always looks half dead.” “its genetic” i whisper, smiling at the girl. Enid goes in for a hug from wednesday as we both step back, she looks disheartened as she mumbles,” not a hugger. Got it.” morticia pipes up again,”please excuse wednesday. She’s allergic to color.” enid looks shocked,” oh wow. What happens to you?”

“I break out in hives and then the flesh peels from my bones.” this is when our principle speaks again,” luckily weve special ordered your and endears new uniforms. Enid, please take them to the registrar’s office to pick it up along with her schedule, and give them a tour along the way.”

I whisper quietly to Wednesday, ”If they dare put me in cheap, scratchy, suffocating material…i will raze this school to the ground.” Wednesday almost smirks as the Addams look at me in pride and the other two look at me in horror. This tour better be good.

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itsohh · 3 months ago

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QWERTY Part 4

A/N: Female reader.

Summary: On your flight to Russia you meet Vladimir Makarov himself and he takes an interest in you.

Word count: 887

Warnings: None

AO3 Masterlist Part 3 Part 5

RUSSIA 2017

“It really is beautiful.” You looked out of the plane window with a mumble.

“Should have seen it when I was a boy.” A voice caught your attention and you turned to your side. Being in business class allowed you a decent amount of room so that you didn't have to interact with your fellow passengers very much. If at all. Yet the voice next to you seemed adamant about breaking that.

“Oh?” You paused the audio that was on your phone and pulled the headphones from your neck onto your lap. Perhaps if it had been anyone else you would have just shrugged them off. His accent alone made you think twice. To give the man your full attention, you turned your entire body to look at him. “Are you from Russia?” You asked, curiosity written on your face.

“I am.” He looked past you through the window. “It is my home.” He looked back at you and his eyes met yours.

“Can you tell me about it then? About how it used to be?”

“When I was young Russia was a lot colder. Stronger but colder. People's bonds kept us together and we did what we had to do. There was never any hesitation.”

Your head leaned against your chair as you continued to listen.

“It wasn't perfect, of course, but we were close to it. Now these days it's warmer and our bonds have melted away. We rely on other countries for what we could do ourselves.”

“You want them to off Russia?” You asked and his lips curled upwards.

“No, there is use in working with others. But bending over backwards for political relations when we have the power to lead?” His eyes sized you up for a moment. His eyes debated to speak more. Perhaps it was the genuine interest on your face that made him continue.

“Corruption, greed and an inability to account for one's mistakes were the reasons we have fallen so far. That and poor planning.” That fire in his eyes simmered down and his voice lightened. “But let's not tarnish your trip with mistakes of the past no? Tell me, why'd you come to visit?”

You pressed your lips together. “A friend of mine suggested it. I had uh… trouble at my last job. She said a change of pace might be good.”

“You're planning to stay a while?”

Your brows raised slightly and you blinked at his question. “I might, I haven't decided yet. How did you..?”

“We've been next to each other for a few hours now I've noticed what you're listening to. An intermediate-level Russian audiobook and I've heard your mumbles under your breath. I doubt you would bother learning a language unless you planned to commit.”

“Wow, you're really perceptive. Yeah, I haven't booked a return flight yet.”

“You're looking for something in Russia? Yourself I presume?”

“Oh no, I'm not-” You let out a small laugh before you continued. “I'm not travelling to find myself or some shit. I…” You glanced away and cut yourself off. “You're very easy to talk to, you know that? I feel like I could tell you my entire life story and I don't even know your name.”

He let out a low chuckle. “I have that effect on people if I'm honest I feel the same way. It's not very often I have such a beautiful woman listen to my thoughts about my home.”

You glanced down and then you felt a small contact that made you freeze. His finger lightly pressed on your lower chin and directed it upwards.

“My apologies, I just had to look into those eyes of yours.”

Your breath hitched and you swallowed before you whispered out your first name.

“Vladimir, it's a pleasure to meet you.” He offered you his hand to shake but when you accepted it he didn't shake it but brought it up to his lips to plant a kiss.

“Perhaps when we land I could show you around. Maybe help find what you're looking for.”

“Oh, I couldn't possibly- you must be a very busy man. I couldn't possibly waste your time like that.”

“You know, time is a very precious thing- every second counts. You are quite right about wasting time, it's always important not to. I assure you, it would be my pleasure to help you explore my country and perhaps ah help improve your Russian.” He smiled but didn't let go of your hand. His thumb gently stroked the top of your hand.

“...I would like that.”

The flight descended and soon you found yourself behind Vladimir as you exited the plane through the back. “Wow…” You breathed as you took in the sight. Even at the airport, you could appreciate the country.

“Quite different from Australia?” Vladimir slowed his pace so he walked next to you.

“How did you..?”

“Your accent of course. You might have lost it a little but it's still rather strong.”

“Ah. I see.” You glanced away and you could feel his eyes bore into yours.

“You don't sound pleased about that.”

“You're a very passionate man about your country, I wish I could say the same about my own.”

“You don't like Australia?”

“It's not home to me.”

“What is?” He asked but you didn't reply.

#vladimir makarov x reader #makarov x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #mw3 x reader #modern warfare 3 x reader #modern warfare 3

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hannahbarberra162 · 5 months ago

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Can't Fix Fix A Broken Heart, Chapter 8

18+, MDNI

Now on Ao3

All chapters

Things get explicit in this chapter. Yandere in full force.

TW dubcon, mental and emotional manipulation, mentions of past abuse, mentions of past SA.

Y/N POV

You heard Marco calling to you from the hallway. You didn’t know how he had found you, but he sounded angry. You came out of the closet and saw a cross Marco with his arms folded across his chest. You fought the urge to grovel immediately but did start pinching your fingers. You didn’t know what you did - but you’d do anything to get him to stop scowling at you.

“Y/N.”

“Hi Marco.”

“Why are you sleeping in the supply closet?”

“Oh. Um. I guess I just got sleepy and took a nap here? Sorry, it won’t happen again,” you said sheepishly.

“Wrong answer.”

“Ah, um…I don’t…I didn’t…um…” You floundered. Marco had never taken this kind of tone with you and you didn’t know what to do. You were starting to panic.

“Oh, Y/N, what are we going to do with you?” sighed Marco, putting his face in his hand and shaking it from side to side. “My brothers and I have really put ourselves out there for you. We saved you from the Marines, we brought you to our ship, we’ve helped you in so many ways. This is the thanks we get?”

