#and we’d work backwards

[walkman-cat]

gatsby costume designs part 3!!

it’s him….. the great gatsby………….

i don’t really have much to say about this one other than the year 11 playing gatsby is Not Pleased that he has to wear a pink suit and have a middle part lol

[theostrophywife]

heaven and back.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader x theodore nott.

song inspiration: heaven and back by chase atlantic.

author's note: poly! matty and theo just hits different. the teamwork that these two would put in. whew baby that's a one way ticket to st. mungo's. these men break backs, not hearts 😏

You were good at playing games. 

As a matter of fact, Mattheo and Theodore would argue that you were a little too good. 

After all, you met your boyfriends during one of Malfoy’s infamous game nights in which you swindled Mattheo and Theodore out of a few hundred galleons during a tense round of magical poker. Ever since that fateful night in fourth year, the three of you became inseparable. Thanks to your slyness, the first Saturday of every month was deemed sacred to your fellow Slytherins. Game nights were reserved for drinking and debauchery, which just so happened to be your specialty.

Though the entirety of Hogwarts coveted an invitation to the longstanding tradition, very few were allowed a glimpse into the inner workings of the serpent’s nest. Tonight, the guest of honor was none other than the Gryffindor golden girl—Hermione Granger. She and Draco only started dating a month ago, but anyone with eyes could see that Malfoy was quite smitten. Before Hermione, Draco had never invited a significant other to game night. 

You were determined to give Hermione a warm Slytherin welcome. Hence the special potion you brewed just for the occasion. 

With a smirk, you produced the potion from your back pocket. The liquid sloshed around in the glass vial, the iridescent purple mixture flecked with specks of glitter. 

“I know that look.” Theo remarked, pulling you into his lap. “What sort of trouble are you brewing, dolcezza?” 

Mattheo chuckled and nestled against his shoulder. “Don’t act like you don’t like it, Teddy. You know we both benefit from her mischief. Isn’t that right, princess?” 

You smiled, ruffling Mattheo’s curls. “You’re absolutely right, Matty. Tonight, everyone will reap the rewards of my tricks. I concocted a special little potion that’ll make game night a little more interesting.”

Pansy raised a perfectly groomed brow. “What exactly does this little concoction of yours do, Y/N? The last time I drank something you brewed, I ended up streaking through the quidditch pitch.” 

“As I recall, I was right beside you, Pans.” Your friend chuckled, nodding in confirmation. “Consider this a social lubricant. It takes the edge off, makes you feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. It’s the perfect balance between feeling tipsy and high. Lowers those pesky inhibitions.” 

Draco scoffed. “If this group lowers their inhibitions any further, we’d all be expelled.” 

“That’s why we have you, Dray. What good is the Malfoy fortune if it can’t bail us out of sticky situations?”

“Need I remind you that the last sticky situation almost ended with Enzo in the infirmary after Mattheo and Theo convinced him to race backwards on their brooms.”

Hermione watched the back and forth exchange, absorbing the interaction with a small smile. 

“Draco’s exaggerating, of course. Anyone would’ve missed the whomping willow in the dark.” The Golden Girl chuckled as you sent her a conspiratory wink, causing Draco to sigh in exasperation. “Besides, Berkshire had fun. Didn’t you, Enz?”

“Oh, loads. I had a blast pulling twigs from my arse for two hours straight afterwards.” 

“See? You’re not talking us into taking another one of your poisons, Y/N.”

Enzo shook his head. “Speak for yourself, cousin. I’m definitely in.”

The rest of your friends expressed their agreement. Even Blaise, who would never dream of drinking anything besides the finest vintage, was eager to participate. Mostly to see the others make a fool of themselves, which was perfectly fine by you.

Draco rolled his silver eyes. “Fine. You lot are going to end up talking me into it, anyways.”

“What about you, Hermione? Would you like a sip as well?”

Her warm, honey brown eyes darted around the room. Draco clasped her hand in his, squeezing gently. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, love. I’m only agreeing because I don't want to have to take care of these heathens.”

You nodded empathically. “No pressure, Hermione. You can say no if you’d like, but I am rather proud of my little concoction and it would be an absolute honor if the golden girl partook in our debauchery. After all, you’re dating Draco. You might as well get used to it now.”

A mischievous grin pulled at Hermione’s lips. She shrugged nonchalantly, her curls cascading over her shoulder. “Why the bloody hell not?” 

“That’s the spirit, Granger!” cheered Pansy. 

You smirked in response and slithered out of your boyfriend’s lap. Both Mattheo and Theo watched intently as you crawled across the plush ornate rug, slowly making your way towards the Gryffindor. Hermione sucked in a breath, her cheeks blossoming into a pretty blush. Her hands, which were laid in her lap in the most prim and proper way, twitched when you knelt before her on the sofa. 

Behind you, Mattheo mumbled something into Theo’s ear. When you glanced over your shoulder, your boyfriends were staring directly at you, anticipating your next move. You responded with an innocent smile before turning back to Hermione. 

With  a sly smile, you held her honey eyed gaze and tapped her bottom lip. “Open up, love.” 

Hermione swallowed thickly before parting her lips. You gently cradled her jaw before tipping the vial into her mouth, pouring a generous amount of potion for the golden girl. She looked up at you expectantly, her lashes fluttering ever so slightly. 

You rewarded her with a cheeky wink. “Good girl, Granger. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

She shook her head, the flush on her cheeks mimicking her house colors as you wiped a droplet of liquid off of her lips with your thumb. Beside her, Draco sighed. “For Salazar’s sake, stop putting the moves on my girlfriend.” 

“What’s the matter, Dray? Are you scared I’ll steal Hermione away from you?” 

“You can hardly blame me. You’re a shameless flirt, Y/N.” 

You placed a hand over your heart, feigning offense. “Why, I’d never dream of flirting with your lady. You know how jealous my boys get.” 

Your boyfriends shook their heads, clearly amused at your attempt to rile Draco up. Truly, your friend made it too easy. You chuckled as the blonde glared at you. “Come on, Malfoy. It’s your turn. Maybe the potion will loosen you up, yeah?” 

Draco rolled his eyes, but allowed you to pour the potion into his mouth. You moved down the line, doing the same for Pansy, Blaise, and Enzo. The latter grinned as you ruffled his hair. After Enzo, the only ones remaining were Theo and Mattheo. 

“Come here, cara mia.” Theo said, beckoning you with two fingers. “Mattheo and I are waiting.” 

“I saved the best for last, boys.” 

Mattheo smirked as he pulled you into his lap. You settled against him, making yourself right at home. He kissed the side of your neck, smiling against your skin. “Go on, then. Don’t leave Theo hanging.” 

You nodded, body heating as Mattheo rubbed your thighs. Theo raised a brow, his watercolor eyes settling over you. Licking your lips, you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander. Your boyfriend looked rather casual in his emerald jumper and dark jeans, but there was something about the way that Theo carried himself that exuded sex appeal. The cocky smirk on his handsome face told you that he was well aware of the effect he had on you.

Theo cocked his head towards you and opened his mouth. You tipped the vial past his lips, admiring how plush and pouty they looked. Lust darkened your boyfriend’s watercolor eyes as he watched you through hooded lids. The potion dribbled off his chin, making you giggle. 

“Oops, I spilled.” You licked the remnants off, lapping up the liquid all the way to the corner of his lips. Mattheo’s fingers dug into your hips as you finished off your little show with a kiss. 

Theo grabbed the back of your head and deepened the kiss. He didn’t take kindly to being teased. Never one to shy away from public displays of affection, Theo groaned softly and slid his tongue into your mouth, giving you a filthy open-mouthed kiss before pulling away and winking. 

Across the room, Hermione flushed, her lips parting ever so slightly. “Oh,” she whispered softly. 

Mattheo chuckled, his laughter caressing your skin as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He turned you over in his lap and tapped his lips. “Me next, princess.” 

“Open wide, Matty.” 

“Funny. Usually I’m the one saying that to you.” 

Your friends groaned at the suggestive comment, but you only grinned in response. Mattheo parted his lips eagerly, not once breaking eye contact as he swallowed the potion. The intensity of his big, brown eyes made your hands shake, causing you to spill a few drops on your fingers. Your boyfriend took your middle and pointer finger into his mouth and sucked them clean. 

You gasped in surprise. Mattheo chuckled darkly, catching the vial before it slipped out of your fingers. Behind you, Theo tugged at your hair and titled your head back. 

“Your turn now, mi amor.” Mattheo drawled, his voice a seductive song in your ears. He lowered his voice, so only you could hear his next statement. “Be a good girl and swallow.” 

The eager nod made both of your boyfriends smirk. Theo gathered your hair in one hand, fisting your locks into a makeshift ponytail while Mattheo poured the last of the potion into your mouth. The liquid was strong and sweet, trailing down your throat and warming your body with a pleasant heat. 

“That’s my girl,” Mattheo said. Theo raised a brow, which made the curly headed boy laugh. “That’s our girl.” 

“Better,” Theo remarked before pulling you against him. 

You settled into his lap, watching the rest of your friends start a game of poker. As always, Draco was way too competitive. Blaise was hustling the hell out of him, but the blonde didn’t seem to notice. Pansy wrapped her arms around her boyfriend’s shoulders, leaning in every so often to whisper things in his ear that made him smile. 

Enzo reclined back on the couch, an endearing smile pulling at his lips as he took small sips of his firewhiskey. From his glazed eyes, you could tell that the potion was hitting him the hardest. 

Mattheo rested his head on your lap, tugging at your hand in a silent request to play with his curls. You obliged happily, scratching at his scalp and twirling his bouncy locks between your fingers. Every so often, he’d lean in and show you his cards, asking for advice. 

As the night progressed, the potion took its effects, loosening both lips and limbs. Theo’s long legs bracketed you from either side, the intoxicating scent of petrichor and cigarette smoke clinging onto him like your own personal drug. Mattheo stared lovingly up at you as you continued playing with his hair. 

When you looked up, you met Hermione’s inquiring gaze. She was leaned up against Draco, who kept an arm around her waist, absentmindedly drawing circles underneath her sweater. 

She cocked her head, a question forming in her brilliant mind. “So, how exactly does it work?” 

You leaned back against Theo’s chest, a playful smirk curving against your lips. “How does what work, love?” 

“Having…two boyfriends.” 

“You mean, being poly?” 

“Poly,” Hermione said, testing out the word. There wasn’t a hint of judgment in her expression, just plain curiosity. Apparently, the Gryffindor girl’s innate hunger for knowledge extended to the intricacies of your relationship. “If you don’t mind me asking. How exactly does a poly relationship work?” 

You shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s like every other relationship,” you started, glancing at your two favorite people in the world. Mattheo and Theo smiled back. “We go on dates, we argue about stupid things, then we kiss and make up. Except sometimes the boys like to gang up on me.” 

Theo chuckled. “I reckon ganging up against you is the most fun that we have, dolcezza.” 

“I’d have to agree with Teddy,” Mattheo interjected as he grinned up at you. “We give teamwork a whole new meaning. Don’t we, princess?” 

“See,” you said, waving your arms between your boyfriends. “These sassy men will be the death of me.” 

Theo wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling against your neck. “You love us though.” 

“That I do,” you replied with a smile. 

“Do any of you ever get jealous?” asked Hermione. 

Theo nodded. “Of course, it’s a natural part of every relationship, but we have ways of working it out.” Your boyfriend smiled and kissed your cheek. “We just make sure no one feels left out.” He leaned down to place a kiss on Mattheo’s forehead too.

Hermione hummed. “That sounds rather nice, actually.” 

“I wouldn’t call it nice,” Mattheo countered with a sly smile. “Y/N can get a little feisty sometimes. You should’ve seen what she did to Lavender for touching my shoulder last week.” 

Theo nodded in agreement. “It’s nothing compared to the fight she had with Cho after she tried asking me out. Poor girl thought that polyamory equates to having an open relationship. As if I’d ever need anyone else besides Y/N and Mattheo.” 

“So polyamory doesn’t translate to opening your relationship to others,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “I’m learning so much.” 

Mattheo confirmed her statement with a nod. “Yes, we’re all very committed to one another. It’s only Y/N and Theo for me.” 

“While we all adore your wonderful little trio,” Draco cut in. You could tell by the tension in his shoulders that he would definitely not be open to sharing the golden girl with anyone else. “I think it’s time to call it a night.” 

You chuckled. “Such a party pooper, Malfoy. Don’t worry, Granger’s just asking for education purposes. Aren’t you, Mione?” 

“I know what you’re doing, Y/N. You’re devious, you know that?” 

Theo smirked at his oldest friend. “Don’t be jealous cause she has more game than you, Dray.” 

“After all, that’s how she got us. Right, princess?” 

Draco sighed exasperatedly. You rolled your eyes fondly before saying goodbye to everyone. Pulling Hermione into a hug, you winked behind her back as Draco glared at you. 

“Thank you for indulging me,” Hermione said softly. “I feel thoroughly educated now.” 

“No problem, Mione.” 

You kissed her cheek before wrapping Draco into a hug as well. “Stay sharp, Dray. You’ll have to work harder to keep up with this one. Granger’s way out of your league.” 

Draco smiled. “I’m well aware.” 

Later that night as you laid in bed sandwiched between Mattheo and Theo, you felt the potion reach its peak. You giggled into Theo’s neck, squealing as Mattheo pressed his cold feet against your legs. The three of you were chatting about your day like you usually did, but thanks to the potion, one of you always got sidetracked, leading into cuddles and kisses mid sentence.

Matty spooned you from behind, his possessive grip snaked around your waist like a vice. “I’m not going to lie, watching you crawl towards Granger tonight did something to me.” 

“That’s her game, mio amato. You know she loves to tease.” 

You turned over to face him, an amused smirk toying at your lips. “I thought you liked my little games, Teddy. At least your lower half did. I could feel you pressing against me all night.” 

Theo smirked, grinding his erection against your thigh. “Can you blame me? You knew exactly what you were doing. Admit it, cara mia. You weren’t cozying up to Hermione just to get under Draco’s skin. You were doing it to rile us up too.” 

“It worked. I’ve been hard as fuck all night. The way you teased Granger had me thinking vile thoughts.” 

“So I’m not enough for you, Matty?” You jested, pouting your bottom lip at your boyfriend. “You want Draco’s girl too?” 

Within the blink of an eye, you were pinned underneath Mattheo with your arms raised above your head as your boyfriend glared down at you. “No. If anything, you’re the one flirting with Granger like Theo and I aren’t enough to handle already. Maybe we should remind you who you belong to.” 

You hummed in agreement, biting back a smile. “Hmm, maybe you’re right, querido. I’m not opposed to a little refresher.” 

Theo shook his head in disbelief. “Fucking hell, bella. You just want to be railed until you cry, don’t you? Such a little brat. You could’ve just asked for what you wanted.”

You batted your lashes in response. “But it’s so much more fun this way.” 

As retaliation, Mattheo flipped you over on all fours. With a smirk, he leaned back on the headboard and pushed down his gray heathered sweatpants as Theo crawled behind you. He gave no warning as he bunched up your nightdress, pressing a filthy kiss against your clothed sex. You were dripping for him, coating his lips with your taste as he pushed your head down on Mattheo’s lap. You groaned as Mattheo pumped himself between slender fingers, tapping the tip of his cock against your lips. He bucked into your mouth just as Theo plunged his tongue between your folds. 

“What was that, principessa?” Theo hummed against your aching cunt. “Matty and I can’t hear you over all that moaning.” 

Mattheo laughed meanly as he gathered your hair in his fist, thrusting down your throat with a choked moan. “Put that smart mouth to work, sweetheart.” He thrust in lazily, barely giving you his tip. “Spit on it.” 

Glancing up at him through your lashes, you spit on Mattheo’s cock and watched as his head lolled against the headboard. “Teddy? Wanna give me a hand, pretty boy?”

With wide eyes, you gasped as Theo leaned over and pumped Mattheo in his hand before lining up his length against your lips. Theo kissed your cheek before shoving your head down to take inch after inch. Once Mattheo slid all the way in, he pulled out just to slam back in forcefully. You could feel Mattheo hitting the back of your throat, activating your gag reflex while he smirked in satisfaction. 

