#cleavage-enhancing

[healthmonastery]

Boost Your Confidence and Comfort with the Best Push-Up Bras

Every woman deserves to feel confident and comfortable in her own skin, and one wardrobe essential that can help achieve this is the push-up bra. Whether you’re looking for a subtle lift or a dramatic cleavage-enhancing effect, the best push-up bras can work wonders for your self-esteem and style. In this blog, we will explore everything you need to know about push-up bras, including their…

[aigirlsarefun]

[deathnguts]

My post asking for someone to stop me from forcibly feminizing regulus only got 2 likes so I did it

(Pleas give this love I’m so insecure about posting art online it’s not even funny)

I’m gonna make an AU around this I’ll post about later but for now you can come up with the context behind… all of this

[iconhub2023]

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[excomingback]

Can Massages Help in Increasing Breast Size? | Find Out

Many women, including myself, dream of enhancing our looks. We’re often drawn to the idea of having fuller, more shapely breasts. I wondered if breast massage was the answer I was looking for. Derma Noor Med Spa dug deep into this topic, sharing knowledge from science and experts. This information is exciting, and I’m glad to pass it on. The desire for natural breast enhancement is common. We…

[lilianade-comics]

Stolen Sanguine World-Building Dump

@taptrial2 asked and ye shall receive. What follows is a mass information pit for my Vlad Cleavage AU Danny Phantom vampire AU, Stolen Sanguine. This post will just be about world-building, the storyline will be covered separately.

The time period and culture influences are deliberately vague, but it's pseudo-Victorian, pseudo-fantasy, pseudo-pre Industrial Rev with no consistent clothing styles beyond the vampires being obnoxiously slutty.

Vampires live among humans and the ones that live the longest and thrive the most are the rich and powerful, highly immoral ones. Common people who are turned and not willing to become gluttonous murderers are usually swiftly dispatched by hunters. Being turned involves intent on the part of the vampire, and venom is the agent. New vampires are not common or accidental (unless you're Danny) because in general vampires like the status quo and creating more competition for territory isn't in anyone's best interest. Vampire on vampire murders aren't common for the same reasons. Vlad, however, is an insane little freak and has killed his own kind before. To drastically paraphrase one notable instance is Aragon, who once decided he'd pick on the new guy in town by kidnapping his four year old and turning her into his vampire bride. Vlad stabbed Aragon about three dozen times, recovered Dani safe and sound, and no one has bothered them since.

Society is entering an era where the general populace at large is becoming more collectively aware of the existence of vampires and other paranormal folk and it's more difficult to work in the shadows than it used to be. Hunters are becoming more mainstream, and while vampires have always placed emphasis on securing wealth and power, it's now more critical to have those societal protections in place.

Generally speaking, vampires are almost exclusively loners and not social with each other. This is mostly because every vampire believes that other vampires are insufferable, and they are the singular delightful exception. Penelope Spectra, Vlad's neighbor and ally, is an outlier, as she is very social for a vampire and often holds parties. She herself lives with Bertrand, whom she turned some years ago.

The vampiric power system revolves around blood. By consuming human blood, vampires regularly renew their immortality and their enhanced strength and healing. Vampiric blood itself is also endowed with certain powers, as it remains tied to the soul of the vampire even after it leaves their body. There's a culture of blood jewelry given as gifts to favorite thralls as a mark of ownership.

To say vampires merely consume blood is to ignore the whole reality. It's not just the blood, it's what the blood contains, that is, the vitality or life of the individual. Every time a vampire feeds off of someone they consume a bit of that person's life and soul. It's an active parasitic relationship that brings only misery to the consumed. Animal blood will keep a vampire alive, but it won't grant them the powers they rely on and it won't fully satisfy their hunger. Danny is doing his best, but he's basically starving himself.

A human that a vampire frequently feeds on turns into a thrall. Thralls are sickly, clingy and basically brainwashed into being willing juice boxes. You don't want to become one. Some vampires will keep them in their houses because it's very convenient. Vlad has his blood supply imported, because he's got a daughter to think of.

Vampiric weaknesses include sunlight, which burns them, and the need to be invited into dwellings or suffer the loss of their powers. There are ways to circumvent both weaknesses, however, and Vlad has found ways around both during his years of experimentation. The only way to kill a vampire is to destroy their heart, so the classic wooden stake is the weapon of choice for hunters. Jack and Maddie are particularly creative with their weaponry, though.

The GIW exist here, as a sort of white-tunic wearing anti-vampire cult/organization. Their designs are pending further thought, because white robes and hoods have some unfortunate connotations I'd prefer to avoid.

Werewolves and dragons exist here, but they're mostly mentioned in passing and also because I think it would be amusing if Danielle tried to date a werewolf prince while Vlad makes semi-serious plans to turn the poor boy into a rug if the relationship goes awry.

There is a Vampire King, but he's been sealed away in eternal slumber because he's more trouble than he's worth. Vampires will go through long periods of sleep every so often if things are going poorly for them, and it usually involves a coffin and a hidden crypt. They are of course, nocturnal beings, but they don't have to sleep as much as humans and Vlad is committed to raising Danielle diurnally. This causes some problems for him, but he's extremely stubborn and refuses to let the sun get between him and his daughter.

Other vampires consider Vlad to be completely out of his mind after the unfortunate Aragon incident. It's not normal to adopt your lunch. Spectra thinks Vlad's obvious mental illness is very attractive and she likes watching him kill people.

Vlad lived in a proper spooky castle before acquiring Danielle, but after he fled Jack and Maddie he moved extremely far away and settled into a smaller but no less creepy manor outside of a small rural village. Danielle is by no means forbidden from visiting the village and Vlad encourages the townsfolk to allow their children to befriend/suck up to her on a regular basis. Sometimes this involves blatant extortion, such as the time Vlad forcibly invited (kidnapped) a select handful of children and their trembling mothers to attend Danielle's birthday party.

Vlad likes to gaslight the people living in the village outside of his manor. They're all 95% sure he's a vampire, because he certainly couldn't look or act any more like one, but Vlad vehemently denies it. Danielle is accustomed to doing the same, and in reality she is actually the most compelling evidence that Vlad ISN'T a vampire. Because what vampire has a happy, healthy, bite-wound free child in their care?

[natalievoncatte]

Kara had a guilty pleasure, one she didn’t share with anyone. It would have been awkward, and besides, everyone- friends, family, Lena; they all would have mocked her, relentlessly. It was the first of September and Kara was bracing herself for six months of the most exquisite torture.

She wasn’t expecting it on Lena’s desk.

When she walked into the office, the scent hit her. It tickled something in her brain and set her nerves alight, cascading shivers of excitement running down her limbs.

Kryptonians, you see, are not human. They are aliens, and react to things, to stimuli, in ways humans do not. The most obvious implication of this is Kryptonite, or rather the Kryptonite radiation it emits, which is unique to Kara’s lost homeworld and is deadly poisonous to her while being essentially harmless to humans without both significant and prolonged exposure.

There were, however, other things that Kara responded to differently. Certain flavors were too intense; some things her peers found pleasant were overwhelming or inexplicably bitter or otherwise unpalatable. Her enhanced hearing, even without her powers active, made her sensitive to noises that a human wouldn’t even notice. The list went on and on.

One thing in particular, though, was especially… stimulating to her. It got her motor going, as it were. Not like that, of course. Ironically it had the same effect on her that caffeine had on humans, even in small quantities.

There was something in pumpkin spice that excited Kara. Just not like that.

Okay, maybe a little like that. Even the scent of it made her feel things, and there was a steaming hot cup of it on Lena Luthor’s desk.

Kara had been summoned over some editorial matter of little consequence, probably an excuse to chat. When she stepped into her office, Kara stopped dead because Lena reached across her desk and picked up that cup and Kara was already having trouble.

Lena was… Lena. She was dressed in thigh high boots and black jeans and a tight, low cut green sweater that revealed a generous swell of cleavage that immediately drew Kara’s brazen eye. She caught herself looking and quickly put a stop to it, but Lena was looking right at her, smoldering green eyes peering at her over the rim of that damned coffee cup.

Great Rao, Lena was beautiful. Her hair was swept over one shoulder, baring the elegant column of her neck and her sharp jawline. Her visible ear carried multiple piercings dripping with diamonds and there was a faint pink tinge to her pale cheek. The red of her lipstick was almost violent and she positively smoldered. One might have thought she was dolled up for a photo shoot.

Kara was staring at those lips as she took a sip of coffee, leaving a faint white stain on the white cup.

Such a visual feast with the mere scent of the spices in her coffee was enough to weaken Kara’s knees and make her secretly fidget her toes inside her shoes. It was only a quick chat, a five minute conversation, but it was excruciating trying to get through it like this.

“Earth to Kara,” Lena sighed.

Kara blinked. “Okay.”

“Okay, you’ll go?”

“Where am I going?”

Lena rolled her eyes.

“Okay, Kara, you’re benched.”

“Wait, what?”

Lena huffed. “Look, it’s noble, going days without sleep while you live your double life, and we did agree that Supergirl duties will take precedence over your work here… but I can see you’re exhausted. I can’t order you to stop rescuing cats from trees and helping old ladies with their taxes, but I can order you to take the rest of the week off from working here. Which you are. Starting now.”

Actually, Lena probably could order her to stop doing things. Lena could probably order to do anything with the spicy tang in her nostrils and the quivering weakness in her limbs as heat gathered low in her belly. Kara was glad that she had just been ordered out.

“Oh,” Lena said, “and stop at Noonan’s on your way out. I hear the pumpkin spice lattes are your favorite and well,” she gave her cup a little shake.

Kara decided she would not stop at Noonan’s.

She stopped at Noonan’s. She got a PSL and a pumpkin spice bear claw and a dozen pumpkin spice donuts and consumed them all in the span of five minutes once she set foot inside her loft, after which she spent the next thirty in the shower thinking about Lena’s pillowy red lips and how kissable they were and her pale skin and how badly she wanted to mark it as hers and she sort of spent an hour in a pumpkin spice fueled fugue, and then passed out on her bed buck-ass naked.

Which was where she still was when the knock came at the door.

Her head shot up from the bed and she realized that it was movie night and she was hosting. She had no movies picked out, no snacks, and no clothes.

What she did have was super-speed, and this had a spread of frozen snacks ready to go in the oven, and a stack of blu-rays to be voted on, and pants. She needed pants and probably a bra and definitely a shirt. Humans were weird about their torsos. Fortunately Kryptonians were, too. Kara was rather lucky that she hadn’t landed on a planet that considered shirts obscene.

There were at least two like that, which isn’t a lot, but it was more than you’d think.

Kara opened the door and greeted Alex and Kelly, ushering them in. Brainy and Nia were next.

Lena showed up last, dressed in one of her peculiar movie night fits- a stylish leather jacket over honest to god fluffy pajamas, like a fashion plate going to a slumber party. Her hair was down and wavy and she looked soft and inviting and Kara wanted to snuggle her relentlessly and was very glad that the pumpkin spice was largely out of her system.

Largely.

Oh.

Lena lifted the two six packs she was carrying, giving Kara a suggestive arch of her eyebrow. Lena liked to bring gifts when Kara hosted, usually wine. Tonight she had twelve chilled bottles of… pumpkin spice beer.

Kara wanted to scream. Or possibly moan. Or possibly make Lena moan and maybe spank her a little.

Fuck!

“Hi-hi,” said Kara.

“Hi yourself,” said Lena. “Mind if I come in, or do you want to drink these right here?”

“C-come in,” said Kara.

“Eyyyyyy,” said Alex, as she saw the six packs. “The spice must flow!”

“The spice must flow,” Kelly repeated.

“Chai Hulud,” Nia said, in a faux-deep voice.

“I believe it is “Shai Hulud,” said Brainy.

“Sure, honey,” said Nia, patting his knee.

“You gonna hand those out?” said Alex.

“These are for our host,” said Lena. “Kara has plenty of spirits in her fridge.”

Alex busted out laughing, confusing the others.

Kara remained stone-faced.

Movie night then went on as normal. Everyone took seats, the first movie was voted on, snacks were enjoyed and beers were had. The pumpkin bottles sat in their cardboard holders in the fridge, untouched.

Until they got into the second movie, and Lena sauntered over from the kitchen carrying two bottles, and thrust one into Kara’s hands as she wedged herself in between Kara and Nia, casually tossing her legs over Kara’s lap.

Kara steadfastly did not look. She would not look. She would not look. Surely Lena was just making herself comfortable and private hadn’t noticed that the top couple of buttons on her pajama top had popped themselves and she was showing quite a generous amount of…

Kara looked away sharply. She had looked.

“Do the thing, darling,” said Lena.

“Do the thing! Do the thing! Do they thing!” Nia began to chant.

Sighing, Kara took her bottle and Lena’s, and popped the caps loose with a flock of her thumbs. Lena squealed in delight and Kara realized that actually drinking this concoction was an amazingly terrible idea.

Especially since Lena was basically in her lap now.