“I am thankful! I really, really am! I’m so grateful for everything everyone has done.”

“It doesn’t feel that way. Why didn’t you tell me that you were having trouble sleeping? That you were sleeping in closets and cupboards? That you can’t sleep without your back to the wall? Do you think we can’t help you? That I can’t help you? That I’m not a good doctor? That I don’t care for my siblings? Is that what you think of us?”

“No! No, I just… Marco, please, I… j-just didn’t think it was import–”

“It IS important, Y/N. Why should we keep helping you if you don’t trust us?”

“I d-do trust you! I do!” you were close to crying from the tension radiating off Marco.

“I don’t know if we can continue to have someone on our ship that we can’t trust. That doesn’t trust us. I think our time together may have come to an end. I will inform Whitebeard on your behalf.” Marco turned his back to you and started to walk away.

You were bawling now, you didn’t want to leave the ship.You didn’t have anywhere else to go and if you left you’d have no one and and and…so you called out “wait, Marco!” Marco stopped, but didn’t turn towards you. You ran up to him and grabbed his hand from behind. He allowed you to take it but remained turned away from you.

“What, Y/N?”

“P-p-please, isn’t there anything I can d-do? T-t-to show that I t-trust you? I don’t wanna b-b-be k-k-kicked o-o-out, p-p-please..” you were sobbing so hard you couldn’t form words without stuttering.

“Well,” he said, moving his head from side to side in thought “I suppose if you showed your trust in us..”

“P-p-please!”

“No more secrets, Y/N. You have to be completely honest with us.”

“O-of course, w-whatever you want to kn-know.” You were still crying but were starting to hope that Marco would forgive you.

“And since it seems you can’t take care of yourself properly, you need to surrender that task to us. You need to listen to us when we tell you what’s best for you. I’ll meet with my brothers and we can set some rules for you to follow so you can earn our trust.” You weren’t sure what that meant exactly, but you would have agreed to let him rip out and eat your still beating heart if he asked for it.

“Y-y-yes, ok, thank you M-Marco. Thank you.” You nuzzled his hand in thanks, trying to deepen your breathing.

He turned his body all the way towards you his expression softened. He cupped your face in both of his large hands. “I know you don’t mean to hurt us, Y/N. I want you to be our good girl, and I think you want that too, isn’t that right?”

You nodded your head up and down in his hands.

“I know the perfect way you can start to earn back my trust.”

“H-how?” your crying had stopped but you were still hiccuping your words.

“Kiss.” he commanded and brought his lips crashing down on yours.

Ace POV

Ace had overheard an emotional conversation in the hallway and had cracked his door to see what was going on. He watched as Marco ordered you out of the closet and began speaking sternly to you. Ace’s eyes opened a little wider - he hadn’t known you were sleeping there. If he had found you in there, he’d have taken you straight to his bed. He decided to stay hidden and see what happened.

Listening to Marco talk to you was a masterclass in manipulation. Marco had maneuvered you so well, so easily and you hadn’t noticed a thing. Ace knew Marco wasn’t worried about your loyalty, but you sure didn’t. He had gambled on your insecurities and won the grand prize. Now they were all able to collect. Finally, they’d be able to have you in the way they had wanted.

As he watched Marco kiss you in the moonlight and knew he’d be doing the same, and soon. You looked like a little angel, all breathless and submitting yourself willingly to Marco. He handled his growing bulge over his pants, fondling himself to your teary- eyed kiss. The scene was too hot for him to endure untouched, so he took his cock out and started slowly stroking himself from base to tip. He was leaking precum just from watching a kiss, like he was a teenager. He imagined it was himself kissing you, fondling you, getting to touch you. He pumped his cock a little bit faster as you started making small sounds from Marco’s hands traveling over your neck, shoulders, and down your front. He imagined the sounds you would make around his cock as you rode him, how he would bite your neck, suck on your nipples, give you marks to let everyone know he was there. That he would always be there.

Y/N POV

Marco’s kiss was all encompassing. All you could think about were his lips as they expertly kissed your own. He had caught you off guard- your mouth had been closed. He licked at the seam of your lips, wanting you to open. You opened your mouth slightly and he pushed his tongue inside. He was still holding you in place, kissing you at his pace. He was in control and was showing you what he wanted. You followed his lead, kissing him back. You wanted to show that you wanted this too, that you wanted them, that they didn’t need to get rid of you. You tried to pour all that emotion into your side of the kiss.

When he stopped kissing your mouth and started feathering light kisses down the column of your neck. His hands were roaming all over you - your arms, neck, and starting to creep up your stomach. “Ah, Y/N, I knew you’d be worth the wait.” You couldn’t answer - your breath was coming in short gasps as his kisses trailed downwards. “Let’s go somewhere private - I wouldn’t want anyone else to enjoy the show yoi.” Marco cocked an eyebrow towards one of the open doors briefly but you didn’t see anyone.

With that, Marco threw you over his shoulder and took long strides to his room. Once in, he sat down on a loveseat and put you in his lap, facing him. “Come here, Y/N, show me how good you can be.” He began kissing you again, moving from your lips to your neck down to your collarbones. You started to let out small whimpers. You couldn’t help yourself - you knew you were incredibly wet. You started moving and grinding on Marco, hoping for some friction.

Marco was kissing your shoulder, and had started putting his hand up the hem of your shirt, teasing your lower back with light touches. “Ah, wait. I don-” You tried to object. Kissing was one thing, but showing your back was another. No one had seen it in years, it was a source of deep shame and humiliation. You wanted to keep your shirt on for now.

“Y/N, this is the exact kind of thing we need to be working through,” Marco said with a frown. “I thought you had agreed to listen to us yoi,” he continued. He gripped you by the shoulders and stopped your movements on him. You realized belatedly you were grinding on his cock - and he was huge. There was no way it would ever fit…but you refocused back to the present. Your back? You gulped - was this what he needed from you? So he could trust you? You could do it, you thought, trying to gather your own courage. It was just skin, and he’d seen scars before.

Marco had changed the position of his hands, holding your thighs down to prohibit your rocking. “You can take it off” you said in a small voice, looking down at your lap. Marco flashed a smile at you as he raised your shirt off your body.