“Gonna shut the fuck up and take my cock like a good little slut, aren’t you?” 

You nodded, tears forming in your eyes as Mattheo continued to fuck your throat. As if that weren’t enough, Theo flicked his tongue on your clit and feasted on you from behind like a starved man. He took his sweet time, sloppily making out with your pussy and lapping up your arousal before slipping a finger inside, pumping you as you gagged on Mattheo’s cock. You groaned as Theo pried your legs apart, his intense gaze never leaving your face as he kissed the inside of your thighs. Hooking your right leg over his shoulder, Theo began licking and teasing, his tongue flicking through your folds with expert precision. He sucked hard, lapping your juices up with fervent devotion. 

The potion increased the sensations tenfold, intensifying your pleasure as you bucked against Theo’s face. It seems that your less than innocent academic pursuit had truly paid off because both Theo and Mattheo seemed to be affected just as much. The current of the concoction surged through all three of you, slamming you with wave after wave of heady desire. It felt better than drunk sex or fucking while you were high. This was just unbridled lust and want, flooding you with the need to be nothing but an obedient fuck toy for your favorite boys. 

Mascara streaked down your cheeks as you cried out for more, fisting the sheets as your boyfriends occupied both of your needy holes. The cries of pleasure were muffled around Mattheo’s cock. Your boyfriend’s breathing grew ragged and his grip grew tighter, his abs rippling as he shot hot ribbons down your throat. 

“Good girl. So fucking beautiful, swallowing every drop of my cum like a perfect little whore. You’re flawless, Y/N.”

Theo made quick work of you afterwards. Warmth spread from your core, hot tendrils snaking all over your body as he pushed you to your first orgasm of the night. When Theo crooked his middle and pointer finger inside your gummy walls, you squirted into his mouth with a cry. Despite your cries of pleasure, Theo showed no signs of stopping. His cool breath fanned over your sensitive sex and you whimpered at his ravenous appetite, squirming away from Theo’s tongue. Displeased, Theo flipped you onto your back and dragged you towards him by the ankles. 

“I’m not done with you, tesoro.” 

Your boyfriend growled and glanced at Mattheo. “Hold her down,” Theo commanded, his pretty eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re done when I say you’re done. Sit back, look pretty, and let me eat your pussy until you’re sobbing. I’ll make you feel so good, bella. Surely you have another one in you, don’t you, Y/N?” 

You nodded, still reeling from the aftershock of your orgasm. Mattheo placed you on his lap, prying your lips open with his fingers. “Theo asked you a question, princess. Use your words.” 

Theo smirked. “Give her a minute. I think I’ve fucked her so dumb with my mouth and fingers that she can’t even form a sentence.” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Mattheo said with a chuckle. He caressed your jaw, pressing kisses against your shoulder. “Don’t you want to cum again, sweetheart? Either way, you don’t really have a choice. Theo’s going to feast on you no matter what you say. You know he hates being teased.”

“I can take it,” you said in a shaky voice. “I’ll be good, I promise. I just want to make you both proud.” 

Theo smiled, revealing the dimples you loved so much. “I know you do, Y/N. We’re not stopping until you’ve soaked the sheets. Now come on, be a good girl and sit on my face.”

You swallowed thickly as Theo switched places with you, laying back on Mattheo’s lap while bringing your hips forward. Steadying yourself on Mattheo’s shoulder, you slowly lowered onto Theo’s face. You grinded against him slowly at first, minding your sensitive sex, but it wasn’t long before you were bucking into his mouth, riding his face like you’d ride his cock.

There was no other word to describe Theo but feral. He gorged himself on you, poking and prodding your wet cunt with his tongue and fingers until your head fell onto Mattheo’s neck, gasping against his skin while Theo’s fingers dug into your hips. You groaned as Mattheo kissed you roughly, whimpering at the overwhelming pressure already building in your core. 

As your moans and screams grew louder and louder, Mattheo gagged your mouth with his fingers, shoving his middle and pointer finger past your lips in an attempt to muffle the noise. 

“Are you trying to wake the whole castle up, princess?” 

“Let her,” Theo said, chuckling darkly as he wrapped his lips around your clit. “Let the whole castle hear what a desperate little slut she is for us.” 

You groaned as Theo picked up the pace, fucking you with his tongue until you were coming undone in his mouth. The second orgasm was an out of body experience. Stars exploded behind your eyes as you came with a cry. You could’ve sworn that you went to heaven and back.

As you collapsed backwards into Theo’s arms, your boyfriend grabbed you by the throat and kissed you. The taste of you lingered on his tongue and your eyes rolled back as Theo’s lips claimed yours. He chuckled when you chased his kisses. 

“Don’t be greedy, pretty girl. Matty wants a taste too.” 

Your lips parted in surprise as Theo grabbed the back of Mattheo’s head and kissed him hard, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip and they both groaned. Theo smiled into the kiss, savoring the taste. He patted Mattheo’s cheek before pulling you into his lap. 

“Such a good girl for us, aren’t you?” Theo cooed, caressing your cheek and rewarding you with neck kisses. “I love when you ride my face. You’re fucking perfect. I’m so proud of you, pretty girl.” 

“Don’t go all soft now, cariño.” Mattheo teased, licking away the remnants of you from the corner of his mouth. “We’re only getting started. We haven’t even fucked her yet.” 

Theo smiled down at you, wiping away the mascara streaks clinging to your cheeks. “Then by all means. Finish the job you started, Matty.”

“I intend to,” Mattheo replied as he loomed over you.

With a wink, Theo spread your legs apart and presented your sopping wet cunt to Mattheo like a present. He reached down and rubbed his middle and pointer finger against your clit, holding your hips in place as you arched off the bed. 

“Look at that. Pretty little pussy’s all nice and wet for us,” Theo said with a chuckle. “You’re so eager, aren’t you? So insatiable, dolcezza. Maybe Mattheo and I should give you a double dose. Fuck you at the same time.” 

“Yes,” you breathed, mewling as Theo continued rubbing lazy circles against your clit. “Please, please, I need it.” 

“Just a cockhungry little slut. You’re fucking greedy, mi amor. Begging for both of our cocks. Don’t worry, baby. We’ll give you what you want. Fill you up like you need.” 

You whimpered in response as Mattheo manhandled you, pushing your face into the pillows while he lifted your perky arse in the air. He kneaded your ass, rubbing his cock along your folds. When you grinded against him for more, Mattheo’s palm landed on your right cheek with a hard smack. As you looked behind you, Theo winked before slapping your left cheek. The sting of his palm burned against your skin, making your eyes water. 

“What’s the matter, bella? I thought you wanted to play.”

“I do,” you breathed, gripping the sheets. “Please, Teddy. I need more. Spank me harder.” 

“Dirty girl,” Theo said fondly. “Ask and you shall receive.” 

As his palm came down on your ass over and over again, you gasped for breath, chasing air while Mattheo lined himself up at your entrance. Theo leaned down to kiss the handprints on your arse, biting softly and embedding his mark onto your skin before mirroring Mattheo’s actions. Theo teased against your puckering hole and nodded at the curly headed boy beside him. 

He placed a soft kiss on Mattheo’s lips. “Ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be,” Mattheo responded with a grin. 

You braced yourself to take both of them, gripping the sheets while they filled you simultaneously. It was a tight fit and you could feel both of your boyfriends stretching your walls.

“Such a good girl,” Theo groaned, moving slowly so you could adjust to his girth. “Letting Matty and I stretch you wide open. Fuck, I love being inside of you. It feels like fucking heaven, tesoro.”

Mattheo groaned in agreement. “Your pussy’s so wet. Does it turn you on to be ruined like this?” You cried in pleasure, mewling as Mattheo took Theo’s hand and placed it on your lower abdomen. “Feel that, mi corazón. Can you feel me fuck her deep, rearranging her insides?” 

“Merda, you two are going to be the death of me.” Theo said, his dead eyes rolling back. “Fuck me, I could cum just watching Matty move inside of you, Y/N.” 

As the two of them moved in sync, you gasped and panted, tears streaming down your cheeks from the overstimulation. There were so many sensations all at once, overloading your senses, making you writhe and whimper while your boyfriends ruined you. Mattheo tilted your chin, praises dripping from his lips, sweat slicked skin glimmering a pretty golden shade in the dim light. 

The hard planes of his abdominal muscles rippled while he fucked you from behind, grasping at the base of your throat until you were gasping for air. “Who’s pussy is this?” Mattheo growled into your ear, his curls tickling your cheek while he released a ragged breath. “Who do you belong to, Y/N?” 

“You and Theo,” you breathed. “Only you and Theo.” 

Theo smiled at your answer, lacing your fingers together. “That’s right, principessa. You’re ours to love, to fuck, to worship. Don’t forget that.” 

“Oh gods,” you moaned, gripping Theo’s hand while wrapping your fingers around the hand that Mattheo had around your neck. “I’m yours and you’re both mine.” 

“Damn fucking right,” Mattheo said with a sharp thrust. 

As Mattheo’s breathing grew more ragged, you and Theo both knew that he would succumb first. Theo fisted Mattheo’s curls in one hand and pulled him in for a filthy kiss, swallowing the cry that left his lips as he came inside of you. The sensation of him filling you up was too much to handle and the orgasm rocked your body, making your limbs seize as that familiar white hot heat blinded your senses. 

Theo was the last to cum, pulling out of your sensitive hole so that Mattheo could wrap his lips around his cock. His endurance was rewarded with vulgar noises as Mattheo gripped his hips in place and sucked him dry.

When your third and final orgasm ran its course, you found yourself laying flat on your back, blinking back up at the ceiling as you regained control of your senses. Through the haze, you blinked and found Theo and Mattheo fussing over you, casting a cleansing spell and wiping your damp forehead with a clean cloth. With a smile, they both leaned in and kissed your cheeks before tucking you safely between them. You hummed, placing a gentle kiss on both of their foreheads. 

“You know you two are all I need, right?” 

Your boyfriends both nodded, curling against you. “Of course, mi corazón.” 

“You’re all we need too, cuore mio.”

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[loveysloveclub]

sweet like sugar - luke hughes

in which, luke’s girlfriend is too nice for her own good.

one thing about dating a hockey player was that they very rarely got any time off, luna was no stranger to this. so, whenever her boyfriend got time off work, they made sure to utilise that time.

both luna and luke were currently getting ready for a day on the boardwalk. well, luke was already ready and sat on the end of the bed scrolling through his phone while his girlfriend tried on different variations of possible outfits.

“what about this one?” luna asked her boyfriend as she walked out of the bathroom in yet another outfit. this one was a light wash pair of wide leg jeans, a pink baby tee and just her regular converses that she wore everywhere. luke raised his eyes from his phone screen to look at the fifth, and hopefully the last, outfit of the morning.

“you look good, babe. but you might get cold.” he offered honestly. “you’re so right, let me get changed.” when the girl turned her back, luke jumped from his seat and grabbed the first hoodie he found hanging in his closet. upon entering the bathroom, he snuck up behind the girl and shoved the hoodie over her head.

luna looked at her boyfriend through the mirror with a deadpanned face as her hair was now a mess. luke smiled innocently before placing an obnoxious kiss in her cheek, “perfect.”

“wearing a jumper defeats the whole purpose of wearing the cute shirt, no one will be able to see it.” luna complained as she leaned backwards into her boyfriend. “i saw it.” luke rebutted before grabbing his girlfriends hand and dragging her out of the bathroom and into the living room of his shared apartment with his older brother.

said older brother was currently sitting on the couch alongside his friend, trevor, who was visiting for the week. the two sat on their phones in a shared sense of boredom. jacks eyes flicked over to his brother and his girlfriend, who both looked dressed to go somewhere.

“where are you guys going?”

“the boardwalk.” luke said as he fished his car keys out of his pocket. “did you guys wanna come?” luna offered with a smile.

“no, they’re fine.” luke immediately declined the offer, not wanting to spend his day off with his brother and his annoying friend. “we’d love to.” trevor grinned before jumping up and holding out a hand to luna, “m’lady.”

luna giggled before grabbing the weirdos hand and allowing him to guide her out of the apartment.

luke’s eyes shifted from the door to his brother who was feigning innocence as he too jumped up from the couch. “you guys aren’t coming.”

“luna offered.” jacks face of fake innocence turned into a shit eating grin as he too left the apartment. luke rolled his eyes before following after the trio, mumbling under his breath about how he was going to kill trevor zegras.

upon arriving to the boardwalk, luke hung back with jack as trevor dragged his girlfriend around as if she was his own. he took her to the roller coasters and even won her a big stuffed teddy bear from one of those game stalls that luke knew he would be sleeping next to tonight.

he didn’t blame luna, she was having fun and was losing track of everything around her. he wasn’t going to cause a scene and wipe the big smile off her face just because he wasn’t having a good time.

it got to the period of time in the day where trevor was begging luna to go on the ferris wheel with him, but the girl was quick to shut down the idea with a simple shake of her head.

“jack can go with you, it could be romantic.” luna laughed before pointing at the older hughes boy who was also shaking his head. “i’m not doing anything remotely romantic with you, z.”

“yes, you are.” trevor retorted before grabbing the boy and dragging him to line up. luna laughed at the sight of jack berating trevor whilst the ducks players simply laughed in retaliation.

her eyes travelled to behind her, where her boyfriend stood with his hands shoved in his pockets and a less than impressed expression on his face. luna approached him hesitantly before holding up her bear, “look what i got.”

luke offered a half assed smile, which only made luna’s fall. “what’s wrong?”

“nothings wrong, i like the bear.”

“this isn’t about the bear, what’s wrong?” she asked him again, wrapping her arms about the stuffed toy as she shuffled closer to her boyfriend so she was standing right in front of him.

“it’s stupid.” luke rolled his eyes, his hands now fidgeting with the strings of the hoodie she was wearing. “it can’t be stupid if it’s made you upset, luke.” luna explained as she grabbed his hands to stop from playing with the strings of her hoodie.

“i just- i wanted today to just be us two. we don’t spend that much time together cause i’m always busy with hockey and you’re always busy with school, and i don’t want to spend the one day we have together with my brother and trevor zegras.”

luna could have laughed at the disgust luke held in his voice when talking about the zegras boy, but she refrained for the sake of her boyfriend. instead, she opted to smiling sadly up at her boyfriend. “i’m sorry for inviting them.”

“i’m not upset at you for inviting them, i’m angry at them for accepting the offer.” luke told her honestly, moving to be beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

luna laughed slightly before moving forward until his arm fell from her shoulder. she then grabbed his hand and began to drag him forward.

“what are we doing?”

“you’re winning me a bear.”

[gurugirl]

ex-boyfriend's dad!harry part 3

Summary: You get to try things with Harry you never had the chance to before but the more you get to know him the more of him you want. And that's a problem.

A/N: This full series is already live on Patreon, with all 4 parts up! Part 4 will be posted here in one week.

Word Count: 8.3k

Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)

Part 3 Warnings: 18+ only, smut (including spitting, spanking, use of toys, a leash, & anal with a dildo), daddy kink, unwanted feelings of attachment, angst, age gap, sub/dom dynamics

ex-boyfriend's dad!harry masterlist

. . .

Harry thought he’d feel more guilty once the reality of what he was doing hit him. Fucking his son’s ex-girlfriend. But instead, he only felt delighted that you were even interested. He was disappointed in Tyler, to be honest. The more he learned about how he’d treated you, the less Harry was worried about what Tyler might think. His son never deserved you.

And he wasn’t just excited that he had an open invitation for kinky hot sex with a lovely young woman who wanted to learn the ropes but he was also excited because you were sweet and he trusted you. You trusted him just the same which was why it was such a fantastic arrangement.

When he saw your text the moment he left your apartment - Can you come over tonight? He couldn’t stop grinning to himself all day.

So he packed a bag on the off chance you’d want him to stay the whole weekend, and he had a few things he wanted to bring that he could introduce you to.

You were already raring to go the moment you let him into your apartment. You wanted to try so many things and get started right away but Harry had other plans as he pulled you in by your neck and planted a big kiss on your lips as he dropped his leather duffel bag by the front door.

“Let’s talk first. Okay? Remember I told you we’d go over rules and boundaries? We still need to do that.” He pushed you toward your couch, walking you backward with his hand wrapped around the front of your throat.

