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ihrtsimi · 2 years ago

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— all you need ;

→ pairing — minlix + m!reader

→ summary — felix and minho have been secretly watching over the supposed boy of each of their dreams. when they each finally get the courage to corner their boy and take what’s theirs, they realize that they��ve been in love with the same man.

→ genre — smut

→ warnings — extreme kinks (like very extreme, please be cautious), stalking, threesomes, cnc, bimbofication / mindbreaking, double penetration, degrading praise, god + master honorifics, oral (reader receiving and giving), domtop!minlix and subbottom!reader

→ word count — 2.45k

→ author’s note — oh boy, this is my first smut and i’m starting right out the gate with some heavy kinks! i saw this req by @nxthnii and just HAD to write it.

→ song (s) currently stuck in my head —

i can transform ya by chris brown feat. swizz beatz + lil wayne

i’m coming back to you.

so i really hope that you don’t mind.

i know you want me too.

even though you’re not mine,

you got that look in your eyes.

there were two things ruminating in minho’s brain at the moment: how undeniably horny he was and how breathtakingly beautiful you looked in the cheeky polaroid of you he was currently masturbating to. he didn’t even realize how he got here. from his perspective, the picture of you and his cock just landed in his grip, and he wasn’t complaining. it didn’t take him long to finish, his mind cloudy and swirling with the imprinted image of his favorite person in his mind as he lie underneath his silk sheets. he couldn’t sit in his filth for too long before jumping up and heading into the shower. even though the water was piping hot, his bare body was cold; the loneliness and craving for you overwhelming him so badly that he grabbed his phone charging on his bathroom’s mahogany countertop to call the only contact in his phone, his friend felix.

“hello?” felix answered sleepily, despite it being 8 pm.

“i gotta get out the house, man. desperately,” minho responded, not even acknowledging the other’s greeting.

felix immediately understood, ending their conversation short after letting the other know he was on the way. it didn’t take long for him to arrive at minho’s apartment complex, a quick run up two flights of stairs and a doorbell ring away from ending up crosslegged on minho’s black leather couch. the two haven’t spoken in a minute, their individually busy schedules preventing them. yet, conversation came easy. two hours of talking eventually led down the path of relationships, a topic the two men haven’t spoken about before.

“so… how’s dating going? any current prospects up for the love of the illustrious lee minho?” felix joked, his arms rested behind his head while his short fingers toyed with his blond locks.

minho never knew how to respond to that question. how does he admit publicly that he’s been stalking the same boy for three years and is deluded enough to think they’ll one day be together?

“nothing much, you know.. just.. hanging.” was the answer he ended up giving felix, his mind blank before clearing his throat to reciprocate the question.

“i’ve been thinking about this one guy,” felix started, “he goes to my gym and i stare at him while he weight trains.” felix gushed, his eyes glistening as a rose tint began to pepper his cheeks. “it sucks, though. i don’t know his name. but, i know that he works at this coffee shop up the street, and i was planning on going there today to see if i could ask him out!”

felix watched minho’s cat like lips curl up into a smirk. he began understandingly, “i think you should go after him.” felix’s eyes widened, “are you sure, hyung? i know you wanted some company.” minho nodded in response, beginning to stand and collect his belongings to leave his apartment. “i definitely do. i have something…,” he paused to check his watch for the time, “…that i need to do myself. so, go! have your fun.” felix jumped up giddily, rushing to grab his things before rushing out with a ‘bye!’

as minho laid in the overgrown bushes of the the apartment complex that was now so familiar to him later that night, his eyes darted around frantically. he knew where you worked. he knew where you slept. and, he waited for you every night. he knew what times you left and came, watching protectively to assure you arrived home safe. felix had left his apartment about 30 minutes ago, and right when he left, it was time for minho to arrive at his watchful post. he assumed today’s schedule was no different as he sat and waited, checking his apple watch occasionally as time passed by.

9:30…

10:00…

10:30…

11:00….

this was uncharacteristic of you. usually, you’d be home by 10:15. minho’s watch, phone, and patience we’re slowly draining, and his irritation only worsened when he saw your figure stumbling drunkily towards your front door with… someone else? if he expected anything, it definitely wasn’t that. he’d been observing your every move for years, and you weren’t the type to get blasted after work and rush home in the after hours with a random stranger. his mind was racing, thoughts flooding him as he flowed through his concurrent emotions. after irritation, however, came anger. anger that you would dare promiscuously flaunt yourself around. that you would dare have him worried sick about your well-being. that you dare be with anyone else but him.

it didn’t take long after seeing you enter the building before he followed earnestly behind, his eyes low and passionate as he tried to get a good look of the man you were with, the man he would have to eliminate. soon enough, he was at your front door. with shaky hands, he reached in his pocket for the secret key that he owned to your apartment and unlocked the door, his eyes wide with shock as he walked in and shut the door behind himself.

there you were. on your knees for the stranger with his cock deep down your throat. the overhead fixture gleaming brightly as it exposed your perverted state on your kitchen floor. the stranger’s hand on your chin as he sat at your table, your eyes glistening— drunk, and fucked out, and the thick cock of the man taking what belonged to minho. he didn’t know how to address this situation. should he cough? run up and shove himself down your throat? go grab a knife and attack the stranger? his mind was in complete survival mode; territorially wanting to put a stop to his worst nightmare. his brain fumbled through these few options before just deciding to go up and make the stranger reveal himself.

minho rushed over, shoving the other man aggressively. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growled, his vision and the figures in front of him growing hazy in the heat of his rage. once his eyes settled, the sound he almost let out was abysmal. the stranger was none other than lee felix. he didn’t know how to react, his throat suddenly dry while he attempted to speak.

“f-felix…?” he croaked, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights. felix was equally as stunned. he hadn’t a clue what was going on. after leaving minho’s apartment, he rushed to the cafe where you worked, barely catching you before you left. the two of you chatted for a while before ending up at the bar two blocks from your apartment. it was felix’s idea to head to the bar instead of the much closer restaurant, and if you asked, he wouldn’t tell you it was to get you drunk. but, that’s exactly what it was. after achieving his goal, he walked you home, perversely waiting for you to get drunk and horny enough after letting him in to let him ruin you. luckily for him, that was as soon as humanly possible. you sat still on your knees, your body hot and breath uneven as your drunken mind tried to process the events unfolding in front of you. part of you was terrified. how did this stranger get in? why are they upset that you're fucking felix? and why does it seem the two of them know each other?

but...

another part of you was too horny to function. your mind racing with the previous fantasies you've had of someone breaking into your apartment and fucking you senseless, and you wouldn't let this opportunity pass up. so you finally spoke.

"i can take you both," you said as you began crawling seductively until you sat prettily between the gap in the two men. they stared at each other, unable to speak. felix and minho both finally had the boy they had been pursuing underneath them, and they each wouldn't let an opportunity of their own fall through. they glanced at each other, a competing level of lust filling their looks before they moved their attention back to you.

"on your bed. arms and legs spread out. you're going to experience the fuck of a lifetime, boy," minho snarled sexily, his eyes dark as he began to walk to your bedroom. you quickly stood up, rushing towards the room feverously with felix rushing eagerly behind you. as you laid on the bed, minho began to unbuckle his belt before gesturing for felix to do the same. as minho began to tie your arms up against your bed frame, he watched you wither around. you were reaching the peak of your drunkenness and your neediness was fading, so you whined softly, begging for some kind of stimulation quickly. that earned you a smack across the face from minho, who chuckled at you darkly.

"look at you, baby. desperate for your two strangers to touch you just so you can get your perverted little climax," he spoke before leaning down to whisper in your ear, the hair on your neck standing up at the feeling of his minty breath against your hot skin, "unfortunately for you, that won't be coming so soon." instantaneously, he latched to your lips, kissing you deeply like he would never kiss anyone else ever again. the kiss was surprisingly passionate and sensitive despite the circumstances, and something about that fact lit the fire in your stomach all over again, your cock beginning to twitch just from being craved so deeply. felix just sat and watched intensely, his hand lightly palming himself before he cleared his throat to announce his presence. "pay some attention to me too, angel. i would really appreciate your help again," he started as he began to make his way to the head of the bed. he looked at minho for conformation before patting your cheek lightly as a signal for you to open wide. you opened your mouth wide with your tongue flat and eyes wide with excitement, and felix couldn't contain himself, shoving his length deep down your throat again with a guttural groan.

minho was growing increasingly jealous just watching the scene, and it only egged him on to be more aggressive. he moved his kisses down from your lips to your collarbones, sucking and biting on them so hard, you thought you were bleeding. every whimper you let out only grew his confidence, and eventually, he was all the way to your nipples, giving them the same treatment as the rest of his marks. just watching your dick get progressively harder from being faced-fuck and teased so slowly was making a tent large in minho's pants.

"i didn't know this was the boy you were talking about, felix," said minho as he kissed from your left nipple to the middle of your chest and progressively moved down your stomach. as you watched minho make his way to the spot you wanted touched the most, you shuddered which elicited a tsk from the elder.

"and i didn't know you had your eyes on anyone. i guess it's time to fight for him," felix retorted, his hand raking through your h/c strands as he held your head in place and thrusted.

"may the best man win," shrugged minho before he finally wrapped his plump pink lips around your leaking tip, sucking on it ever so slightly. "but, it seems i've already got him under my control. isn't that right, baby? tell felix how much you love when your god touches you."

"fu-fuck yes, god! i love it when you touch me," you exclaimed, your brain mushy from the stimulation. obviously, that made felix angrily thrust faster into your throat, abusing it mercilessly before growling out in his huskily deep accented voice, "well, tell your god that you only need your master, and that you only want his cock." at this point, drool was falling out of your mouth and your throat was so full you could barely speak, so all you managed to muster out was a pitiful "m-master..." before you gagged so hard felix's cock fell out of your mouth. with this time to collect yourself and gather your thoughts, you looked up to both of your domineering partners, your eyes low from being fucked silly.

"i want you both inside of me. i want you both to coat my inside with your gross fucking cum, and i want to be both of yours. please my god. please, my master. i want to feel so good," you begged as you desperately tugged on minho's pant leg.

"fucking whore. such a pretty little fuckdoll for us, right, felix," minho questioned as he watched you pull on his pants, "should we give our boy what he needs?" felix sat and pretended to ponder, hesitating only so he could hear your sounds. "i think so, hyung. why don't you take him first," felix said with a devilish smile, slapping his cock against your cheeks with a groan at the precum beading on your face before moving back around to the head of the bed and beginning to strip. minho followed suit, taking his clothes off slowly as he gave you a show. the two of them then positioned themselves on the bed in front of your wet hole with minho underneath you before he forced himself in hastily. he began thrusting at an inhuman speed, stretching you out like he was hate fucking you.