You lifted your arms and Marco pulled it all the way off. He ran his hand over the middle of your back and paused. You hoped he would continue to tease and kiss you, but he just picked you up and faced you the other direction away from him so he could see your back better. He was examining it silently. You knew it had killed the feeling in the room from the way he was looking at it. He reached out a finger to touch the angry red, raised lines. He touched one and you hissed a little - they were extra sensitive lately. He just looked at you silently for a few moments. Marco didn’t say anything but sat you down next to him, off his lap.

You hung your head in shame. You couldn’t look at him. Not only had he seen your back, but you had disappointed him. He didn’t trust you. You had another crew’s logo on you. He didn’t want you anymore, he thought you were ruined. You were ruined, just like you were told. You were going to be sent back, discarded like the trash you were. You just waited for Marco to tell you to collect your things.

‘Y/N, what is this yoi?” he said in a soft voice. He was being gentle with you, delicately touching parts of your scar that were less raised.

“It’s old scar tissue, it’s healed now.”

“What’s it from?”

“Most of it is a branding from when I was on that pirate ship. They - they burned their jolly roger on me. Some of it is from a whipping the Marines gave me. Those are the more recent marks.”

“Why did they whip you?”

“Escape attempt.”

“Do they hurt yoi?”

All the questions were digging into your deepest sources of shame. You wanted to be strong but you started crying again.

“Y-yes. I think they don’t let me stretch my skin enough back there. It always feels tight. I’m not really sure, I try not to look at it.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m s-sorry M-m-marco. I really tr-tried to be g-good for y-you. I’m j-just r-ruined.”

“You’re not ruined, this wasn’t your fault,” he said absently as he continued gently touching your back. You couldn’t see, but you felt a pleasantly cool sensation along some of your scars. Was he trying to heal you? The flip between the harsh Marco of before to the sensual Marco to this soft Marco had you so confused. You didn’t know how he was going to take anything. You let him look in silence. He broke it by quietly asking “why did they brand you, not tattoo you?”

You gave him the answer you had been told, in a deadpan voice “Crew get tattoos, property gets branded.”

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strangelittlestories · 9 months ago

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It was somewhere around a year into the apocalypse when the Lion and the Lamb found what they had long been looking for: a very remote (and thus largely unpillaged) and *very fancy* hotel.

(Lion and Lamb were the names I knew them by, at least. We met at a wedding - always a strange event in the end times - and they did not give me their true names. This was, honestly, a wise move given the kind of entity I am. But they did gift me with this anecdote, which perhaps reveals more about them than a simple name could.)

After scouting the place out - and bloodily evicting a small pack of ghouls that had gotten separated from the horde and (hopelessly lost) wandered into the hotel spa - the pair climbed the many steps to the building’s palatial penthouse suite.

There, they found many wondrous treasures. Fluffy bathrobes. Tiny sachets of shampoo. A bed so large it should probably have been illegal.

And, of course, a little peace and quiet.

---

“What do you think the thread count on these sheets are?” Asked Lamb.

“Do I look like the kind of person who understands thread count?” Lion was already lying in the bed, starfishing her limbs out across the pillowy expanse.

“It’s just…this might be the softest thing I’ve ever felt. This has got to be four hundred. Maybe even five?” Lamb’s brow wrinkled for a moment. “Hey - would you mind if I take this with us when we leave?”

“What’s the matter? You already afraid to go back to scratchy blankets and sleeping bags?” Lion grinned, while twisting the top off a little bottle of Jack Daniels. A small pile of tiny liquor bottles lay beside her; across the room, her axe rested against the sundered mini bar.

“No, I uh-” Lamb looked sheepish. “I was thinking it’d make for good bandages.”

Lion paused with the mini bottle of Jack on her lips. She made steady eye contact with Lamb as she downed the bottle, then threw it casually to one side.

“You want to take the sheets off this bed.” She sat up and calmly took hold of Lamb’s arm, pulling him close. “This bed that may as well be made of clouds. These covers that were probably hand spun by gods or artisanal Shoreditch arseholes. This bed that may be the last gift from a now-absent god, and which - by the way - we have not even hugged in yet…”

“Well, when you put it like that-”

“You want to take the sheets off this bed - this bed that is larger than some countries - and tear it up for stab wounds and bullet holes?”

“I just-”

At this point, Lion yanked on Lamb’s arm and he tumbled awkwardly into the aforementioned bed, rolling over Lion and landing nestled snugly in the crook of her shoulder. It was somewhere between a cuddle and a headlock and, if we’re being honest, Lamb really didn’t mind that.

Some time passed. We need not discuss how it passed, let us simply say that it did and that, for the Lion and the Lamb, its passage was necessary, healing and only mildly bruising.

Lamb sighed happily and said:

“I just thought. Y’know, about the bandages. That … well, dangerous shit happens to us so often. It’s really easy to get used to being scared. To being hurt. So I figured it might be nice, y’know, if when we were patching each other up, we had something soft to do it with. So that even when it hurts the most, we can *practise* being soft. And it’d be something that reminded us of this. This perfect day we stole for ourselves. A happy memory to literally bind up the hurt with.” Lamb looked shyly up at Lion. “It probably sounds silly. Or soppy. But, well. I am those things sometimes.”

Lion leant down and gently and carefully kissed Lamb on the forehead.

“Okay.” She said, in a voice roaring with love. “We can destroy the sheets when we’re done.”

“Thanks.” Said Lamb. “I knew you’d cotton on.”

And, even despite the pun, Lion could not have been happier.

#writing #microfiction #flash fiction #short story #love stories for the end times #love story #honestly even writing this made me make little d'awwww sounds so I really hope y'all like it

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sugusatosluut · 10 months ago

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“Just another casualty”

Suguru Geto x Fem!reader smut

When you started jujutsu high with Satoru and Suguru, you had a blast getting to know them. Catching the train after school, skipping Yaga’s class on Wednesdays, grabbing lunch together during your free hour.. it used to be so much fun until you started to get assigned missions. One mission really got to Suguru though. Protecting the star plasma vessel for Tengen. Even though you tried your best to console Suguru, you couldn’t begin to imagine how the trauma was affecting him, he ultimately uttered his last hurtful words to you which ended your relationship with him.

Today, you and Satoru’s students were lured to see Suguru, who wanted Yuuta Okkotsu all to himself to use against non-sorcerers and of course, take out the strongest himself, Satoru Gojo. On the way to find Yuuta’s student ID, you and Satoru engaged in a private conversation as you watched the students look around.