That gesture of dominance alone had you hot. And Harry could tell you liked it.

You both sat on your couch, “Sorry. Just got so excited. I trust whatever you like and want to try.”

Harry grinned, “I’m excited too,” he softly smoothed his hand up your thigh, “Just want to get a few things out of the way first and then we can get to it.”

You nodded and angled yourself toward him, “Okay. You’re right.”

���I know I am,” he squeezed your thigh, “How was work?”

You laughed, “Work? Is that what you want to talk about?”

Harry sighed and sat back against the cushion, “Yeah. Why not? Are you in a hurry and suggesting we don’t have time to talk about how our day was?”

“No. I didn’t mean that. I’m not in a hurry. Just thought… I don’t know,” you shrugged, “I think it would be nice to talk. I didn’t really know what to expect when you got here I guess.”

“Well, let’s start with this,” he rubbed his hand over the top of your thigh in this way that had you feeling a little calmer. “So tell me how your day was.”

You recounted various parts of your day, but nothing that was particularly interesting. The most fascinating thing had been Harry, obviously. And now he was sitting on your couch with a hand on your thigh and his eyes searing into you.

“And what about you? How was your day?” You hesitantly put your hand over Harry’s and began to play with his rings.

“Normal. Except for the little secret I carried with me all day. Couldn’t stop thinking about last night. How do you feel about everything?”

You lifted your bum to tuck your leg underneath yourself and licked your lips, “Well… I liked everything you did. I had a lot of fun. I want more.”

Harry watched you wiggle and adjust your seating with a smirk, “Okay. We can do more. Are you feeling sad about Tyler or anything like that?”

You shook your head, “No. Absolutely not. I think you kind of erased him from my mind. It’s already better with you.”

He nodded, “Cause if we keep seeing each other, at some point, there’s a chance he’s going to find out. If I have you over one night I’m not gonna want you to keep quiet,” he brought a hand up to your jaw, “I don’t want to rub it in his face or anything, but we can only keep so quiet can’t we?”

You grinned and nodded. Just the thought of your ex hearing his dad fucking you made you wet. What was wrong with you?

“Let’s talk about using colors for things you like and don’t like. Yeah?”

You nodded again.

“Green means you like everything I’m doing. With no hesitation. I’ll ask you occasionally what your color is and if you’re green we’ll keep going. Understood?”

Another nod of your head as you kept your eyes pinned to his.

“Good. Yellow and red will stop everything. For yellow, if you ever feel like you might not like something but you aren’t sure, that’s yellow. We’ll talk about it and change it up if we need to or explore it more if you want. You need to say yellow if you ever get to the point of being unsure and you don’t need to wait for me to check in. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Now red means we’re done with the session. That means I’ve gone too far and didn’t pay attention to your cues. We’ll discuss what went wrong and we’ll never do it again. It means you unquestionably did not like something and that it’s not something you ever want to try again. You’ll say red even if I don’t check in if you get to this point. However, we want to avoid red. That’s what yellow is for. Red means we’re not in synch and this won’t work if we’re not communicating. Makes sense?”

You nodded again.

“Now, explain to me what your colors mean. I want to make sure you understand it clearly so there’s no confusion when it’s needed.”

You cleared your throat and spoke, with as much confidence as you could muster. You already knew about the traffic light system but you’d never been in a relationship where it was going to be used. You appreciated Harry’s thoroughness.

“Green means all good and that I like what’s happening. If something doesn’t feel as good that I want to come back to later or like… I’m not sure if I enjoy it I’ll say yellow. And red means I don’t like something. I’ll tell you my color when you check in but if I feel yellow or red I’ll tell you right away without waiting for you to check. And… red is something we want to avoid,” you licked your lips and nodded.

“Very good. Anything you want to ask or say before we get started? I can just feel the excitement bubbling off of you honey.”

You laughed and looked down at your lap before tilting your head back up to look at him, “I just want you to kind of lead. I loved giving you a blow job last night. I want more of that. Want it like… maybe, even more rough today. I just want to feel like,” you puffed out an embarrassed laugh, “Want to feel like I’m being used. Kind of like you need to teach me a lesson or something. Like I’ve been bad.”

“Oh yeah? You like to be punished then? Maybe you want Daddy to tell you how bad you’ve been? What a naughty girl you are. Only way to set you straight is to fuck your face and spank your ass?” He had a teasing grin on his face.

You swallowed and nodded, “Yeah. Exactly.” You ran your hand up his thigh and kept your eyes on his.

“Do you feel like only good girls get to have orgasms, Y/n?”

You nodded again, “Yeah. Only when I’m good I’m allowed.”

Harry grinned and hummed, “I think I see. Go into your bedroom and take all of the toys out that you like to use on yourself. Line them up on your bed for me so I can take count.”

You got up from the couch and Harry followed you to your bedroom and watched as you pulled a large box from your dresser and then laid it on your bed.

Removing each of your toys and placing them on your comforter.

There was your basic silicon dildo, then the slim one you used on yourself for anal. You had three plugs in different sizes, a clit sucker that had lost charge the last time you used it, a normal-sized purple vibrator, a massaging wand (that was meant to be a back massager but you’d never used it for its intended purpose) then a tiny pocket vibrator you’d only used a handful of times. Plus condoms, lube, and a leather strap that could double as a collar and leash in one.

Harry watched you straighten out everything and picked up the leather strap, “Is this a leash?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I bought it last year but I’ve never used it. Thought it would be fun to try but… well I didn’t want to use it alone in case something went wrong.”

He nodded and kept the leather in his hands as he looked at everything else you had lined up.

“Good. This is excellent. You’ve got some great toys here. Which is your favorite?”

You laughed and ran your hands over the basic vibrator, “I love this. It just vibrates my insides and it’s quiet so I can use it even if my roommate is home. Also this,” you picked up your clit sucker, “It works super fast. Can make me come in like two minutes if I’m in a hurry.”

Harry smiled and took the clit sucker from you to click it on but it was dead.

“Oh… it ran out of charge. I use it a lot.”

He dropped it on your bed and looked you up and down, “Bet you do. Poor thing didn’t ever get her pussy licked properly. Had to take care of herself. But Daddy’s here for that now. Isn’t he?”

You watched his jaw clench as he stepped directly in front of you and he cupped your chin in his palm as you nodded.

“Anything else you use that isn’t here?”

It was like he could read your mind somehow. Like he could see it on your face that you had a little secret.

You nodded and felt your face heat up, “Yeah. One more thing.”

Harry cocked his head, “And where is it?”

You laughed quietly and looked away from his eyes, “It’s in my… bottom.”

He released your face and took a step back, “Get your clothes off.”

You pulled your shirt off quickly and then your pants before moving your hands up to the band of your bra to take it off. You watched Harry closely as you removed every article of fabric that covered you until your panties were on the floor and you were standing naked before him.

“Well? Are you going to show me willingly or do you need me to force you to bend over so I can see what it is you have tucked in your bum?”

Harry knew very well what you had inside of your ass. You had a fourth plug and he wanted to see it. Liked that you’d put it in when you knew he was coming over. You were indeed a dirty little thing and he was going to have a lot of fun with you.

This was what you liked. It’s what you had been wanting. Something about his tone made it clear that he was in charge. The spike of adrenaline that notched its way up every vertebra in your spine gave you a disjointed, hazy sensation that spread over your limbs.

You turned and stepped in toward your bed before leaning down to press your palms onto the mattress next to your bottle of lube. You turned to look over your shoulder at the man who was right behind you, towering over you as he laid his palms on your hips and glued his eyes to the space between your legs and then just up to where you had the prettiest of your anal plugs snuggled tight in your bum.

Harry’s eyes shot to yours and you felt one of his hands drag up your spine to the back of your neck and he pressed your cheek down into the mattress, “When did you put this in?”

“I… after I got home from work today. Two hours ago.”

His hand stayed at the back of your neck as you felt his other hand move toward your bottom and then tap the pink glass plug making you jump, “And why did you put it in?”

“Wanted it to be pretty for you.” You gulped down your saliva and tried peeking at him from your peripheral but it was impossible.

“For me? Well, that was awfully sweet of you. And how did you do it? What is your method of putting one of these in?” He gently twisted the glass a half turn and you moaned.

“Uh… I work myself up thinking about something sexy. Finger myself a little bit and then put lube over everything and slowly twist it in until it’s fit inside.”

“And what did you think about this time that got you all worked up?” His voice was suddenly closer and you could see the outline of him leaning over your back.

You closed your eyes as you felt the fabric of his pants brush against the back of your thighs, “You, Daddy.”

Harry hummed in satisfaction as he let go of the back of your neck, and you felt both of his hands on your ass, keeping you spread for him.

“Has anyone else ever seen how pretty you look with one of these in?”

“No. It’s always just been in private.” You don’t think you’d ever felt in such a vulnerable position with a man before. To have someone standing behind you in your bedroom while you were bent over naked showing him your pink glass anal plug made your skin heat up all over.

“So I’m the first person who’s been given permission to see you like this?”

“Yes. You’re the first.”

“And what should we do with this right now? Hmm? You’re being such a good girl for Daddy I think it’s only fair you choose what’s next.”

You already knew what you wanted. It was all you could think about the whole day. At work, while you ate lunch, on the way home… You wanted his cock down your throat again.

“I want you to fuck my face. Please.”

Harry laughed and you felt him move away, his hands no longer on you anymore, “Is that so? Couldn’t get enough of my cock down your throat, baby?”

You shook your head no with your cheek still smushed in the comforter, “No. I need more. I want to try to be better.”

You heard Harry remove his belt and watched it drop onto the mattress as the buckles clanked together before the sound of a zipper and then fabric hitting the ground had you straining to see behind you.

“Good girls get what they want, Y/n. And since you’re practically being an angel I’ll fuck your face if that’s what you want. Turn around to face me.”

You stood up and faced Harry, noticing he was naked now, his thickened cock in his palm, as he placed his free hand at the back of your head and ran his lips over yours for a moment, mouths slotting together until he broke the kiss and let go of the back of your head, “Pick up the leather strap and get on your knees.”

A small grin quirked up on your face as you did as he said and lowered to your floor, your knees digging into your cotton rug with the leather strap in your hands.

He reached down to tilt your face upward, “Look at this pretty face and those soft lips,” he cooed at you as he pushed at your bottom lip with his thumb, “You sure you want this? Because when I’m done with you you’re gonna have tears running down your cheeks and drool dripping from your swollen lips down your chin. Bruised knees and maybe a bruised throat even. It’s gonna make it hard for you to talk.”

You nodded and tightened your grip on the strap as you looked from his dick to his face, “I want it, Daddy.”

He looked over your face with an amused smile on his lips and bent down to press his lips to yours, “Then Daddy wants it too.”

Harry reached his palm down for the leather strap and wrapped the material around your neck, hooking the thin leather into a notch that was tight, but not so tight you’d lack oxygen.

With his hand stroking his cock right in front of your face he pulled the strap back making your head tilt with it, “Color?”

Your eyes wobbled from the tight fist he had around the strap to his eyes, “Very green.”

Harry gave you a dimpled grin that felt so much sweeter than the moment called for, “Very green.  Good.”

He pulled at the strap, moving your face to his cock, “Get it nice and wet. Want to see that tongue cover every inch of my cock before you’re allowed to suck on it.”

Opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue you began to lap at the skin along his length. Pushing saliva out of your mouth and pressing it over his cock slowly as you kept your eyes up toward his and you could feel the strap pulling at your neck, guiding you along his shaft.

You moaned when you flattened your tongue over his slit and his mouth parted. Even though he didn’t make any noises to indicate he liked it, you could see it on his face.

With every line and curve of his cock wetted, he dragged you back to his tip, pressing it to your lips, “Time to suck now, Y/n. Still want Daddy to fuck your throat?”

You nodded, your lips brushing over his ruddy crown, “Yes.”

“You won’t be able to speak once I’m sliding into the back of your throat,” his finger squeezed the outsides of your neck around the strap, “So you need to pinch me here,” he took your hand and made you hold onto his sturdy thigh, “Do you understand?”

Another nod as you kept your eyes on his.

“Give it a test pinch. Let me see what you’ll do if you need air or need me to stop.”

You pinched his skin under your thumb and pointer finger but Harry tutted at you, “Harder. I need you to be serious about the way you do this so I can feel it, honey. When my balls are tucked against your chin and you’re swallowing around me I’m not gonna feel a puny pinch like that. Try again.”

You puffed out a breath and pinched harder. A pinch you knew he’d feel without question.

“There you go. That’s the one. Stung like a fucker. You ready, baby?”

You smiled, “Ready, Daddy.”

Harry softly shook his head as he looked at you proudly before he forced your mouth back against his tip and the moment you parted your lips he was yanking you down his cock. He didn’t push his whole length in on the first go but he did get deep enough that your eyes widened and you pulled in a deep breath through your nose to prepare for the next thrust.

And the next one was the same; deep but not punishing. And then the third until you’d figured out the rhythm and your tongue cradled the underside of his cock and he let out a deep breath that had you feeling pleased with yourself.

When you felt him slide deeper and your sinuses stung your mouth began to water involuntarily. His deep breaths turned into pants as he kept his hand tight around the strap to hold you in place and he started to thrust deeper.

“Fuckin’ so pretty for me, baby,” he spoke as he looked down at you, hips rocking smoothly, slowly getting you ready for what was to come. “Already drooling and we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”

You couldn’t help the saliva that was dripping out of your mouth. His cock sliding over your tongue and nudging at the roof of your mouth activated your salivary glands.

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked as you peeked up at him.

“Take a deep breath in through your nose,” he spoke.

You sucked oxygen into your lungs as he slid his tip back to your lips and then the sudden plunge of his cock over your tongue had you immediately gagging. With your neck held in place, Harry bucked his hips into your mouth and you felt him curve down your throat, and again, and again.

You began to sputter as you felt tears slip down your cheeks and then suddenly his hips were pressed against you as he rocked in and moaned loudly. You couldn’t breathe as you gagged around him, your natural reflex was to swallow and gurgle.

But it was his deep guttural moan that kept you focused. You were making him feel good. And that was all you wanted.

“That’s it, isn’t it? Like how it feels don’t you, little girl?”

You moaned and tried to look up at him but your eyes were bleary and all you could see was the skin on his hips and the dark ink of his laurel tattoos as he continued pressing you down on him.

“Bet your little plug is feeling so good too… fuck…” Harry pulled himself back as you coughed and a gush of spit dripped down your chin and to the floor.

He chuckled when you tried to tilt forward to put him back in your mouth, “Go on then. Suck Daddy off. Just so desperate to gag on it aren’t you?”

You moaned as you curved your tongue under his cock and lowered yourself. Harry let you take the reins for a bit as you forced your mouth down and felt his tip press past your tonsils and you gagged again with your eyes tightly squeezed shut.

The only thing you had on your brain was to get him off. To please him. You wanted him to come more than you wanted to rub your own clit to get yourself off.

Every time you dipped down and the deeper you went the further away any other thoughts became. Everything was all about getting him to come.

Harry grunted and then you felt the strap pulling at your neck again to hold you in place as he began to fuck himself down your throat.

His cock was already twitching at the way your mouth engulfed him in wet heat, the way your throat constricted around his tip and frenulum every time you gagged and swallowed. His heart was pounding the closer he got to his own release and he recognized you were taking him like a pro. Like you’d been choking on cocks for years. It’d been a long time since anyone he’d been with liked this sort of thing.

And you loved it.

With your palms on his muscled thighs, the gargled noises coming from your mouth, the drool on the floor, and your pussy slippery wet you moaned deeply around him as more tears fell down your skin and mixed with the saliva leaking from your lips.

He pulled back again, letting you suck in just enough air so he could do it all over again. When you felt the thatch of his hair pressing into your nose, the leather strap pinching the skin on your neck as you were held in place, he groaned and you could feel his thighs begin to tremble just before he pulled his cock all the way out of your mouth.

You gasped and coughed as you leaned forward, spit dribbling out of your mouth and making a puddle on your rug.

The nip of the strap on your neck had you looking up at him through wet lashes and then you felt his hands under your arms helping you stand on wobbly legs, “Color?”

You heaved and grasped onto his arms, “Green.”

“Good. I’m gonna finish off inside of your pretty pussy. How’s that sound?”