"god... you're so fucking tight, baby," minho grunted as he gripped your waist and took what belonged to him for the first time.

before long, he instructed felix, who was impatiently waiting on the side stroking himself, that he could finally fit in as well. felix immediately took the opportunity and moved in front of you and began to struggle to insert himself inside of you. after a slight readjustment, he slid himself balls deep inside of you. the two men sat still as patiently as they could to let you grow accustomed to the fullness in your stomach. they could both tell you were close and wanted to use you as much as possible until you withered for them. unexpectedly, they both began to thrust at a similarly aggressive rhythm, the feeling of both cocks fucking your insides driving you so insane, you could barely form coherent thoughts.

"nghh.. feels so so so good," you moaned shakily, your mind completely broken.

"good boy. such a good fucking boy," felix grunted as he collapsed onto his arms over you and minho's bodies, fucking into you feverishly. once you felt them both hit that specific spot in your prostate, you wailed, cumming all over both you and felix's stomach. the sight was enchanting, and made both men exclaim. "fuck, i'm gonna fucking cum!" minho moaned as you began to rock your hips into him to stimulate the men even more. "me... me too...," felix whined as they both simultaneously filled your hole to the brim with their cum.

as you all came down from your heightened states, you laid in each other's arms, catching your breath as you studied the features of the beautiful men intertwined with you. and all you could hope was that this would be happening again soon.

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razorblade180 · 8 months ago

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9 days of Lancaster Day 5: Hidden Relationship

Ruby:*washing plates*

Jaune:*dirty* Hey there stranger. Hard at work I see.

Ruby:I lost a bet with Nora and this is my punishment. What’s with the smudges?

Jaune:Yang wanted to help me “improve my combat abilities.”

Ruby:Ooof, I’m sorry.

Jaune:I’m not immediately sore like last time so that’s something.

Ruby grabs a glass and fills it with water for him.

Jaune:Awww, my heart. *grabs it*

Ruby:Hush you goober. I know Yang’s training all too well. I’m surprised you’re walking.

Jaune:Well y’know, recently I’ve been getting in good stamina training.

Ruby:*red*…Is that so? Hadn’t noticed. My training is always pretty vigorous.

Jaune:Oh I’ve noticed. Guess I still have a long way to go. Although…I’m sure you’d have a little more trouble with my “training”

Ruby:Pfft, oh really? I think I’m pretty fit in case you haven’t noticed!

Jaune:Oh I’ve noticed.

Ruby:…..*flicks water on him*

Jaune:Ah!

Ruby:I couldn’t think of a comeback. You’re filthy anyways. I’m just washing you up a bit.

Jaune:If that’s the case…I think there’s a smudge around my chin I can’t quite get off.

Ruby didn’t know if it was herself, Nora, or Yang that has influenced Jaune, but it was a diabolical blessing. The young knight approached her innocently with a smile. Ruby double checked their surroundings then preceded to gently rub her thumb across his chin. Of course, Jaune took the opportunity to pull her in by her lower back. Ruby gladly became ensnared in his trap, going as far to stand up on her toes and give a sweet, mischievous kiss.

The two of them giggled as they continued peppered each other with growing affection. If only more of these moments could come by frequently. Unfortunately, privacy is hard in a group of nine, and the both of them wished to revel in this growing relationship away from others. Not forever of course, but long enough to make it feel personal and intimate. Although if the others knew, they’d probably tell them intimacy is far from a problem.

Ruby felt her body hold him closer as their kiss became…less innocent. Jaune was seconds away from putting her on the countertop when the click of a doorknob snapped them back to reality. An instant petal burst brought Ruby back to washing dishes while Jaune focused on his water as Yang walked in.

Yang:Hey party people! Ruby, you should’ve seen Jaune during our match. Gotta admit, he’s getting some moves. Almost pinned me a few times.

Ruby:Wow, that’s high praise. Practice must be paying off.

Jaune:*refilling water*

Yang:Someone’s thirsty.

Ruby:Pfft, I’ll say. He’s all red too.

Jaune:W-What can I say? Things got pretty heated, literally.

Ruby:Please don’t singe him. We can’t explain that to Nora.

Yang:He will be fine. All he needs is a little rest and a well deserved bath. Also isn’t Nora supposed to be on dish duty?

Ruby:I lost a bet, which sucks because I wanted to look around Mistral a bit.

Yang:I’ll take over for ya. You suck at drying anyways.

Ruby:Hey!

Yang:I’m gonna put my things away first. Jaune, hit the showers. You smell like smoke. *walks off*

Jaune:Gee, I wonder why!

He waves goodbye at Ruby and heads to the bathroom. Honestly it was a miracle he didn’t singe anything. As he walked in a closed the door, a sudden gust went by him. Jaune turned around and was greeted with a swift hand over his mouth from Ruby while the other quickly locked the door behind him. She slowly moved her hand and smiled.

Ruby: I lied about Mistral

Jaune: You are gonna get me killed.

Ruby tried not to laugh. She ran the sink and turned on the bath for more noise.

Ruby:Gotta make opportunities where you can. Besides…*red* You got me a little riled up.

Jaune:I mean…fair but- my life.

Ruby:You’ll be fine. I’ll sneak out after I learn about this so called “training” so let’s just focus on us. I can also help you wash up, like any good partner would do. Unless… you don’t want to?

She didn’t even let him respond before taking off her cap and sitting on the sink counter with a wide grin. Ruby held her arms out, inviting him. Despite his protests, Jaune easily walked into the embrace and found his hands back where they were before they were interrupted.

Jaune:Prepare for your workout.

Ruby:Hehe, lead on. I’m happily in your care~

#rwby #9 days of lancaster #rwby lancaster #ruby rose #9 days of lancaster 2024 #jaune arc #yang xiao long

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seventeenpins · 2 years ago

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triptych - pt ii

pairing: tommy miller x joel miller x f!reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: after a shitty day, the man you've been chatting with all evening brings you back to his place only for you to discover he lives with his brother, an old flame of yours. they both fuck you. pre-outbreak. 18+

warnings: ooof i know i'm gonna miss something but here goes! multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pussy eating, dick sucking, ass eating/ass play, anal, joel miller is an ass man, double penetration, it's literally just porn there is so little substance here it's shameful, probably not incest but maybe a little??? like the brothers aren't into each other but their balls kinda touch so i'll leave that just in case..., light spanking, creampie, light breeding?, pls tell me if i'm missing anything important

a/n: wowowow i cannot believe how fuckin lovely y'all are, i hadn't been writing for years but i certainly never received so much feedback. thanks for reading and interacting and being part of such a cool and deeply horny community 😅 my asks are always open and i'd love to take on some requests! thank u to those who've sent some so far, i'm working on them now. besides requests, upcoming fics include a follow-up to bad girl and a vampire au 💕

also, thank you for indulging in this pairing!! (grouping?) i feel like a lot of threesome fics are very pro-joel with tommy cucking, and though they're fucking excellent, i wanted to give tommy some love and an equal place at the side of his incredibly hot brother.

check out part i

when you'd first sat down at that grimy dive bar, never in a million years would you have anticipated the scene that was unfolding in front of you now.

“shit," tommy says, "she looks so nice down on her knees for us, huh joel?”

joel looks feral as he stares you down. "such a good girl for us,” he agrees, “but we gotta see if that mouth can do more than talk.”

he's holding your wrists behind your back, while tommy grips a firm hand through your hair and unbuckles his belt with the other.

"open up, baby," tommy says, and presses one finger into your mouth and then another. he gently strokes his fingers in and out of your mouth, pressing into your tongue, slowly going deeper and deeper till you're sure you can feel the digits at the back of your throat. you can feel that you've started to drool a little, and tommy lets out a little groan at the discovery.

"you think you're ready for me?" tommy asks, and you nod.

in one smooth motion, his cock is springing from his boxers and the head is pressing gently at your lips.

feeling just the tip in your mouth, you already know your jaw is gonna hurt tomorrow. you relax your jaw and open wider, and tommy makes a slightly strangled noise that you take as a great sign.

as he fucks into your mouth, your eyes begin to water and tommy notices, brushing the tears away.

"you're takin' it so good," joel lavishes his praise on you and you never want it to end, "such a good girl, aren't you? keep that throat nice and open for my brother, won't ya? i know you wanna relax into it, baby, let him see just how much you love havin his dick down your throat."

it makes you moan, his words making you almost uncomfortably wet. tommy keeps thrusting down your throat, hips occasionally stuttering.

"shit, honey-" tommy says, and chuckles at your whine when he pulls his cock out of your mouth, "you're suckin' it so good, i need a break or i'm gonna come in that pretty mouth a whole lot sooner than i mean to."

joel drops your wrists and backs up to the sofa.

"why don'tcha sit on my lap, darlin'?" he grins, and pats on his inner thigh, his cock visibly straining in his jeans, a little damp patch visible where you're sure the tip is.

"only if you take your pants off," you say, and joel's eyebrows shoot up.

joel considers. "fine, but we're gonna work you up real nice before you get to sit on anyone's cock.

once you're sat on joel's lap, his cock straining against his boxers, tommy’s kissing you with such frenzied passion you feel dizzy. the sensation is only heightened when joel runs a knuckle down your spine, dragging over each vertebrae, massaging and tantalising. then both hands are grabbing at your waist and over your hips as if mapping you out. it’s not overtly hungry, not yet, but there’s a sensuality to it you didn’t quite remember from your brief and ill-fated encounters with joel years back. you're suddenly hit with a pang of sadness that you never stayed in touch. you would've liked to see him get his first grey hairs. instead it feels like you hit fast forward and jolted ahead.

joel's close behind you and you feel his hot breath on your neck as he pulls down the neckline of your top and licks a line along the hollow of your collarbone and back up to your ear, and the drag of his tongue is delicious. he nibbles on your earlobe and the sensation draws an obscene moan from your lips.

tommy’s close to you, too, his big hands cupping your jaw as he kisses his tongue deep into your mouth, running it along your teeth. his cock is still hanging out from his jeans, thick and hard, and you don't try to disguise the way you stare at it as you look him up and down.