Kara tried not to drink, but the hint of that spicy scent from the beer was enough to make every nerve ending tingle and start a fire in her belly. She took a long pull on it and quickly realized she’d drained the bottle in one go.

Lena, grinning, stood up. Kara watched every sway of her hips as she marched to the kitchen, bent to grab another bottle from the bottom shelf of the fridge, and sashayed back to shamelessly plop right in Kara’s lap and offer her the new bottle.

The little display has gotten at least Alex’s attention, and she looked somehow at once horrified and amused and whispered to Kelly, who snorted.

Nia picked up on it next, after Kara had downed her fourth one of the cured pumpkin brews and her brain was sloshing around in sweet cinnamony goodness.

She was running into a considerable problem. Lena was curled up in her lap, draped across her in fact, a soft weight that was driving her absolute insane even as the scent of Lena’s… of Lena mingled with the spices singing in her veins. She forgot the movie. She forgot the existence of everything but Lena, and barely noticed when Alex announced,

“Guys, it’s late. I think we better head out so that Kara and Lena can clean up.”

“Perhaps we should help,” Brainy suggested.

“Nah, let’s go,” said Nia, who then muttered, “seriously Querl we need to go.”

Kara blinked and watched them all pile out, Alex shooting Lena a knowing look before rolling her eyes and closing the door.

Two seconds after the door closed, Lena twisted languidly in Kara’s lap, and was now no longer sitting in her lap but straddling her.

Kryptonians, you see, are not human. They are aliens, and react to things, to stimuli, in ways humans do not. They also have anatomical structures that humans do not, something that was was currently causing Kara to blush furiously, because Lena was well… sitting on it.

“I can explain,” Kara squeaked.

The look Lena gave her would have been devastating, pumpkin spice or no pumpkin spice. Lena’s face filled her vision as Lena placed her hands on Kara’s sides and rolled her hips, dragging a groan out of her.

“Is that explanation going to include a hands on demonstration?” said Lena. “I may need a few rounds before I fully understand.”

Kara swallowed hard. “You mean… you w-want to…”

“Kara,” Lena sighed. “How is someone who’s been flirting with me for five years so bad at flirting?”

Kara stared at her.

“Just, um, to clarify, you’re flirting with me, right?”

“I’m sitting in your lap unbuttoning my top, darling. I believe that qualifies.”

“You’re what?”

Lena grinned and swept her fingers down her chest, popping the rest of the buttons in sequence. The pajama top suddenly hung lose, baring the lush inner curves of her breasts while obscuring the rest of her in an agonizing promise.

Kara, finally, after years of this, took the hint and had Lena relieved of her fuzzy pajamas by the time they hit the bed.

The next morning, or rather next afternoon when Lena woke up, Kara looked over at her. Her eyes had just opened and she was grinning ear to ear.

“Lena?” said Kara.

“Yes? Before we go again I’m going to need a protein shake and some supplements.”

Kara felt her ears burning as her cheeks heated.

“Did you know about the pumpkin spice thing?”

“Pumpkin spice thing?” said Lena.

“Alex told you, right?”

Lena pursed her lips.

“Nope.”

“Cat Grant?”

“No, although I did ask her and she said you, and I quote, ‘creamed your khakis’ in front of her one time.”

“Then who?”

Lena grinned.

“I went to Clark to ask him the right way to go about seeking your attentions. Lois overheard and pulled me aside. Apparently you two share the same weaknesses.”

“My only weakness is you, baby.”

“Oh, it’s baby now, is it?”

“Yup,” said Kara.

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[vampzity]

snake bites | S.MG

“the kisses ain’t free, you gotta pay with your body.” — kissland, the weeknd

—✩ pairing: tattoo artist! mingi x f! reader

—✩ genre: tattoo artist au, smut, nonidol, one shot, explicit content mdni 18+, dom mingi, sub reader

—✩ synopsis: you decide to get your first tattoo with a well renowned artist in town, who is constantly praised for his detailed work. when deciding to get your tattoo in a vulnerable area, he can’t control his sexual urges and neither can you.

—✩ wc: 2.4k

[warnings]: *not proofread* nipple play, nipple sucking, edging, consented sex (wrap before you tap!), pet names (slut, love, doll, princess, baby), mentions of whimpering, fingering, oral (f receiving), soft to rough sex, he’s overall gentle with reader, slight choking, breeding kink??

a/n: i had this sitting in my drafts for a month just because i keep coming up with new ideas and never finishing the older ones, so here y’all go :))

You flinched with every jab the needles took at your skin. Keeping your eyes clenched for a majority of the time, you dreaded how long it was taking to finish your tattoo. However, you can’t blame anyone but yourself for that. You decided to trust your dear best friend and have your first tattoo be on your sternum.

That was your first mistake.

Mingi noticed your discomfort as he tried to work through your tattoo, but the more you squirmed, the harder it was. It annoyed him just a bit but he’s dealt with way worse situations from other appointments, this was simply another cakewalk for him. Nothing he couldn’t get through.

“You doing alright, doll?”

You opened your eyes to meet his own, face red with embarrassment as he noticed the squirming coming from you. You shook your head up and down, quickly looking away from his low gaze on you. He sighed softly, continuing on with the bits of tattoo that he had to finish.

You kept your eyes focused on him from time to time, taking note of the tattoos that covered his arms and neck. You noticed his piercings, making you feel a soft attraction toward him. The rings in opposite ends of his bottom lip as well as the small studs on his ears. Black and silver rings covered his fingers, only enhancing the veins that appeared on his hands from before as you smiled slightly at his painted black nails.

Truth was as cold and nonchalant Mingi seemed to be, he was just as nervous as you. He’s don’t plenty of tattoos, seen plenty of women in various places and positions, yet none of them compared to you. In his eyes, you were a model. One he’d love to use for his tattoos.

“I told you, he’s super chill and he’s well known in town, why would he wanna ruin that reputation by harassing some girl?”

You rolled your eyes remembering Wooyoung’s words. You felt stupid for even assuming anything was bad about Mingi. He wasn’t a bothersome at all, he rarely even spoke to you throughout the process.

If you hadn’t noticed, he closely observed your body; the way your breasts were positioned even if you held them back, the way your body curved, the way it proceeded to squirm under his touch, how warm you might feel if—

Jesus Christ, stay focused.

Mingi quickly snapped out of his thoughts as he began to finish up the final touches to your tattoo, soon grabbing a mirror in order to hold it in front of you.

“What do you think?” he mumbled, quickly turning away from you so he could clear his thoughts.

You observed your tattoo closely, moving the mirror around to reveal areas that may be hiding from under the cleavage. You smiled at the reflection, feeling a small amount of relief wash over you as you began to set the mirror down.

“It’s beautiful, you do such lovely work.”

You watched as his hands began to clean his area. He began to take some of his rings off in order to keep it sanitary and placed them to the side. Oh how you adored rings on a man, how heavily it turned you on. You felt your face flush red as the thought of him. He was right in front of you, and it seemed morally wrong to feel about your tattoo artist in this way. Didn’t it?

“Thank you. I’m going to finish cleaning and closing up shop. It’ll be $120 in cash alright?”

You nodded at his words, digging into your purse for your wallet. As you continued to shuffle for a few minutes, a small amount of worry appeared on your face when your wallet was no where to be found. You continued to shuffle, grabbing the attention of the young man as he was locking the door to his shop. He turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow at the worried look on your face.

“You don’t have the money, do you?”

His deep voice sent chills down your spine, causing you to stop looking for your wallet as he walked towards you. You nervously shuffled once more through your purse, refusing to meet his eyes as he drew closer.

“Hey, don’t worry about it.”

He placed his hand under your chin, bending over to meet your eye level. His eyes hung low as he admired you, his tongue playing with the snake bite piercings on either sides of his lip. Your face flushed red as you noticed the few amount of inches between the both of you. He smirked at you, moving his hand from your chin down to your inner thigh.

“What are yo— shh.. listen doll, I know you’ve been eyeing me the entire time. I felt your heart beat every time my face got close to you.”

Your breath hitched as his words, feeling embarrassed over his observations on you. You looked away from his heavy gaze, making him pout slightly at your actions.

“It’s okay if you can’t pay, doll.”

He leaned in to place a kiss against your neck, making you gasp slightly.

“You can pay with your body… if you’d like.”

He continued to kiss against your neck, following it with small nibbles that earned a small moan from you. His hand made its way under your shirt and to your breast, placing his thumb against your nipple. He began to fondle it softly, continuing to kiss around your neck.

Quiet moans left your mouth as he used his thumb to rub against your nipple, slowly picking up his tempo as you expressed the need for him. A part of you knew it was wrong to hook up with your tattoo artist, but to your body it felt so right. It was something you wanted so badly, all you wanted was to give in to his delicate touch.

“Do you like that princess? Or do you want something different?”

He placed one last kiss on your neck before lifting your shirt over your head and placing his tongue against your nipple. He moved his tongue in circle motions, sucking softly against it as he held you still from squirming.

He teased you overwhelmingly as you struggled to keep your body from squirming under him. You placed your hands against his head, raking your fingers through his hair as he continued to suck at your nipples, leaving them red and swollen with pleasure. Your face grew red, body filled with heat as he slowly pushed you to an orgasm you didn’t think was possible.

He undid the button to your shorts and rested a hand against your stomach, lifting his head up to look at you.

“Is this alright with you, doll?”

You nodded, keeping your eyes away from him. He sat up slightly and placed his hand against your cheeks, pulling you to look at him.

“Look at me when I ask you something love, didn’t anyone teach you manners?”

Your eyes widened as you met his. They filled with lust as he smirked slightly to your embarrassed response. He pulled himself to you, placing his lips against your own as he began to undo his own zipper. You sucked against his piercings, receiving a moan from him in return.

Mingi pulled away quickly, spit hanging from your lips as he hurriedly pulled your shorts down. Kneeling down he placed two fingers against your heat, spreading it slightly to admire the sight in front of him. He licked up it softly, sucking against your clit as his tongue swirled around it.

“Mm, fuck that’s so good.” you let out in a breathless tone.

Your head fell back as you struggled to keep your composure with his tongue exploring between your folds. His lip piercings only pushing up against your clit softly. He placed two fingers against your cunt, slowly pushing them in to see how comfortable you’d feel with him doing it. You slowly opened up your legs to him, clenching around his fingers every time he pushed them further.

“More, please give me more.” you begged.

Mingi laughed at your request, nervous as he didn’t want to hurt you. However, he did as you wished.

He began to move his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, all while his tongue danced around your clit. You moaned uncontrollably, arching your back slightly as he sucked the life out of you. With every moan you let out, he fastened the pace of his fingers, curling them slightly so they would hit your sweet spot.

“You’re such a slut. You’re seriously letting me fuck you like this, doll? So easily?”

Your hands clenched around the seat, eyes rolling back as he used his free hand to rub against your clit, two fingers still pumping in and out of you. Your moans grew louder and louder with each pump he gave, making his member rise slowly when it pressed against your leg. He tilted his head at you, watching you shake uncontrollably as you began to reach your high.

“M-mingi please.. I’m gonna..”

Did you really think he was going to let you off so easy?

He stopped, pulling his fingers out of you and placing them around your neck securely. You coughed a bit, as he dug his nails into your skin. Mingi gazed at you harshly as his free hand began to pull his pants down a bit, making you worry.

He’s tried long enough to be soft with you, but seeing how easily you fell apart under his touch awakened another side of him. His cock lingered in front of you, making you shiver at its girth and length. He rubbed the tip softly, letting out a gentle moan as he tapped it against your wet folds.

He looked up at your nervous expression, leaning over to place a soft kiss against your lips.

“We don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.” he whispered.

He smiled softly at you, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. You nodded at his reassurance, appreciating it but you were too far gone to just let this go. You grabbed onto his cock, his veins pulsating against your grasp as you shoved it into you. A loud moan came out of you, your walls clenching repeatedly around his girth.

Mingi’s eyes widened at tour actions, making him breath in slowly to get a hold of himself. He whimpered softly at how your walls squeezed him. He grabbed your hands, placing them over your head as he held them down. His pace began slowly, making sure you could get used to him before he dared to go at it.

“Fuck..” he groaned, throwing his head back. His eyes were low and full of lust as he focused his gazed back onto you.

“Let me know if I hurt you, okay doll?”

His pace was steady, feeling more and more aroused by the squelching noises that came from you. Your soft moans filled the room as he continued to fuck you. His hand came down to your breasts, fingers fondling with your nipples.

You let out a small cry of pleasure as his cold rings pressed against your nipples. Leaving a sweet stinging feeling against them. Without realizing, his pace sped up slightly, his cock now poking at your cervix.

“Mingi..” you mumbled, your hands holding onto his arms as he continued to play with your nipples. He raised an eyebrow to you, tilting his head as he fucked you relentlessly.

“Hm? You okay?”