“It wasn’t on you to make him stay. It was my fault. I should have pushed harder. Tried harder. Suguru was my best friend and I let him down.” Satoru sighed standing next to you.

“It’s not your fault either. Sometimes people are experts at hiding their pain until they think they are utterly alone. Suguru was one of those people. I’m sure Yuki didn’t intend serious malice with what she said to Suguru.. but words have meaning to people who aren’t usually in the right headspace after a lot of trauma. At the end of the day none of us knew he was going to wipe out his entire village. Hurt people, hurt people Satoru.” You spoke softly.

“I know.. I know the two of us could only wish that we were there or could change how things played out, but there’s no use of us beating ourselves up about it. I can only tell you I’m here for you in the way that I should have been from the start. The way we wished we could have been for Suguru.” He gave you a smile while taking your hand in his.

“Thanks Satoru.” You smiled.

“Hey, weird question but were those rumors ever true? The ones about you and Suguru?” He chuckled.

“Oh- y-yeah. They were. I’m a little embarassed but we were very horny teenagers. We may have teased and taunted eachother but underneath all that aggravating banter was quite a lot of sexual tension. That’s why we seemed like good friends after a while.”

“Hmm.. okay. I only bring it up because one time Suguru briefly brought up something called the “jackhammer”..”

“Oh-god Satoru stop right there.” You chuckled at him.

“I’m just curious.” He chuckled back at you.

You decided to whisper to him what it was, Satoru’s face turning a deep red at the description of you and suguru’s ‘jackhammer’ term.

You both were laughing quietly to yourselves as you both heard the haunting voice of Suguru.

“Keeping secrets are we? I thought I knew you better than that y/n.” Suguru smiled

You froze, the last moments you spent together suddenly replaying through your head.

5 years ago

“Suguru-I can’t explain to you how bad this sounds right now. You killed your whole village? Stay where you are I’m coming to you.” You said panicked.

You heard from Yaga, Shoko and Satoru about what he’d done. They knew he’d pick up for you and only want to see you, so they told you the information knowing you’d venture out to see him. Little did you know this would be your last time seeing your boyfriend.

You and Geto had something you’d always dreamed of, you were always very clear and and honest with eachother, but Suguru’s actions really led you into a full fledged panic. You couldn’t believe he’d done something like this. You waited until he opened the door for you, his head tired and barely poking out the crack of the door. His face perked up a bit when he realized it was you. He looked exhausted. The Suguru Geto you knew was always calm, this Suguru that stood before you was something different.

He wasted no time, his kisses flooding your body as he pulled your body close to his warm one, his strong arms holding you flat and tight against his chest. You didn’t dare talk, this was his time right now, he was emotional, he needed comfort and if this was how he wanted to do it, so be it. You would do anything to see him smile or be as happy as he once was again.

Suguru’s long big fingers traced shapes on your back as he placed you on top of him, your bodies on the couch together as he rutted his hips into yours, grinding in a way that had you fully entranced. You couldn’t explain it but his golden brown eyes were so hypnotic and enchanting, all he had to do was ask and you’d be on your knees doing whatever he asked of you. He opened your blouse, his eyes grazing over your facial features before pulling the cup of your laced bra down and attaching his lips to your sensitive nipple. Your moans filled the air, high pitched sounds sounding like music to Suguru’s ears. You couldn’t help but close your eyes as he had one hand on your hip holding you down as he created friction, and the other was gripping your other breast. Suguru was ecstatic, smiling as he sucked harder and groaned with slightly parted lips at how nasty you let him be with you. He eventually had enough of this prolonged clothed friction and stopped himself. You both got up, taking all of your clothes off back to back. You were only in the lace panties as you turned around to face Suguru. Your eyes were hopeful as he smiled at you. The kind of grin he does when he’s content with what’s happening. The closed eyes, the small curve upwards of his lips that don’t dare to show teeth. His long eyelashes made it so hard to resist. He turned back towards the fireplace, then back at you. He gently motioned you back to the couch, your body taking a position in which Suguru now had you sitting, but folded. Your legs sat on his shoulders as his lips placed kisses on your pussy.

He looked up at you with a smirk as he licked a strip up your puffy clit as a small test run. Your small mewls escaping your lips made him grin with satisfaction. He couldn’t wait any longer, slurping and lapping at your hole. He shoved two of his fingers down your throat and the sound of you gagging just released something within him. He stood up, his six foot three inch figure standing over you.

“C’mere.. Get on your knees.” He smirked

You obeyed, because giving Suguru any type of satisfaction was always on your mind. He was taking in the view as he slid his throbbing angry pink tip all over your lips.

“Good girl y/n. So slutty and beautiful just for me.”

You parted your lips slightly.

“Relax your throat, take all of me.”

He slid his cock down your throat at a slow pace, then gripped your head tightly as he fucked your face. The small gagging sounds only making him become more rough as he pulled your head back and forth. He was getting close, you could tell.

“Up bunny.”

He took his placed on the couch, lying on his back. You got on top of him and his cock slid up and down your slit. This was perfect, you were perfect. Suguru didn’t want this to end, but it was far too much for him to ask you to run away with him.

You sunk down on his cock, yelping.

“Y/n, did I hurt you?”

“No, Suguru just keep going I can do it.” You closed your eyes.

“Ride me my little bunny.”

You both were panting, Suguru couldn’t take it anymore as he held your waist tightly. He thrusted up into you and the feeling in your stomach intensified.

“I’m-“

“Me too.” He said. His trusts becoming sloppier and sloppier. Finally, it felt like fireworks as both of you came. Suguru held you tightly before letting you pick your upper body up, still allowing his cock to stay inside you. You caressed his face and he pulled you in for what would ultimately be your final kiss.

He looked ashamed.

“Suguru, what’s on your mind?” You asked. You got up, letting his cock slide out of you. You grabbed a wrobe that he kept for you on the coat hangar.

“Y/n. You’re a non sorcerer.” He sighed.

“Okay.. everybody knows that. What’s your point?” You chuckled. It was a nervous one. You could tell he was serious.

“We can’t do this anymore. We can not keep pretending this will work. In your head, you think we’re perfect— that I can protect you around every bumpy road. You’re a non sorcerer. You rely on special grade weapons and you’ll only get in the way. You’re just another casualty y/n. That’s all you are to me now.”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces, but if this is what Suguru wanted, you’d let him have this last wish.