"you've got far too many clothes on, sweetheart," tommy grins, and you pull off your top. before you can unhook your bra, joel's already unfastened it and is helping you pull it off.

tommy drops to his knees now, licking and sucking at your nipples, as joel unbuttons your pants, unzips them, and helps you lift your hips to yank them off of you.

the graze of tommy's teeth against the sensitive flesh of your breast makes you whimper and rut up on joel's thigh, and the brothers both laugh at your desperate noises.

"shit, she's needy, ain't she?" joel teases as he grips your waist with one hand and lets the other drag down to your panties, holding you in place while he starts to rub his fingers along your slit through the damp fabric.

he tugs at the band of your lace panties and ponders for a moment. "you partial to these?" he asks, and you shrug, "not particularly".

"good," joel says. that's all he needs to hear before he's tearing them apart and dropping the tattered fabric aside.

"well now you're just putting on a show," you tease, and he laughs but doesn't disagree. he just strokes a finger along your folds.

"i think you're a girl who likes a show," he tells you as he gathers up a little bit of your slick and slides it along your pussy. "now, what else do you like, darlin'? you want me to play with your lil clit? or just finger fuck you?"

"both," you whine, "any of it. all of it, please-"

he teases a finger into you very gently, just a little press that goes a little deeper each time he pulls it out and presses back in, till you realise he's sinking it in all the way to the hand with each thrust.

right as he adds another finger, to your surprise, tommy drops to his knees. he spreads your thighs wider and looks up for a moment, and you think you can feel joel nod behind you. that's all it takes, and tommy dives in. joel thrusts his fingers into you more urgently as laves kisses on and around your clit. he deepens it, pressing harder, flicking his tongue furiously along your swollen nerve endings and there's enough sensation that you know you won't last long.

"yes, that's it," you cry, and now it's your turn to grab tommy by the hair and press his face right where you need it the most. you're grinding up on his tongue while joel steadily continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, and you know you couldn't be quiet even if you tried.

"fuck," your words sound more like sobs now and you really don't give a shit, "keep going, just like that, joel you can go harder, tommy yes, lick my clit like that, i'm gonna- i'm gonna come-"

"good girl," joel talks you through it, "letting us take care of you like this. you need us to fuck you stupid, don'tcha? you're gonna leave here in the mornin' all stretched open, feeling us deep inside ya for days, huh?"

his filthy words are all you need to teeter over the edge- "fuuuck!" you scream, and you're positively panting now, verging on hysterical. you know joel can feel your pussy clench around him, you're so wet you're worried you've ruined joel's jeans, and you're so overstimulated that you can't speak more than a syllable or two at a time.

"oh you come so pretty," tommy says, pulling away from you to speak. you can see the way his lips are glistening with your slick before he kisses you on your inner thighs, peppering the soft skin with attention.

then, your eyes practically roll back in your head as he dives back in.

joel hasn't stopped fingering you, either, and once tommy's mouth is back on you, joel presses his fingers back into you more deeply again.

"shit, it's too much, i don't think i can take another this quick-" you try to say, but joel shushes you.

"i can already feel it coming," joel tells you, "can feel how your thighs are trembling, how you're already clenching down on me."

you're treading dangerously close to uncomfortably overstimulated, but you're also so completely turned on, you barely care. if you're gonna die in pursuit of a nut, so be it.

"fuck, you're right-" you tell joel, and tommy moans into you letting delicious vibrations pulse through you, and that sends you over the edge again.

you thrust and writhe and rut against them both, and tommy shows you mercy this time, drawing back and letting you get a little relief from the overwhelm of sensation instead of keeping his mouth on you.

you need a moment to catch your breath, and both joel and tommy rub soothing circles into your skin, joel's hands on your hips and tommy's on your thighs, and it feels exquisite.

"that's it, sweetheart, that's it-" joel soothes, and though your breathing's evened out, you know your thighs are still shaking.

tommy's licking up the arousal from between your thighs as if cleaning you off, and he looks up at you with almost dopey, half-lidded eyes, grinning.

"you taste like heaven, honey," he says, and he looks almost as fucked out as you feel. all this from eating pussy, you wonder, and that's another point in the favor of tommy miller being a man who likes to take care of fine things.

"i think i'm gettin' jealous now," joel teases, "i might need a taste, too."

without another word, tommy kisses you deeply and you taste yourself on his tongue. joel tilts your head back to meet him, and he kisses the taste from your mouth, groaning as he does it.

the sounds they're both making are so fucking hot, you love how they emote. there's nothing as unsexy as getting fucked by someone who stays absolutely silent throughout, and hearing them as pathetic as you feel works you up even more.

"what do you need, sweetheart," joel asks, and he's running a finger along your swollen folds now, teasing and torturous.

"you want us to fuck your pussy and your mouth," he asks, and moves to stroke a finger along your cheek, "you wanna have a big cock on either end of ya?"

you shake your head and joel raises his eyebrows.

"tell us what you want, baby," tommy says, and joel drags his fingers back along your pussy before tentatively using his forefinger to circle your asshole.

"please, joel-" you realise you're begging and it draws a laugh from tommy.

"you're a naughty girl, aren't you?" tommy asks, and the way he's grinning tells you that he wouldn't want it any other way.

"wanna feel full of you, both of you-" you whine.

"you gotta tell us, else we won't know what you want," joel says. from his tone of voice, it's clear he knows exactly what you want, but you need to beg for it.

"my pussy. and my ass. wanna ride both of you, feel both of you, get fucked by both of you-"

"jesus christ," tommy moans, "i bet we can make that happen, huh, big brother?"

you turn around to look at joel and his pupils are so blown, his eyes look black.

"bedroom." joel says, and it isn't a request.

tommy scoops you up in his arms and follows joel to his bedroom.

"drop her right here," joel says to tommy, and you're deposited on the edge of the bed, joel kneeling on the floor in front of you.

"looks so pretty for us," tommy says, and he sits down in an armchair near the foot of the bed and starts stroking his aching cock.

you'd been so fucked out already, you almost forgot you'd done almost nothing to take care of them. tommy's cock looks almost red and angry, and joel's is still tucked into his boxers, but the damp spot is spreading and it looks so thick through the fabric.

"let's get you ready for us, sweetheart," joel says, and without any more warning, he hooks his hands under your knees and pulls you up, legs spread, knees hanging over his shoulders. "i'm gonna eat this cute lil asshole, baby," he says and spits on your tight hole before rubbing his thumb gently against it, spreading the saliva.

he teases you with his tongue a little, testing it before pressing it flat and licking along it. you moan, and he growls against you.

you learn very quickly that joel miller is an ass man.

he eats ass like he was made for it, growling into you, spit dripping down his chest as he keeps your legs propped up on his shoulders, your thighs held in place with one arm. you're gasping through your moans and joel is drawing circles around your hole now, popping a finger into his mouth, and tentatively pressing it into the tight ring of muscle. it's fucking animalistic and you don't think anything could possibly make this better, until you notice the moans coming from tommy and the wet sounds of him furiously fisting his cock.

you're already fucked out from your first orgasms that you're practically boneless and limp, totally relaxed in a way you didn't often get. it made the feeling of joel fucking his fingers into you more glorious, building you up in a way you're not used to.

he makes quick (but thorough) work of opening you up, till he's got three fingers in your asshole and tommy's telling you how beautiful you look through his own choked moans, and you think you might lose your mind as you pant and grind and whine and joel isn't saying anything because his mouth is far too busy.

he pulls back and takes a good look at you. with someone else you might feel uncomfortably exposed but instead, you see hunger and desire in the brothers' and you know this is affecting them at least as much as it is you.

"i think we've got ya ready," joel hums, and he turns to look at his brother, "wanna check?" he asks, and tommy stands up and walks over.

you know you feel loose and ready, but the simple act of tommy popping a finger into your mouth to get it wet and then tracing it around your asshole, examining the preparation, drives you insane.

"i think she'll take it good for us," he grins and your heart flutters, "good girl," he says to you.

"you ready for us?" joel asks, and you nod.

"fuck me," you tell them.

joel lowers you down from his shoulders and tommy lays down on the bed before beckoning you.

"giddy up, cowgirl," he says with a wink, and you roll your eyes but take your cue.

you crawl up the bed, straddling his legs and then hovering over his cock which he's holding aloft.

"you good, baby?" he asks softly, and it's incredibly sweet in a way that makes you want to eat him up alive and also get fucked within an inch of your life by him.

"fuckin great," you tell him, and you pull him into a deep kiss before relaxing yourself over his cock, letting the head press into your pussy and sinking down onto it.

"jesus christ," he chokes out, and he sounds so desperate you can't help but fucking down on him, your ass slapping as you, move, his cock pressing so fucking deep into you and then you feel joel approach you from behind his hands gently running over your asscheeks and you know he's feeling the way your flesh bounces as you get off on his brother's cock. then, his hands are off of you, you hear the squirt of a lube bottle, and suddenly joel's thick lubed tip is pressing against you.

you try to thrust backwards towards it, but almost pull off tommy's cock fully, and it's like you're trying to ride both ends of a dick seesaw.

joel notices your frustration, laughing as you writhe.

"patience," he says, and delivers a sharp smack to your ass that thrusts you deeper onto tommy's cock. then, you can feel joel pressing into you, inch by inch.

once his cock head is fully sheathed in your tight ass, you take a moment to breathe before you start to find a rhythm that'll get all of you off at the same time. it takes a moment, and a few adjustments by all three of you, but before you know it, you can feel tommy brushing against your cervix and joel fully fucking into your asshole, practically rearranging your guts. with each rough thrust, they're fucking into you as one.

you're all moaning, gasping for breath. the slapping of skin against skin is delicious, and you're certain joel's balls are smacking against tommy's and you're not sure if it's weird or the hottest thing you've ever experienced.

you feel so full, you feel so fucking full it's perfect, it's delicious, you wanna be split open like this for the rest of time, want to feel two fat cocks using your holes for their pleasure, for your pleasure, because it all just feels so fucking good.

"fuck," tommy says, and it's the first thing any of you have been able to vocalise for a minute, "i'm gonna-"

"come in me," you tell him, cutting him off and he shudders.

that's all he needed before it hits him and he lets out a deep groan and unloads deep into you. it sets off a chain reaction. you come next, clenching around tommy's cock and exploding with a sob, your entire body shaking uncontrollably, and that tips joel over the edge, too as you whine at him, "come in my ass, joel-" and then he makes a strangled noise and you feel his balls tighten and hips stutter and he's unloading in you, pulse after pulse of thick come.

you lay there, tommy beneath you and joel on top of you, their cocks still twitching inside of you. gently, you tap joel's hip and he grunts and rolls over, pulling out of you. you gingerly pull yourself off of tommy, and then immediately collapse between the two of them.