You nodded, “Yes, Daddy.” You were somewhat knocked off kilter from the sudden change in position as he pushed you onto the bed, making you bend over for him on your hands and knees with your feet hanging off.

He took your hips in his hands and stood behind you, his feet on the floor as you automatically pressed your face into the comforter. You felt the spray of spit over your pussy and you moaned as you arched your back and pushed your bum back toward him.

His hands smoothed down to your ass and you felt his thumb press on the glass piece sticking out of your bum, “Look at how soaked you are, baby. You really do like sucking cock don’t you?”

You smiled and sighed, “Yes. Love it, Daddy.”

Harry grinned, though you couldn’t see it as he painted his thick crown through your puffy folds, slicking himself back and forth, “Fuck yourself on it. Get yourself off on my cock.”

You felt him poking at your entrance so you pressed yourself back as Harry kept his length steady in his hand.

“There you go, baby, just like that. Let me see you work for it, honey.”

You swiveled your hips and pushed yourself down further, feeling his girth open you up.

Harry pressed into you, holding you tight by your hips and then he pushed you further into the bed making you scoot up a few feet. He followed behind you spreading his thighs and getting onto his knees behind you, “Keep going, baby.”

When you felt his hand press at the back of your neck to keep you down you moaned and began to swivel your hips. And even though you were supposed to be the one fucking yourself on him, you could feel his subtle thrusts, working himself into you deeper with his thighs.

The little plug was a tight squeeze in your ass with his cock inside of you but it felt so good. Every movement of your hips made the plug shift slightly and even Harry could feel the hard glass pressing through your anus against his cock in your pussy.

The cry that fell from your mouth when he began twisting the plug inside of you had him chuckle, “You okay, Y/n?”

You whimpered a yes as you continued circling your hips, pressing your cunt over his cock wetly.

But then suddenly Harry let go of your neck and you felt both of his hands on your ass as he held you still and began fucking himself into you.

The switch in sensation had your body tingling as he dipped in so far you felt the wind punched from your lungs.

Harry’s own moans grew louder and more desperate with each strike of his hips against your ass but then he leaned over your back and you felt his fingers sliding through your crease until he bumped into your clit and ran the pads of his fingers in circles against your neglected nub.

You gasped at the relief as Harry rocked inward, his hips pasted to your ass.

“Daddy it’s so deep!” You whimpered with his cock fully impaled into your cunt. He couldn’t have been deeper if he tried.

“I know baby,” he inhaled breathily with a moan as he continued pressing in, in, in… his back and his thighs flexing with every push.

He wasn’t going hard but he was achingly deep with his fingers at your clit and the plug tight in your bum, everything felt just right. But when you felt his lips on your neck you began to quiver and you could feel that yummy sparkle start to spread over your thighs and through your core.

His breath against the shell of your ear sent chills down your neck and over your shoulders as your body began to tense and your walls gripped his cock tightly.

“You need to come, baby? Yeah? It’s feeling so good, isn’t it?”

Your mouth dropped open as you choked out a pathetic wail, “Oh my god! Yes!”

When your pussy began to spasm over him he groaned at the feel of you coming, “There we go… Can’t help yourself, can you? Know you never had it like this before, honey. Your pussy deserves to feel so good,” Harry’s words fell over your neck and you could hear how far gone he was as he babbled filth into your ear, “Needed Daddy’s cock to make it better, yeah?”

You couldn’t answer as you clenched the blankets in your fists and your body shivered in your orgasm.

“Fuck baby… squeezing around me so good,” he spoke through clenched teeth, “Gonna stuff your little fertile pussy full of my come, okay?”

You whined an obnoxiously loud Yes, Daddy! into the room and you heard him cough out a deep groan before his cock began to pump and throb inside of you. Your own orgasm still making your pussy clench around him tightly, milking his shaft and sucking him dry.

Harry rocked into you and fucked you forward, making you flatten to the bed as he finished himself inside you just like he said he was going to do.

You panted in deep breaths as he kissed your shoulder blades and he shifted behind you, “You okay, Y/n?”

You sputtered out a small laugh and smiled, “So fucking good.”

Harry pulled his cock from you and rolled you to your back. You felt him unhooking the strap around your neck and pulling it from you as you opened your eyes to look up at him. Lifting a hand to press over his heart you sighed, “Thank you.”

Harry paused and settled his gaze on yours as one side of his mouth curved up in a soft smile, “So sweet,” he brought a hand up to your cheek, “Thank you, Y/n.”

He helped you clean up as you laid flat on your back, still out of it, but with an easy smile on your face, “How was that?”

“Harry, that was… it was so good. I want more, though. Harder too.”

He laughed as he lay on his side next to you and smoothed his palm over your belly and squeezed at your tits, “Understood. We can try a few new things next time. See what else you like. We just want to ease into this, though. Okay?”

You nodded as you smiled at him. This was something else you loved. The way he was with you after sex. Tyler didn’t bother with you once he’d gotten off. But Harry seemed to enjoy basking with you after.

“Did you eat before I came over?”

You laughed and rolled your eyes before shaking your head, “I don’t usually eat dinner until later and you got here before my usual dinner time.”

You felt Harry’s thumb press over your hardened nipple, “I see. Well, we need to make sure we’re eating, don’t we? Let’s go get you some food.”

. . .

“Harry please?!” You were trying to be patient with his rule of slowly introducing things but he insisted on not diving right into everything. You wanted him to fuck your ass.

You woke up that morning with Harry’s hard cock pressing into your bottom. So you slid yourself up and down his shaft until he woke up completely and he slowly fucked you with his arms wrapped tight around your middle and his chest pressed into your back lying on your sides, your pussy filled with him until you were both coming in that sleepy, early morning daze.

Harry laughed from behind you after he’d just filled you with his come, “I just made you come, Y/n,” he still had you in his arms as he spoke against your neck from behind.

“I want you inside of my ass. You wouldn’t do it yesterday. Only put your fingers in. I want to feel your big cock, Daddy.”

Harry did love how much you liked sex but sometimes it did come as a surprise. A puff of his breath hit the shell of your ear, “Well right now I’m not physically able to anyway. Need to recover for a while because I just came. But I can give you something else. We can use your dildo if you want. How does that sound?”

You pouted but you knew better than to complain. Harry had already shown you so much in such a short span of time. It was Sunday morning and you two had been enjoying each other all weekend, getting to know one another.

“Okay.”

Harry released you from his arms and you jumped when his palm landed down on your sore bottom, “Hands and knees.”

You adjusted yourself as he asked and watched him hop off your bed to open up your box of toys. He picked up the slim anal dildo and your regular-sized silicon dildo before kneeing up behind you and placing his palms over your bottom. You felt the cool wetness from the lube he poured over your ass and then felt his fingers pressing it gently inside of you, making you push back into his hand.

“Want one here, and here?” He poked at your pussy entrance with his free hand, “Or just anal right now?”

You turned to look at him behind you, “Maybe just the one for now. My pussy is so sensitive after everything we did yesterday.” You laughed.

Harry grinned at you and nodded, “Fair enough.”

He started by fingering you. It was slow and he moved his free hand over your bum softly, “Probably gonna get rock hard again just watching this. So pretty back here. Little pussy dripping with my come, your ass opening up for my fingers...”

Despite your pussy being a bit wrecked from Harry’s big cock, you were still wet and turned on. Clearly.

Harry moved his fingers out and then dipped in to kiss your hole. You felt his lips peck gently over you and then he picked up the dildo, adding more lube to it.

“Can you turn to look at me? Want to be able to see your face at first so I can make sure you’re feeling good.”

You turned to look at him over your shoulder. He was so handsome. Thick curls all wild and strewn about from sleep and sex, his strong chest gently rising and falling, pink lips curved up in a smile…

He lifted the slim toy up so you could see it, “Ready?” He asked as he smeared his thumb over your anus.

You nodded with a smile, “Yes.”

He lowered his gaze to your ass and you felt the tip of the toy press into your anus. You tilted your hips down and arched your back for a better angle as you kept your eyes on his face.

He was slow and steady with his movements but you were used to the dildo by then. As he pushed it past your hole and dipped it in as far as it would comfortably go on the first thrust you moaned softly.

“Feels okay?” He moved his eyes from where he was working you open to your face.

“Feels good.” You nodded and licked your lips.

It was hard to explain how it felt to have your ass filled with a toy. It was interesting. But a really good kind of interesting. An interesting that you craved and you just knew that having Harry inside of you would be even better. A warm thick cock attached to a handsome, strong man that you could trust would just be the best.

When he began to thrust into you his lips parted at the sight and you swayed your hips slightly as the toy began to take up that space and bump into whatever was in there that had your body shaking.

Harry grinned, “You okay?” He knew you were. He just liked hearing you tell him how good you were feeling.

You groaned and stitched your brows together as you nodded, ‘Yes, Daddy…”

It gave you that ache that you never experienced with vaginal sex. It was something so deep and full feeling, so raunchy and vulgar. You loved it.

“You’re shaking already, baby. Is this what happens when you do it yourself?”

You panted, “Yeah. It’s like my body just can’t stop. It feels really good.” Even your words were shaky.

Harry pumped the toy in and out and then used his other hand to slide delicately over your folds and up to your clit, “Want me to rub you here? Or is it too sensitive?”

The pads of his long fingers stroking softly over your clit was exactly what you needed. You gasped and dropped your head with your mouth dropped open, “Don’t stop. Just like that, Daddy.”

So he didn’t stop. Harry did it exactly right. It was perfect with his gentle fingers on your bud, soft thrusts that he deepened as your moans grew louder and your body shook harder. He could tell you could take more and that was quite exciting. It meant you might be ready for his cock soon enough.

“Oh, honey…” Harry breathed, “Fucking so pretty. Just dripping and clenching. Gonna come for Daddy?”

You nodded as your head hung down. You were already two steps away from your orgasm. That was another thing about anal. It was a guarantee you’d come and depending on the moment you could come very fast. And having Harry fuck you with your dildo like he was with his fingers slipping back and forth on your clit, it was one of those moments.

Your whole body began to burn as your muscles tensed and you cried out, “I’m coming, Daddy! Oh my god! Oh my god!”

Harry held back his laugh of surprise. He couldn’t believe how hard your body was shivering and the way you clamped over the toy, he could hardly slip it in any further so he let you roll your hips and shake and cry as he kept the pads of his fingers on your clit. It was the fastest he’d ever seen any woman come. And he knew there was so much to explore with you. You two were just getting started.

You collapsed onto your tummy the moment Harry pulled the toy from you and he kissed his way up from your bum to your shoulders, “How was that, baby? Did I do it right?”

You smiled to yourself with your eyes closed, “Perfect. So good. But I want your cock next time.”

Harry laughed and pulled you into his arms, as seemed to be the norm. He ran a hand over your cheek and kissed your forehead, “What time does your roommate come back?”

You looked up at him and placed your palm on the butterfly tattoo, “I think early afternoon. Probably should go before she gets here, huh?”

Harry shrugged, “If you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to,” you smiled at him.

“Okay. Then I’ll make you breakfast. How’s that sound?”

. . .

You learned quickly that Harry, while loving to be rough with you in bed, had an innate need to take care of you at the same time. You got used to him fucking the life out of you and then making you something to eat afterward.

It was usually during the time he was in your kitchen, naked, making you a meal that you learned about one another. He asked you lots of questions. About your parents, your job, your friends, and even things like what your favorite television show was.

You learned that he and his ex co-parented while raising Tyler and they always got along just fine but they never really got past that casual stage in their relationship before she got pregnant. Tyler had been an accident baby. Despite Harry wearing condoms he got his ex pregnant. They were both seeing other people by the time she realized it and they never saw the need to get married.

And Harry learned that your mom mostly raised you. You did see your dad once in a while when he was around but for the most part, he wasn’t in your life. He was in the military and your parents married young when they found out she was pregnant. But he was hardly ever there to help raise you. She wound up divorcing him when she learned he was sleeping with other women. You hadn’t seen him in over a year when you told him that story.

Getting closer to Harry was easy by the time you’d been sleeping with him for a couple of months. He was exactly what you wanted in a partner, but that was dangerous because you were certain the arrangement you had with him was always meant to be casual. So you tried not to let yourself overthink things with him. But that was hard because of how attentive he was and how he just seemed to get you without even trying.

The connection you had with him was so much better than it was with Tyler. Leaps and bounds better. You were thankful Tyler was just a part of your past now. You realized, partly thanks to Harry, that you deserved a hell of a lot better than your ex. You kind of wished Harry would suggest making things a little more exclusive. Because he was all you could really think about. You felt like if there was anyone you did deserve, well maybe that could be Harry.

But those thoughts and those feelings were pushed way way down and swallowed up by your better judgment. You couldn’t let yourself get too lost in him. Not until he gave you some sign that he felt the same or wanted more of you. Because you were most certainly not going to be the one to tell him what was really happening to you under the surface. You had to keep working to make sure those emotions stayed in check.

You didn’t see him every week, and maybe the fact that you didn’t have full access to him was what was making you feel the things you were. Sometimes you drove yourself crazy wondering what he was up to on evenings you were free when he was busy. You didn’t know if maybe there was someone else he might be interested in. You were too scared to ask him that. It could be possible you supposed, because Harry was the whole package. Any woman would throw themselves at the chance to date him. You were sure he wasn’t having sex with anyone else because you two weren’t using condoms and he told you that you would both be honest if that needed to change. But that didn’t make you feel all that much better because your feelings for him were starting to sprout big green leaves and take root deep in your heart. It was too much.

And that became exhausting to tamp down.

. . .

Harry’s chest was still rising and falling rapidly after you’d just swallowed down every drop of his come. You wiped the tears from your face and the drool off your chin as he helped you stand up.

The plan had been to try anal sex for the first time that night. Harry had been using your little dildo to get you ready, your plugs helped, and his fingers too. You’d been begging him for it but he always wanted to take things easy. One step at a time he said. And he meant it. He only introduced one or two new things every time you saw him.

“Bend over the bed, sweetheart.”

You did as he said as your head swirled with thoughts and feelings you didn’t want to have surfaced.

He was gentle with you as he placed his palm on your butt cheek to pull at it and used his other hand to twist and slowly bring the plug out.

He hissed when he saw your puckered hole and he dipped two fingers in, pressing into your bum in the way only Harry could.

You hid your face in the crook of your arm and felt the moisture from the tears that had been forced from your eyes when he was gagging you with his cock.

And the way your heart was pounding in your chest, you could hardly hear him asking you a question.

“Hey,” Harry lifted you up and sat down with you on the bed, “Are you okay?”

All his check-ins and his softness, those eyes looking at you with such care, and the way his voice and hands comforted you had you tearing up again. But this time the tears were coming from emotion.

“I’m okay,” your lip quivered and you turned away from him. You felt silly to get so overemotional but you couldn’t help it.

You felt Harry shift on the bed and then pull your back against his chest as he scooted into your pillows against your headboard, “Don’t say you’re okay when you’re not. Tell me what happened.”

You sniffed and took a deep breath, trying to control the way your heart wanted you to burst into mawkish tears that would surely have him ending the whole thing with you.

“I can’t…” you inhaled sharply, “It’s fine…”

Harry gripped your chin and made you turn your head to look at him, “You need to communicate to me what happened so I can fix it. I can’t make this better if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

You blinked and a gush of tears were pushed from your lashes as you shook your head and kept your mouth shut.

“Okay. That’s okay. Let’s just sit here for a little while. Take a deep breath…” he smoothed his palm over your arm and it made your heart blossom even more, those windy sprouts trying to work budding flowers open, but that only made you cry harder.

He tried to calm you down. He was doing everything right; holding you close to his chest, speaking quietly into your ear, running his gentle hands over your skin… but that was the problem. It all felt too good. It all felt too real.

You moved yourself out of his arms and climbed off your bed to find your sweater, “I… uh…” you looked around your floor and grabbed the material to pull over your head, “Need some sleep I think. Sorry. Maybe we can see each other another night,” your words tumbled out unsteadily.

Harry followed after you as he slid his briefs up his legs, “What’s going on? Y/n you need to talk to me now,” he turned you around to look at him.