“okay.. you win.” You smiled weakly at him, tears threatening to fall from your waterline. It really broke his heart I say these awful things to you.

You put your clothes back on before straightening your emotions out. This is the part where you’d walk away for good.

#getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk suguru #suguru geto smut #getou suguru x you

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moonstruckloverwritings · 2 years ago

Note

What would dating Sean Diaz (LiS 2) include? :0 if you wanna do that one! I bet he’d use a lot of Spanish nicknames for female s/o LOL

Dating Sean Diaz Would Include..

Authors note: I was definitely planning to do lots of life is strange posts so no worries! And you’re completely right on that one. He definitely would! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Sean’s song to Reader:

Intro:

Ok so I think Sean would be very chill and at the same time very open and gentle in his way of loving someone.

Some things depend on if when you’re dating it’s before the events of Seattle or after. Or if you’re with them and seeing his character development for yourself.

I do think he would be very protective no matter which version of that is.

He’d want to be there in every way. If it’s protecting you from someone or something else or even from your own thoughts. Cause let’s be honest we all have our moments when we aren’t as kind to ourselves as we should be. And he’d be right there! Hence the song

Would most definitely call you “Mi vida” meaning “My life”

Before the incident:

If you’re dating before the events of Seattle then I see so many movie nights with popcorn and snuggly blankets. Daniel would always want to be right in the middle 😁 Sean would try to send him away unless you told him different. Sean’s dad, Esteban, would walk by making teasing comments every so often but all in good fun.

If you guys went to parties he’s definitely the show off type when it comes to you. Introducing you to everyone that talks to him. You’ll probably never really talk to these people again after the party and he knows that, it’s just a way for him to say “I love this person and no one else!” to people so they don’t get any ideas.

100% loves to draw you. You are his muse whether you realize he’s drawing you or not. (You know he’s drawing you but he doesn’t always know that you know. He thinks it’s genuine when you pretend to be surprised as he hands it to you.)

Laying on his bed sharing earbuds and listening to the music in silence is something he loves to do because just being in each other’s presence is special to him. He loves spending any kind of time with you.

After the incident:

Now if you’re dating him during/after the incident/journey to the boarder, he’s a bit different.

His protectiveness is a lot more heightened. Nothing will get past him when it comes to you or Daniel.

And as much as their dad is still their dad, he has taken on some kind of parental figure over Daniel so it would make sense that you both took on those roles.

Talking with each other about what’s the best plan of action when it comes to Daniel is a frequent conversation. Talking with you about wether they should go to their grandparents for medicine for Daniel was a big one.

You both are pretty much in a rush trying to survive and get to Mexico that it put a pause on your relationship. You were still together but there was now things that were more important and you didn’t really think about other things. That was until you both were able to settle down at the farm.

Things at the farm weren’t completely perfect but you both had the chance to feel normal again. Or at least as much as you could.

Coffee in the mornings, swimming at the lake, cuddling at the campfire with the others, playing that pirate ship game that Daniel says he out grew is a normal routine for you guys.

Also I just feel like he loves kissing your forehead/the top of your head. He does it very frequently.

He’s also a big hand holder. If you’re walking and let go of his hand, he is offended! ☝️

“What are you doing? Give me back your hand.” 🤝 “good, now let’s go.”

All in all, he’s very sweet and loves you greatly. He’d do anything for you and Daniel. Whatever it takes.

#headcanon #x reader #x y/n #x you #spotify #headcanons #life is strange #life is strange 2 #Sean #sean diaz #dating #include #would include #dating would include #protective

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bluerose5 · 8 months ago

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Fenris, taking a seat by the fire: Finally, some peace and quiet.

Astarion, definitely not buzzed from blood with the Happy condition attached: Oh, Fenris, yoo-hoo! *waves at him as they stumble over*

Fenris: And... There it went.

Zevran, definitely not buzzed from raiding the camp supplies with the Bloodless condition attached: There you are! We—We have been looking everywhere for you...

Fenris: How I wish you weren't. *sighs* Well, you found me.

[They plop down next to him, one on each side.]

Zevran: Now, 'what should we do with you' is the question we are all asking ourselves, yes?

Fenris, deadpan: Would the answer be, 'put me out of my misery'?

Astarion: Ha! No, silly. What a waste of a perfectly handsome elf.

Zevran: Speaking of which, Astarion and I have a wager, you see.

Astarion: A fun one at that.

Fenris: You don't say.

Zevran: Yes, quite! You see, at the beginning, we bet on which one of us could get you to kiss him first.

Fenris: Why am I not surprised?

Zevran: Let us be honest with ourselves. It was an inevitability, only a matter of time before it happened naturally. We are all handsome elves, traveling together, fighting at each other's side, bonding and what-not. A kiss is not so far-fetched a notion if you're up to it, of course.

Fenris: I see.

Astarion: Anywho, that was the original wager.

Fenris: And the new wager?

Astarion: A simple change really, because why deprive any of us of the other’s touch? You should kiss us both and decide who the better kisser is. We promise not to take your decision personally.

Zevran: A win-win situation for us all.

Fenris: Heh, you know what, you're right. *shrugs* Why not?

Astarion: If you don't want to, then no— Wait, what?!

Zevran: Really?!

Fenris, nodding: Although, this is kind of pointless. There is no competition, after all.

[Fenris leans in and, at the last second, changes direction to press a lingering kiss to Zevran’s forehead, followed by one to Astarion's. He smirks at them when he pulls away, getting to his feet.]

Fenris: Because I give the best kisses. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go train some with Lae'zel.

[They gape as they watch him go, scrambling to their feet as they chase after him.]

Zevran: Wait! I think we need another! Just to be sure!

Astarion: Surely one more wouldn't hurt anyone!

#dragon age #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #dao #da2 #astarion #astarion ancunin #fenris #zevran #zevran arainai #crossover #bluerose writes #some fenris forehead kisses would fix me i think #trauma elf trio #love the idea of zevran and astarion going all touch starved when they experience more affectionate touches #fenris kisses them and it's like #flirtytraumatizedrogues.exe has stopped working

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fandom-imagines-stories · 1 year ago

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Grains of Sand

Season Two Episode Four

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 4039

Series Masterlist

Summary: The team drums up ideas to help Spencer and Y/N celebrate their one-year anniversary.