"well, shit," you say, so totally blissed out you're floating on a whole other level.

"jesus christ," tommy says, and then joel starts laughing and it's the best thing you've ever heard.

"you doin' alright, darlin?" joel asks, "we take good care o' ya?"

you nod, consumed with so much euphoria you can't use your words properly.

"good- good joel," you say, "good tommy," you pat them each on the thighs and joel snorts.

tommy pops off the bed for a moment and rummages around in the other room before coming back to ask, "need a hit?"

you nod and he places the joint between your lips and sparks it. you take a deep inhale and slow blink as you sit yourself up and look at both of them.

"let's clean ya up, darlin," joel says, and, as it turns out, tommy brought a washcloth as well as weed. and he had my priorities straight you think.

"if you want me out of your house," you tell them, "you'd better tell me now so i can call a cab. otherwise, i'm gonna pass out here in the next twelve seconds."

"i won't be here in the morning", joel tells you, "got an early shift, but as i recall, tommy's specialty is box pancakes and they sometimes turn out edible."

tommy playfully slaps at his brother, and then kisses your cheek. joel kisses your cheek, too. tommy cleans you up a little, and you fall contentedly asleep between these two beautiful men.

the last thing you think before you drift off is fuck that promotion, it's not such a bad day after all.

#tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #tommy miller #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tommy miller fanfiction #tommy x joel x reader #tlou fic #tommy miller smut #joel miller smut

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casuallyobssessed · 4 months ago

Text

.357 Magnum - Donnie Barksdale x Fem!Reader ❥ 3.2k Words

Messin’ with the Devil's gonna get you burned. Everybody knows that.

A/N: Please read and heed all warnings! I had a lot of fun writing this. Let me know if you see anything wrong with it or if I missed any warnings. I don't have a beta reader. :)

Warnings: Dead Dove content, dub-con/non-con, P in V Sex, graphic depictions of violence, domestic violence/abuse, murder/suicide, oral sex (m!receiving), knife and gun warning, piss mention (brief), No Use of Y/N

Archive of Our Own Link

Donnie’s 1983 Chevy K10 rumbled along the dark back road. You double check that your seatbelt was tight enough. It made you nervous every time he'd cross the center line, even if there weren't any other cars coming. This truck was Donnie's baby. He wouldn't really let anything happen to it. Even so, you couldn't tell if the swerving was another one of his tactics to scare you or if he was just that intoxicated.

You had desperately tried to get the keys away from him before you left AJ’s bar, but Donnie trusted his drunken instinct more than your sober driving. It was useless to remind him of his numerous DUIs he already had under his belt. Crime doesn't count when you're hunting buddies with most of the guys in the sheriff's department. Part of Donnie's problem was feeling invincible. He gets by with everyone turning a blind eye to his behavior.

Without warning, Donnie whipped off to the side of the road, dangerously close to wrapping you both around a tree. Your first instinct was to grab the door handle and close your eyes, but the impact never came. After taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you look over at him expectantly.

“Gotta take a piss,” He grumbles in your direction.

He pulled the keys from the ignition, slid out of the driver's seat, and braced himself on the door for a moment before walking around beside the truck. You felt the truck rock a bit as he put all his weight against it with one hand. Donnie didn't bother shutting the door, so you tried your very best to ignore the sound of him relieving himself. You look out your window into the woods. There wasn't much moonlight, so you couldn't see anything past the glow of the headlights. You wonder how far you could get if you took off running into the trees. How long would it take Donnie to find you?

Last time you ran off, it was after a fight and it only took him an hour to track you down. Donnie knew the woods in this county like the back of his hand. He taught you a very valuable lesson that day. You couldn't run and you damn sure couldn't hide from him.

Donnie getting back into the driver's seat and slamming the door made you jump, bringing you back to reality. You settle back into your seat, face forward, and mentally prepare for the rest of the ride home. When the truck doesn’t start, you look over to find him staring at you with a wicked grin.

“Come on, Darlin’. Sit next to me, I promise not to bite ya too hard,” Donnie said as he patted beside him on the bench seat. His words oozed with an artificial sweetness.

As much as you don't want to, you oblige. You unbuckle your seatbelt and slide over to sit next to him. Donnie’s large, warm hand rests on your thigh, just barely obscuring the healing bruises he had left there days before. His gaze bounces from your body to your face. You could tell exactly what he wants from you.

He leans in close to your neck, languidly peppering it with sloppy kisses while creeping his hand up your thigh. When he kisses your cheek, the alcohol on his breath makes your eyes water. Roughly, he pushes your dress up over your thighs and exposes your underwear.

“Don't wear this shit out the house again. You had every man in that bar starin’ at you. You're lucky I didn't knock your ass out, embarrassin’ me like that in front of all them people,” He forcefully grips your thigh as you nod.

You really want to roll your eyes and remind him that he was the one who told you to wear it. Sober Donnie loved how this dress accentuates your curves, how the dark blue brings out your eyes, and how it cuts off just below your ass, showing off your legs. Fortunately, you were smart enough to keep that to yourself.

“Matter of fact, I’ma take care of that, right now.”

Donnie reaches into his pocket and pulls out his knife. In one smooth motion, the knife is open and pressing against the top of your dress, right between your breasts.

“D-Donnie, don't, please.”

“I don't think you're in a position to be tellin’ me what to do, Darlin’.”

With a firm grip, he presses the knife down. The fabric of your dress is thin and immediately begins to tear apart underneath the blade. Donnie only gets halfway down with his knife before he finishes ripping it all the way down with his hands. When the open air hits you where your dress once laid against your chest, your nipples immediately perk up. You wish your body wouldn't respond to his antics.

Mentally, you were curled up in your closet, knees pressed to your chest and safe. Physically, you were in the cab of your husband’s truck, vulnerable and exposed. The husband who once vowed to love and protect you. Now, he consistently broke those vows. If it wasn't him beating you unconscious on a bad day, it was him sleeping with someone else's wife on a good day. There weren't any great days anymore. Only days where you go through the motions and days where you're trying to just make it to the next sunrise.

Today was one of the days where you were trying to make it through to the next day in one piece. Donnie was trying his damnedest to see to it that you didn't. As you zone out, Donnie was continuing his assault. He gropes your breasts before pulling and pinching at your nipples until it hurts. You try shoving his hand away, but you're met with a scowl and a sharp, painful tug at your nipple causing you to squeak.

“If you ain't gonna let me have any fun playing with ya, can ya at least do me a favor and give me some head? I ain't asking for much,” Donnie sighs and exasperatedly tosses his hand up in the air, seemingly giving up on torturing you for the time being. He folds his knife up and tosses it on the dashboard. You’re able to breathe a little more easily now that it was out of play.

“Then we can go home?”

“We’ll head home when I'm ready to.”

You nod again, and shrug out of the tatters of your dress, leaving you in only your underwear. The promise of home was enough for you to entertain his request. Donnie unbuckles his belt, undoes his jeans and shimmies them down to his mid thigh. He gestures at his crotch and then rests his arm on the back of the seat.

“Get to it, then. Ain't got all night.”

Getting up on your knees in the seat, you turn towards him and rest one hand on his thigh, while using the other to pull his already hard cock out of his boxers. You lean down and tentatively lick his tip. The bitter, almost sour taste of mostly dried urine makes you recoil a bit. With him being drunk, it was a wonder he hadn't pissed all over himself behind the truck.

Unfortunately, Donnie sees your displeasure as some kind of insult because the next thing you know, he's got his hand fisted in your hair. Yanking your head back, he glares down at you with a dark glint in his eye.

“Somethin’ wrong? You're actin’ like you ain't done this before,” Donnie spits his words at you.

“No, I just-” He cuts you off, tugging on your hair harder.

“If I was you, I'd be real careful choosin’ my next words.”

“I just don't feel good,” It’s not a lie, per se. You didn't want to upset him any more than he already was. Though, you really don't feel very well with the combination of his manhandling of you and the way your stomach was doing backflips.

“Alright, well,” He shoves your face back down into his lap, “Suck on it. That'll do you some good, make us both feel better.”

You groan inwardly. The alarm bells in your head fail to ring louder than the threat of whatever Donnie was capable of, so you ignore them and take him into your mouth. You use one hand to pump him at the base while you bob your head up and down. At some point, Donnie gets bored with your speed and takes matters into his own hands. Using the hand he has in your hair, he shoves you all the way down on his dick as he groans. You're not prepared for the intrusion. You choke and gag, pushing backwards against his hold, but you're nowhere near strong enough to compete with him.

Hot tears spill down your cheeks and you struggle to hold back a sob, but the way your throat constricts around his dick causes him to buck further into your mouth. You somehow endure Donnie throat fucking you for a short while before he's pulling you off of his dick. As you gasp for air, he mumbles something about not wanting to cum yet. There's drool mixed with pre-cum and tears smeared across your face. It feels sticky and disgusting. You sit back on your knees and stare blankly at the fogged up driver's side window, trying to avoid looking directly at your husband.

While Donnie is still preoccupied with himself, you furiously wipe the tears from your eyes and try your best to scrub the spit mixture from your face using your hand. It doesn't work very well, but it's enough to make you feel less gross on the outside. Inside, you feel raw with emotion. Your chest hurts and you feel straight up violated.

By the time Donnie turns his attention back to you, the tears have mostly dried up and you give him a small smile. You know he's not usually like this. He must have had a really bad day and just needs to let off some steam. When you think about it that way, it hurts a bit less. Donnie looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on your breasts.

“Y’know, I’ve got a comfy lap, Darlin’, why don't ya come sit on it?” Donnie pats his thigh and grins at you.

“Can we just go home? Please?” You shake your head at him and scoot backwards.

The smile on Donnie's face fades into a frown. There's no way you could handle having sex with him right now, especially not in this stupid truck. With a growl, Donnie leans forward, hand flying to the glovebox. He pulls out his revolver, and holds it directly to your head.

“Seems to me like you need some motivation."

There's no way Donnie was crazy enough to kill you. Was he? Definitely not if he was sober, at least. Drunk? There was no telling at this point. This wasn't the first time Donnie has threatened you with his gun, but it was the first time he had actually pulled it on you. Cold and unyielding, the end of the barrel bit into your skin as he pressed it harder into your temple.

Click.

“Don't make me repeat myself, goddamn it.”