You kept your eyes on his inky swallows and shook your head, “I can’t.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you looked up at him. That was the last thing you wanted him to think, “It’s me. It’s not you. I just need to be alone.”

You heard him sigh, “Is that really what you want, Y/n?”

You nodded.

And with that, he let go of your arms and dressed himself in silence. You held back any further tears as you watched him with his back turned to you as he slid his t-shirt on over his head and then put his wallet and cell phone into his back pockets.

When he picked up his leather duffel bag he turned to look at you and his expression was unreadable but he stood in front of you, cupped the back of your head with his palm, and kissed your temple before opening your bedroom door and seeing himself out of your apartment.

The moment you heard your front door click shut you sat down on your floor and let yourself go completely. Though you did control your volume. You didn’t need your roommate hearing and then coming in to check on you.

You needed to break down and face your feelings and those little niggling thoughts once and for all. You didn’t know what to do with them but you needed to allow them to come out of you because you’d been pretending with Harry and that wasn’t fair to him or to you.

It wasn’t like you were in love with him, but you were feeling things that you knew would quickly slip into that realm. He was a dream and you wanted him to yourself. But how could you know if he felt the same unless you asked? And if you asked and he didn’t think of you the way you thought of him well that would be that. Surely, he wouldn’t want to keep entertaining you the way he was if you were falling for him. He was too kind to allow that to happen. He’d break it off and send you on your way before things got too real for you.

And that would devastate you.

A/N: Ooops 🤭 We have to have a tiny bit of angst in order to move this plot forward! Hope you enjoyed my loves! Part 4 in one week! xoxo

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[fluentmoviequoter]

Kojo Bradford, Wingman

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader (+ the one and only Kojo)

Summary: Tim is (still) a bachelor, until Kojo decides to change that.

Warnings: FLUFF! Kojo's thoughts (italicized) are from 101 Dalmatians

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

A/N: KOJO!!!

It was plain to see that my old pet needed someone. But if it were left up to Tim, we’d be bachelors forever. He was married to his work. Catching bad guys… Oh, he’s intelligent enough, as humans go. And I think you could say that Tim is a rather handsome animal in his way. I could see no reason why my pet didn’t deserve an attractive mate. At least, I was determined to do my best. Of course, dogs are a pretty poor judge of human beauty. But I had a rough idea of what to look for… It was a problem. A real problem… Well, now that’s a bit more like it! It was almost too good to be true… Ah, they’re heading for the park. A perfect meeting place, if I could only arrange it.

Kojo has the frisbee in his mouth, and Tim is squatted, waiting for him to return with it. Suddenly, though, Kojo sprints in the other direction.

“Kojo! You- Boot, get back here!” Tim yells, running after him with the leash in his hand.

✯✯✯✯✯

The park is one of your favorite places to hang out and relax. Sitting on a bench, you glance up from your book when you hear the water in the small pond ripple. You don't, however, see a dog slowing as he trots toward you.

I couldn’t depend on Tim. He’d settle on the grass, and that would be it. No, it was all up to me. Well…

Something lands in your lap, and you move your book to the side to look.

“Oh, hi there,” you say, smiling as you pat the dog’s head.

At first, I had no particular plan, just anything to attract attention.

“Who are you supposed to be with, buddy?” you ask, running your hand over his collar until you find his name tag. “Kojo?”

His tail wags and your smile widens as you look around for his owner.

“Kojo!” someone yells.

You look away from Kojo, who doesn’t move his wide, puppy gaze from you. The man stepping around the tree searching for Kojo is undeniably attractive, and you smile when his eyes meet yours.

“I think I met a friend of yours,” you say as he hooks Kojo’s leash to his collar.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes.

“No need, Kojo’s a sweetie.”

“Well, thank you.” 

Nodding, you return your attention to your book as Kojo lifts his head to look at his owner.

“What were you thinking, buddy?” the man asks quietly.

Glancing at your watch, you notice it has gotten later than you realized. Sliding your book into your bag, you stand and walk in the opposite direction of Kojo.

For a while, it seemed to work. At least they had seen one another. Things were going along first-rate. But for some strange reason, she left!

✯✯✯✯✯

Kojo pulls on his leash, moving as quickly as possible toward your retreating figure. He's practically dragging Tim, but he needs to catch you.

“Kojo! What is your problem? Stop!” Tim demands, holding the leash tightly as he follows Kojo as well as he can.

But I wasn’t giving up. I was determined that, somehow, they just had to meet.

Kojo catches up to you, and Tim notices a moment too late what Kojo is doing.

✯✯✯✯✯

You hear Kojo bark lowly just before he walks before you, his leash digging into your legs as he keeps circling. As you turn with his movement, you run into his handsome owner from a few minutes ago. Your hands are on his chest as his arms instinctively wrap around you.

“I am so sorry,” he apologizes, trying to get Kojo to walk back around.

“It’s fine,” you promise. “Just don’t-“

Before you can say ‘tip over,’ he leans too far, accidentally falling backward and pulling you with him. You land on top of him, his arms still around you.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” you ask.

Kojo barks, and you look at him, smiling as you see his tail wagging quickly.

“I’m fine. Are you?”

Nodding, you move sideways so one of your hips is on the ground as you reach down and uncurl the leash from your joined legs.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. Standing, he offers his hands and asks, “Please let me help.”

“Thanks.”

“Kojo,” he chides. “I really don’t know what made him do that. He’s never done anything like this before.”

“Well, no, I can’t imagine he has. He’s a sweetheart.”

“You- are you not mad?”

You laugh, and he soon joins you. Now that he thinks of it, the situation really is funny. Kojo sits beside you, looking like he’s smiling.

Offering your hand, you introduce yourself.

“Tim Bradford,” he replies, shaking your hand kindly. “And you’ve met Kojo.”

“I think Kojo might have done that on purpose,” you whisper. “In which case, he’s a pretty good wingman.”

Tim smiles at you as he agrees, “Yes, he is.”

✯✯✯✯✯

✯✯✯✯✯

“Kojo!” you call, setting your bag by the door.

He makes a lot of noise as he runs to greet you, but you still hear Tim’s grumbled complaints.

“Always want to see my dog before me,” he says.

“Hey, without this beautiful dog right here, I wouldn’t even know you and you’d still be devastatingly single.”

Tim rolls his eyes, offering a hand. He wraps his hand around yours, pulling you into his chest and kissing your forehead. Kojo barks, looking toward his leash, which hangs by the door.

“I don’t know what’s worse, that you won’t let me forget Kojo introduced us or that he seems to know,” Tim muses.

“He’s a good boy.”

Shaking his head, Tim clips Kojo’s leash on, holding it in one hand while the other wraps around your shoulders.

Once you're at the park, you sit on the grass beside Tim, watching him and Kojo play. When Kojo gets tired, panting heavily, he walks to your side and lays down, placing his head in your lap just as he did the day you and Tim met.

“Just don’t knock us over this time,” you tell him, laying your hand on his head as you pet him.

“I wouldn’t be completely opposed to it,” Tim hums as he joins you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What is Kojo wearing?” Angela asks. “And why is Kojo here?”

“He’s wearing a tie,” Tim answers. “I didn’t choose it, don’t ask. And he’s here because we’re on our way somewhere.”

“You’re proposing,” Angela realizes.

“Yes,” Tim answers as Kojo barks once in reply.

“That is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I will never let you live this down.”

“I- I can’t even care right now.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Kojo, my handsome boy!” you yell, kneeling so Kojo can run into your arms. “Tim, my other handsome boy.”

Tim asked you to meet him in the park after work, and you’ve been looking forward to it all day.

“Kojo, lead the way,” Tim calls.

You furrow your brows but don’t hesitate to loop your arm through Tim’s and follow Kojo down a path to the bench where you first met Tim. Fairy lights are strung in the tree above it, and while you watch Kojo jump onto the bench, you miss Tim pulling his arm from yours.

When you turn toward him, Tim is kneeling on the path, looking up at you with a small velvet box in his hand.

“Tim,” you gasp.

“This was Kojo’s idea, too, but let me finish before you say anything, okay?”

Nodding quickly, you can’t bring yourself to look away from Tim even when Kojo nudges his head against your hand, arriving at your side.

“Even though I didn’t know what I was missing, meeting you completed me, you completed me. And I will never be able to tell you enough – or thank Kojo enough,” Tim says, licking his lips when he sees the tears in your eyes. “So, will you do me…” Kojo barks again, and Tim adds, “me and Kojo the honor of marrying me?”

Unable to speak, you drop toward Tim, trusting him to catch you as you cling to him, nodding excitedly as tears stream down your face.

“Kojo,” Tim warns.

You laugh when you feel a leash drag across your side. Tim catches him by the collar, bringing him into the hug.

“I love you,” you whisper. “And I love you, Kojo. Thank you, buddy.”

[hyuneskkami]

y.j ✦ baggy jeans ! ༄.°

𝓎ang jeongin x f!reader

masterlist . . . ✰

𓆩♡𓆪 𝒶n : no plot just fluff , I got bored and wanted to write something for innie <3 plus, i’ve been obsessed with baggy jeans (the song) and I can’t help but vibe to it everytime it plays.. anyway! hope you like it (:

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌arnings + tags : very short , non-idol!au , lovey dovey jeongin and reader , vibing to music , hand holding , food mentioned , plain fluff , no real plot , mentioned songs: fein (playboi carti) & baggy jeans (nct u) ;

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌c : 0.6k

“we’ll be late, y/n-nie! we’re gonna miss the start of the movie,” jeongin reminded me.

“i’m almost done, innie, wait,” I whined. I finished eating the last few bites of my ramyeon, and hit pause on the kdrama I was watching on netflix.

I quickly got up while untying my hair, and picked up my earphones, chapstick, and phone.

“ready!” I grinned at him. he smiled back, his eyes crinkling. oooh, he did the cutesy smile. i’m down so bad-

“hold on,” he whispered. bringing his hands up to my head, he combed his fingers through my hair, smoothening it down. he flipped it back properly and let my bangs rest neatly, framing my face. “cute.”

heat crept up my neck as I looked away and pulled him along with me.

“hey! you said we’d be late! come on, then,” I urged him.

we stepped outside and he locked the door as I put my socks and shoes on.

he did the same, and then we took the elevator down to the ground floor. 

I snapped a quick mirror selfie in the elevator with jeongin, making a note of our unintentionally matching outfits. 

it was around 11:20 at night when we left home, and started walking towards the theatre. a new one opened up in just the building next to ours, which we decided to try out. 

we walked for a few minutes, sharing my earphones, vibing together to playboi carti’s fein. 

as soon as we reached the theatre, jeongin lined up to get some popcorn and cola while I went to the restroom, and then returned.

intertwining our fingers, we got to our seats quickly and munched on the popcorn together, occasionally sipping some cola from the same bottle. 

it was about 2:00 a.m. when the movie ended and we were returning home. the roads were empty, with just a few street lights flickering. 

my earphones had died after being used for just a while because I had forgotten to charge them, and jeongin forgot his at home. 

since there was no one around, I turned on my phone and played my music out loud. 

／✯ 。jeongin’s pov . . .

nct u’s baggy jeans started playing from y/n’s phone suddenly, startling me. 

she started vibing to it, singing along and making up her own dance moves. she turned around, walking backwards now, and put her hood up. she was mouthing the lyrics along with the song.

I laughed and did the same with my jacket’s hood, and jogged closer towards her. 

she began singing the pre-chorus, her favourite part. her face was illuminated by just the flickering street lamp.

“우린 one, two, three, 거리로 surfin’, 거리로 surfin’,

and I jump, jump, jump, 하늘에 닿길, 하늘에 닿길,

bring it down, down, down, 무게를 내려둬,

모든 선택은 매번 stereo,

you ain’t know, know, know what’s in my pocket,

내 주머니 속에 내가 뭘 더 가졌는지,

so watch me drippin’ that,

흘러내려, slay,”

I continued the chorus, harmonising with her. each of our smiles reflecting the brightness in the other’s eyes.

her phone was now in her pocket, her hands out, vibing to the music. 

“in my baggy, baggy, baggy, baggy,

baggy, baggy jeans, hoo,

in my baggy, baggy, baggy, baggy,

baggy, baggy jeans,

in my baggy, baggy, baggy, baggy,

baggy, baggy jeans, yeah,

우린 흘러내리지, you know what I mean,”

she looked like she was a rockstar, performing the song live.

beautiful. ethereal.

we continued listening to her playlist till we reached home, stumbling into our house, exhausted. 

a thin layer of sweat gleamed on her face, giving her a gentle glow, making my heart race. 

how could someone be that perfect at just… existing?

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Leon Day

Summary: The reader makes Dean breakfast on Leon Day and explains what the day is. While she has some fun things planned, Dean shares some of his own future plans with her...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,000ish

Warnings: language, 15x20 finale spoiler (fic takes place post 15x20 though)

A/N: Enjoy!

_______

“Y/N,” said Dean, scratching his head when he came into the kitchen for breakfast. “I haven’t been in a coma lately right?”

“No...why would you ask that?” you said. Dean pointed behind him to the string lights hanging in the hall, colorful lights twinkling along the wall. “Oh that? It’s Leon day.”

“Who’s Leon?” he asked, padding over to his usual stool, yawning and curling into himself. You ruffled his hair and slid a cup of coffee in front of him.

“It’s June 25th. Exactly six months from Christmas,” you said.

“Is it Leon’s birthday?” he asked. “Whoever he is?”

“No silly,” you said, returning your attention to making pancakes.

“Can I have chocolate chips?” he asked. “Please.”

“Uh we’re out of chips but blueberries instead?” you asked, holding up the package.

“That’s fine,” he said, spinning in his seat. “So...lights?”

“Well Leon is Noel backwards and since it’s six months from Christmas it’s kinda like a mini-Christmas day,” you said.

“Never heard of it.”

“Well most people have never heard of a devil’s trap but that’s a thing that exists too,” you said. He hummed and sipped on his coffee, crossing his legs on his seat. He looked younger like that and you smiled, hoping he was in a good mood this morning. “I only decorated a little bit.”

“So it’s like Christmas? I didn’t get you any presents,” he said.

“We don’t have to do presents. It’s more about, doing things together, making cookies, having a nice dinner together. Maybe take a day off from hunting,” you said. You put your back to him and finished with his pancakes, dropping some fresh blueberries on top for him when you were all done. You hummed and slid the plate in front of him, giving him a fork and knife along with a glass of water.

“I uh, actually wanted to talk to you about hunting. Sam and I saw something online,” he said. You sighed and poured more batter into the pan.

“A new case?” you asked, forcing a smile into your voice.

“This big house in Lawrence. Not obnoxiously big but it’s big, big enough for like eight people I’d say,” he said.

“Is it haunted?” you said, watching the batter bubble and begin cooking.

“It’s for sale. We were thinking of buying it. He was gonna talk to Eileen and I said I’d talk to you about it.”

“About…”

“Buying it,” said Dean. You turned and frowned at him, Dean shoveling his second pancake into his mouth. “What?”

“First off, chew. Second, why would you guys buy a house? You’re not suddenly going to become the Property Brothers are you?”

“No silly. The house would be for us. Obviously we’d ward the shit out of it but yeah, house. What do you think?” 

“Why would we get a house?” you asked. Dean rolled his eyes and you put the rest of the pancakes on a plate, bringing them over and taking a seat beside him. “Like, is there something wrong with the bunker?”

“Nothing wrong with her. But Jack and Cas are up working in heaven and the world’s not so scary...and I did have a house in heaven when I was there.”

“You still haven’t told me about whatever space time continuum crap you broke in order to be back from the dead.”

“Jack just said it was alright so I’m back and considering you weren’t up in Heaven like we all thought you were, we all decided on a do over. I missed you and I liked that house but I want you in that house with me.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying...let’s go live in a house and maybe I hunt every once in a while, maybe I run point for some other hunters, if we decide to go that route. Maybe I do something different for work. But I’m also saying, I like waking up and having pancakes and having random holidays and being happy and I can decide to do what I want, for me. I want a warm happy house with my family. You can decorate it for whatever holidays you want if I can have that.”

“We can have that,” you said quietly. You reached over and he already was meeting you there, hugging you with a happy sigh. “You’re really ready to leave all this behind?”

“We can always come visit this place. But I think our family should grow up the way we didn’t get to. We deserve that at the very least.”