Notes: Oh my god, I can’t believe I accidentally skipped this episode! No wonder my numbers were off. Anyway, this is the actual episode four. I’m so sorry! I promise, I’m really trying to give you guys some fluff this season, but there’s just so much angst haha.

Warnings: Mild sexual content, alcholism

You were getting better. Each day, Spence noticed that you smiled a little more than the last, you laughed more, and you resembled the woman he met again. He was right.

You were the strong one.

“What are you working on?” He asked, pouring you both your morning coffee. You had your nose in a file, hand scribbling away in your notebook.

“I’m putting together a possible study,” you said.

“Oh?” He set your mug in front of you and kissed your temple before taking the seat across the table.

“It’s just an idea,” you shrugged. “I’ll tell you about it when I figure out a little more.”

“Oh.” He tried not to sound too dejected. You usually couldn’t wait to share your projects with him.

You put your notes aside and gave him a bright smile. “So, there’s a classic horror marathon on TV this weekend and I was thinking- fingers crossed you’re here- that we can make a big deal out of it. We can get cheap Halloween candy, stay in our pajamas, and have a cozy, creepy weekend all to ourselves.”

Spence grinned. Having already made his own plans for the weekend, this was a good cover to make sure his stayed a surprise. Plus, he was always up for classic monster movies, especially with you.

You always laughed when he did the voices along with the actors. Everyone else thought it was weird.

Now he just needed the time to actually plan his plans. With absolutely no idea where to start. No big deal.

Spencer got up to clear the table and you slurped down the rest of your coffee.

“I’ll get it,” you blurted, hurriedly grabbing his plate and yours and walking over to the trash. You dumped the food scraps and used napkins on top of the empty bottle at the bottom of the bag.

That was close.

You made a mental note to take it out as soon as he left for work.

Spence noted your odd reaction, but decided not to say anything about it. He checked his watch and finished his coffee.

“I have to get going, but maybe we can get lunch?”

“Actually, I’m getting lunch with JJ today,” you said, making your way back to the table to give him a kiss. “How about I bring you coffee in the afternoon, hm? Sonia wants to meet with SES Strauss anyway, so I can stop by her office and set up a meeting.”

“She lets you do that?” He asked, surprised. To be completely honest, he had always been just a little afraid of the Section Chief.

You snickered. “I’m pretty sure she likes me more than my brother, so I should be fine.”

“Strauss really doesn’t seem to like him, does she?” He chuckled and shook his head. You watched him as he left, keeping a sunny grin on your face until the door closed behind him. You fell against the table, face in your hands and shoulders slumped.

Two weeks had passed since Colorado. Two weeks of splitting yourself in half. One side smiled and laughed and planned fun date weekends. The side that was genuinely getting better. The side that felt normal again. Then there was the other half- the empty one that could only be filled by that numbing liquid. The side that had to suffer in order for the other to recover, like your own personal Omelas.

But if it meant keeping Spencer and Aaron from worrying- on top of everything else in their lives- then it was worth it. Spence was already dealing with so much after what happened with Ben Cyrus, you couldn’t stand being an added thing. So you learned how to keep the two sides separate, which was exhausting, but in the span of everything, what harm could a few nights a week really do?

You took a moment to collect yourself and walked to your desk. The little table calendar was decorated with little ghosts and pumpkins that Spencer drew and every time you saw it, you couldn’t help but grin. This year, Halloween meant more than just a holiday of spooks and treats.

In just over a week it would be you and Spencer’s one year anniversary.

And that was reason enough to put on a smile.

Reid had an unusual pep coming into the office that morning and it did not go unnoticed. Morgan watched him set his bag down and then rush off to Garcia’s office with this goofy glow on his face.

“What’s that about?” Prentiss asked. While the injuries on her face were barely visible, Reid still had a hard time looking her in the eye since they got back. Seeing him excited made her heart happy.

Morgan stood up with a curious smirk. “I’m gonna go find out.”

Garcia was setting a new knick knack on her desk when the sweet genius knocked on her door.

“Vault of the All Knowing, you may enter,” she proclaimed.

Reid stepped in tentatively, “Hey Garcia,” he said, “you consider yourself to be a romantic, right?”

She spun around so quickly she almost fell out of her chair. “Are you asking me for love advice?”

The wild excitement in her eyes was enough to frighten him a little. “Yes?”

Garcia squealed. “Oh my God, come in, sit down. I have been preparing for this.” She pulled two mugs out from a drawer. “What kind of tea do you like?”

“I really don’t need any-”

“Do you want my help?” She snipped. He nodded, wide eyed. “Then we are doing this the right way.” She picked out two bags and sashayed out to get some hot water. Reid sat awkwardly and waited, toying with one of Garcia’s desk-pets.

“I am hurt.” The voice from the doorway made him jump. Reid whirled around and felt an embarrassed blush rush to his face as he saw Morgan’s smug grin. “I am deeply offended that you would go to Garcia for advice with the ladies and not me. Sorry, lady. Singular.”

“It’s not really that I need advice, I just-”

It was too late. Morgan took the chair across from him. Garcia returned.

“Yay, now it’s a party,” she beamed, handing Reid the mugful of earl gray. “Okay, ask away my beautiful, brilliant friend.”

The room fell into silence. Reid shrunk under the stares of the two agents before him and nervously sipped the warm tea.

“I-um- I was just hoping you would have some ideas to help me with- uh-” He stammered. “Okay, I need you both to stop looking at me like you’re my parents and I’m going on my first date.”

“Alright then, Lover Boy, what do you need help with?”

Garcia smacked Morgan’s arm. “This is why you weren’t invited.”

“I’m just trying to get this moving,” he said. “He clearly needs help with something.”

“Our anniversary is coming up,” Reid finally blurted. The two bickering friends turned back to him. “And I need help figuring out what to do. I don’t really know how to be… romantic, I guess.”

They looked at him, then at each other, then back at him and wide grins spread across their faces.

“A year already, huh?” Morgan asked.

“That is so sweet!” Garcia cheered. She clapped her hands together. “Oh, there’s so many possibilities. Okay, brainstorm. What are the things that make you think of Y/N?”

Reid answered with little need to think. “Books. Coffee. Research. Homicide. Criminal Psychology. ABBA.”

“Whoa, slow down, sweetie.”

Morgan held up a hand. “Hold up,” he leaned forward on his elbows. “ABBA?”