“Donnie. Please, put the gun away, I'll do whatever you want.”

Donnie laughs.

You need to want this. He's your husband and you love him. You want to please him, take care of his needs. Well, that's what you try to convince yourself of. You shouldn't need a cocked revolver pointed at your head just to have sex with him.

As your hands shook, you pulled your underwear off and straddled him in the driver's seat. When you position yourself in his lap, the steering wheel cuts into your back, adding to your overall discomfort. It's been made very clear that only one person's comfort matters right now, and it definitely isn't yours. You wish you were at home. At least there you could be doing this on the couch a lot more conveniently.

Donnie snakes his arm around your waist and it feels like it's made of fire. He pulls you closer, lining his mouth up with one of your breasts. The way he licks, sucks, and bites roughly at your nipple makes you want to scream. You could feel the rotten growth of resentment weighing on your chest.

You lower yourself onto his dick, but your body resists. You try to go slowly, but Donnie is an impatient man. He thrust up into you without warning. The minor amount of wetness you mustered up did nothing to help the sting of him stretching you open more than you were ready for. He is, unfortunately, very well endowed and any other time it would have felt like heaven when he slid into you.

This time, it felt like he was burning you from the inside out. The flames were crawling up your throat, but you swallow them, for him. You stare at Donnie's chest, trying your best to avoid eye contact with him. Whether or not he'd notice the threat of tears in your eyes again, you didn't know. If he did, he probably wouldn't care, not with the state he was in.

He places his unused hand gently around your throat and gently brushes his thumb against your skin. It sends a wave of comfort over you, reminding you of how sweet he used to be. For a moment, you forget that he's holding a gun to your head to keep you compliant. You're not thinking about how badly you want to kick and scream. You focus on feeling good, wanting this to feel normal.

As you finally adjust to him inside you, you're confident enough to take more control. You begin fucking yourself on his cock. This isn't where you wanted to be or what you wanted to be doing, but you might as well try to enjoy yourself. You balanced yourself with one hand on the door and the other hand tight on Donnie's shoulder. Finally, you find a solid rhythm and the perfect angle that puts stars in your eyes with each bounce of your hips.

“Look at you, Darlin’. You're doin’ so good for me.”

Donnie's voice is gruff as he tightens his grip on your throat. You are keenly aware of how his fingers dig into your skin, but you decide you like it. The pressure keeps you grounded, focused. The desperate moans and grunts falling from his lips were enough to encourage you to pick up the pace. Grinding down on his cock felt like bliss now that you were getting into it.

“Ah, fuck. Fuck. Keep doing that,” Donnie groaned.

You do as instructed, though you begin struggling to keep moving steadily. Pleasure is pooling in your gut and you feel heat building up in your cunt. You are getting so close, but your body needs something more to push you over the edge.

Donnie adds more pressure to his grip around your neck, but drops the hand holding the gun to rest on your thigh. The cool metal feels strange against the heat of your sensitive skin. It's enough of a distraction to cause you to falter and slow down. You let out a pitiful whine and close your eyes as you try to build your momentum back up.

Suddenly, Donnie’s hand is gripping your jaw, forcing you to look him in the face. There's a fire blazing behind his glassy eyes. Confused, you stop moving, coming to a halt with him fully seated inside you. Did you do something wrong?

“Did I tell ya to stop?” Donnie hissed.

He lets go of your jaw, only to rear his hand back and slap you hard across the face. The force flings your head to the side and you grab your cheek. Tears spring into your eyes as your skin stung from the contact. Donnie brings the gun back up, presses the end of the barrel to your cheek this time, and begins thrusting up into you once more.

“You’re gonna look at me while I'm fucking you. Do you understand?”

Your lip quivers in response. If you try to speak, the dam will break and you'll start crying again. Then, you'd really be fucked.

“Speak, goddamn it,” Donnie snarls at you.

“O-Okay.”

You're choking back another sob as you nod your head. You are making sure to keep constant eye contact as you half heartedly start moving again to meet his thrusts. From the way Donnie was looking at you with lidded eyes and the new bruising grip he had on your hip, you could tell he was getting close. His grunts became more strained, thrusts more sloppy. As he cums inside of you, face buried in your chest and his gun to your head, you feel all of that aching resentment bubble to the surface.

The reality of your situation was finally setting in. All these years were wasted on taking whatever punches he threw: the manipulation, the cheating, the abuse. You endured all of it so that you could proudly say you stuck by him through thick and thin once he finally got better. The problem was that Donnie was sick, beyond the possibility of saving. He would never get better. You were stuck with a man you couldn't fix.

What happens to dogs when they bite one too many times? When is behavioral euthanasia the better choice for quality of life? If anyone was qualified to make this decision for him, it had to be you.

While his guard was down, you had the perfect opportunity to make your move. You reach up, grab Donnie's wrist, and shove his arm back towards his own head. Between the alcohol in his system and coming down from the high of his orgasm, he wasn't processing what you were doing. You hold his hand still and inch your thumb towards the trigger. Confusion etched across his face before it clicks for him and his expression turns into dread. You’ve never seen true fear in this man's eyes before. It feels… refreshing. Without a second thought, you squeeze the trigger.

Red splatters against the fogged up window, the headliner, and your upper body. Your ears are ringing something fierce. Donnie's body slumps against you as blood pours from the side of his head, running down your breast and dripping onto your thigh. You breathe a sigh of relief. The euphoria is short lived as you see the flickering blue lights coming up the road through the back window. You glance at the revolver in your hand and back up to the approaching headlights. Another glance down at Donnie has your whole body shaking. Once again, you have to make a choice. With a deep breath, you lift the gun to your head. Without a second thought, you squeeze the trigger.

#donnie barksdale x reader #the gift #donnie barksdale x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanuverse #the gift 2000 #donnie Barksdale

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darlingsfandom · 7 months ago

Note

Hiiiii! I don't know if you're doing requests or not... but if so, could you do some type of affair thing? Like Cillian is at some gala and sees reader and wants her badly, even though he has a wife? Thanks!!

Hi, I can do that(:

TW: Cheating, fingering, face fucking, p in v unwrapped, no pull out, gagging.

Not proofread!

Lights flashed as many celebrites and other rich people made their way into Gala. You were hooked onto the arm of the Gala owner who was your best friend after all. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before walking around to greet all the guest.

You made your way around only to stop dead in your tracks as he walked in, Cillian Murphy! Your heart did a backflip watching him walk into the building. This had to be a dream. You stood there watching more like gawking at him.

"Good god, pick your jaw up off the floor!" Your best friend chuckled as he grabbed your shoulders from behind.

"DId you invite Cillian Murphy?

"I did!" "And you didn't tell me?" You playfully hit has his hand.

"Honey, he's married! Don't do something stupid." Your best friend patted your shoulder before running off again. A sigh left your lips. He's not wrong, you shouldn't do something stupid.

As the night went on you did your best to avoid Cillian. It was working well until you went to go freshen up , pushed back your seat and accidently hit someone making them spill their drink on your exposed cleavage.

"I'm sooo sorry." The apology was half assed. You gave an awkward smile before bolting out of the room, through the doors and into the hallway only to what felt like a wall.

"Fuck! I'm sorry!" You about bursted into tears.

"Hey tis okay, no need ta cry!" You knew that accent anywhere. Of all the people to run into. You looked up at Cillian through your lashes as he put his hand on your shoulder. "Are ya alright?" He asked giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"Uh yeah, just had some wine poured on my boobs..." He raised an eyebrow before looking to see a redish stain and drops going to your breasts. You had mentally slapped yourself. The two of you stood there looking at each other before you excused yourself to clean up the mess.

After cleaning up the wine, you took a second to double check your make up. Everything looked fine, your hair still looked nice flowing down your back and your little black dress was fine despite the wine. It was still hugging you all the way down to your feet that were in a nice pair of pumps. You made your way back out only to walk into Cillian again.

"We gotta stop meetin like tis." He chuckled as your cheeks turned bright pink.

"Well this is a dream come true for me!" Cillian smiled as you tucked some of your hair behind your ear. He reached forward, grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips before giving it a small kiss. He looked up at you and seen how red your cheeks were, butalso how your lips were parted slightly, eyes glazed. Your head tilted slightly making him stand up striaght and clear his throat.

"I shouldn't say this, but you're a very attractive lady and I.."

"kiss me!" You cut him off and he could'nt say no. He yanked you down the hall were it was more exclusive and pushed you up against the wall. His lips smashed into yours. You moved your lips hungerly against his. Teeth scrapped against teeth, hands all over each other as his tongue slid into your mouth. This was wrong, you knew it, he knew it, but neither of you could stop. The kisses got heavier by the second making you whimper into his mouth. Cillians hands squeezed at your hips making you grip onto his arms.

"I have ta confess, seen ya as soon as I walked in, knew i had to have ya." His words struck you making you clench around nothing.

"Have me!" You pleaded. Cillian looked around before taking you into what looked like an empty storage closet. You tripped over a bucket making him chuckle before pinning you agaisnt the metal rack. His hands snaked up your dress to pull your panties down around your ankles. His fingers gently rubbed against your folds. You watched carefully as he slowly pushed his index finger in you making you gasp.

"Shh honey, ya gotta be a good girl and be quiet." Cillian pressed his lips to yours and kissed you while sliding his finger in and out of you. He added another finger into you making you grip the rack behind you. Cillian kissed down your neck as he twisted his fingers in you. "Such a wet cunt and i barely touched ya."

"I've wanted you for so long!" You mumbled while your brain turned fuzzy because of how his fingers worked you over. Cillian pulled out his fingers and licked them clean before shoving them into your mouth. You sucked on his fingers while keeping lust filled eye contact. He pulled them back out so he could unbuckled his pants. You bit your lip and watched as his pants and boxers pooled around his ankles.

"oh fuck..." Your mouth hung open at the sight of his cock. It was what you had imagined. Nice, thick, average sized and a nice salt and pepper happy trail.

"It's yours honey." Cillian took your hand and placed it on his hardened cock. You wrapped your hand around the shaft while getting down on your knees. His hand rested on your head as he watched you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. You looked like an angel on your knees to him. The way your eyes glazed over as the head hit the back of your throat making you gag was pornographic. He swore this was heaven. Cillian threw his head back with a groan as you sucked him off like a desprate whore.