“And you said you didn’t get any presents,” you said, holding him tight.

“I may have known you were planning this,” he teased. “I waited a little longer to share the news than I was hoping to but I figured you wouldn’t mind your Leon day present.”

“No, no I don’t,” you said. He kissed you and grinned before he hopped up. He dug around in the pantry and pulled out a bag of peppermint white chocolate chips. “Well now you’re just bragging.”

“I heard we were making cookies,” he said, dropping them on the counter. “Later though. After my yummy breakfast.”

“After your breakfast,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Love you. Best mini Christmas ever.”

“Love you too sweetheart. This Christmas you’ll have a whole house to decorate. Think you can handle that?”

“Absolutely. As long as I get some help?”

“Yeah I think you can swing that,” he said. He kissed your temple and hummed, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “So where’s my present in all this? I mean, I got a house and like a life changing decision for you and I got pancakes?”

“You fucking love pancakes,” you said.

“Guilty as charged,” he said. 

“I’ll make you them every single day if you want, how’s that sound?”

“Every single day?” he hummed.

“For the next week.” He chuckled and nodded. “Love you.”

“Love you back Dean.”

___________

[fxrmuladaydreams]

Hey hey!!! I don't think you understand how excited I am so happy oscar weekend 🧡🧡

Could I request either 5 - “I’m literally naked on your bed and you’re talking about work?” or 7 - “I’m trying to be sexy and you’re laughing!”

!! oscar weekend requests are now closed !!

warnings: implied smut

You could tell Oscar was stressed. You’d known him long enough now that you were a pro at reading him. The smile he painted on his face couldn’t hide his tense shoulders or the way his eyes seemed to narrow at the mention of the current car.

It was understandable, after finishing the season last year with podium after podium after podium. He probably feels as though the team is moving backwards, while he’s eager to stand on the podium once again.

But knowing your boyfriend, there was always one sure fire way to make him relax. You dressed in his favorite little lingerie set and laid yourself out on your bed. You grin when you hear him come into the apartment.

“Darling?” He calls out.

“In here!” You call back to him.

He walks in looking down at his phone, completely missing the sight in front of him.

“The meetings were terrible today.” He grumbles, setting his bag down. “I mean, I guess they were fine. We’re doing fine enough with the current car but there’s no upgrades anytime soon.” He sighs as he rummages through the closet.

“Os?”

“I just thought after last year we’d have our shit together, you know?”

“Os-”

“I really don’t want to fall behind again.” He groans.

“Oscar!”

He finally turns to you, his mouth dropping open as his eyes travel over your body.

“I’m literally naked on your bed, and you’re talking about work?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“How stupid of me.” He laughs.

You scoff, standing up, reaching past him into the closet to grab one of his shirts.

“I can’t believe you! I’m trying to be sexy and you’re laughing!”

“No, no, no! I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at me.” He pulls the shirt from your hands and tosses it away. He plants his hands on your hips, pulling you to him and rests his forehead against yours. “I’m laughing at how incredibly stupid I am to not notice my absolute beauty of a girlfriend laid out for me all nice and pretty.” He kisses you, then trails his lips down your neck, softly biting at your pulse point. “Can you forgive me?”

You tug his head away from your neck with a hand in his hair and look into his big brown puppy dog eyes.

“I think I can, though I may need another form of apology.”

You squeal when he lifts you up and lays you back down on the bed.

“I can definitely do that.” He smirks.

[ast4tarion]

hey!! could we get a one shot abt submissive and sensitive mike :) not really any specifics maybe just like pet names and whines and stuff

YOU KNOW WHATS UP that man is a huge whimperer godbless 🙏🙏🙏

cws; sub!mike, gn reader with slight dom, lots of petnames and whining, oral/handjob, swallowing

Mike has definitely been more of a giver then a receiver so far. You assumed that’s just naturally what gets him off the most and you trust that if he wanted something from you he’d ask. However you can clearly tell he’s been hot and bothered all day. He kept shifting around in his jeans when you came over at lunch and when you came up behind him while he was doing the dishes his whole body tensed and he was biting his lip holding back any reaction to the tiny amount of friction you provided him.

A couple hours had passed and now you and him had the house to yourselves as Abby was at a sleepover with one of her school friends. The two of you decided to watch a movie but every innocent touch to his knee or leaning your head against his shoulder nearly made him flinch.

Around the middle of the movie you started to get bored with the plot and instead decided to give in to what you were thinking about all day, placing your hand on his knee and sliding it up to rub his thigh.

You weren’t looking but Mike’s eyes widened, he immediately shifted his hips to try and hide that the tiniest of touches made his cock throb in his pants. You kept rubbing a couple more times getting closer and closer to his waistband when you finally decided to look over.

He already seemed like a mess, lip being worked between his teeth and his eyes wide.

“Do you wanna……?”

“It’s just the two of us tonight, we can do whatever we’d like,” you smiled an innocent smile at him admiring how his cheeks were already red at the thought of that freedom.

He immediately slid his hands around your waist and squeezed the way you liked it, pressing up to kiss you with intensity. You reciprocated immediately and he began to lower you backwards on the couch so he could lie between your legs but you detached your arms from around his back and stopped yourself before you were fully laying down.

“I was thinking we could do something different tonight, baby?”

“I’m listening,” he responded, his eyes focused on how your lips got all pretty and flushed when the two of you made out.

You reached your hand out to his chest and gently pushed him back to where he was originally sitting, sliding from the couch to the floor and sitting on your knees between his legs. “You always give to me and you’re always focused on my pleasure and if I get to cum but you haven’t let me take care of you, my pretty boy?”

His whole cheeks were flushed a visible red that you didn’t see often unless you brought out the petnames. His mouth was agape and he stammered, clearly loosing a little more control as you rubbed your head against the inside of his knee.

“I-um, we could definitely, ah-“ he couldn’t focus with you looking so pretty between his thighs.

“I need a yes or a no baby, if it makes you nervous we can stop whenever you’d like.”

“Yes. Yes.” The first yes came out desperate, and he looked embarrassed with himself for how quickly it tumbled out of his mouth.

He was incredibly worked up and you hadn’t even touched him yet, his thin pyjama pants showed the outline of his quickly hardening length. You properly palmed it through the fabric, smiling as he strained harder and harder against the thin fabric. You only teased him through the fabric a little before pulling his pants down enough for his whole cock to spring out.

He’d been controlling himself so well today and you think he deserved a little reward for that. You wrapped your hand around his length which had already begun to drip precum down the shaft and gave it a single pump before you heard a loud low whine from above you.

It took you by surprise because Mike was never that vocal in bed, preferring to focus on you and stay quiet. He must have known that too because he slapped his hand over his mouth immediately, avoiding your gaze.

You knew you’d just uncovered something though and you’d use it to your full advantage. You gave it a couple more pumps and coated his cock in his own shiny slick and a couple whimpers leaked out of his mouth. Sweet little sounds that rolled off his tongue that you’d never heard before.

“Get that hand off your mouth baby, I wanna hear you loud and clear.”

As his hand slipped away from his mouth at your command his head tilted fully back, panting and whinining desperately trying not to buck into your hand. Watching his mouth open all you wanted to do was stick your fingers in, making him suck them under you and really feel for those pretty sounds.

Your thrusts got wetter and sloppier, squeezing his cock while his noises got louder and louder until the room was filled with the wet slap of your hand on his dick and his loud moans.

“Mmmf. Baby-Mmm!-B-Baby, fuck, hnng,.,mmhnngf……”

Occasionally a couple swears slip out of his mouth which go straight to your own crotch. You had half the mind to stick your hand down your own pants but this was focused on Mike tonight.

He starts to let loose and desperately buck into your hand, jacking himself off with your fist and moaning your name.

He’s clearly getting close by the way his thighs are flexing and his low little whimpers have turned into full on begs and whines for more.

“God, hnng, fuck my god, w-what are you doing? H-Hey, why’d you-Mmmf!” You let your hand slip away, precum absolutely soaking your entire palm and sticking to it in thin strands when you pulled away. He protested, panting and drooling and finally looking down at you.

You made clear eye contact with him, repositioning yourself and sticking out your tongue to lick a long slow stripe from his base to tip. His moan nearly turned into a scream and you were basking in how absolutely vocal he was being.

You swirled the tip in your mouth, taking more in your mouth at an incredibly tantalizing pace when he gripped your shoulder hard and with half of it in your mouth you sucked.

“B-Baby, ah ah ah! I’m, f-fuck, I’m gonna-“

Yelling your name he grabbed your shoulder so hard you thought it might bruise, desperately forcing himself not to grab your head and buck until his tip hit the back of your throat.

Warmth spilled straight into your mouth, hot thick wet loads coating the inside of your mouth and making yourself swallow them. His cum was thick and there was a lot of it, it dripped down your chin and you lapped at the head trying to catch as much of it as you could.

His eyes were closed and he was panting hard. It took him a moment to realize what he’d done and his eyes immediately went wide, loosening his grip on your shoulder and using his other hand to cup your cheek.

“Shit, honey, I’m so sorry! I should’ve warned you that I was close. Are you okay? Do you want me to get a towel—“

You gently grabbed the hand that was cradling your face, looking straight up at him again. “Calm down Mike, that was really hot and it was nice to see you let loose a little,” you got off your knees, sliding back up onto the couch and moving his face with you. You leaned in close to his ear. “Plus I didn’t know you were such a screamer~”

He groaned in embarrassment, covering his face with his elbows and pulling his softening cock back into his pants. “I’ll totally get you back for that, babe.”

[howtofightwrite]

I love picking at plot holes like scabs so i want my fight scenes to be as realistic as possible. However. There’s a creature in my head that says a buster sword is SICK AS HELL. What modifications would it need to be even remotely wieldable while still keeping its central appeal (huge sword big blade cool and sexy) intact?

You’ve made a mistake. You mistook suspension of disbelief for realism. This is a common problem that gets in the way of a lot of fantasy and sci-fi authors. So, don’t worry. It isn’t just you. However, realism vs believability is where your hangup is. Stories don’t need to be realistic to be believable.

The quick and dirty (and possibly unhelpful) answer is to create a world that justifies your buster sword, not a buster sword that’s trying to justify itself in a world that doesn’t want it. You step back from the sword itself and away from a world where reality dictates that it’s too heavy, too clumsy, too slow, and ask yourself: “in what type of world does this thing make sense?” And there’s about a billion different ways to create that.

The hangup with the realistic argument is that all of fiction is a lie. Good or bad, that’s what stories are. They can be very compelling, addicting, manipulative, feel incredibly good, and still be fake. The goal of a creator isn’t just to create stories that are believable, but for your audience to want to believe in them. Storytelling is always a joint venture between you and your reader. You are the salesperson asking your audience to come along for the ride. To keep their attention, you’ve got to spin up a good yarn. Build trust. The world has to feel right, but it doesn’t have to be right. Reasonable, not right. The goal is to take a cool idea and work backwards to how your society got here so that when seen from an outside perspective, the choice ultimately looks like a reasonable conclusion given the surrounding context. One of the better ways to build your reasonable conclusions is by studying the history of technological invention from the beginning to the midpoint rather than starting with the end point—the results.

History is full of weird, wacky, wild attempts and failures at creation. You’re not the first person to look at a human sized sword and wonder if it could, in fact, hit good. Or, really, better than swords that currently exist. Or, fulfill a battlefield role the sword was currently not occupying. Or, as we like to say, have real battlefield applications. The Claymore, the Zwhihander, the Zhanmadao are all real weapons that saw real, if not necessarily extensive, use. Like all weapons, they were specialized tools meant for particular battlefield uses. In this case, mainly as anti-cavalry support.

Ask yourself, why? Not just, why would I want it? Ask, why would I use it?

What actual purpose does the big cool blade serve beyond looking big and cool? What function does it fill on the battlefield? Why use the big cool blade instead of other weapons? What does it do better? What are some offsets which might account for the massive size? Technology? Superhuman enhancements, mystical or otherwise? Gravitic fields? Magic? Why is the big cool blade better suited to ensuring a character’s survival? What advantages does it provide? What is its practical value to warriors within your setting?

The initial defensive reaction is that we don’t need a reason because we have the Rule of Cool. That could be the reason, but I challenge you to go deeper. Go deeper than, “this was the weapon my character was trained to use.” The followup question is: why were they trained to use it?

In the real world, we can answer these questions both from a personal and from a larger social perspective. We may not be able to answer whether we’d use a gun, but we understand why humanity developed guns, why we use guns, and the purpose they serve both for personal protection and in their military applications. The answers don’t necessarily need to be good or smart. What matters is that an answer exists to feed your audience. When your reader starts struggling to believe, they begin to ask questions, they pick at the fabric of the narrative trying to figure out why their mind has rejected the story they were previously enjoying. What we, the writer, want to create is a chain of logic underpinning the narrative and its world. This way, when questions are asked, a reasonable answer is ready and waiting. While we won’t win over everyone, trust that your audience wants to believe. Trust that they’re smart enough to figure it out without being spoon fed. That way, you won’t fall into the trap of infodumping.

Worldbuilding always involves a lot more happening under the surface than ever makes it onto the page. Your characters will be the ones to demonstrate and act on the internal logic that’s been created for them without needing a billion questions to lead us from Point A to Point B.

If we look at human history in a wide view, we find that weapons are a fairly steady march forward that matches a civilization’s technological growth. We keep what works and discards what doesn’t. The crossbow replaced the bow as the main form of artillery in martial combat, but we still kept the bow. The bow still had practical applications. Guns eventually replaced the crossbow just like they replaced the sword, but it actually took a very long time. We had functional firearms in the Middle Ages.

Ease of Use

Ease of Training

Lethality

From a military standpoint, these are the three most important aspects for widespread adoption of any weapon. Easy to use. Easy to train. Lethal. The longer it takes to train a soldier on a weapon the more time your army is losing out on using that soldier and the more effective the weapon needs to be in order to justify its expense. Why give your soldier a big cool sword if they’ll never get close enough to reach the forward line to make the assault? Why have them use the big cool sword if operating the laser cannon is more efficient, effective, and keeps them alive longer? In the coldness of battlefield calculus, it’s often better to have cheap, efficient units rather than more expensive ones that might be more lethal but take longer to produce. No matter how good they are, you’re eventually going to lose them. Therefore, easy replaceability becomes a factor.

If you can answer those questions (and the myriad of other similar ones) you won’t just have a weapon, you’ll have a world. You’ll have more than a justification, you’ll have battlefield strategy, tactics, and a greater understanding of how the average layman characters in your setting beyond your main character approach warfare and possibly a technological history. You might even have several functional armies.

Ultimately, this is a game of value versus cost. Most settings that use big cool swords sacrifice ease of use and ease of training to amp up lethality. The weapon having a specialized function or only being usable by a specialized unit helps if that unit’s battlefield effectiveness is justified. Or, you could just have a weird technological outlier where its effectiveness doesn’t quite justify its cost even if the individual warrior is effective. A good example of this is in shounen anime where one character has a specialty that no one else has, a really cool, effective weapon that never appears anywhere else, because the length of training, high skill floor, and finicky nature of its use make it difficult to justify widespread adoption.

The danger is assuming there’s a right answer. There isn’t one. The value in learning the rules of real world violence is so you can break them. This way you can tell the difference between the vital rules necessary for suspending disbelief and don’t accidentally break the ones you needed to keep your audience invested.

-Michi

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[nightxcreature]

A Little Less Talk

Part three of Hot-Blooded! I’m sorry it took so long to get it out! I hope it lives up to your expectations.

Minors DNI/18+ ONLY

Don’t copy my work.

Summary: reader and Dean finally have their moment.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: angst, smut, PinV babyyyyyy, choking, public sex, oral (female receiving), cursing, I think that’s all but let me know if I forgot any. No use of Y/N.

—————————————————————————————————————

It had been three days since the phone call that rocked my world, and Dean and I had barely spoken a word to one another. When I’d finally come down from the god-tiered high that I’d been on, I had every intention of finally admitting to the feelings that had been bubbling inside of me from the moment I’d locked eyes with the green-eyed hunter years ago; I’d left my room intent on throwing him into bed and confessing my love a million times over….and then I chickened out. He’d side-stepped me in the kitchen when I’d come in for breakfast, I’d avoided his gaze while he was explaining the next case we’d be on, we’d gotten completely different motel rooms instead of the three of us sharing like normal. Embarrassment flooded my nervous system whenever I even stepped into a room with him. Which puts me here, sat next to Sam in a run down dive bar somewhere in Missouri watching Dean flirt shamelessly with the busy blonde bartender.