Reid took another sip and shrugged. “She used to put them on and dance around the apartment when she thought I wasn’t home. Now she sometimes gets me to dance with her. It’s actually pretty fun. ABBA’s upbeat tempo and lyrics are quite nice for stress dancing. Plus, it’s really cute when Y/N sings along.”

He smiled into his mug and Garcia put a hand on her chest, her lower lip jutting out in a pout.

“That is adorable.”

Reid set the mug down and let his hands fall helplessly to his lap. “But I still don’t know what to do to make this day special. I mean, so much has happened, and with everything that happened in Colorado, I think she’s been trying really hard to make everything feel normal and I want to do something that would mean a lot.”

“I think you’re selling yourself a little short, Reid,” Morgan said. “You took the woman to London less than a month ago. That was romantic, right?”

Reid’s blush returned, his mind conjuring images and feelings of you and nights spent not sleeping. Sheets and skin and sighs…

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

Morgan smirked, sensing the younger agent’s shift in thought. “See? You know what you’re doing. You just have to get out of your head to do it, you know?”

“Follow your heart,” Garcia added.

Spencer took this in and felt a flurry of ideas pop up in the back of his mind. It wasn’t much, but it might be something to go off of. He stood and smiled.

“Thanks guys.”

He bounded out the door with new determination, leaving the other two to sit in satisfied silence.

Morgan chuckled. “They grow up so fast.”

The waitress filled your waters and you gazed over the menu.

JJ wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I can actually stomach any of this.” She laughed lightly and put the menu aside, committing to her drink instead. “Thanks for being able to do this, by the way. I feel like I haven’t seen you at all lately.”

“Are you kidding? Your schedule is busier than mine. I’m always happy to see you guys. I barely see the one I live with as it is,” you said. After ordering, you both talked about work and the London trip and other things you’d been meaning to catch up on. “You’re due in just a couple of weeks, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, and then this will finally be over!” She laid a hand on her middle, laughing. “I gotta say, as excited as I am to have this baby, I’m just as excited to not throw up and waddle and cry from hormones all the time.”

The both of you snickered for a moment and you looked down at your silverware, twisting your fork back and forth on the table. JJ read you like a book.

“You and Spence’s anniversary is next week right?” She asked.

You perked up again. “Yeah. October 30th. It’s kinda crazy to think it’s been a year. I mean… so much has happened.”

“You two have been through a lot together, that’s for sure,” she said. “But I’ve never seen him happier.” Another few quiet moments passed. JJ watched your gaze dart between her belly and her face, and each time you would take another long gulp of water. There was something in your eyes that she recognized. “Have you thought about it?”

“Hmm?” You snapped back to the table, having been lost in your thoughts.

“Have you ever thought about having kids?” She wondered. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“No, I don’t mind.” You took another drink. “If I’m being honest, I never have before. When the things that happened to me happen, I don’t know, it doesn’t exactly fuel a maternal drive. Plus the only serious relationship I had after that, the guy twice my age and using me. No, I’ve never really seen myself as a mother.” You got that look in your eye again. A kind of dreaminess. Hope. “But Spence would be such a great dad, wouldn’t he?”

JJ smiled, but there was almost a sadness in her eyes. A kind of sympathy that you didn’t understand the origin of. But she could tell how heart broken you were at the thought of never being good enough to be a mom because of your past. She wanted to tell you that you would both make great parents, that any kid would be lucky to have you for a mother. But she knew that now wasn’t the right moment.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “That kid would have the best bedtime stories.”

Both of you hardly touched your food and Jennifer picked up on other little things throughout the meal. She may not be a profiler, but she could tell that you were on edge, but doing a damn good job of hiding it. Maybe it was nerves about your anniversary or still recovering from Spence almost getting killed in Colorado, but something was definitely up. She just hoped her bringing up having kids hadn’t upset you.

“We should probably get going,” you said, forcing yourself to have a few more bites despite not being hungry. “I told Spence I’d bring him some coffee this afternoon when I go to talk to Strauss.”

“You should stop by your brother’s too,” JJ suggested. “I know he would love to see you.”

“Are we talking about the same Aaron?” You chuckled. While progress had been made concerning your odd connections to his job, he still always seemed very uncomfortable to see you at the BAU. Besides, you still had reason for keeping off your big brother’s radar. “I’ll see you in a bit, I guess?”

She smiled and nodded, wanting to say more but knowing how. Jennifer watched you walk away with an ache in her chest. There was something wrong- something you were desperately trying to hide- but she just didn’t know what.

“Well look who’s decided to grace us with her presence,” Morgan said, getting up from his desk to hug you.

“It’s good to see you too, Derek,” you laughed, stretching out your arm so the cupholder full of coffee cups wouldn’t fall. “And, I bring gifts.”

“Oh my god, you’re an angel,” Emily exclaimed, taking her coffee with a grin.

Derek patted your shoulder. “Professor Hot Stuff strikes again.” He spoke pointedly at Reid, chuckling at the jealous tint in the younger agent’s cheeks. It was all brotherly fun, of course.They both knew that Derek would never cross that line- he only saw you as a good friend. But it was good for the team’s genius to get his blood boiling every once in a while.

You set a cup on Spencer’s desk and ran a hand through his hair. He gave you a small smile, putting a hand on the small of your back as he set his paperwork aside.

“How was lunch?”

You thought of your conversation with JJ and couldn’t help the creeping images of Spence with some little boy or girl, reading to them before bed and helping with their math homework. You pushed the thoughts aside.

“Good,” you said. “I’ve been craving a little girl-talk.”

“Which is why we have plans to get coffee next week,” Emily chimed.

Derek held up his hand. “Alright, now I just feel left out.”

“From what I hear you get plenty of company,” you teased. His jaw dropped in mock offense. Spencer had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing too loud. “Don’t worry, Muscle Man, I’m sure I can work you into my busy schedule sometime.”

The four of you conversed merrily for a while before a looming, serious presence appeared over the bullpen. You gave your brother a wide, hiding smile.

“Aaron, hey. I brought coffee.” You held up the last cup as a peace offering.

“Hey,” he said. He didn't seem angry or annoyed. He seemed genuinely glad to see you. Still, you knew how to recognize the concern in his gaze. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

You gulped. “Actually, I’m here to see SES Strauss for my boss-”

“It’ll just take a second.”

Any more resistance would raise questions so you just agreed with a shrug. You gave Spence a parting smile and walked up to Aaron’s office. With every step, you evaluated all of your motions, every tell he would be able to catch.