You nodded, closing your eyes as you felt his cock roam inside you. His veins poked at your walls, making you whimper under him as he fastened his pace more and more. Mingi’s groans intensified, sweat dripping from his head.

The feeling that lingered in your stomach from when Mingi had edged you returned, making you arch your back slightly. You could feel your high building with each thrust he gave to you, making you yearn for him more and more.

“Please..” you mumbled, barely able to speak.

He leaned over you, kissing your neck softly as his mouth hovered over your ear.

“Please what, baby? Use your words.”

Butterflies soared in your stomach as he whispered to you, basically talking you through your high. Your face flushed red, whimpers still leaving you as he began to fuck you roughly. His cock pounded against your heat, spurts of precum dripping out of you as he hit your sweet spot.

“I’m.. please.. let me..”

You grip onto him tightened as your cunt squeezed onto his cock repeatedly, making him groan out in pleasure as he struggled to keep his pace. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to hold out any longer if you continued to do that.

“What’s wrong, baby? You wanna cum?”

You moaned slightly at his words, nodding quickly as you rolled your hips to his fucking, desperate for relief. Mingi’s breath hitched, earning a loud groan out of him that caused his pace to stumble.

With that, his hands were now on the sides of the ink bed, allowing him to pound you roughly as he got off to your whimpers and cries. His groans filled your ears as he let out a breathless “fuck” over and over. Your body became limp as the put in your stomach grew faster than you could prepare for, allowing you to finish so suddenly.

“Fuck, you’re so warm.” he mumbled, feeling your cum coat his cock as he overstimulated your insides.

His hand rested a top your clit, rubbing it softly even tho he banged into your cervix like no tomorrow. You cried out, practically begging him to stop as your walls pulsated repeatedly.

“I’m gonna cum in you… and.. and you’re gonna keep.. it inside, okay doll?”

His head was thrown back as he spoke, signaling the need to let go. He didn’t even bother to see your response, wanting to get off so badly in you. With a few final thrusts you felt his cum fill you, some of it dripping from the sides of your folds. His pace slowed as his high came down, making him pull out slowly. A stream of cum leaked from his cock, making him smile at the beauty before him.

“Look at you,” he started, placing small kisses against your chest. “You’re so pretty when you’re completely fucked out.”

Your face reddened at his words, making you turn tour face away from him. His hand came up to your chin, turning you back to meet his gaze as the lust that once filled his eyes, was now filled with admiration. He kissed your lips softly.

“I mean it, doll. Let’s get you cleaned up now. Wouldn’t want them knowing how you paid for your tattoo now, hm?”

—✫ taglist: @sundaybossanova @kittykat-25 @losrpark @vrtualsins @sanslovesblog

@scarfac3 @interweab @aestheticjoonie @hwasddeongbyeoli @yyaurii

@mingtinysworld @dvrktvnnel @honeyhwaaa

*comment to be added to the taglist!*

—divider creds to owner—

[liz-on-leash]

Yena music show noncon please

My thought is Yena is preparing for a preshow interview, when the director of the music show barge in, shoo everyone out except yena saying that he wants to have some private talk, he end up raping her to get her win in the music show

You stride into the dressing room, a confident smirk on your face as you survey the bustling scene. 

The air is thick with hairspray and the buzz of excited conversation, but your eyes lock onto Yena instantly. 

She's sitting in front of a mirror, her stylist fussing with her hair, and you can't help but admire her beauty, enhanced by the soft lighting. 

Her smooth skin, the hint of cleavage peeking from her low-cut top under the purple crochet. You've been fantasizing about this moment for far too long. It's time to make her yours.

"Alright, everyone out!" Your voice booms, startling the room into silence. "I need a private word with Miss Choi Yena."

The stylists and assistants exchange confused glances, but they start to file out, leaving you alone with Yena, who looks at you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Sir, is something wrong?" Yena's voice is soft, her eyes wide and innocent.

You chuckle, moving closer, relishing the power you hold over the situation. "You could say that. But it's not a problem that can't be solved."

Leaning in, you speak, "You see, your CEO has put me in a rather delicate position. He asked a favor, and I'm afraid it involves you."

She frowns, her brow creasing in confusion. "What do you mean, Director?"

"Well, they want you to win the show, but there's a catch. A price to pay." You pause, letting the tension build as you stroke her cheek. "And that price is your body. I want you to pleasure me however I wish."

Yena's eyes widen in shock, and she tries to stand, but you're quicker as you grab a fistful of her hair, feeling the silky strands between your fingers, and yank her back down, forcing her onto the couch. 

She lets out a startled cry, her eyes now filled with fear. "N-no! Please, Director, you can't do this!" Yena struggles, her hands reaching up to pry your fingers.

"Oh, but I can, and I will. If you don't cooperate, I'll make sure your career is over. I have connections, Choi Yena,” you threaten. 

“One call, and not only will you be blacklisted, but I'll see to it that your brother's career goes down the drain too. You won't sing or dance again, and neither will he."

Her eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape, but it's futile. The room is empty, and she knows it. Her screams for help echo off the walls, but no one comes to her rescue.

You straddle her waist, pinning her down with your weight. She squirms beneath you, her body writhing. Raising your hand, you deliver a sharp punch to her stomach, making her gasp and curl inwards.

"Scream all you want, sweetheart. No one's coming to save you," you snarl, punctuating your sentence with another punch.

Yena whimpers, her breath coming in short gasps as she tries to protect her stomach with her arms. Her makeup is now smudged, tears mixing with the black liner, creating dark streaks down her cheeks.

"Please... D-Don’t hurt me– Anything… I will do it…" she pleads, her voice hoarse from screaming.

You lean down, your lips almost touching hers, and whisper, "That's more like it. Now, I want you to strip, slut. Show me what I'm about to enjoy."

Trembling, Yena begins to comply, her fingers fumbling with her clothes.. She knows resistance is futile, and the thought of saving her brother's career pushes her to obey. The top falls, revealing a black bra that contains her perky breasts.

"Faster," you command, your hand gripping her throat, squeezing just enough to assert your dominance. "And while you're at it, tell me how much you want this, how much you've been craving my touch."

"I-I want it..." Yena chokes out, her voice strained. "I've wanted you to fuck me since the first time I saw you... Please, Director, just don't hurt me..."

Your cock throbs at her words, and you grind your hips down, letting her feel your hardness against her soft core through the thin fabric of your pants. 

"That's a good girl. Admit that you've been fantasizing about this, about being my plaything."

As she continues to undress, her hands shaking, you admire her body, the curves that have driven you wild with desire. 

Her nipples hardening under your intense gaze. She hurriedly slides off her skirt, revealing a pair of matching lace panties, already damp with her fear.

"Now, spread those pretty legs, Yena," you order, your voice thick with lust. "Show me that sweet pussy. I want to see how wet you are for me."

She complies, her legs falling open, exposing her glistening folds. You lean down, inhaling her scent, the musky aroma of her core filling your nostrils.

"Such a filthy slut," you whisper, running a finger along her slit, collecting her juices. "You're so wet for me, aren't you?"

Yena whimpers, her body betraying her as she arches into your touch. "Y-yes, Director. I'm so wet..."

Withdrawing your finger, you bring it to your mouth, sucking her essence off your skin, savoring the taste of her. “Delicious. But I want more. I want to hear you beg for my cock, Yena."

"Please, fuck me..." she instantly begs, her voice breaking. "I need your cock inside me, Director. Please, just fuck me hard and make me your slut."

You grin, your cock throbbing painfully in your pants. "That's what I like to hear, you whore. Now, get on your knees and suck me off. Show me how badly you want it."

Yena scrambles to obey, positioning herself between your legs, her hands working at your belt. She frees your straining erection, her eyes widening at the sight of your thick, veined shaft.

"Suck it, Yena," you command, your hand tangling in her hair again, guiding her mouth to your tip.

She wraps her lips around you, taking you deep, her tongue swirling, and you groan, thrusting into her warm, wet mouth. "Oh, Yeah, fuck. What a cocksucker bitch, hah!."

Yena gags slightly, her eyes watering, but she persists, determined to please you to save herself. You hold her head in place, fucking her mouth with abandon, your balls slapping against her chin.

You grunt, your hips moving in a frantic tempo. "Suck me good, and maybe I will consider being gentle with that cunt of yours."

Her mouth works feverishly, and you can feel her tears mixing with the saliva coating your shaft. The thought of her degradation only serves to heighten your arousal.

"Enough," you grunt, pulling out of her mouth with a pop. "Now, get on the couch and spread those legs. I'm going to fuck you like the slut you are."

Yena scrambles onto the couch, her body trembling, but she does as she's told, presenting herself to you, her pussy slick, ready for your invasion.

You position yourself at her entrance, the head of your cock teasing her wetness. "Beg for it, Yena. Beg me to fuck that pretty cunt."

"Please... fuck me, Director..." she contends, her voice vibrating. "I'm yours... just fuck me..."

With warning, you bury yourself inside her, tearing through every layer, claiming her with one powerful stroke. Yena cries out, her body adjusting to your size, her walls clenching around you.

"Fuck, you're tight," you groan, withdrawing almost entirely before slamming back into her, over and over, pounding her pussy harder. "You like that, whore? You like being fucked by the man who holds your career in his hands?"

"Mm! Yes... yes, I do… Ahh!" her nails digging into the couch cushions. "Harder, please... fuck me harder… Nngh!"

You oblige, your hands gripping her hips, leaving bruises as you slam into her, driving her towards the edge. Her pussy grips you tightly, milking your cock, and you can't hold back much longer.

"I'm gonna cum, shit–" you inform, your balls tightening. "Where do you want my load, huh, slut? In that pretty pussy or all over that fucked-up bruised tummy?"

Yena's eyes roll back as she climaxes, her body shaking. "I-inside me... fill me with your cum, Director..."

You pull out, your cock glistening with her juices, and position yourself at her entrance again. With one final penetration, you spill your seed deep within her, filling her up as promised.

Your body shudders as you empty yourself into her. "Remember this moment, Choi Yena, because you're mine now, and there's no going back."

As you catch your breath, you watch her, your cock still twitching inside her, marking her as yours. Yena lies beneath you, her chest heaving, her body spent, but her eyes now hold a new light, one of defiance and surrender all at once.

"Get cleaned up, slut," you say, withdrawing from her. "You have a show to win, and I expect a private encore performance later."

With that, you straighten your clothes, leaving Yena to process what just happened, knowing that she's now irrevocably yours.

[delulu4anime]

𝔚𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔗𝔬 𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔒𝔫𝔢⇥ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠɪᴛᴀʟꜱ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ⇥ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴛ! ᴛꜱᴜᴋɪꜱʜɪᴍᴀ x ɴᴜʀꜱᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʀʏ ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ⇥ ʀᴏʟᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴜʟᴏɢʏ⇥ ᴛꜱᴜᴋᴋɪ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅʀᴏᴏᴍ. ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴇx ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪꜱ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛʟʏ ꜰɪɴᴇ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ʟᴀᴄʏ ꜱᴛᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴅ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ.

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢꜱ⇥ ᴛꜱᴜᴋᴋɪ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴇꜱᴄᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ, ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴘᴀɴᴛɪᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ɴɪᴘᴘʟᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅɪɴɢ, ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟɪɴɢ (ɪᴇ. ꜱʟᴜᴛᴛʏ).

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴛɪᴏɴ⇥ 2.5ᴋ+

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇʀᴍᴏɴ⇥ 🔞ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴀᴠᴇʏᴀʀᴅ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅʟʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴅɪꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴇᴅ. ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴡ🔞- ᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʙᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ɪꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴏɴʟʏ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴛꜱᴜᴋᴋɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴜꜰꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴜꜰꜰ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ʜɪꜱ ᴍɪɴᴅ ɪꜱ ʙʟᴏᴡɴ. ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴇᴀꜱɪʟʏ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴜᴀ��ᴇᴅ ᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ! ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʜʏᴍɴꜱ⇥ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴅ ɪꜱ 'ʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ/ᴡʜʏ ɪ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀʏ, ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ/ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇʀ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ, ɪᴛ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴍᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ

Tsukishima wasn't sure why he had agreed to do something so...cheesy. You had whined about trying something new in the bedroom and he reluctantly agreed because despite it all he did love you. He loved you so much that he was willing to subject himself to wearing a cheap hospital gown that was a size too small and nothing else underneath. All apart of the role play you insured him, but now that he laid on the bed waiting for you to come out of the bathroom he just felt silly. His arms were crossed over his chest as he stared up at the ceiling questioning it all.

The aircon had turned on a few minutes before and he desperately wanted to use the blanket on the bed to cover up. He was the ill patient who couldn't pay for his medical bill while you were the helpful nurse who was willing to work something out. He even took the time to memorize the cheesy lines to enhance the role play for your sake of course. All he wanted to do was touch you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear while he pulled those sounds from you he loved so much. Besides this wasn't even realistic the more he laid there and thought about it. He had insurance and with the paycheck he got from playing volleyball he was more than covered. Plus who would even accept sex as a-

"Hello sir. I understand you're in need of some medical assistance." You called out sweetly from the doorway of the bathroom.