The paint on my nails chips as I peel the tape on my beer bottle, scowling down at the label. A chuckle comes from beside me and I turn slowly toward Sam, a glare of mass proportions on my face, “What?” I bite through clenched teeth.

My rage does nothing to deter him as he laughs again and shrugs, “Nothing, just…” he glances over toward Dean and then back to me, “you seem…grumpy.” He mumbles, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

“The seats sticky.” I grumble out the excuse quickly and turn back to the label, “And the music’s too loud.”

He nods and I can tell from the look on his face that he’s holding back a laugh, “The seats are sticky. But, I would think you’d both would be in a better mood.”

I peek over at him, my eyebrows raising in question, “What does that mean?”

He grins and nods toward Dean, “You sort of admitted to that little crush you’d been harboring for years.”

I shake my head, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, “Didn’t admit shit, Samuel. I got drugged. And look at him,” I point over at him, leaning casually against the bar, that Winchester Swagger just rolling off of him, “He isn’t interested. Whatever did or did not happen between us was a one time thing.”

Sam glances over to Dean, a knowing look in his eyes when he finally turns back to me and whispers, “Huh, I thought you had more balls than this.” He shrugs again, chuckling at my wide eyes, “Oh well…” he trails off, leaving the dare hanging between us.

“More balls than-.” A loud giggle cuts me off and I turn to see Dean leaning across the bar, that sly smirk on his face as the poor blonde just eats him up. Rage fills my body and I slam a hand down on the table, “You know what, Sam!” I stand up quickly and grab my empty bottle, “I’ll show you balls.”

The grin on his face widens and he nods, throwing me a thumbs up, “Go get em, Tiger.” His teasing tone spurs me on and I turn toward the bar, making my way as quickly as I can to Dean’s side.

“So, where are you staying tonight?” I hear the bartender mumble as she reaches across the bar to place her hand on his.

“With me.” I snap and set the empty bottle down harshly on the counter. Her hand slinks back, shock crossing her features, but I don’t have time to argue. I grab Dean by the jacket and spin toward the door, stomping out before this sudden adrenaline plummets.

“Hey!” He shouts as we burst through the door and into the cool night air, “What are you doing?!” He shoves my hand off of his jacket and takes a step backward, shooting me a confused look.

I take a deep breath as the adrenaline coursing through me begins to fade. Facing him, I can feel the rush of embarrassment creeping up my body. His green eyes are bright and confusion covers his features. I can almost see the millions of questions running through his mind.

“I just don’t want to ignore each other anymore.” I mumble out, a blush covering my cheeks.

His brows furrow and he leans down, “Huh?” He’s close enough now that I can smell the whiskey on his breath and it’s taking everything in me not to grab his collar and taste his lips.

“I said,” I huff, speaking loudly as i peek up at him, “I don’t want to keep ignoring each other.”

He places a hand gently on my shoulder, a sigh leaving him, “I’m not ignor—“

“Yes. You are.” I cut him off and cross my arms, “And I’ve been ignoring you because I’m too scared to actually say anything, but between Sam practically goading me to do something and you about to bring that woman back home…” I lean against the wall, placing my head in my hands, mumbling, “You’re killing me, Dean.”

He says nothing for a minute, giving me space to breathe before he places a hand on my arm and pulls me up to look at him, “I didn’t think you’d want to talk after the other night.”

I scoff, glancing down at his hand in mine, “I wanted to do a lot more than talk…”

His eye brows raise again, a devilish smirk crossing his face at the same time, “Oh yeah?”

I pull my lip between my teeth and nod, “I thought I made that pretty clear.”

He shakes his head, the smirk still on his lips as he answers, “Thought that could’ve just been the potion talking.” He mumbles out, stepping closer to block me against the wall, “Wasn’t sure you actually meant any of it.”

“I meant every word.” I whisper, placing a hand on his chest. Tension was rising between us at a rapid pace and I could feel my heart beating quickly in my chest as I waited for his response.

He licks his lips quickly, glancing down at my own, before whispering, “Prove it.”

And that was all it took to snap whatever willpower I had left. I grabbed the collar of his jacket, yanking him into me and crashing my lips onto his. He gasps at the sudden movement and I take the opportunity to slip my tongue in his mouth. We fight for dominance before I graze my teeth across his bottom lip. He groans into my mouth, slipping a hand up my frame to grip my throat as he breaks the kiss and places his forehead against mine.

“Dirty girl.” He mumbles, staring down at me , “Still want me to make you forget your name?”

I nod breathlessly as I stare up into his eyes, “Please.”

He glances around quickly before pulling me to the side of the bar. Shoving me chest first against the wall, he presses against my back and I feel the outline of him straining against his jeans, “You’ll have to be quiet, think you can do that?”

I nod again, glancing back toward the parking lot, “What about Baby? We could-.”

“Can’t wait that long.” He gruffly bites out. He drops his hands to my waist, pushing my shorts down as he slowly kisses his way up my throat to my ear, “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” I groan, tipping my head back to capture his lips. He nips my bottom lip and drops to his knees as he slides my shorts down to my ankles. He pushes my shoulders further into the wall as he pulls my hips back toward him, arching my back for me.

“Beautiful.” He mumbles out as he slips a single finger through my folds, “So wet already.”

I jerk at the friction, pushing my hips farther back as I feel his lips against my core. He licks a long stripe up my middle, moaning at the taste, “Tastes so good, Baby. All for me?”

I nod vigorously and glance down at him. He’s latched his lips to my core, his movements slow and precise causing me to bite my lip hard to keep from groaning too loudly. He glances up at me, a glint in his eyes as he slips a finger inside me, curling it just right. He slips his tongue over my clit as his fingers work me up, the band in my belly tightening and tightening as he builds up what feels like the orgasm of a lifetime.

“Come on, Darlin’, cum for me.” He mutters lowly. His green eyes feel like they’re staring into my soul when the band finally snaps and stutter out his name. My eyes roll back at I watch him and I groan loudly, sagging against the wall. He pops up beside me, a grin on his face as he slips his fingers out of me. His lips are glistening in the moonlight and I can’t help it as I lean up to kiss him deeply; the taste of me coating my own tongue.

“That was….wow…” I whisper against his smile, “You really do know what you’re doing.”

He lets out a low chuckle, “You don’t know the half of it.” He kisses me again and the metal click of his belt buckle falling to his side reaches my ears as he slips himself out of his pants. He slides his hands up my shoulders and spins me around to hoist me into his arms, my shorts dropping to the ground as he does. I feel the cool brick from the wall through my shirt as I wrap my arms around his neck, “You ready?” He asks with a quick glance to the parking lot.

“Yeah.”

I feel the head of him slide between my folds, notching at my entrance when he smiles mischievously, “Beg me.” He arrogantly says, his brows raising when I don’t immediately comply. His tone changes and his voice drops what feels like an octave when he repeats himself, “I liked that shit the other night. Beg me.”

“Please?” I whisper, glancing down at the sight below me. His hard member between us, so close to exactly where I want him to be…I peer back up at him as he shakes his head, “Dean, please. Please fuck me. I’ll do anything, please.” My hands wrap around the back of his neck as I plead and I can feel my nails sinking superficially into the skin there.

His smile widens, “I thought you’d never ask.” He sinks me down onto him, sheathing himself tightly inside me. He slaps a hand over my mouth as I moan loudly and shakes his head, “Quieter or I’ll stop.” He places his hands back on my hips, bracing us against the wall as he begins to piston in and out of me quickly, “God, you’re so tight, Darlin’.”

“Just for you.” I manage to whisper, raking my hands through his hair, “All for you.”

He places sweet kisses across my collar bones as he continues his pace, one hand sliding between us to work my clit while the other keeps me pinned against the wall, “Yeah, it is.” He begins to rock into me slower, releasing my clit to wrap his hand around my wrist. He tugs my arm down my belly and kisses my cheek, “Touch yourself for me. I didn’t get to watch before.”

I bite my lip and look between us, watching as he rocks into me slowly. I slip my hand between us, fingers grazing over the bundle of nerves he’d been busy with before, moaning lowly as the pressure begins to build. I flick my wrist faster and watch him as he watches me; his eyes blown with lust and his own lip between his teeth. His hand wraps around my throat again when he pulls me in for a heated kiss, his tongue quickly slipping into my mouth as he moans out, “So fuckin’ hot.”

His hips stutter a bit and my eyes clench closed as we both reach our peaks at the same time. His hand tightens around my throat as he groans out a quick, “Son of a bitch…” when he spills inside me. And I chuckle a little as I slump against him, breathing heavy.

We both stay that way for a moment, his arms wrapped around me as we pant against the wall. Our skin, sticky with sweet, is adamant against parting as he leans up to stare into my eyes. His cheeky smile makes one form on my own face as he places sweet kisses across my cheeks.

“Should’ve done that a long time ago.” He whispers, placing his lips against my temple.

I nod and lean into his kiss, “I agree.”

He bends down and grabs my shorts, helping me keep balance as I slip them on before sending me another mischievous smile, “Wanna go back to the motel and do it again?”

_______________________________________________

A/N: I hope that lived up to your expectations! I think that’s the last part for this one, but I’m open for requests if you’d like for me to write something for you. 🫶🏼 if you’d like to be added or removed from my Taglist please let me know!

Taglist: @lmhf1 @whimsyfinny @enigmalynne @envysarchive @k-slla

@daisydark @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @manicjk @aylacavebear

@suckitands33 @oceean @mxtansy @justwhisperingfantasies @mgchaser @xinsonyax

[mcflymemes]

THE EMPEROR'S NEW GROOVE (2000) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

how shall i do it?

oh, is that hard to believe?

is this really the best you could do?

check out this piece of work.

i'm here because i received a summons.

word on the street is you can fix my problem.

the drinks were a bit on the warm side.

okay, i admit it. maybe i wasn’t as nice as i should have been.

do you really want to kill me?

so is everything ready for tonight?

i thought we’d start off with a soup and a light salad, and then see how we feel after that.

we’re about to go over a huge waterfall.

bring it on.

you got all that, honey?

what about dinner?

all right. a quick cup of coffee.

but what does that have to do with anything?

you’re sort of confusing me.

how did you get back here before us?

by all accounts, it doesn’t make sense.

i never liked your spinach puffs.

ah. should have seen that coming.

you know what, you could have told me that before i set it up.

now you stop being hard on yourself. all is forgiven.

it’s not the first time i was tossed out of a window, and it won’t be the last.

what can i say? i’m a rebel.

i can’t believe this is happening!

break the door down!

are you kidding me? this is hand-carved mahogany.

so you lied to me.

couldn’t pull the wool over your eyes, huh.

why did i risk my life for a selfish brat like you?

i was always taught that there was some good in everyone, but, oh, you proved me wrong.

now i feel really bad.

you threw off my groove!

he didn’t pay his check.

this had better be good!

this is the last time we take directions from a squirrel.

yeah, like that would ever happen.

will you take a look at this?

oh, is that hard to believe?

just thought i’d give you a heads up.

what do you mean the door’s stuck? try jiggling the handle.

you’re the criminal mastermind here, not me.

just leave me alone.

it’s my birthday gift to me. i’m so happy.

hey, it doesn’t always have to be about you.

uh, he doesn’t really wanna talk to you.

hey, did you see that sky today? talk about blue.

don’t drink the wine.

our moment of triumph approaches!

oh, he’s doing his own theme music.

i’m so glad i was unconscious for all of this.

you’re not just gonna let him die like that, are you?

don’t listen to that guy.

if it were me, i’d march right back there and demand to see him.

you just saved my life!

believe it or not, i think i need a bath.

maybe i’m just new to this whole rescuing thing, but this, to me, might be considered kind of a step backwards.

i ate a bug today!

what is this guy babbling about?

i’ll be sure to tell him you stopped by.

i gotta go wash something.

anything sounds bad when you say it with that attitude.

let me guess, you have a great personality.

thanks for going back on your promise!

how long has that been there?

someday you’re gonna wind up all alone, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.

hmm. don’t know, don’t care. how’s that?

for the last time, it was not a kiss.

[astars-things]

good job jack!

maybe with jack being not the best she had been asking him to go skating (idk if she is old enough to play hockey yet.) maybe with jack working on being better jack asked what she wants to do and she says skating and they gave the cutest little skating date

Part 1 -> here

“Ready, kiddo?” I asked, holding out my hand.

Her face lit up like Christmas morning. “Ready!”

We’d spent the last week watching hockey highlights together, and every time she saw me skating, her little voice piped up: “I wanna do that, dada" She had seen me skate before but she was not really showing an interest in it until now

So here we were.

I’d borrowed the smallest pair of skates I could find, and they still looked comically big on her tiny feet. Her wobbly steps on the rubber mats had already been an adventure, and I had a feeling stepping onto the ice was going to be a whole new level.

“Okay,” I said, crouching down in front of her as she held onto me with a death grip. “First rule of skating: don’t let go of Dada.”

“Not ever?” she asked, her wide eyes locking with mine.

I smiled. “Not until you’re ready.”

She nodded, her face serious as she stepped onto the ice with me. Her legs wobbled immediately, and she squealed, clutching my hands tighter.

“I got you,” I said, steadying her. “You’re doing great already!”

“Am I skating, Daddy?” she asked, her voice breathless with excitement.

“Almost,” I said, grinning. “Let’s take it slow.”

We moved little by little, her tiny feet sliding clumsily while I held her hands firmly. Each time she wobbled, I was there to catch her. She giggled every time, her laughter echoing around the empty rink.

“Dada, look! I’m skating!” she declared proudly after we made it halfway down the ice.

“You sure are, sweetheart,” I said, my chest swelling with pride. “You’re a natural.”

We spent the next hour like that—laughing, slipping, and gliding. Y/N’s confidence grew with every lap. By the end, she was asking me to let go of one hand, then the other, until she was shuffling on her own, arms outstretched for balance.

“Look at me!” she squealed, her face glowing with triumph. “I’m doing it, Dada!”

“You’re amazing, Y/N!” I called, skating backward in front of her to make sure she didn’t fall.

She reached me, throwing her arms around my legs in a triumphant hug. “I’m a hockey player like you now!”

I laughed, scooping her up into my arms and spinning her around. “You’re even better,” I said, planting a kiss on her cheek.

Her giggles were the best sound I’d heard in weeks.

By the time we left the rink, Y/N was practically bouncing with energy despite her flushed cheeks and tired legs.

“Can we go again tomorrow, Dada?” she asked, her small hand tucked in mine as we walked to the car.

“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation. “Anytime you want.”

As I buckled her into her car seat, she looked up at me with those big, adoring eyes. “I love skating with you, Dada.”

And just like that, my heart felt like it might burst.

“I love skating with you too, Princess,” I said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “And I love you more than anything.”

“More than hockey?” she asked with a sly grin, knowing how much I loved the game.

I laughed, ruffling her hair. “Way more than hockey.”

[icyblogs]

anyone still thinking about fallout? haha anyways here’s more ghoul!ghost (-‘:

Fallout!AU Ghoul!Ghost x Vaulter!Fem!Reader i’d imagine this takes some time after the events of this. but can be read by itself. (: WC: 2.6K Warnings: dark fic, noncon, mdni. Note: thinking about how ghouls canonly are sterile. this is a known fact, only slightly broken by the miracle that is Saint Monica from Fallout 3- which to this day i’m still not sure if it was some sort of gospel or not as it was from Father Clifford, but regardless. 

“Well um, well, our community is always looking for new members, we’d be happy to have you!” Brown eyes drift down at your familiar form, tilting his head as he watches your mannerisms as you flit around nervously, too polite to outwardly refuse him. His joints ache as they pop absentmindedly by his side, fingers twitching to dig into the soft flesh of your waist- to claw into your skin, aching to reinstate his claim. “And, there’s a lot of homes being built still as you can see but uh-, but I have a guest room here if you’d like to stay here. Our overseer says there might be a storm coming tonight!”  