"Dats a good girl, suck me cock yeah.." His fingers tangled into your hair and yanked it to guide you down on his cock. Drool dribbled down your chin as he fucked your throat. The room echod the gagfing noises as you let him abuse your throat with his cock. Your hand reached down and massaged his balls making him moan. Cillian pulled you off and looked down to see the string of spit connecting your shiny lips to his cock, he smiled while pulling up to stand up straight before lifting up on of your legs.

Both of you looked each other in the eyes as he rubbed the head of his cock against your folds.

"Fuck me sir, please" Your words made Cillian push all the way inside of you in one movement.

"FUCK!" Both of you cried out. You felt so tight and warm around him. His cock was bigger than what you thought and it stung as you stretched. He held your hips as he started to slowly fuck into you. Your hands held onto his shoulders for better balance while he gently bounced you on his cock. Your mouth hung open making the prettiest moans escape. Cillian held onto you tighter, bouncing your faster as you held him tighter. You leaned in to kiss him desperatly, his tongue mixed with yours as he moaned into your mouth. Both of you were on clound nine.

"Fuck just like that Cillian!" You whimpered as he angled your hips to go higher. He grunted loudly. It was ectasy feeling his cock fuck into, the way his grunts made you clench, your hands gripping his jacket pulling him closer so you could bite his bottom lip. When he felt that, he moved his hands to under your ass and gave it a smack. He kneeded your ass cheeks while fucking senselessly into your cunt.

The heat rushed over your body. "Please please please! I need to cum Cillian!"

"Cum for me honey, make a mess on me cock!" His breath was hot and paced as you looked into his eyes. His cock was making you full. It was like nothing else exsited in that moment. Your orgasm hit you hard. You hands gripped onto his arms as you cried out his name. Your body shook hard as you clenched around his cock. Cillians own orgasm hit him hard and fast with no time to pull out. His cum filled you to the brim, you could feel the warm liquid dripping down your thighs and onto the floor. Cillian held onto you as the two of you came down from the high of your orgams.

"I'm sorry honey didn't mean ta cum in ya,. Ya just felt so good." He kissed the top of your head. You looked up at him with soft eyes and stroked his cheek. "It's alright, it's what I wanted." You kissed him while he pulled out of you. The two of you cleaned each other up the best you could. He offered you his arm to help you walk back out to the gala like nothing had happened.

"If you ever need a good time again..." You whispered to him. "I'm all yours."

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #au cillian murphy #cillian murphy au #emsblurbs #cillian murhpy #cillian murphy drabble #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x fem!reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 1 year ago

Text

Series Masterlist

Chapter 3

Warnings: Allusions to violence; injuries; accidental urination

You were almost certain your feet were bleeding, but you dared not stop to check, hesitant to even turn to inspect for bloody tracks. The heels had been left behind and you had no others. You hid the limp well, accustomed to pain. Your head remained lowered in subjugation, your gaze only high enough to see the back of Daryl’s legs. You needed to know if he stopped or changed direction.

The food and water had proven to be both a blessing and a curse. While it had provided the nourishment you so desperately needed, it had also left you with a mighty problem: your bladder was almost painfully full. You debated on asking permission to step off the road, but feared the repercussions of speaking without being spoken to first.

“I gotta take a piss.” Daryl huffed, not breaking stride when he veered to the left and into the ditch, heading toward the trees. You halted immediately, the sudden stop making the urge to go nearly unbearable. Standing still was impossible. You bounced painfully from foot to foot, your thighs pressed together.

“Y/N.” You flinched at the sound of Rick’s voice. His tone was gentle. You just weren’t used to someone saying your name instead of some sort of degrading term. You slowly lifted your head, meeting his eyes for only a moment before dropping your gaze again. “Do you need to—?” He trailed off, and you looked up just as he motioned to where Daryl was currently relieving himself on a tree. You nodded meekly. Rick smirked. “Just go on over there with Daryl.”

You nodded again and stepped into the grass. The soft ground was a welcomed change from the gravelly pavement. When you would usually never dare to run, you moved quickly, only stopping when you came up next to Daryl.

The man did a double take. “The fuck, woman?!” He quickly turned his back to you as he finished tucking himself away, the look on his face one of surprise and frustration. He didn’t really appear to be angry. Regardless, when he whirled back around with his hand up, you just knew he was going to strike you. You covered your head to shield yourself from the impact, the sudden fear resulting in the loss of bladder control.

When the hit never came, you lowered one arm to risk a quick glance. Daryl was staring down, no doubt seeing the rivulets of urine descending down your legs. In panicked horror, you began to mutter apologies, fully prepared to then be struck or forced to your knees for a different sort of punishment that would offer at least some gratification for him.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Sir! I just haven’t had that much water in ages and I— I just—”

“Jesus. Just—hang on.” He was already pulling his pack off his shoulders, kneeling down to dig through the contents. A moment later, a bandana and a sleeveless shirt were being shoved into your arms. “Clean up and an’ change into that but—turn ‘round.” You didn’t hesitate, your back to him almost instantaneously. There was a shuffle of clothing and the distinct click of a belt buckle.

Oh.

So, that’s what he intended to do. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time a belt was used on you. Regardless, you continued to unfasten the clasp on your barely-there top, allowing it to fall to the ground. The shirt was quite large on you, a bit of your breasts visible under the arm, but it was at least comfortable.

“Here.” You looked over your shoulder to find him holding out a pair of boxers, his belt still undone. Your first instinct was to curl your lip, but you quickly crushed that thought. “I know it ain’t the best idea but ya can’t exactly walk up with ya business all out either. We got kids there.”

Kids? You finally accepted with trembling fingers. “Right. Thank you, Sir.”

The archer sighed, securing his belt. Free-ballin’ wasn’t his idea of a good time but he’d just have to deal with it. “Can ya please just call me Daryl?”

You bent over to step out of your panties, using the bandana to clean up, and then pull on the gifted undergarments, not really considering the view you were granting Daryl in the process. What you couldn’t see was the sudden redness that filled his face or the way he quickly averted his gaze. “Big Jazz always said it takes a while for customers to adjust to being addressed so formally.”

Daryl scrubbed a hand over his face. “Ya done?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“For fuck sake. Let’s go.” You lowered your eyes, only sparing a momentary glance at your discarded clothing before you began to follow him. He’d surely punish you after nightfall when Rick had gone to sleep and would probably prefer you naked anyway. When Daryl stepped back onto the roadway, he paused. There were small prints of blood leading up to where he’d last seen you standing. “Your feet bleedin’?”

“It’s fine, really.” You replied, a little too quickly. He considered you for a moment before shaking his head.

“Nah, can’t have ya leavin’ a trail.” Rick was watching curiously, his head tilted. Daryl had returned to the tree, digging a small hole in the earth with only his hands so that he could bury the clothing and bandana. Satisfied, he dusted off his hands on his thighs and returned to where the two waited. “Can’t do much ‘bout them prints but the trail’ll go cold here.”

You glanced down worriedly at your feet. They still ached and burned and bled. So what exactly did he plan on doing with you? He handed his pack to Rick, but when he pulled off the crossbow, you felt nauseated.

“Sir?” Your voice was so timid, he didn’t hear it but he did see you take a step back, though it was obvious you hadn’t realized it. Please, don’t kill me. I can be better. The weapon was also passed off to Rick.

“Ya got two choices.” You blinked up at him owlishly. Then he was moving toward you and you reacted, shuffling backward with your palms out in front of you. He stopped short, angling his head to narrow his eyes in an expression you couldn’t quite read.

It was with learned control that you focused on slowing your breathing and heartrate. “I’m sorry.” Your arms quickly dropped to your sides, dainty fingers twisting into the hem of the oversized shirt.

“Ain’t got time for this shit.” A calloused hand wrapped itself around your bicep and pulled. Your body crashed into Daryl with a yelp but things didn’t end there. He swept his arm beneath your knees, fully pressing you into his own space. “S’this or piggyback. Which ya want?”

You allowed yourself to scrutinize the archer but not for long. Once you were settled in his arms, your eyes met his for the first real time. How could anyone have eyes so blue? Even with the crease in his brow and the slight curl of his lip, that kindness in his eyes had been the one thing to remain.

“This—this is fine, Sir.” You wouldn’t argue. He was worried about people following, not about how bad your feet were hurting.

“Ya good with that?” Daryl jerked his chin toward the crossbow that Rick was maneuvering onto his back.

“Yeah, I got it. Let’s get a little further before we set up camp.”

Daryl began walking a few paces behind Rick, his steady stride rhythmically rocking you in arms. You couldn’t remember the last time a man had touched you without the intent to harm in at least some fashion. The archer didn’t seem like the sort of man that would eagerly inflict pain upon you, but he did buy you. If not for his own gratification, then why?

You had to admit he was attractive. He had an air about him that you found calming, contradictory to the indifference that was always settled on his face. Maybe it would almost be enjoyable when he inevitably fucked you. Maybe he wouldn’t take such pleasure in marking up your skin with unwanted contusions.

You dropped your gaze to where his fingers wrapped around your legs, just shy of the back of your knee. His hold was sure but not overbearing. He didn’t hold onto you like you were his property, even though that’s exactly what you were. He cradled you gently. He carried you like he actually cared.

It was confusing. You shouldn’t let your brain be lured into such impossible fantasies. Maybe he was being kind now, but once Rick was asleep and Daryl had you alone, he would certainly give you what you had coming. It was the way of the world now. It was what men had become.

But would it really hurt to let yourself imagine, just for a moment, that he was different?

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swifty-fox · 10 months ago

Text

What Comes After

blacked out. wrote 1.7k fic for @bcolfanfic's Young vets AU.

Fanfic/Sequel of

Tw for aftermath of a suicide attempt and all that may entail

Nobody tells you what to do in the hours after your husband tries to take his life. Nobody says you’re going to be angry.

Nobody tells Gale how much he’ll have to pay for gas to the only Hospital for miles, seven hours tailing the red ominous lights of an ambulance there seven hours back all alone for the first time in a long while (one-hundred-twenty-seven dollars and fifty-three cents).

There’s nobody to tell him how to smile at his husband as he’s led away in a stunned daze. Does he smile at all? Small and painful and fake?

And who can he ask what to do as he comes home to a now empty home, dawn well past finished and a hole the size of a man's life in the wall. A hole, no bigger than a nickel and just perfectly at eye level. The difference between a happy ending and a tragedy; the scales tipped kindly in his favor this time.

You never wrestle for a gun. That’s the easiest way to get your own damn self shot.

A coin flip. Heads for John, Tails for Gale.

“Guess the quarter got stuck in a crack.” he mutters. He knows his thought patterns aren’t quite clear, confused and weighed down by exhaustion and shock.