Tsukishima looked over at you and his eyes widened at the sight before him. The stereotypical nurse outfit hugged your body in all the right places. The neckline dipping down far enough to see your cleavage and if he looked hard enough he could see the outline of your nipples through the white fabric of your costume. His gaze moved down to where the hem of the dress lay at the top of your plush thighs. There was a sliver of your thighs spilling over the edge of the lacy stockings that adorned your skin. And those red heels? Fuck, did that make his dick twitch. He could feel his cheeks heating up as he met your gaze again and his mouth suddenly felt dry.

"Y-Yes." Tsukishima replied in a bit of a shaky tone.

"Wonderful. I'm going to start with checking your vitals." You said as you started to make your way over him. Your heels clicking against the hardwood floor of your shared bedroom.

Each step you took caused his heart rate to increase. This was just suppose to be a simple role play that he had to get through before he was able to bury himself in his favorite spot. He didn't think something this silly would affect him so much. He shifted slightly on the bed and tried to adjust the hospital gown though it was futile at this point. His gaze not leaving you as you picked up the clipboard that was sitting on the nightstand next to the bed; one that you often used for your remote job at home. You pretended to look it over before you let out a dramatic sigh and looked over at him. His heart skipping a beat as he saw the way you puffed out your bottom lip.

"Looks like you didn't put any form of payment down. How are you expected to pay for your visit today?" You said as you tilted her head.

"I...um," Tsukishima said in a hoarse tone before he cleared his throat. "I have another way to pay that doesn't involve money."

Goddamnit, this was like something straight out of a cheesy porno but it felt so exhilarating. He propped himself up on his elbows as he looked up at you from his spot on the bed. He knew his hard on wasn't exactly subtle anymore but he didn't care; it was your fault anyways and you'd be taking care of it soon enough. Your brow pinches together as if you were confused and it only made him want to skip the dialog and bend you over the bed. To pull those sweet nosies from you and see that expression when you come undone for him.

"And what way is that sir?" You said and he couldn't take it anymore.

He didn't hesitate to reach over and grab your arm as he pulled you onto the bed. He immediately pinned you to the bed and settled himself in between your legs. He tore the flimsy hospital gown off and tossed it elsewhere in the room before he grabbed your plush thighs that laid across his. He watched as the hem of your dress rode up and his breath hitches when he spots those lacy, red panties. You really were going to be the death of him.

"So pretty." He breathed out and you couldn't help but squirm under his gaze.

"S-Sir what are you-"

He suddenly moved one of his hands away from your thighs and covered your mouth before you could even finish your sentence. His hazel eyes move from your panties and up to meet your gaze; the hunger in his eyes evident.

"Shut up. I told you I have my own way of paying for my stay today. Now you're gonna be a good girl and help me feel better aren't you?" He said in that condescending tone he often used when you both got intimate like this.

This wasn't exactly what you had planned for. He was suppose to tell you some sob story that would make you feel sorry for him. You'd cave and tell him not to worry about payment and you'd take care of him regardless. You planned on teasing him before climbing on top and sealing the deal. However, this was an unexpected but not an unwelcome twist.

You meekly nod your head as your breathing shifts now that he was on top of you. Tsukishima hummed above you as he moved his hand away from your mouth. His slender fingertips brushing over your jawline before he ran it down the column of your neck and to your cleavage. You gasp at the way the flimsy fabric comes undone just by a simple tug. Your breasts a little more exposed now and he didn't hesitate to move the fabric away completely; his fingertips easily taking advantage of this. He took one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger then lightly pulled which caused you to whimper.

"I don't know how you walk around and get anything done when you wear something like this. Something so revealing," He breathes out as he lets go of your nipple and rough pushes up the hem of your dress so it bunches around your waist. "A sweet little nurse like you shouldn't be wearing this y'know? Someone could take advantage of you." He said as one hand rested on your plush stomach while the other reached in between your legs and brushed his fingertips over the damp fabric of your panties.

You let out a moan at the way his fingertips feel against your panties which only encourages him to press his thumb against your clothed clit more.

"You gonna answer me or you just gonna keep making those pathetic noises?" Tsukishima said as his gaze became lidded with desire. Seeing you like this underneath him would always be one of his favorite sights.

"I-I haven't had anyone take advantage of m-me." You whine out as you start to shift your hips up to move against his fingertips more.

Your eyes widened when you feel a tug and the sound of your panties ripping. Before you could even say anything you could see that look in his and that smirk spreading over his lips.

"Open your mouth my sweet little nurse."

And you did just that without any hesitation. Your brow furrowed slightly as you felt the fabric of your ripped panties touch your tongue. Your little noise muffled now and for a moment Tsukishma thought bout taking them out of your mouth. However, there was something so lewd about seeing you like this; looking so desperate and ready for him. He hums as he wraps his hand around his cock and leans back on his thighs to look down at your body spread beneath him; his hand starting to move up and down lazily. A bead of precum starting to form at the tip as he lets out a shaky breath.

"You're one slutty little nurse. Would you really would let me use this pussy to heal my ailment?" Tsukishima taunted as a sly smile spreads over his lips while his hand continues to glide over his cock.

You squirm under his gaze and all you can do is meekly nod your head at his words that only served to make you wetter.

"Such a good girl." Tsukishima hummed out before he grabbed the panties out of your mouth and tossed them elsewhere. He wasn't going to be able to wait anymore nor did he care how cheesy this idea had been before. He needed you and that's all that mattered.

You can't help but let out a whimper when he finally slides into your heat and the groan he lets out causes a shiver to run down your spine. The stretch was what you had been wanting to feel since the moment you started this role play with your boyfriend. His moves both of his hands to grip the back of your thighs and it was borderline painful the way his nails dug into your skin; a pain that blended into the pleasure you were feeling. You both seemed to be taking a moment before he pushed against your thighs so that they were a little closer to your chest. You could feel him slowly pulling out before moving his hips back inside you.

His lidded gaze focused on where your body's were connecting. His pace agonizingly slow and you couldn't help but grip the bedsheets underneath you both tightly. You almost uttered out the request for him to move more when he spoke up first.

"F-Fuck this pussy feels too good," Tsukishima moaned out before his gaze moved to meet yours. "t-this is exactly the treatment I needed."

He slowly pulled back out and you expected him to continue at the slow pace before he suddenly slammed his hips against you. You let out a squeak which caused the corners of his mouth to tilt upwards at your reaction; that was all the motivation he needed to set a harsh pace. Your breast bouncing with each movement of his hips and your grip on the sheets tighten even more. The way he filled you up was something you hoped you'd never get use to; it was like you were made for one another, fitting together like puzzle pieces. Even now as he bullied your cervix with the tip of his cock you couldn't help but look up at him with hearts in your eyes. His grip on your thighs tightened for a moment before he shifted. He easily folded your body into a mating press as his movements only seemed to increase; the sound of skin against skin filling the room along with your combined moans.

"B-Baby p-plea-"

"That's unprofessional don't you think?" Tsukishima pants out. "Referring to your patient by a pet name. Show a...h-haa...little decorum." Tsukishima says as he looks down at you as if you were some pathetic being when in reality it was taking everything in him not to cum inside you right now. "Do you always talk to your patients like that? Bet you do. So they can put you in positions like this."

You could help but let out a string of whimpers and moans at the way he seemed to taunt you with his words. Combing that with his movements it was no wonder the pressure in your lower stomach was starting to become deliciously unbearable.

"That's not true s-sir." You whimper out as you can feel tears of pleasure starting to form in your waterline.

"Oh but I think it most certainly is true. This slutty cunt of yours is just sucking me right in. I bet you only accept patients that can't pay for their medical treatment in an ethical way so they can pay you back like this."

This only earns him a string of whines and moans as he continues to snap his hips against yours.

"Sir please. Please don't sto-haaa." You were barely even able to get the full sentence out before Tsukishima was letting out a breathy chuckle.

He could see out of the corner of his eyes the way your red heels seem to move each time your bodies collided. He could feel his release approaching soon and without thinking much he snaked his hand down between your bodies. His slender fingertips brushing against your sensitive nub and that only pushed you closer to the edge.

"C'mon little nurse. Won't you help a-oh fuck...a suffering man?" Tsukishima continues to taunt despite how close he was. His fingers rubbing even faster and you couldn't help but tighten around him.

You were too fucked out to even go along with the role play anymore. All you wanted was to feel the release that was approaching quicker and quicker by the second.

"H-Haa baby...I'm close." Tsukishima grunted out and his hips were only able to thrust a few more times before you were coming undone around him. Your hands shooting out to grab onto his shoulders. Your eyes squeezing shut as you tilt your head back and lets out a sinful moan at the way your orgasm crashed into you.

Seeing you like this was all he needed to succumb to his own release and with a sharp cry of your name he finished inside you. His cock twitch ever so often before his body falls on top of yours. Both your heavy pants filled the room for a moment before you let out a chuckle and buried your face into the crook of his neck. Your legs and arms wrapping around him as you placed a soft kiss on his temple.

"Well you were surprisingly more cooperative than I thought you'd be with this." You said in a teasing tone which only caused him to let out a huff.

"I only did it because you wouldn't stop whining about it." Tsukishima murmurs into your neck as he places an affectionate kiss against your skin.

"Says the one who got really into it." You said with a chuckle as you shifted underneath him. There was a brief moment before he sighs and nuzzles into you closer.

"Maybe role playing isn't so bad." He replies with a hum.

©ᴅᴇʟᴜʟᴜ4ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ 2024 ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

ᴅᴀɪʟʏ ᴄʟɪᴄᴋꜱ

ᴘᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ɢʀᴀᴠᴇ

[twistersobsessed]

Fear | Boone x Reader

A/N: Boone is so underrated. Also I wrote half of this high off my ass so apologies for any errors.

Warnings: Smut, near death experience, Boone gagging you with his bandana, desperate sex, unprotected sex

You were scared for your life, of course you were, but you were more concerned for Boone’s. The chairs in front of the ones he was clinging to had been sucked into the vortex, leaving nothing between him and the gaping hole the tornado had torn in the building. You fleetingly realized the chairs in front of you were gone too; and that’s when your grasp slipped. You screamed, not prepared to die so violently.

“(NAME)!” Boone yelled, and before you could get sucked away, he caught your wrists in his hands, keeping himself anchored to the chairs by hooking his foot around the bottom of one. Your body was fully off the ground as the angry, swirling winds tried to claim you, but Boone refused to let go.

Then suddenly, you were back on the ground, and everything was quiet. You dared to open your eyes, your gaze meeting Boone’s terrified one. He didn’t let go of your wrists as you twisted your neck to look behind you. The tornado was gone. How, you had no idea but you were too thankful to ask questions.

You dropped your forehead against the ground in relief. Boone let go of your wrists and you missed the contact, but he only let go so that he could pull himself to his knees and gather you into his arms. “Oh, (Name), oh fuck, (Name), (Name), (Name),” Boone was muttering to himself, clutching you to his chest. He repeated your name like a prayer, rocking on his knees.

You sat up in his arms to throw your own arms around his midsection. You buried your face in his chest and he buried his face in your hair. “I love you,” he breathed. It was so quiet you wondered if you had even heard him correctly, so you didn’t respond. Boone didn’t let go of you until Dani and Lily came over.

“Are you guys okay?” Boone finally let go of you as Lily reached down to help you to your feet. Dani helped him up. “We’re fine,” you breathed. “Come on!” Dani urged, and the group followed Tyler and Javi out into the field.

Later that night, in a higher end motel, your group deserved it after the day you’d all had, you were wearing a skimpy matching pajama set and sitting on your bed, dissociating. You still felt sick from your brush with death earlier.

A knock sounded at your door. For some reason you expected it to be Tyler, and were surprised to open the door to Boone. “Boone?” you whispered. “Hey.” His voice is quiet. “Can I come in?” You step back from the door and open it wider, welcoming him in. When the door is closed behind him you both stand a foot or so apart and stare at each other for a minute. Boone makes the first move, gently pulling you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was low. “I needed to see you. I thought I was going to never see you again earlier.” His one hand rests on the small of your back, the other holding the back of your head. You close your eyes and listen to his heartbeat as your head rests on his chest. “I…” Boone hesitates. “I love you.”

So you had heard him correctly. You smile. “I love you too, Boone.” You can’t see it from where your head rests on his chest, but he smiles too. The two of you stand in each other’s embrace for another two minutes before Boone reluctantly pulls back. He opens his mouth to say something, but his eyes catch on your pajama set. He swallows.

You suddenly feel self-concious, crossing your arms over your chest, but all that does is enhance your cleavage. Boone’s face is flushed, his eyes having yet to leave your body. You clear your throat and Boone tears his gaze away, meeting your eyes again. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “Um, you look good.”

It was your turn to blush. “Oh, thank you,” you giggled. Boone stepped into your space again, hands gently grabbing your hips. You rested your hands on his chest. Boone’s face was so close to yours you could feel his breath. He nuzzled his nose against your cheek before softly pressing his lips to yours.