“Is tha’ right, honey?” Simon croons- voice reverberating in the quiet evening, gloved hand coming up to rest on the top of the doorsill. He leans forwards, soaking in the way you slink backwards into the house, your eyes traveling down the expanse of his broad body. 

He was truly a bad man, made worse by this wasteland, you should be running for the hills- not offering him a place in your home. Like letting a wolf into a chicken coop; an insatiable beast that once it had the taste of you, it wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left. To tear you apart- aching to see if you tasted like how he remembered; saccharine ichor, sweet candy floss- it was enough to make his teeth grit, molars grinding together. 

His eyes drift down to your left hand, noticing the blatant lack of jewelry, jaw clicking in place. No ring, no memory- it was.. not what he had anticipated when he first approached you later that evening after the communal dinner. Maybe it was blissful thinking that when you’d notice him, your eyes would light up- and you’d run at him- into his awaiting embrace, where you belonged. With your husband.  

But, the wasteland had never been kind to him, so why would it continue to be now?

It was mocking in a way, dangling something in front of him, like a piece of meat to a starved, old, dog- one that salivated at the mere thought of it. Of you.

It really was obsolete, how could the world think of keeping the two of you apart? You didn’t belong here with this.. community. With these people. Don’t worry, he’d show you the right way of the world. No need to stay with these vaulters, filling your head about how the world now supposedly worked- this place would probably be blown up in a year or so by some fanatics- why bother staying here?

But if you insisted on playing house here just for a little while, he’d be happy to oblige for a day. Maybe two if he was feeling generous Then you’ll come back home with him in the little slice of territory he’s carved out (blood feeding the plants, bone-marrow for the fertilizer, built on a burial ground of his own creation) to spend the rest of your time together, alone. The way it should’ve been. Maybe chained to the bed so he’d know where you’d be at all the time, so you wouldn’t get lost again. 

All safe and sound.

See, Simon never believed in luck nor fate until he met you all those years ago. And it’s pretty damn hard to deny that it exists when you’re standing in front of him more than two centuries later, and he may as well consider himself the luckiest man alive. 

“I, Simon Riley take you to be my wife.” 

He finds solace with you- even if you don’t remember who he was. Even if you fight against him as he makes himself at home, all but slamming the door behind himself; mud-trodden boots tracking along the wood, smearing dirt and crimson. You don’t have your ring anymore, but that’s okay- he’ll give you a new one so you know who you belong to. Rings of teeth (chipped, missing) along the column of your throat, scarring until there’s no concept of a misunderstanding left. 

“To have and to hold from this day forwards.”

It wasn’t your fault that you’d forgotten who you were- wasn’t your fault that you didn’t immediately go searching for him when you had woken up, but it was alright. He’d teach you. Break you apart and take the pieces, building you right back up to how he remembered you. 

Eventually to a point where he didn’t have to tie your arms behind your back with a belt or stuff a rag in your mouth to muffle your cries for help. As much as he loved seeing you bound- as much as he loved hearing your noises— it would be a shame to pick through any more corpses for the bullet going through the skull of anyone trying to interrupt the reunion. 

“For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer.”

He thinks he’s in heaven, sitting between your spread legs- a bruising grip on your thigh, the other on your stomach, keeping you firmly situated on the bed. Trying his best to ignore the garbled whimper when he pulls down his bandana, watching as your eyes fill with more tears at his face, or lack thereof. Truly earning his nickname, a grim reaper looming over your bound body, licking his chapped lips as he stares unblinkingly down at you. You looked scared but.. it’s okay. Your husband‘s here now, no need to worry.

He leans down to rest against your knee, scarred cheek against soft skin, giving a chaste kiss. He goes up, leaving a trail of wet kisses along the skin up to the gusset of your underwear, trying to recall how you smelt- and he groans, providing an open mouthed kiss to the fabric. Breath warm, reverent as he peers up at you, soaking in how your cheeks looked warm, the moonlight from the outside casting an ethereal glow. 

“Poor girl been all neglected, hasn’t she?” He grumbles- giving the fabric another chaste kiss as he peels it off your skin and watches as you writhe beneath him, like a mouse caught by a viper, struggling so much that it only causes his hold on you that much tighter. Fingertips absentmindedly petting against your stomach, making their way up to your breasts, tweaking your nipples to stiff peaks. He was languid with it, like he had all the time in the world. Now, he supposed he did. Slowly, softly- treating you as if you were glass. As if one wrong move would cause you to disappear. Tongue laying flat as he makes out with your pussy, relishing it the way it gushes for him- or how your hips buck when he sucks on your clit just right. 

Simon worked you like he was orchestrating a band- each string plucked to perfection, remembering exactly what you liked like you were the back of his hand- knowing what made you tick. What made you unravel. His free hand slips between your legs, causing your thighs to squeeze around his head when one of his fingers starts to coax you open. It wouldn’t be the most terrible way to go out, if it was from you. 

Taking his sweet time working you to the edge and then over promptly, eyes rolling back as he laps at your cunt as if your juices was nectar- pure ambrosia. Liquid gold- you really did taste just as sweet as he remembered. He holds you firmly down as he continues to work your high into overstimulation, it was messy- worshiping- tongue, mouth, teeth- and he brings you crashing over the edge for a second time before finally pulling back, watching as you tremble beneath him, eyes a little bit glassy. Brain practically melting out of your ears, unable to really focus- tears slipping down your cheeks, breathing in deeply through your nose as you try and regain some sense of coherence. 

He’s never thought you looked more beautiful.

“In sickness and in health.”

It was easy to forget what home was like. Years of corrosion- sinking into grooves of his brain, plaguing his thoughts. Paranoia, questioning— so many voices that it was hard to think. Yet as he looks down at your already tuckered out form, he only smiles- feeling at peace. No voices whispering in his ear- no phantom pains, he felt relaxed, for the first time in a long while. Home was where you were, whether you knew it or not. 

Breathing staggered, he kneads at the meat of your thigh soothingly as he works to fish out his cock with one hand, giving it a few lazy pumps as he lines himself up, smearing arousal over your puffy clit. He rests one hand on your knee, notching the head at your entrance- watching you closely as you give a little shake of your head. 

“‘ou can take it for me, can’t you love?” He encourages, starting to make his way home. The first inch takes his breath away momentarily, and he moves your knees so they are up against your chest. Watching you flit around and flounder- eyes wide as you gasp for breath behind the rag. Drool falling from the corner of your lips, toes curling at the sheer stretch. 

“Tha’s it. Biggg stretch.” He continues to push in until he bottoms out. Thighs pressing to the back of yours, eyes fluttering at the sensation of your cunt tightening around him like a goddamn vice- “Feels like a fuckin’ dream, love. She remembers me huh? Even if you don’t- fuck-“ 

His hand finds your cheek, throat tightening as he sees your panicked expression, the furrowed eyebrows, staring back at him behind a wall of tears. It was enough to make him almost pull out to comfort you. Almost- you’d understand why he was doing this someday, even thank him for it. “It’s okay, deep breaths, yeah? You can do it.” He coaxes instead, pupils blown out as he looks down at where the two of you were connected, giving an experimental thrust, nearly coming at the pretty muffled moan that makes its way out of your throat. It’s been way too long.

“Feels good?” You shake your head, and his eyes crinkle as a smile graces his scarred lips, his thumb brushing away one of your tears. Going slow at first but he starts to get lost in the feeling of his cock drags in and out of your gummy walls— and he starts to go rougher, ignoring your little whimpers and whines. How your feet try and kick free out of the mating press, and he all but snarls, head dropping to the crook of your neck, teeth nipping- almost as a warning as he continues to fuck you into oblivion. 

“To love and to cherish.”

He used to imagine a family with you back then before the bombs dropped. Take a vacation, build a nursery together- paint the walls. Bring a little piece of the both of you into the world. You always did reassure him that his past didn’t define him, that he would be a good father. That he was enough.

Living this long.. had its downside. He knew that. It was an ouroboros, a constant loop, a mindfuck. It’s been hell on Earth. He’s accepted that, a phantom- a ghost living in this wasteland, thriving on those who were more surviving rather than the living. But he never really considered nor cared about a specific aspect of it. Sterile, never able to reproduce. 

Simon had once wondered if one day you’d sit outside with him, dinner on the stove, watching as he built a cradle. He could’ve just imagined the baby bump and his eyebrows furrow, picking up his pace as beads of sweat drip down his brow.

It was wishful thinking. But that’s all it was- wishful.

Maybe in another life— but damn did it sound appealing now. 

He continues to rut into you, nodding his head as if you were in on the conversation he was having with himself. He could just imagine your stomach all round he starts to pant, dark eyes peering down at you. “Yeah you’d been such a good mama, huh? You’d give me a whole litter of them, wouldn’t you?” His hips stutter, squeezing his eyes closed as he hears your garbled sobbing. Trying to get air through the rag, nostrils flaring for breath. His lips drag up your jaw, gently kissing your eyelids as you keep them squeezed shut, muffled whimpers behind the cloth. “I love you so much. Missed ’ou baby.”

His pace stutters once- twice more and he lets out a guttural groan, releasing up against the base of your cervix. He glances down again, staring unabashedly at the milky fluid coating the base of his cock and his head goes a bit fuzzy at the sight. 

The sound of thunder booms outside, rattling the window as the moment comes to an end. Pulling out, he hums as he shrugs off his jacket, ignoring your small sounds of protests as he lays down on the bed next to you.

He easily maneuvers you, his chest facing yours as he starts to slot himself back between your legs. “Settle, jus’ relax love.” He spreads the combined come around before pushing it back inside, keeping you nice and plugged up. “I’m going to remove the rag, you’re not going to scream are you?” 

You look at the stranger- the man? Monster- it was hard to tell but you shake your head regardless, trying to appease him. “Course you won’t. Because you’re my good girl- and you wouldn’t lie to me.” Bringing the fabric out of your mouth causes a whine, jaw tingling and aching as you lick your lips, trying to regain some sort of hydration. 

“Pl- Please I don’t understand I- why are you doing this— please sir-“

“Simon. Don’ want you calling me anything else.” He interrupts your panicked rambling, frowning as he leans down and capturing your lips in a kiss. Soft, gentle— longing. Even if your eyes were wide and terrified, shaking like a leaf, flinching as you look back at his mangled face. “Now sleep. Don’t want any more talking out of you tonight okay?”

When you don’t respond he nudges your chin up, his brow-bone raising expectantly. “We have a long day tomorrow, don’ want you to be tired, okay?” You catch your lip between your teeth, hiccuping and confused. Eventually nodding, letting out a little squeak when he squeezes your waist, fingers brushing over the leather of the belt. “I know it hurts love, I know- ‘ll let you out of these in the morning alright, just don’t want you to gettin’ into any trouble.” Another smile, and he leans down kissing away the tears falling. “I’m glad you’re here.”

For the first time in years, he feels genuinely content, one leg over yours as he throws an arm around your shoulders, chin notching in on the top of your head. He doesn’t sleep that night, listening to your breathing as you finally fall asleep after a bit of struggling, fingertips absentmindedly trailing up and down your spine. He hears the steady pulse of your heart- sees the rise and fall of your chest, and he smiles, leaning down and kissing your temple. 

You were here. Doesn’t matter how, but you were here. Your current state was a problem- sure- but you had all the time in the world to get reacquainted again, and you’d learn to be happy again. To love him again. 

“Until death does us part.” 

“For this is my solemn vow.”

[echoalyssa]

Counterparts | Brian O’Conner

The night air is warm, almost comforting. The city of Los Angeles seemed to have decided to go to sleep tonight. The city, normally bustling with life, was quiet, peaceful. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks up at the moon.

I’m standing in front of Mercy Park’s garage checking the oil level of my bike. My brother Logan is lingering by the bay doors, rearranging a stack of Husky jacks that really did not need to be rearranged. He was skeptical about me going riding with someone outside of our crew, but I had known Brian for years.

He drove with Dominic Toretto. Toretto’s crew were technically our rivals as we worked out of the same part of LA. Though Dom and Kaneko, the leader of the Mercy Park Crew, had come to an agreement to coexist.

We’d decided to leave the JDM’s at home tonight. It was perfect weather to take the bikes out and we’d both been neglecting the machines.

         The loud thrum of Brian’s bike alerts me that he is around the corner. I glance at Logan and narrow my eyes at him, begging him to go back inside and talk to Toby or Ximena. He was ridiculously worried about Brian considering his girlfriend’s dad was the cop who had almost brought us all in. 

Brian comes around the corner and pulls into the garage’s parking lot. He nudges the kickstand out with his right booted foot and then turns the key in the ignition to shut the machine off. He tugs his helmet off, revealing his blonde curls and striking blue eyes. The smile that he aims at me is intoxicating.

He dismounts his bike and crosses the distance towards me. I open my arms for him immediately. His arms go around my waist, and I loop mine around his neck. He smells like oil mixed with an earthy undertone. Brian holds me for a good minute before he steps back and flashes me with that grin again. 

“It’s been too long.” He glances over your shoulder and raises his hand in a wave, “Hey Logan!”

I hear the garage door close and know that my brother has finally left us alone.

“You look good.” I murmur back to him. And he does, he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and black jeans. He has his steel toes on and a thin gold chair dangles around his neck. He’s showered recently, his hair bearing the signs of water. Though somehow there is a dirt smudge just under his jaw, as if he just can’t quite seem to stay away from the grime of working on cars.

Brian pokes the tip of my nose with his index finger and then glances at the garage behind me. He tilts his head in the direction of the street. Even though both crews were on good terms did not mean that we should be hanging out together in broad view.

I pull my hair into a loose braid before sliding my helmet on. Brian starts his bike again, throwing a leg over. He maneuvers it backwards so that he can pull back out onto the road. It’s currently wrapped in white with the signature Toretto decals on the gas tank.

My own bike, a Kawasaki Ninja is blacked out. I went for stealth. The machine roars to life underneath me. Brian nods in my direction and together we rev the engines before taking off down the road.

I let Brian lead; I didn’t mind where we went as long as I would get an adrenaline rush. He takes us through a few side streets before we hit the ramp to the highway. He turns his head, checking to make sure that I am still behind him.

The second he confirms that I am still following behind him like his little shadow, he tucks and takes off down the empty highway. My heart soars as I accelerate after him. The red needle on my speedometer quickly craws into the triple digits.

We’re absolutely soaring, breaking felony speeds, but neither of us have plates. The wind whips his t-shirt around, making the fabric crawl upward so it bunches around his chest and exposes the hard planes of muscle. 

There aren’t many people out on the highway, but we weave through the ones that are. We’re perfectly in sync, reading each other’s movements without needing to communicate. I give the throttle a little more and go surging past him, but only for a moment. He overtakes me. It continues like this for miles, each of us going for the lead. The city is a blur around us.

I outstretch a hand to the wind, feeling the way it pushes my arm back in because of the speed. Anyone who saw us together must have been in awe, we give off an almost ethereal aura. Yin and Yang. Light and dark. One and the same.

We were brothers. But bound by more than blood. We were twins as well. Counterparts. Gangster princes of the city we met.

No amount of words could describe the perfection of the moment between the two of us. A picture would do no justice.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins, one mistake and we would be dead, but there was no fear. Only the urge to go faster, to push the limits. That was the thing about Brian, he understood. That if speed was to lead to our demise, we would go out smiling.

Almost too soon, Brian drops a hand to his side, signaling that he is going to take the next exit ramp. He leans into the turn and checks once more, that I’m behind him. We maneuver down a few side roads and then come to a stop atop a hill. The stars are bright tonight, almost defying nature. 

Brian dismounts his bike first, and then he’s in front of me. I haven’t even finished setting up my kickstand before his hands are pulling my helmet off and his lips are brushing against mine. I sigh into him, trusting that I can tip toe the bike and kiss him back. It’s like a weight has been lifted off of my chest

He pulls away but rests his forehead against mine, his fingers brush the strands of hair that had escaped my braid back behind my ears. “I missed you.”

The only response I can find is to pull him back towards me. There wasn’t much time to spare for either of us, both crews were constantly traveling for boosts, but the time that we did have together… we savored it. Loyalties to the crews aside, the two of us would always come back to one another.

[tbgblr2]

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 :)

---

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.