Somewhere an animal is in pain. It gasps raggedly; sharp and raw. Someone should put that animal out of its misery, nothing deserved to be driven to sounds like that. Gale knows he is that animal. He swipes at his suddenly-tear soaked cheeks with a rough palm and sits down on the floor hard.

His phone is in his hand, it’s first instinct to want to call John, hear his teasing voice (it hadn’t been teasing in a long time Gale Cleven don’t you lie). Bucky wouldn’t answer. He knew it would be a day or two before he would get an update on his husband. Not until observation was over, until paperwork was filed and permission was given. The nurse had explained it all through the ringing in Gale’s ears.

“Curt.” Buck says, shocked by the steadiness in his voice even as more tears trail their acidic way down his face.

“Hey Buck, y’just caught me on break what’s up?” The familiar voice, clipping all it’s ‘T’s away to nothingness devastates Gale. He lets out a sob with all the violence of vomiting.

“Gale?”

“Ah fuck Curt, John had a gun.” Gale moans, covering his eyes and trying to breathe. The gun, now tossed carelessly on their bed like a stray shirt.

Nobody tells him how to inform their friends of what has happened.

“What.” Curts voice is so strangled, so tiny that Gale realizes his fatal error immediately.

“He’s okay. He’s okay Curt the gun- it went into the wall. He’s at a hospital right now. He’s where he needs to be.”

Gale had heard that phrase a lot; spoken by people trying to reassure themselves that their loved ones would come home whole and healed. Now he was one of those people whispering the phrase with false confidence.

John needed to be Home.

Curt devolves into a mess of swearing, punctuated with a passionate “Fffffucking VA!”

“I woke up and he wasn’t next to me. I thought maybe he had gotten out somehow, past the alarms. I’d already gotten my gun out of the house Curt I didn’t think-”

There's muffled voices on the other line, Curt talking to someone else, “- No I’m sick can’t you see? Gotta go Sean sorry. Fuck the client pardon my fucking french I gotta family emergency.” A car door slams, the sound of keys in an ignition. “You didn’t know Buck. It’s not your fault you did exactly what ya should’ve.”

“He had the gun to his chin,” Gale says numbly.

Is there anyone to tell him how to get that single heart-stopping image out from behind his eyelids? He saw it every time he closed his eyes.

“Fuck, Gale.” Curt exhales. “He’s okay?” so vulnerable, so sad, needing to double check just in case.

“He’s in fucking psych ward. I can’t even call him.”

“Yeah dumb question.” A pause where Gale just tries to breathe, looks up at that hole in the wall. It could be a woodpecker's hole on any tree outside. It was in his home and smelled faintly of gunpowder and terror. “I’m looking up plane tickets right now.”

“Y’don’t have t-”

“G’fuck yourself, I’m coming.”

Gale has no strength to argue, he’s got nothing left, really.

“I almost lost him, Curt.”

“But you didn’t.” Curt still sounds stressed and Gale feels a twinge of guilt for ruining the guy's day just because he wasn’t able to help his own partner. “You did everything right. And you’re going to go to bed, then you’re going to wake up and I’mma be there. And we’ll deal with things together.”

“Together,” he echoes.

“Get some sleep Buck. I’ll send you a text when my flight lands.” Curt orders before hanging up.

The thought of going into the bedroom; to the bed he shared with John. To have to see that fucking gun again.

Nobody tells him how to handle that.

Gale falls asleep on the couch instead.

-*~*-

When he awakes it’s night again and he feels such a violent sense of deja-vu that he has to do a walk-through of the whole house just to make sure that saving John hadn’t actually been a dream. That his body wasn’t lying somewhere with horrifying finality.

Nobody tells you that maybe your husband's trauma-based decisions might cause a little trauma themselves.

Even though he knows there will be nothing - John's phone kept safely in a plastic bag along with the rest of his personal effects- Gale checks their messages first. Scans them for any sign, any slip that he may have missed that told him what Bucky was planning. ‘Love You’s’ and ‘Be Home Soons’ and ‘Get There Safes’. Bucky had been struggling, but he hadn’t seemed quite that bad yet.

Or maybe Gale just hadn’t wanted to see it.

There’s a text from Curt showing his seven hour direct flight was only a half hour from landing.

Exhaustion still claws at Gale as he shuffles out to the truck, clothes rumbled and sweaty from sleep, from stress; from wrestling a fucking firearm from a man determined to end his life and Gale’s in the same action. The truck is too silent. John usually sat to his right, hand on his thigh or the back of his neck; always touching Gale in a way the blonde allowed no other man to do.

He has to pull over to stop himself from hyperventilating.

When he pulls into the pick-up zone at the Airport it’s nearly deserted aside from a short familiar man in a windbreaker and military boots.

Curt takes one look at his pale face and walks around the nose of the car to the driver's side.

“Budge over.” He says, opening the door and waving an impatient hand at Gale.

Gale didn’t think he could, felt like his hands were glued to the smooth leather of the wheel. Just twenty-four hours ago he’d driven Bucky to the hospital in this car. He wondered at how quickly he’d gone from seeing the next steps so clearly in front of him to having to remember how to even speak. He was a puppet, his strings cut the moment John had entered the doors of the hospital. Through security guard checkpoints and metal detectors and locked doors. It was like being back in the desert with that level of protective diligence; or perhaps a prison

That can’t be very good for Bucky.

Nobody told him it might have been a good idea to inform the hospital why sometimes the glint of metal in the light made John do a double take.

When Gale still hasn’t moved, Curt lets out a tender sigh and unclips Gale’s seatbelt for him like the other man is a child.

“Come on Cleven, scoot on down the line.” He says gently, gives him a light push.

This is enough for him to move his wooden limbs, shuffle awkwardly over the center console and collapse gracelessly into the passenger seat. Curt hauls himself into the truck with an awkward grunt. He takes a second to maneuver his leg, move the seat upwards and the wheel down, and adjust the mirrors.

Gale sits there, opening and closing his hands. John had sat here last. Cried here not because he was alive and safe like Gale had cried; but for the opposite.

Nobody told him how to sit in a puddle of his husband’s shed grief.

“Here,” Curt tosses his phone into Gales lap. “Text Kenny for me will ya? Tell him I got y- got here safe”

“Does he know?”

Curt pulls out of the airport, opens a window and leans his arm out as if he could air out the stuffy melancholy of the truck. “He asked where I was going. I didn’t-”

“John’s gonna hate it.” Gale mumbles “He won’t want anyone to know.”

“Yeah, well, if he didn’t want people to know, maybe he shoulda woken you up. Shoulda called m-” Curt cuts himself off, presses sturdy boxer’s fingers to his mouth. “Fucking VA.” he curses again.

“Fucking VA.” Gale agrees. And it feels a little good.

-*~*-

When they arrive back at the house It’s Curt that leads them inside. Curt, who picks up the gun, carefully disassembles it and puts it safely in the lock-box to be gotten rid of later. Curt who makes them a simple dinner of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

They stand at the counter, eating silently. Gale feels wired and too awake, his sleep schedule beyond to fucked.

He’d have to call out of work tomorrow. Maybe take a short leave. How could he even pretend to be okay for the kids?

“This is- In here right?” Curt’s eyes are jumping around the dark room, searching searching.

Nobody tells you the shame that curls in one's belly when you have to show your best friend the bullet hole that nearly ruined all their lives.

Curt puts his hands on his hips, bread crumbs stuck to the corner of his mouth and brow furrowed. Neither of them say much for a long time. Curt surveying and Gale staring a little blankly and replaying the sound of the gunshot over and over in his head.

“Well,” Curt finally drawls, “That’s an easy fix. You got any spackle?” he turns and smiles at Gale, crooked and reassuring,

Gale thinks he’d like to tell someone about this part. The part where people show up for you.

#swiftywrites #buck x bucky #cleven #buck cleven #john egan #gale cleven #bucky egan #bitches have too many names #curt biddick #young vets au #suicide tw #mota

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inkibuni · 2 months ago

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This is inspired by that veil illustration by Kotteri yup that one! (Scene 14)

It’s not exactly like it but I didn’t want it to be.

So to add some lore I’d think Bess tricked Dulce into modeling for new seasonal chocolate. Well not really trick more like telling her she’d be holding the chocolate for pictures and then surprise the poor girl… because dulce struggles with that no word. (But Dulce would’ve been happy to model for her boss just very nervous)

😬 Just a heads up if my writing is boring and or trash my b🤭, not use to posting words lol. My drawings are so much easier to share. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Tw: few bits of stalking behavior. Other than that it’s ✨wholesome ✨

“Dulce?” Bess calls out from the storage room, to the already exhausted Dulce. Both are diligent about closing up the chocolate shop.

“Yeah boss!” Dulce pokes her head out to Bess hold a box with her usual smile.

“Tomorrow we have the photographer booked for 4 hours to take pictures of the new chocolates. Are still up for holding the chocolate for the pictures. I texted you the location!” Bess tilts her head for reassurance.

“Yes I remember, am I still getting paid for it!” Dulce laughs as she asks know her boss would probably pay her double for technically working on a day off.

“Of course, well I’m glad you are still up for it.” She turns and puts the box onto the shelf “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning?”

“Yes! I will see ya then!” Dulce turns and grabs her bag and jacket from the hook. Starts walking towards the door. As she heads on home she gets that odd feeling of being watched once again. She pulls her phone out. Phone at the ready.

She gets home safe and sound no signs of Chris so she takes a shower eats a quick leftover meal and heads to bed. That windows open once again. She shuts it and puts on a few alarms on her phone to remind her of her early wake up call. Hand modeling she never thought about doing such a thing but hey extra pay and new skill set not a bad outcome. Sleep slowly takes her.

Next morning.

Alarm blearing and a knock at the door wakes dulce up from deep sleep!

“Ehh, Bro your alarms been ringing for a while. You okay?” Chris talks through the door, Dulce rubs her eyes and soon she shoots up checking her phone!

“Thanks Chris!!! I’m uuuuup!!” Dulce Russia’s and puts on a quick dress with stockings and her jacket. Her boots are at the door. She runs to the bathroom brushes her teeth and slightly brushes her hair. “Bye dude! I gotta go, helping out Bess with some advertisement being done for a new chocolate. I’ll be back no later than 2 maybe 3” she grabs her keys from the bowl and rushes to the door “I’ll be late if I don’t get going!”

Chris chuckles, “you look like that bunny from that old cartoon movie where it’s late!” He shakes his head turning back to making his breakfast “be safe text me if you need anything dude!”