Just like that, something snapped between the two of you. The kiss quickly became heated, Boone’s grasp on your hips turning possessive. You slid your arms around his neck, opening your mouth to allow him to slide his tongue against yours.

His hands began to travel, sliding from your hips to your ass, which he squeezed. One hand held your ass while his other hand crept up your top. The thin material made little barrier between your skin and his hands. He pushed your top up over your tits, pulling back from the kiss to admire.

You blushed, but when you tried to pull the material back over yourself, Boone pulled it over your head and disregarded it over his shoulder. “Don’t get shy now, baby,” he teased. He cupped your face in his hands and pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes still trained on your chest. He let out a shuddering breath.

His hands moved down your shoulders, down your upper arms, then he whispered, “May I?” You nodded. “Verbally, sweetheart.” “Yes,” you choked. His hands moved around to fondle your breasts and you moaned softly.

Boone was determined to hear more of that. His hands found your hips again as he directed you backwards to the bed, gently pushing you down onto it. He tugged off his own shirt to bring you to more even ground before climbing on top of you.

He kissed your lips sweetly before trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, sucking and biting on your neck to leave his mark. Once he was satisfied with his work, he moved his kisses down over your collarbones until he reached your chest. He kissed each breast before taking your left nipple into his mouth.

You gasp, arching your back into his touch. “Sensitive,” Boone mumbles against your skin. You can feel his smile. One hand plays with the breast he isn’t sucking on, his other hand sliding down your front and dipping into your sleep shorts.

He moaned when he realized you didn’t sleep with panties on. “Oh baby,” he breathed, dragging two fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness. “This all for me?” You whimper, shaking lightly.

Boone experimentally slid his fingers into you. You gasped, throwing your head back. “Oh fuck, Boone…” Boone removed his fingers to your dismay, locking eyes with you as he brought those fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean.

Your stomach flutters at the sight.

“I’m flattered, baby,” Boone smirks, accent just adding to how hot he sounds.

You blush but wriggle out of your shorts, catching Boone off guard as he stares with a sort of reverence. You tug at his belt to snap him out of it. He quickly fumbles with the belt, flinging it away when he pulls it off.

You unbutton and unzip his jeans and he kicks them off. You immediately sit up to palm him through his boxers. He groans lowly, eyes closing. He doesn’t let you do it for long though, pushing you back down and stripping himself of his boxers.

Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his dick.

“Enjoyin’ the view?” Boone teases, but his face is flushed. You look up at him from low eyelids and he groans. “Don’t look at me like that, baby.” You lean back on your elbows and spread your legs.

Boone wastes no time, crawling onto the bed. “I don’t have a condom; I’ll buy you plan b in the morning, it don’t matter.” “It’s fine, I’m on the pill,” you assure him, pulling him down to kiss you.

Boone’s tongue slides into your mouth the same time his dick slides into your pussy. You moan loudly and Boone does his best to muffle it with his mouth. He wants to hear your noises, nothing is hotter, but the motel walls are thin.

He pulls back as he begins to thrust into you. You try to stifle your moans, you really do, but you’re loud, and Boone suddenly thinks of something that may be as equally hot as your sounds. He pulls out, to your dismay. He fishes something out of his jeans.

It’s his bandana. He crawls back on top of you, pinning you to the bed under his weight, and holds the bandana up to your face. “Open up, honey.”

You obediently do so, and he shoves the fabric into your mouth before pushing back into you as deep as he can. You cry out, but it’s efficiently muffled by his bandana. Boone smirks. He hikes your right leg over his shoulder and begins thrusting, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper angles.

Your eyes brim with tears from stimulation, especially when Boone reaches down to circle your clit with his finger. You cry and whine and moan, all muffled by Boone’s favorite fabric.

Your body tenses and shakes as you reach your climax, and Boone can tell. “You gonna cum for me, honey? I’m about to cum too, fuck-” His thrusts grow sloppy. He rips his bandana out of your mouth and covers your lips with his, kissing you deeply as you reach your orgasm.

How tightly you clenched around him as you came had Boone cumming deep inside you practically at the same time. He stilled once you both came back from your highs, but didn’t pull out of you. He just collapsed on the bed, rolling you with him so you remained connected.

You lay facing one another, basking in an afterglow and one another’s presence. “I love you, baby,” Boone cooes, kissing your forehead. You smile sleepily, the days events and last hour’s activities having you absolutely exhausted.

Boone gently pulled out of you and you immediately missed the warmth, feeling strangely empty. You wrapped your legs with his and curled into his chest.

You both meant to get up and clean up, but after the day you’d had… you both fell asleep before you could, naked and sticky and clinging to one another like you were about to lose the other.

[lotusbxtch]

The Best Ride In The Galaxy - Pt. 2

Pairing: brat-tamer!Poe Dameron x f!Reader Rating: M - 18+, MDNI! Summary: You and Poe play bedroom games, but who comes out the winner? Word count: 4732

Warnings: smut with barely plot, language, name-calling (bitch, asshole, cockslut, slut) but you’re both into it, pet names (my Poe speaks Spanish which is not canon but it’s my fic damnit), brat-tamer!Poe, D/S dynamics, safeword usage, physical restraints (handcuffs), mild humiliation, “she” pronouns in reference to vagina, very brief mild physical bullying, brief light slap to the face, panty sniffing, one (1) love bite, oral (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex (be smart, be safe!), rough sex, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting, brief fainting, creampie, established relationship, no use of y/n

a/n: I didn’t intend on writing a part 2 to my one-shot, but Poe said otherwise. Thank you to my dear sweet @for-a-longlongtime for beta reading! If you like my work, please comment and reblog! It would mean the world.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 

Sometimes you don’t even know why you do it.

Maybe it’s the smirk he sports when he reads your mind, knows you better than himself. Maybe it’s that self-assured confidence and cockiness that gets him into trouble but is also the reason why he’s co-general of the Resistance. Or maybe it’s just because he does the exact same thing to you – pokes at you, annoys you, until you snap and he gets to play with fire.

You can’t remember how it got started, but that simmer of irritation was already burbling under the surface when he told you that he had to do a hands-on demonstration of advanced defensive maneuvers to the novice pilots in the squadrons.

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh really? You just have to? Or is it because you, Poe Dameron, cannot pass up a single opportunity to show off?”

Poe huffed and shook his head, a small smile blooming on his face. “You’re insufferable sometimes, you know that?”

“It’s because you know I’m right, you idiot,” you retorted, folding your arms across your chest. The move unintentionally pressed your breasts together, enhancing your cleavage, and you saw Poe’s eyes dart to them. 

“Oh, sure, it’s not your fault that you have correct opinions and great tits, isn’t that what you always say?” he chortled.

“Fuck right off, Dameron,” you groused as you dropped your arms immediately. “Come back when you’ve stopped being a dick.” You turned on your heels and walked away, not even knowing why you’re giving him an attitude.

“At least you know I’m not unintentionally lying this time about when I’ll actually be back, baby,” he yelled in your direction as you stomped off. “I love you, you brat!”

Without turning around, you flipped him off. “Love you too, you fucking asshole! Come back in one piece!” You didn’t see him shaking his head and chuckling as you rounded the corner out of sight.

Two days later, Poe returns, right on schedule. By then, you’d spent enough time out of his presence to actually miss him unironically. You’d been going about your normal duties on base but sleeping in his empty bed at night, his scent still clinging to his sheets and helping you fall asleep without the warmth of his body next to you. When his pod door slides open, you lift your head from where you lounge on the bed.

“Hi baby!” you greet him, a warm smile on your face. You swing your legs over the side of the bed, hopping to your feet wearing nothing but one of his shirts and your lacy underwear. Those two nights had also been spent with nothing but your own fingers and toys to sate your sex drive, and much to your chagrin, it couldn’t compare to the way Poe was able to make you fall apart. 

When he walks through the pod door, you feel desire flare up warm in your belly. He’s still wearing his flight suit. He knows how crazy it makes you.

Poe tracks your movements with warm chocolate eyes as you saunter over to him, putting an extra swirl in your hips to entice him. But as soon as you get close enough to feel the heat of his body, he doesn't let you go further.

“Uh-uh, bebita,” Poe says as he puts a hand out. “You were being a brat before I left for whatever reason, so you don’t get what you want so easily this time.” You pout, but don’t press the issue. He wasn’t wrong; you had been absolutely insufferable for no reason.

Shaking your head slightly, you bite your lip and let out a huff of air from your nose. “That’s funny. Judging by that tent in your flight suit, I’d say what I want also seems like what you want, flyboy,” you retort, smirking at the obvious erection at Poe’s crotch.

“Oh, you sweet thing,” he purrs, keeping his hand on your chest. “You forget that out of the two of us, I have far more patience than you.”

“Hmm, that’s not what I remember about three nights ago,” you mock-thoughtfully muse. “If memory serves me correctly, I think you were begging? Something like, ‘oh Maker, please, baby, please let me fuck your –”

“That’s fucking it,” Poe suddenly growls and grabs your hips, crushing your lips to his. Moaning, you lean into the kiss, smiling quietly to yourself that you broke his resolve.

That is, until you hear a smooth metallic shick behind you and feel your wrists suddenly encased.

You pull away from him, eyes wide. Wriggling against the restraints, you realize that he’s –

“Handcuffed you? Yes, baby,” Poe confirms to you with a smirk. “You want to be a brat? Fine, but I’ll treat you like one then.” He leans into your ear, whispering, “If you want to come, you’ll have to be my good girl.”

You scowl at him in response, but simultaneously a shudder ripples involuntarily through your body. Poe’s smirk widens at your conflicting non-verbal messages. “That’s right, honey,” Poe teases, voice syrup-sweet and thick with amusement. “You like to play-pretend that you hate being made to behave, but your pussy says otherwise.” With that, he shoves his hand up your - his - shirt, immediately coming into contact with your drenched panties.

Poe tuts mockingly. “Already so wet for me, bebita? What a little cockslut you are. Couldn’t handle seeing me in your favorite outfit and you immediately wanted me to fuck you, huh?” He slips his fingers under the elastic of your panties, smearing the tips with your slick.

“Fuck you, asshole,” you grit out, trying desperately to not grind down on his fingers, needing to chase even the slightest friction to ease the ache between your legs. 

Poe chuckles darkly, a wicked smile gracing his lips. “Later, baby,” he rumbles, “only if you do what I say.” He pulls his hand back out from under the hem and slips his glistening fingers into his mouth, locking his eyes on yours as he groans at your taste. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet. Can never get enough of you,” Poe murmurs. That infuriating smirk returns to his face.

You huff. “If you like it so much, why don’t you use your mouth for something other than sweet nothings?”

Poe’s eyes darken in a flash. “You’re gonna regret that.” He rips your panties off, the sound ricocheting around the room.

“Maker-damnit, Poe, those were my favorite ones,” you pout. They cost you more credits than you usually spend on frilly underthings, but the thought evaporates from your mind when you notice Poe bringing the lacy scraps to his nose and inhaling deeply, eyes closed. A whine snakes its way out of your chest.

His eyes flutter open. “What was that, sweet thing?” Poe croons, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you.

“You’re fucking filthy,” you manage to squeak out. He drops to his knees, pulling your right leg over his shoulder, lining up your dripping slit with his mouth as he drinks in the sight of you.

“Oh honey, I’ll show you filthy if you let me,” Poe whispers. “But right now you have to do what I ask you to, okay? Because if you don’t, you won’t like what happens.”

Your chin juts upwards defiantly. “Do your worst, Dameron.”

Poe smirks. “Stay quiet for me. Not a peep until I tell you that you can make noise. And if you start moving your hips against me, I’ll stop.” You nod, but you know it’ll be a challenge. He knows exactly what to do to make you squirm. 

“Do you remember our safe word?” he asks.

“Mandalorian,” you respond. He nods affirmatively.

“Let’s see what you can take, baby,” Poe rumbles, moving to trail kisses up and down your legs and thighs. You breathe in and out slowly, trying to control the nerves he’s currently setting on fire. He drags the tip of his tongue slowly in decorative little swirls across your inner thighs, locking eyes with you. Slick continues to pool in your entrance.

“How does that feel?” Poe murmurs, biting your thigh softly. You press your lips into a line, shuttering any words or noises rising in your throat. You knew better than to disobey him — the retribution would be hard and swift.

Poe chuckles. “Oh, it seems like my little slut is following directions for once. I’ll grant you a reward.” Suddenly he licks a slow, thick stripe through the very center of your soaked core, from twitching pussy to swollen clit. You swallow a whine, biting your lip. Poe’s smile turns predatory. He sucks your clit into his mouth with a lewd slurping sound, and the sudden firing of thousands of nerve endings forces your eyes closed. Poe bites your thigh in warning.

“Look at me while I lick your pussy,” he commands. You lock to his gaze immediately. “If you close your eyes again when my mouth is on you, you’ll be punished.”