“You know, you should really work on your entrance,” you joked as he closed the door. “I mean, every time I’m here, you just appear like the Phantom of the Opera-”

“Why are you avoiding me?” He interrupted.

Your brows drew together to imitate confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You haven’t taken my calls, you’ve canceled dinner plans twice, and you stopped staying with Haley when we’re on a case.”

“I stopped sleepwalking,” you shrugged. “I didn’t want to keep being an inconvenience. Hell, I’m even sleeping through the night now. How does that mean I’m avoiding you?”

“We haven’t spoken since Reid got trapped in the compound.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Aaron, we’re both incredibly busy people,” you said. You crossed your arms. “Work has been going really well. I enjoy what I do. Spencer finally doesn’t walk on eggshells around me. Things have started to feel normal. I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to believe that I could actually be doing better.”

“You’re overcompensating,” he argued. He narrowed his eyes. It was clear how hard you were trying to put everything to the way it was before your birthday, but it was more than just not wanting to deal with the trauma. There was something else you were hiding.

“And you aren’t?” You fired back, turning this ridiculous inquiry on him. “You were back in the field before you were even really cleared. You’ve been burying yourself in your work ever since what happened in New York.”

“This isn’t about me-”

“Maybe it should be.”

“The explosion was months ago,” he started, but again you interrupted him.

“So was the anniversary.” You took steps towards him. “You aren’t the only one who’s worried, Aaron. Maybe you should figure out yourself before you jump on me.”

You started for the door, but he put a hand on your arm.

“Wait,” he sighed and pulled you into his arms.

The embrace, at first, made your body go rigid. You wanted to crumble and cry and tell him everything. Inside, you were screaming to tell him about the bar. The bottle at the bottom of the trash can. The burning in your throat you were feeling even now. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said against your shoulder. He held you a little tighter. “I just… I just wish you would talk to me.”

A crack of guilt shot through your heart. Still, you kept your demon buried, if only to protect him from him.

“I’m doing better, Aaron. Really,” you smiled, pulling away. “And I worry about you too, you know? You have to take care of yourself every once in a while or you’re going to fall apart.” You hugged him again, hiding your teary eyes from his gaze. “I love you, big brother.”

His hand cupped the back of your head like you were a little kid and his arms were the one thing protecting you from the monsters. Even if you wouldn’t let him see what the monsters were.

“I love you too.”

You pushed away again, putting on a brave face and giving him a small smile. “I’d better get to Strauss’ office before she finds a way to blame you for my tardiness.”

He chuckled and opened the door.

You went back to Spencer’s desk to retrieve your cup of coffee. He hooked his finger through your belt loop.

“Is everything okay?” He asked.

You nodded and cleared your throat. “Oh that? Yeah. He was just asking if I wanted to come to a late birthday dinner for Jack.” You leaned down to kiss his forehead. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Okay,” he hesitated. You seemed fine enough, but there was something you weren’t telling him. Before you could go, he pulled you down for one more kiss, to which you both came away beaming.

As you left, he could sense Morgan’s teasing gaze on him. Reid just smirked and opened a new file.

“Shut up.”

Something shifted after the day you came to the BAU. Spencer noticed you working a little harder to be cheery when he came home from a case or to comfort him when he was stressed. It seemed every time he had a nightmare- which were more frequent recently- you were already awake and ready to hold him until he fell asleep again. You were a pillar of strength when he wanted to be one for you.

All the more reason he wanted to do something extra special when the day of your anniversary finally came.

He got Garcia to help him go shopping and made sure that dinner was ready by the time you got home. He filled ornate chalices with fruit punch and carefully lit dozens of candles around the table and kitchen until the apartment somewhat resembled the gothic manor he was going for.

You heard the music before you even reached the door. The low classical sound beckoned your curiosity. You snapped your gum- the minty aroma masking your breath- and continued towards it.

You opened the door, expecting to see your regular apartment, but instead you were greeted by candlelight and a red carpet leading to the dinner table.

“What the hell-” You started, mouth agape with surprise.

“Wait wait wait!” Spence exclaimed, sticking his head out from the kitchen. “You’re home early, just… just give me a second.”

“Okay?” You spit your gum into the trash and closed the door. Spencer hurried back out, a long black cloak hung around his shoulders.

“Velcome to o-our an-an-ani,” he sighed. “Hold on.” He took out a pair of plastic fangs. “Welcome to our anniversary dinner.” He held out his hands, displaying the table setting behind him with a bright, goofy grin.

You laughed, taking in everything. The chalices, the pasta, the candles. “Is this supposed to be… Dracula?”

He beamed. “‘How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams.’ It’s the book you talked about on our first date and I thought, with it being so close to Halloween and all, it would be fitting. I don’t know, I know it seems silly, but it made me think of you and Garcia and Morgan told me to just follow my heart so-”

“I love it,” you blurted before he could get too far in his own head. “But Spence,”Your smile was sweetly surprised, but still confused. “Our anniversary isn’t until next week.”

“The anniversary of our first date is next week,” he corrected, his eyes filling with such love it made your chest ache. “But today- a year ago today- at 3:35 P.M., I helped a beautiful, brilliant, incredible woman reach Anna Karenina from the top shelf.” He took your hand in both of his and held it up to his lips. He kissed each knuckle gently, helping him focus through his overwhelming emotions. “Y/N, to me, today is our anniversary because I knew from the moment I met you that I wanted to be with you.”

Your heart swelled and the lump in your throat made it impossible to speak. “Spencer…”

“I love you, Y/N. And I know things are hard right now and I know I haven’t been able to be with you through it all like I want to, but I need you to know how much I love you and how much you’ve changed my life and made this year the best of my life.”

He pulled you into his arms, wrapping the cape around the both of you and closed the space between your lips.

You were breathless, overwhelming happiness and surprise still making your chest fill with warmth. The stress of the day melted away quicker than it had when you tried using your flask to forget everything.

“Happy anniversary, Y/N,” Spencer grinned, pulling away to look at your face.

You gazed back into the loving, hazel eyes and let yourself drink in his presence. “Happy anniversary, Spencer. I love you.”

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt; hereforsmutbcicantgetenough; violetbossler; hyper-half-blood; i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48; @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird

#criminal minds #dr. spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagines #derek morgan #dr. spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi

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