You nod and Poe dips his head back down to your center, holding you up with his hands on your upper thighs, his grip firm. He licks, sucks, nuzzles, and gently nips at you, coaxing more slick to slowly drip from you as you fly closer and closer to your orgasm. Just before you can reach your crest, however, he backs off, nearly making you whine with frustration. 

Poe continues to torment you like this for what feels like hours. After a particularly delicious swirl of his tongue, your eyes involuntarily roll to the back of your head and you let out the tiniest moan. Your eyes pop open just as Poe lets go of your thighs and allows your balance to waver. You feel your body lurch side to side as you desperately realize you can’t use your arms to counteract your body’s momentum, and almost fall over, but he grabs you just as you tilt dangerously sideways. 

“I wasn’t joking, bebita,” Poe says menacingly. “I’ll have no problem letting your pretty little ass fall over if you refuse to follow directions.”

Nearly out of your mind with arousal and anger, you spit out, “I wouldn’t have such a problem if you would just put your fucking cock in me already like we both know you want to do!” 

You both stare at each other in silence for a few moments, your face flushed pink with exertion from all of the botched orgasms, and a storm of emotions flickering across his face. Suddenly Poe gets up and drags you with him to the bed. 

“You want my cock that badly, huh, you little slut?” Poe grits out, gently shoving you towards the bed. You stumble and fall sideways toward the mattress, your upper body and face bouncing off the surface humiliatingly since you have no ability to brace with your hands. You stumble back up, mouth ajar in shock. Poe’s never been this mean; you must have really pissed him off before he left for his trip. And for whatever reason, it’s making you even more wanton for him.

“Get on the fucking bed and kneel. Now.” Poe rumbles, his voice deep and authoritative. You stumble a bit to climb up without hands, having to shimmy to move your body. You kneel, sitting on your heels, your shins pressing into the soft surface as you wait for your next instructions.

Poe slowly, teasingly, walks towards the bed, stripping out of his flight suit slowly. The obnoxiously orange suit drops away, his shoes and socks long gone, and he’s left in nothing but his undershirt and boxers. He lifts the hem of the undershirt up as his biceps ripple while pulling the piece of clothing off his broad chest. He stops when his thighs hit the bed, cock lined up with your torso, and looks down at you.

“Take them off with your teeth,” he orders. You quickly comply, gripping the waistband of his boxers with your teeth and lips, pulling them down his body carefully. They peel off slowly, the task made more difficult without the use of your hands. After having to nearly fold yourself in half to get the boxers down, Poe’s cock finally springs free, achingly hard. The tip is red and angry looking, coated in a sheen of precum. You lick your lips and open wide, moving towards it. Suddenly, a warm palm is pushed into your forehead, blocking your advance. You actually growl and look up at the man holding you back.

“You think I’d give you my cock to suck as a reward for being such a demanding brat? Try again,” Poe mutters, pulling his cock away from you. You whine, your mouth watering embarrassingly. 

Poe shoves the rest of his boxers down his legs and gets onto the bed. Sitting with his back against the headboard, he grabs your hips and yanks you over, forcing you to straddle his lap, his hard dick pulsing under your dripping slit. 

“Be careful what you wish for,” Poe warns. Then he starts to lower you down, and your mind gets hazy the closer his cock is to making contact with you. When you feel the tip of him brush against your labia, you let out a breathy moan and try to sink down onto it. Poe grabs your hips and pulls up while pushing his down into the mattress, evading you. His smirk widens.

“Are you seriously going to make me chase your cock, Poe?” you pant, trying to force your hips down onto his to no avail. 

“Brats don’t get to decide when they get what they want,” he says, “or if they even get it at all.”

He teases your drenched entrance like this another two times. After the third, you let out a frustrated huff. “Stop fucking around, Dameron, just give me your –”

Your sentence ends in a scream as Poe grips your hips and shoves harshly up, bottoming out nearly immediately. A wave of pleasurable pain hits your body like a freight train.

“I said, be careful what you wish for,” Poe grits out, his eyes flashing nearly black with desire. You whine, words unable to form in your mouth, your cunt stretched and stinging from the sudden intrusion. Poe usually warms you up by making you come at least once before fucking you, and the fact that he fucked into you without warning is also new. You eye him, your vision swimming with arousal and wariness. He keeps his hands on your hips, letting you adjust to his thick girth inside of you.

“Now, as punishment, we’re going to play a little game,” Poe explains. “You’re going to sit on my cock, and neither of us are going to move besides breathing. I can’t thrust up, and you can’t clench down. Whoever moves first, comes last.”

Your eyes flick to the ceiling as you take a deep breath. Maker, he’s going to kill you like this.

“Are you fucking serious, Poe?” you say, trying to egg him on. “You won’t ever shut up about how good it feels to be in my pussy, you’re not going to last 30 seconds before you start thrusting.”

“Are you game or not?” he snaps. “Or I could just pull out of you and leave you here high and dry.”

“Stars, you’re so sensitive today,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Fine, I’ll play your silly game even though I know I’m going to win.”

“Oh-ho-ho, bebita,” Poe chuckles. “Little do you know, some friends of mine just taught me a new technique I’m gonna try out. They said it helps them tune into The Force, but that it’ll help me from getting distracted.” You peer at him questioningly.

“Since when did you turn into a believer?” you scoff. “You know what? Game on, flyboy.”

And with that, the cockwarming games begin. 

At first, it’s relatively easy. The lack of movement allows the burn from his intrusion to fade away, and the fullness is comforting. Your eyes are closed, your breathing slow. The seconds tick by. Then minutes. 

Eventually curiosity gets the better of you, so you open your eyes. Poe’s handsome face comes into view, and at first you think you’re seeing things. He sits, eyelids shut softly, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. You don’t believe it, so you count his breaths to confirm your suspicions. 4 seconds in, 4 seconds holding, 4 seconds out.

Poe motherfucking Dameron is meditating.

No fucking way could the impulsive, cocky, impatient Poe Dameron actually have learned meditation and well enough to allow him to win this game. So you sit there, pussy wrapped around his cock, and wait for him to crack.

Except he fucking doesn’t. The silence and stillness begins to get to you; you feel the impending sense of doom of losing the game crawl up your back and across your collarbones. You wrack your brain to try to find a loophole… and then you do.

“Poe, baby,” you croon at him. Poe keeps his eyes closed, but murmurs an “Mhm?” in response.

“There wasn’t any rule against talking, was there?” You bat your eyes innocently.

Poe opens his eyes suspiciously. “No, but now I’m thinking I may be regretting that. What are you planning, hmm?”

You sigh, doing your best to keep your pussy from fluttering while you weave your web of entrapment. “Oh, nothing. Do you want to know what I was doing while you were gone?”

“Let me guess,” Poe responds. “Did you think of a thousand new ways to torture me or provoke me?”

“Stars, no,” you say, falsely shocked. “I was just laying in your bed, because it smelled like you, and I missed you.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Poe says warily. “What are you trying to do?”

“What do you mean?” you play along. “I’m just telling you about how my last couple of days have been and what I did to fill my time… since you weren’t around to fill me.” Still maintaining the innocent facade, you meet Poe’s eyes. He already looks wrecked. A wicked smile blooms on your face.

“Oh fuck you,” Poe grits out.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking about while I laid spread open in your bed, baby,” you whisper, staring him down. “My pussy was so fucking wet imagining you with me, your head between my legs, lapping at me like you love to do.” You hear a strangled groan escape Poe’s mouth, and you know you have him hooked.

“I was tracing my fingers gently around my clit,” you continued, “teasing it just like you do, and then rubbing it in circles. Didn’t feel as good as your tongue does though.” You let out a little moan but hold your muscles in place, pleading with your cunt to stay still. It obeys, but the slick starts seeping out of you, pooling around the base of Poe’s cock. He moans at the feeling, looking like he wants to fuck you or kill you, but unsure of which.

“I had to stuff myself 3 fingers full, fucking them hard and fast, to even get close to what you make me feel,” you whine to Poe. “I came, but it was just a little flutter, not like when you give me one.”

You look down at where your bodies are joined, and then back up into Poe’s eyes through your eyelashes coquettishly and smirk. “But you said just cockwarming tonight. So I guess I’ll just have to sit here, drenching your dick, and not rock against you, massaging you with my pussy.”

Poe’s face looks blank, and then suddenly his eyes darken. Your pulse quickens because you might have just won the game, but you also might be in danger.

“You fucking unfair little minx,” Poe growls and suddenly grips your hips hard enough to bruise. That smirk is wiped off your face a split second later as Poe lifts you slightly and then thrusts into you with all of his strength, spearing your cunt on his cock.

“You wanna play unfair? Fine. But you get to suffer the fucking consequences, you insatiable little bitch,” he sneers, fucking into you deep on the last word. Your mouth pops open in a silent scream. Of course this is what you wanted, but now? Now it’s brutal and all consuming.

Poe starts pounding up into you with no mercy, lifting your hips and slamming you back onto his lap as his cock keeps parting your channel, making you feel as if he’s splitting you in half. When you finally catch your breath, a ragged moan comes screaming out of your throat, and you throw your head back in ecstasy.

“Is this what my little slut wanted?” Poe asks rhetorically, never slowing his pace. “Needed to get this pussy pounded ‘til I rendered you stupid? Listen, baby, she’s so fucking wet, feels like she’s crying for me.” You do your best to listen to the obscene squelching and slapping sounds swirling around the room. No words leave your lips, just another loud and pathetic moan.

“Aww, poor baby can’t even say words now,” Poe chides mockingly. “Can’t tell me how good I’m making this pussy feel.” He rams in even deeper, feeling like he’s in your throat. Your cunt clenches as he hits your g-spot, sending you further into orbit. All you can utter are high pitched little mewls as he drags you kicking and screaming towards your orgasm.

“Do you feel me deep in you, baby?” Poe grits out, his thrusts continuing to devastate you. “I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard that you’re gonna pass out. You’re gonna take what I give you and you’re going to say thank you.” He punctuates the last two words with sharp thrusts that punch your cervix, adding a twinge of pain amongst the pleasure. Your head spins and your breath stutters, right on the edge.

“Please, Poe,” you beg without telling him what you need. But he knows. He drags his calloused thumb over your swollen, hard clit, drawing all of your muscles tight around him. His other hand remains tightly gripping your hip.

“Come for me. Right now,” Poe grunts, and you come with a long, whining scream. Your orgasm explodes in your core, shimmering out through your extremities, your face flushing immediately. You feel yourself creaming all over Poe’s cock. The sensation rips a growl out of his throat. “That’s fucking right, sweetness.” 

You lean against his chest, sated, eyes closed. His thrusts slow down, and he moves his hands from your hips to your shoulders. Bringing you upright once again, Poe trails kisses across your face, and then suddenly, he spears his cock deep into you again. A surprised moan rattles from your chest.

“Poe!” you exclaim, abruptly pulled from your post-orgasmic haze. He continues to sink into you over and over again, hard as steel.

“You thought I’d stop at one?” Poe tuts, lip curling as he punches his dick into you particularly harshly. “No way. You’re going to give me two more before I let you rest, since you were so hungry for this cock.”

“Oh Maker, Poe,” you slur, his slick-coated shaft stretching your walls. You try to rest your forehead against his, but he smacks your cheek gently to get your attention.

“Hey, uh-uh baby,” Poe chastises. “Keep your eyes open. Who's giving you the cock you so desperately needed, huh?”

“You, Poe. Only you,” you half-sob, mind dizzy with pleasure feeling another wave begin to build inside your belly. He continues to work you open, the squelching sound of your pussy around him filling the room. Your breath comes faster and shallower as you approach your second crest, shattering into a million pieces with a squeal. Poe groans at your wet release, but he doesn’t stop hammering into you.

Tears slide down your cheeks as you struggle to keep your eyes on Poe, the pleasure nearly unbearable. Swaying slightly, your head lolls to the side. Suddenly the world is shifting as Poe flips you off of his lap and onto your back, your hands still shackled together against your back. The position puts a bit of strain on your shoulders, but you hardly care. You’re barely conscious of Poe rearranging your legs on the bed, spreading you wide before shifting you up onto his kneeling lap and sliding home once again. Low moans escape your mouth as he pushes in, hitting that soft spot deep in you that only he’s been able to find. You clench down, slightly pained.

“I can’t, baby,” you whine, Poe unrelenting in his rhythm. He looks down at you with the cockiest smirk.

“Do you need to use your safeword?” Poe asks softly, pressing deep and holding himself there. You gasp and meet his eyes. Brows furrowed, you answer, “No.”

“Okay, then hush,” he responds with a chuckle, resuming his motions. Against your belief, you feel your body working itself into a knot again with an approaching third orgasm. But this one feels different.

“Poe…” you whimper. His thrusts speed up, the opposite of what you were going to ask. “No, Poe, I think… I think —” He looks down at you with concern crossing his face, then presses down on your belly, right above your pubic bone. You squeal, feeling the pressure mounting. His smile darkens. 

“Is my baby afraid of wetting the bed?” Poe teases in a singsong voice. You nod rapidly.

“Are you going to use your safeword?” He waits for a response. You just keep staring at him with wide eyes. His smile widens. “That’s what I thought. Shut the fuck up and take it.”

You keen over and over again as he keeps pounding into you. Poe slips his other hand down to your clit, thumbing it once again. His breathing is getting harsher, his thrusts sloppier. Pushing your limits creates a potent, arousing cocktail for his brain, and he rockets towards his finish.

“I’m gonna make you squirt all over yourself when you come, and then I’m going to fill up that pussy with my cum instead of the inside of my fucking flight suit,” he grits.

The filthy dialogue pushes you over the edge, and Poe feels your pussy clamp down on his cock as a strangled scream escapes your open mouth. As he pulls his cock out, you gush milky fluid all over yourself, the bed, and Poe’s lap. He hastily shoves himself back in and out, pushing another release of liquid from you each time. Poe suddenly shouts, burying himself against your cervix and painting the inside of your cunt with his cum as the world goes dark for a few moments, your hearing narrowing as if you’re in a tunnel, your breaths loud against the inside of your ears.

You come to as Poe is shaking you gently, his brows knitted together with worry. When you blink your eyes open, a sigh of relief leaves his lips. He presses soft kisses across your face, stroking your jaw with his thumbs. Rotating your wrists, you notice he freed you from your restraints.

“You did so well, bebita,” Poe croons. “Such a good girl, coming so hard for me.” You smile gently, your mind still hazy.

“I guess you didn’t reneg on your promise this time, Dameron,” you murmur cheekily. Poe huffs, a tiny smirk on his face. “You really did fuck me ‘til I passed out.”

“And you liked it, huh?” Poe teases. You nod your head. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his body. You sigh happily, burrowing your face into his sweaty chest. Legs intertwining, the two of you share breaths as you come down from your highs.

“Do you even remember why you were being a brat?” Poe suddenly asks. You look up at him and shake your head, laughing.

“No, I fucking do not,” you giggle, “but if it gets you to fuck me this hard again, I might have to be irrationally grumpy with you another time.” Poe rolls his eyes and starts tickling your sides, causing you to shriek and wiggle away, and his cum to seep out of your pussy deliciously. 

Now you remember why you act up with Poe for no reason.

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The Ren Faire Situation 

A birth story written in conjunction with @allkindsofpreg

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“Are you 100% sure?” I asked, not hiding the concern in my voice.

You just smiled “I’ve made up my mind, I’m going.”

We had planned for the last few weeks to go to the local ren faire, where you were looking to get dressed up and enjoy the event, whilst taking what was likely to be the last chance to show off your pregnancy enhanced curves in public before the baby comes.

The problem was, the baby was coming… contractions had started this morning, and 3 hours on, they didn’t seem to want to stop.

So here you were, dressed up in your best pirate/wench outfit, pregnancy fuelled bosom looking magnificent, enhanced by the dress, cleavage spilling out of the top and leaving very little to the imagination, your bump – oddly smaller since your belly dropped a few days ago – still prominent behind the flowy fabric. A tie caught between the two, bright and causing the eye to immediately look at the area it highlights.

I’d always known you were a bit of an exhibitionist… hell, our baby was likely conceived when I was railing you on the balcony of a hotel with a crowd cheering you on from below – but I will admit, I kind of wanted you to myself when you gave birth.

But you wanted to make a spectacle of it. Have all those eyes looking at you. You know you could make it look like it was an accident – you could even make the news - “lady gives birth in public” has always been something that got your juices flowing. And here we are – contractions noticeable but not debilitating, and we’re about to walk out the house to walk half a mile down the road to the fair – and who knows what will happen from there.

“Are you ready, my lord?” you ask in a fake old world accent, pulling the skirt of your dress to the side with one hand and holding your stomach with the other, lowering into a polite curtsy. I take a moment to enjoy the birds eye view down your low lacy neckline before offering my arm and helping you to a standing position. In one fluid motion You’re upright and pressed against me, leaning down for a quick kiss.

“My god, you’re sexy,” I murmur against my lips, hands exploring your body beneath the elaborate folds of your gown.

“Mm, just wait ‘til you see me with a head crowning between my legs.” Even the thought makes you shudder with desire as you hike up the fabric to give me better access there.

I chuckle and slide my hand up your thigh, brushing over the fabric of your panties. “We may not make it to the fair if you keep this up,” I say, applying a bit more stimulation and causing you to gasp. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to stay.”

You know I’m wary about your intentions—and honestly, I make a compelling case—but you’re only going to have one first birthing experience and this is how you want to do it. “Don’t worry, baby, it’ll be fun.” I look doubtful as you display your best pout. “It’ll at least keep me distracted.” As if on cue, your stomach tightens, and in turn you make a point of keeping your stance and expression neutral, the only indication that anything’s happening a slight change in your breathing. “See? I can do this.”

“You can do anything,” I agree, removing my hand so that the hem of your dress falls back to the floor. “Guess we should get going then.”

You hook your arm around mine and, perhaps a bit too eagerly, glide out the door.

The walk to the event was a bit slow going, considering your size, but you make the most of it with seeing various turned heads, and the occasional honk and cheer from passing cars as they see your gravid form walking down the street. You had been doing curb walking for the last few weeks to try and get things moving, and automatically fell into that rhythm, up and down, up and down as one foot landed on the curb and another on the road next to it. The added jiggle factor of your breasts bouncing up and down helped with getting you noticed of course. Let’s just say that as we turned the corner into the site of the faire, you were very flustered – and it wasn’t just due to the exercise. We stopped twice on the way for a breather and to let a contraction build and pass, but thankfully we arrived without incident.

You feel another contraction build up while we’re waiting in line for tickets, but it’s easy to ignore amidst the hustle and bustle of the crowd. Everyone is in costume, many with even more on display than you, and, not to be outdone, You loosen your own tie a bit. I notice and cock an eyebrow at you as you give me a wink—perhaps later I’ll tie you up tighter or perhaps take it off altogether; the possibilities are endless and equally thrilling. We can’t keep our hands off each other and the booth attendant has to toss a piece of popcorn at us after a few gruff coughs to get our attention. She seems equal parts amused and irritated when you request two and a half tickets as you press your hands into the curves of your belly, showing it off.

Once inside, you make a beeline straight for the giant turkey legs, dashing off before I realise, surprisingly spritely for someone in your advanced state of pregnancy considering how much walking you had done already. I soon catch up to you as you join the back of the queue - the turkey legs being one of the most popular things in the area meaning the line was always big.

You were panting a little out of breath, but smiled back at me "You're too slow."

I circle my arms around you and pull you back into an embrace, kissing the top of your head as I feel your chest raising and falling in line with your heavy breathing. We both burst into a giggle as the line slowly starts to work its way down.

As we get to the front, the lady serving the food has a wide grin on her face as you approach.

"Hey there, what can I get you and the bump?"

Entirely straight faced, you respond "Bump? Oh this? I just REALLY like the turkey legs." You emphasised the size of your belly by rubbing your hands up and down it tracing the shape under your dress.

Her face was a picture, completely unsure what to do with herself. She was stammering and clueless what to do next, in worry that she was going to offend you, but the onset of another contraction soon put paid to your charade.

You couldn't do much else than wince and rub your belly, but used it as a convenient excuse to apologise to the lady behind the counter and explain that yes, you were indeed pregnant, and you would really like 2 turkey legs. And no… one was for me - you weren’t going to just pig out on them. The baby obviously didn't like you making fun of the poor lady and gave you a kick in punishment.

I was smirking through this entire exchange but we soon got our food serving, a couple of drinks and headed off to watch a band play. As we got to the showground area, one of the local attendants brought over a chair for you to sit down on, whilst I climbed onto the ground between your legs. We sat down and had a few minutes of relaxation until you started to huff and puff a little, hand rubbing your belly.

"Starting to get noticeable I presume?" I asked. You nodded, leaned forward as much as your belly would let you so you could speak in a whisper close to me and said that when we were in the queue for food it was the first contraction which had taken your breath away. You thought it was because you had just rushed to the queue, and the strenuous activity had been an influence… but right now you're sitting down, doing nothing… and yeah, it’s now very noticeable.

"We can always back out?" I asked… already knowing your answer.

"Not a chance. Did you see how much people are looking at me, looking at the bump? This is going to be EPIC!"

We stay listening to the band longer than expected—they’re quite good, and the baby seems to like it. There are little kicks and twists that seem to coincide with the beat and our amusement begins to attract attention. You’re more than happy to let the other people in the audience touch your belly to feel it too, and pretty soon we’ve got the whole crowd dancing along. With a firm grasp of your hand and waist, I twirl and dip you through several more contractions. Another one starts up just as a song ends and I pull you into me, managing to hide the grimace on your face.

Someone comes up when the upbeat tempo begins again and asks if the little one is still boogieing in there, and you turn to her with what you hope is a smile. Clearly something about your face is off, or maybe it’s my laboured breathing or the way you’re holding your stomach, but she asks if you’re okay as you wave her off.

“Just overdid it, I think. My back and feet are killing me!”

She hums in sympathy and recalls how difficult those last few weeks always are, how you just wish the baby would get here already.

You’re smiling in earnest as you say to her, “It definitely won’t be long now.”

We go to the sword fighting demonstration next, and the people in the front graciously offer us their seats when they see your bump hovering beside them at eye level. You give them a small curtsy that turns into a very ungraceful plop down onto the beach seat. “I’m just never going to get used to balancing with this thing,” you say by way of apology to the people on either side of you, pressing in the fabric of your dress around your stomach to emphasize its impressive size. “Won’t be a problem much longer, though,” you say, giving it an affectionate pat.

I’m chosen from the audience to participate—our entrance made a bit of a scene and did not go unnoticed by the actors—you whoop and holler as they pull me on the stage. They teach me a few moves and then “challenge” me for my affections, seeming to imply that the baby you’re carrying may or may not be mine, as you somehow wind up on the small platform right along with me. I do surprisingly well mimicking the moves showed to me earlier until finally I’m at a standoff. A contraction hits hard and fast and you double over with a surprised yelp and both of us on the stage turn to look at you—to cover up the slip, you make it part of the performance, like you had feigned a labour pain to fluster him, and shout, “Quick, my love, strike while he is distracted!” The actor takes the cue and allows me to land the final blow while the two of us share a passionate kiss (which earns us a fair few whistles and applause from the crowd) before taking a bow (admittedly, you didn’t bend too low) and running off before anyone can question whether you’re really that good of an actor.

The public escapades up until this point and - after that last contraction - knowing it won’t be long until the big finale has you all hot and bothered as you pull me into what you hope is a vacant tent. You wrap a leg around me waist, your hands toying with the ties of my costume. “Got time for a little more swordplay?”

As we slip into the tent we’re giddy, giggling happily, but after a few furtive glances around to make sure we’re alone, we’re quickly getting serious and down to business. Kissing across your cleavage and up your neck has you shuddering in delight as I take a moment to lift your top over your head and expose your underwear clad body to the world. My hands explore your body as I strip you of the bra you were wearing along with tugging down your panties and leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor. You’re standing there naked in front of me, glorious in your bountiful pregnant form, as you pull me close and tug down my trousers, bunching them at my feet.

My “sword” is well and truly on display as you’re licking your lips in delight as you manage to find a position you can support your body whilst leaning back against a table, opening your legs in accommodation.

My first thrust was strong, and made you yelp with the unexpected force. One of my hands grasped your hair and pulled your head back exposing your neck further to my kisses as you moaned in delight with my thrusts now slowing to a much more relaxed tempo.

You couldn’t hold that position long with the weight of the baby positioned as it was so you eventually turned and braced yourself against the table with your hands, presenting your ass to me. My knees slid between your legs and pressed lightly to the side, parting your own legs, you bobbed down into a bit of a squat to give even more access.

We scrabbled around in this position for a few thrusts into your waiting pussy but because you were quite low down it was a strain for me to keep thrusting up whilst getting the angle I needed to.

With a quick slap on your behind - resulting in the most magical squeal I’d ever heard - I pulled up a chair and sat on it as you finally lowered yourself on me - giving me free reign to enjoy your breasts and belly as you bounced.

Our groans joined each other as your approaching climax caused you to speed up your actions, my own cum releasing deep into you in a flood as I couldn’t hold back any longer. The resulting sensations tipped you over the edge as your orgasm caused you to yell out with pleasure, lost in the moment of bliss.

The sound you made must have alerted someone passing by as we heard footsteps approaching rapidly. Jumping we both looked at each other as you scampered off with an amazing high speed waddle out of the back door of the tent, as naked as the day you were born - completely oblivious to if there was anyone waiting on the other side.

I grabbed your dress and bra, pulling up my trousers but not fastening them to at least allow me to walk without tripping up. I join you outside to see that thankfully there’s no one there so I hand you over your dress and bra whilst fastening my trousers.

“I’ll need my panties too” you say “you’re dripping out of me down my leg” and that’s when we both realised that in the rush to leave I’d left them in a crumpled heap on the floor.

You shrugged “oh well guess someone will have a nice surprise… and I’ve got to deal with the leak” as you pull the top over your head - not bothering with the bra either, stuffing it tight down and pushing it into my pocket - and glance around the side of the tent in order to get back to the main show area.

We walked around and found somewhere opposite the tent we were at to check on what was happening but no one came out. They’d either dashed out before we got dressed and we missed them, they hadn’t spotted the thing we had left, or were left enjoying them - either way you seemed to be getting a thrill out of what had happened.

The next contraction took you by surprise through as you grasped onto me. I turned my head to see you visibly biting your lip to avoid letting out a scream. Suddenly there was a splash and a puddle formed between your legs. We both knew what that puddle was.

Without the cushion of an amniotic sac, the baby suddenly felt much lower, the contractions much more insistent, and the need to push much more urgent. The groan that emerged from your throat was guttural, instinctual, and you crouched down where you stood, clutching onto my forearms for support.

“Are you pushing?” I asked, slightly whiplashed between the thrills of having sex, nearly getting caught, and now this. “Already?”

You just gave me a squeeze in response, putting all your focus into breathing and controlling you volume until the contraction was over. With my help you stood back up and wrapped your arms around me, both of us still a little shaken.

Even though it came rapidly you were a little more prepared for the next one, able to maintain your standing position while your body worked to bring the baby down. You buried your head into my chest as we swayed together through the worst of it. We were hidden away, tucked in the narrow alley between tents, and any passersby would mistake it for a tender embrace. But we’d have to come out of here eventually if we wanted an audience.

There was a major show going on at the moment—something with jousting and fire and circus performers—and we made our way toward the back of the crowd. The skirt of your dress was large enough that it obscured the worst of your awkward, bow-legged waddle, but it was still a slow process. Your hand never left your belly, as if supporting it from the base would somehow relieve some of the force of the pressure bearing down within it.

Most people’s attention was on the performers, but we did garner a few nervous glances as those closest to us saw your restless shifting form and heard your grunts.

“Are you alright?” asked one of them, who was wearing a ridiculous feathered cap and carrying some sort of wooden instrument, eventually whispered when you were bent over and gasping after a particularly brutal contraction.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and a strained, “Fine.” They glanced to me for confirmation; I shrugged, but couldn’t quite hide my growing anxiety.

The concerned bard remained undecided, but kept an eye on you, and when you dropped to your knees a few contractions later, determined that it warranted a trip to the medical tent. The bard tried to help you back to your feet, but you had decided that you weren’t going anywhere. You screamed when they tried to lift you, loud enough to stop the production mid-charge, and all eyes in the large stadium turned to gape at you. “I’m- I’m having a baby!” you yell, for the sake of anyone not close enough to see what was happening.

The elaborate ties of your dress were already loosened and askew from our previous activities, so it was easy enough to subtly work the laces and slide the fabric from your upper body. It looked like an accident when the heavy textiles fell dramatically around your kneeling form, exposing your full, heavy breasts and huge belly. I knelt beside you, as if making moves to preserve your modesty, but you lurched forward suddenly onto your hands, the dress falling down your thighs and exposing the rest of you.

The restricting fabric prevented your knees from widening as they needed to, and you begged me to get it the rest of the way off you. I helped you crawl forward a step and as a result your legs were blissfully free, but this position hid the spectacle from your audience.

You grabbed for me and held as you got your feet under you, lowering into a deep squat with your breasts, belly, and pussy facing out toward the crowd. You moved my hands to your inner thighs, forcing them open wider and pulling open your dilated folds, and pushed.

The realisation of what just happened seemed to ripple through the crowd - the immediate people around us either recoiling in shock, or many grabbing their phones and hitting record.

As much as you were incredibly turned on by the attention you were getting, the force of the contraction making you to push out our baby was a significantly more pressing concern. You bellow out, completely uncaring who hears it “this hurts more than anything I’ve ever done… labouring all day… it’s just…” your voice was cut short as you simply howled in pain as your eyes closed and you bore down, desperate to move the blockage between your legs.

As the contraction began to fade and you started to regain your senses your head turned towards me, you had tears in your eyes. “Help me” you managed pitifully.

I managed to lean in close to you so my whispering voice could only be heard by you “how are you feeling? Is this just an act or does it hurt?”

“It fucking hurts…” your reply had tones of desperation in it. The next contraction was quick to pick up and you were soon pushing again, a bulge visible between your wide splayed legs suggesting the head was going to be very big.

“Here here now you poor baby, let’s see if we can help you” came a voice. I looked up, and you managed the same to see an older woman - 60s or older - pushing her way through the crowds and trying to force - unsuccessfully - to make those recording the spectacle on their phones stop and give you a little dignity.

She grunted with exertion as she kneeled down between your legs, her hands reaching down to the bulge, surprisingly chilly against your hot, distended skin. You shivered - I was trying to work out if it was through the ministrations of the lady who walked up touching your sensitive areas, or you had just orgasmed from the attention you were getting.

“I’ve pushed out 8 babies myself and caught 5 grand babies from my daughters” she offered “so these hands are good hands and know what to do.”

“What do I do?” you asked, echoing her words back to her.

She chuckled and gave me a wry smile. “In my experience—and from the looks of it, yours too—whatever your body tells you.”

“Oh god,” you groaned, the pressure bearing down between your hips insisting that you bear down with it. “I need to- I need—“

“Baby’s head’s right there, I think you’re safe to push whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m not ready! It wasn’t supposed to be like this; there’s so many—hnghhh, fuck—people!” Your words dissolved into moans as you yanked desperately against my flared knees, but all that did was pull taut your skin and emphasize just how small your opening was in comparison to the large head bulging behind it.

“That’s it, let it stretch,” the woman soothed, running her fingers along the edges of the modest crown. You pressed yourself into her touch and she hummed in recognition. “Nothing to be self-conscious of here, dear. Do whatever feels good for you; it’s all natural.”

You brought your fingers to your clit and rubbed a few quick circles before the stimulation became too much. You cradled your belly as you pushed, but your hands soon wandered to your breasts, your nipples, and the resulting whines were a mix of pleasure and pain.

“It’s too big!” You wailed between pushes, looking to me in desperation. “It hurts. It’s burning, please, do something.”

I looked to the woman and she shrugged. “She’s the boss.”

I looked warily around at the many pairs of eyes fixed on us, but they faded into the background as soon as I wrapped my body around yours. You took one of my hands in yours and guided the other one between your legs as another shot of pain jolted out from your stomach, up your spine and through your hips. I thumbed gently at your sensitive nub and explored the changes in the folds that I knew so well.

“Help me stretch.” came your plea.

I dipped a finger under your stretched skin, gently tracing the cap of our baby’s head. Another contraction started and you pushed, my fingertips spreading you open even wider than the head. I pulled away quickly at your pained yelp, but it had helped—the head was staying put now, even between pushes.

“It’s stuck, it’s- I’m going to tear!”

“Oh no you don’t,” the woman said, getting her hands in the way between us, taking back up their work with the emerging head. She placed her palm flat against the exposed crown, applying a fairly firm pressure to keep it from coming out even as I continued to stretch painfully around it—prolonging the torture. “Pant. Pant, now,” she instructed.

“Please, I need to push, let me push!” you whined, unable to resist your body’s urges. You bore down again, but she just pressed in harder as you cried out as the two impossible pressures clashed right at the peak of your pain.

I had managed to get myself out of her way and resulted in getting directly behind you. You shoved your hips back, desperate to retreat from her iron grip, and your ass rubbed against my hard cock. You hear me whisper a string of curses and ground harder against my hips—if you had to suffer on the precipice of release, so would I.

You shuddered and relaxed a bit as the contraction waned, and the woman likewise relaxed her grip against you. There were a few gasps as she pulled her hand away and the crowd got an unobstructed view of the massive crowning head.

The view of a couple of flashes from people’s cameras were ingrained in your mind as you sit there, panting, the few moments of respite between contractions giving you little time to pant through and get some energy back before you needed to push again.

You leaned back against me, rubbing my engorged cock between your body and the fabric of my jeans. I let out a little groan as I felt myself approach my own little precipice.

The next contraction ramped up though and more of the same happened again - the desperate need to do nothing else but push, and this random stranger lady pressing back against all your effort.

You lost it as the frustration toppled you, all focus on the pain radiating between your belly and your legs, and this woman who was actively trying to make it harder for you.

“Let me push!” You screamed between gasps of the contraction as she just tutted at you.

“Don’t be a baby dearie” she took it in her stride. “I’ll let you stretch nice and slow so you don’t tear. You have a big one here.”

“Please!” You gasped, “Please… I’ll tear, I just need it out and you’re stopping me.” The last word was a chilling wail.

Despite your obvious discomfort my own sordid desires were being tweaked simply by the amount of effort you were putting in. Your body pressed back into me as you undertook push after push, my cock getting rubbed more and more.

I felt myself release as you wailed out. My cock pulsing and throbbing as each squirt filled my underwear. I felt it run down my leg. I pulled you in close grabbing your hands and crossing them over your chest pulling you tight against me as I hoped that there was no evidence of the leak on my trousers with all the cameras trained on us right now.

My shiver wasn’t missed by you as you look up in my eyes, meeting me with a weary but loving grin, for a few moments you smiled until the smile was replaced by a scowl as once more it was time to push.

Your body twisted and trembled as the war against instinct continued. Your hands grasped at nothing as you sought an outlet for the pent up energy you couldn’t focus into your core—your fingers clawed at my hair, the grass, the fabric of your discarded dress, the tight skin of your stomach.

“Fuck this hurts,” you huffed, more for me than for the onlookers. Then, louder, “Another contraction, already?”

You reached a shaking, tentative hand between your legs, brushing the woman’s aside and winced as your fingers grazed the tender flesh. It bowed and flexed with the force of the contraction alone and you whimpered as your lips peeled slowly back around the widest part of the head.

“Alright, now we’ve got ‘em right where we want ‘em. Give it all you’ve got, honey!” I almost hissed the words trying to keep it quiet enough that only you could hear.

In your opinion, sweeter words had never been spoken and wasted no time putting your chin to your chest and giving a hard shove. In a cruel twist of fate, the baby now seemed content to stay right where it was. You tried again, pushing harder this time, and howled in frustration when it didn’t budge.

“Come on now, girl, push!” came the woman, I had echoed something similar.

“I’m trying, it’s- fuck, it’s really stuck!”

After another two contractions of stalled progress, she finally believed me. “How about we get you on your feet,” she suggested. “Come on now, help her up,” she prompted, but I froze, keeping you tight against me.

“My- I can’t,” I whispered frantically in your ear, and you nodded— you understood.

You waited for the next contraction, took a deep breath, and leaned forward putting everything into the push, making an effort to make sure that the lady’s hands wouldn’t get in the way of this push. Your hips lifted just enough so they were hovering on top of my crotch and you screamed, all the anxious and excited attention fuelling another mighty push as the head shot out the rest of the way with an impressive gush of fluids… which sprayed across the entire front of my trousers, concealing and blending with any other stains that might have been present.

“Fuck,” you gasped, both in surprise and relief, as you got the rest of the way to your feet. Then an agonized, “Fuck!” as the baby spun and the shoulders settled quickly and violently into place against your tortured hole. You bent my knees and braced your palms against your thighs as you started to push again.

The lady beckoned me forward and I dashed around from behind you to kneel in front, hands poised in place just under the dangling head of our baby.

Now at eye level with your pussy, I watched as the shoulders bulged and gravity threatened to pull the heavy child the rest of the way out. “What should I do?” I asked the old woman, though my eyes never left you.

“Catch!” she said with a laugh, and I raised your hands just in time for the baby to slide into my grasp.

Your yell of triumph was magical as the vernix-covered baby slid into my hands, the lady, unexpectedly diving forward to catch you under the arms as you sagged, threatening to collapse with the effort. You were gasping, panting for air, you were shell shocked, but one thing was clear – you had realised you had done it. My god you were grinning.

The lady helped lower you to the ground as I held on for dear life to our baby – a daughter – my eyes weirdly focused on the umbilical cord connecting the small bundle in my hands to your gaped opening.

“Shit” was all I could mutter.

“Shit, indeed” you echoed.

You realised a blanket was suddenly placed over your shoulders as paramedics arrived, covering you up from the gawping onlookers. You’d done it. You had your dream. You’d given birth in front of a crowd. No doubt Youtube and who knows what other sites will be flooded with footage of this tomorrow. At least we know we will have a record of our birth.

The baby was taken from me as her umbilical cord was cut, and she was checked over. I sat next to you in a daze as paramedics helped check you over.

You leaned in close to me as you kissed me and then got very close to my ear, whispering so no one else could hear. “We need to go one better next time. We live stream to the entire internet !”