Dulce opens the door, yelling form the apartment corridor right before shutting the door “ you got it Byyyeeee!” Door shut she’s jogging to the location which isn’t to far from her house or the shop.

She walks in and Bess and three other people are in the room. There’s a table with a few props and chocolates.

“Morning Bess!” Dulce smiles while walking over to her boss. “I hope I’m not late, almost missed my alarm. Thank you roommate!”

“Oh! As-salamu alaykum Dulce! You are here, so I have a teeny tiny question of course I want to do whatever you are comfortable with.” She smiles but it’s larger Dulce can feel her excitement. It’s almost contagious.

“Sure, whatever it is. Lays it on me Bess” Dulce drops her stuff next to a lone chair in what looks to be a small warehouse used as studio. She puts her hands on her hip waiting for instructions.

“Hmmm I know I asked you to hold the chocolates, but I was wondering if we could take a full picture of you? Like you eating them and we can dress you up! On theme of sorts?” Bess seems almost unsure and bashful trying to coax Dulce into modeling. “Of course if you are 100 percent uncomfortable with it we can do just you hands with gloves. But I just-” they take a slight pause.

“Bess. I don’t know?” Dulce isn’t a model not only is she unsure seeing she didn’t put any make up on and her hair is barely brushed.

“Hear me out? We have them for four hours, and I can dress you up, if you don’t like the pictures we can stick to the original plan.” Bess looks to Dulce she can almost since Bess trying to make a puppy dog face. A rarity in its own.

“Okay I- I don’t see why not-”Bess claps and grabs hold of her sitting Dulce down where there are a few pieces of jewelry and make up bags all placed on a table. Dulce looks at the makeup bags they seem familiar… green with flowers and leaves. Bess is beaming while they sits in front of her doing their make up. Dulce knows she could have said no but if she doesn’t like the way it looks she’ll opt out like Bess offered. She does have a hunch Bess planned this from the beginning. With eyes closed and relaxed face. “Bess you could have just asked from the start you know?”

Bess sighs and makes a quiet chuckle. I know but I just wasn’t sure if you’d say yes at all and I didn’t want to scare you. Other wise I’d be holding the chocolates.” She delicately swipes mascara onto Dulces eyelashes. “ Besides I did take a few holding them already.” Then moves onto adding some lipstick onto Dulces lips. ”I genuinely find you breathtaking, and that face can definitely sell out our new cherry ribbon chocolates.” She giggles “alright then let me brush and style your hair next and then we can get started!”

“Sure thing boss.” Dulce shake her head “you would definitely sell out chocolates too you know?” Turning to her boss, Bess shrugs

“Maybe next time!” They both laugh, but doesn’t take long for Bess to be done with Dulce’s hair opting to letting it down and choosing to use big bold earrings that match the color of the box and make up. Pink was never Dulces favorite didn’t really find the color flattering. But Bess seemed to be very proud of her work. So Dulce was content.

The photography crew guides dulce to a backdrop. They lead you into a few pose, and nothing really seems to getting THE shot.

Bess seems worried coming up to you during a quick break. “Sugar, listen if you don’t want to keep going we can just take pictures of the chocolates and you can go home… I am so sorr-”

“No no no, none of that.” Dulces phone vibrates she sees that Blaire had asked what she were up to. Quickly texting back where she is and what she was doing. Figuring since the beach wasn’t too far maybe they could meet up with her later once this photoshoot was done. “There’s just a matter of the right pose. We still have two hours. As well as plenty of chocolates in boxes shots.” Setting her phone down she graves Bess’s hands “I haven’t let you down and I won’t start today!”

“Okay, you’re right. Thank you sugar.”

After 30 minutes still taking photos three people roll into the warehouse Dulce recognizes their faces as her new trio of friends. Bess notices too walks over to them.

Dulce worried about inviting them not thinking they be here so early. “Sorry could we take five?” She asks the photographer

“Sure thing I want to change the backdrop so it works for me” Dulce jogs to the small group of people, she notes that no one seems to be upset.

“Hey Sugar cube! Blaire insisted that we drop by.” Ezra winks Sammy stands next to him nose in a book and grins in agreement. “ I hope we’re not interrupting”

“No we’re needing another break if anything Dulces been a wonderful model, just haven’t gotten the right angle of the chocolates.” She looks to Dulce “I’m going to check on the photographer take your break” she walks away

“Have you tried eating it?” Blaire looks at the staged area a hand on her hip the other on her chin. “Take a bite out it, make the consumer want what you’re having!” She looks to Dulce her brows pop up and down suggestively.

“I’ll try it wasn’t sure if it was okay to do didn’t want to mess up the make up.” She shrugs “never really modeled before. Anyway you guys hang tight we should be done in an hour.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard I very sure all those pictures came out beautiful.” Ezra whispers into you ear. “Might even be jealous over the chocolate.” Dulce giggles

She shakes her head the jiggle of jewelry clanking together. She’s most definitely blushing. “Bess I think I’ve got the shot!”

Dulce takes a bite of the cherry filled chocolate. It drips slightly and she holds the bitten piece of chocolate up in front of her face, the filling rolls across her silk gloves. Hitting the camera with just enough of a sultry, gaze.

Flashes and clicks and Dulce poses in similar ways but that first shot was the ticket.

The photographer is animated over getting the right shot.

Bess walks up to you, “thank you again Dulce, I will send you all the pictures of you and let you see the final product when edits are done too. You were amazing!” They holds Dulces hands in one patting them with the other in appreciation

Ezra walks over to Dulce and leans down into her snarking an arm through her waist. “Might need a few of those myself!”

Blaire and Sammy walk up both in agreement

“Let get my things guys. And Bess, I’m doing your makeup next time.”

She giggles as she waves and walks away “we’ll see!” She heads to the crew who are packing up and reviewing the photos.

Few weeks later.

Ezra walks past a few shops on his way home, he see her face. He’s in awe how beautiful it came out. Theyactually might be jealous of that chocolate. He hates how close Sugars boss is. But can’t be helped. A part of him doesn’t want anyone to look at her but another is happy to admire. He may just stop by her window, she isn’t home but maybe those gloves are around there somewhere.

@restartheartvn @queenlilithprime

I have a few doodles I want to post of Dulce but I’ll need to wait til steam release. Idk if they’re spoilery seeing its inspired by content from Patreon so rather be safe than sorry.

Excited for it though can’t wait to throw my support and money at it! Love the game and characters (except Kenneth 🤮) very much.

Wishing lily all the love and happiness because she deserves it so much.💕

Oh…

And to all the impatient bitches shut the fuck up! You’re not wanted in these parts. 🤠

#oc artwork #restart heart #restart heart fan art #restartheartvn #sugaroc

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fynnthefeline · 3 months ago

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Hey there, fabulous fur-friends! 🐾

Today was a whole new level of yum! My human brought out this little pouch with some kind of…creamy treat.😻(Thanks, human! Apparently, it’s called “creamy treat,” which is just fancy talk for delicious). I’m perched on the kitchen table, and I can already smell that this is going to be amazing. So naturally, I wrap my little paw around her hand, making sure she knows I’m all-in for this snack session. 💕

As I lick my way through the pouch, I’m giving it my all! Then, just when I think there might be more, I check… nope, all gone. But I can’t leave it at that, right? Cue the camera grab and extra licks, making absolutely sure there’s not a single tasty bit left. Even threw in my most irresistible faces just to double-check—though, turns out, it’s empty for real this time. Guess a cat’s gotta dream! 😹

Catch ya soon, and keep those snack hopes high! 😻

Fynn 🐾 #FynnsTales

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skeletboi · 3 months ago

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Part 16 of the Intridimensional au!

First /// Previous /// Next

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Fiddleford, what the hell is that thing?” Stan asked, motioning to the memory gun.

“I- this? It's… nothing. Don't worry ‘bout it Stanley.” Fiddleford responded.

Stan took a cautious step forward, feeling a bit like he was approaching a hurt puppy more than a human being.

“It sure as hell doesn't look like nothing.” he said trying to get a better look at the gun.

“Really, Stan doncha worry ‘bout it. It's jus’ an invention I done whipped up to help me deal with some them spookems Ford an’ I are always runnin’ into.”

“Deal with? That can't be a good thing. If it's not a big deal, then just tell me what it does.”

“Well… well it jus' erases some bad mem'ries is all.” Fiddleford said, looking away and attempting to hide the gun behind his back.

“It does what?!” Stan asked, taking a step forward and reaching for the gun. “Fidds there is no way that's safe!”

“It's fine, Stanley, doncha try an’ take this from me! Ya don’ know what I've seen in this town! I love yer brother, but he's messin’ with somethin’ serious. I don’ know where he's gettin’ all these ideas from- but it's dangerous. I- I can't-” Fiddleford practically yelled, backing away.

“I've seen shit, too, and I've been there- but this sure as hell isn't the way, Fidds. Give me the gun.” Stan said back, trying his best to be gentle, but tripping over his own peg leg as he took another step closer and sending them both to the ground.

“No. I need it, Stanley, ya don’ understand!” Fiddleford yelled, pushing Stan off of him and scrambling to his feet.

Stan tried to get up, but stopped as Fiddleford aimed the gun at him.

“Fidds.” He said carefully. “You don't want to do this.”

“I'm sorry, Stan. I don’ want to, but I need this.” Fiddeford said, his hand trembling, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry, too.” Stan said, pushing the gun away with one hand and grabbing a book from the floor with the other.

He leaned up on his good leg and hit Fiddleford across the face with the book as the gun skidded across the floor. Fiddleford collapsed onto the ground and Stan grimaced.

“I really am sorry, Fidds.” Stan said, struggling to his feet.

He grabbed a pillow from the bed and put it under Fidd's head, checking to make sure there was no blood from the hit, and turned him so he was laying on his side. He looked to the gun on the floor and frowned, his sadness turning to anger as he thought of Ford's careless dismissal of Fiddleford's anxiety.

He grabbed the gun as he left the room, grief warring with anger as he carefully made his way through the cluttered hall. He knew Ford had walked this way to go back to his lab, but Stan had no idea where this lab was.

He glanced down at the gun in his hand, then paused when he got a glimpse at the floor below him. There were muddy shoe prints leading down the hall. He slid the gun into his inner coat pocket and followed the trail around the corner until it dead ended at a bookshelf.

“You have gotta be shittin’ me, Sixer.” Stan mumbled.

He ran a finger over the bookshelf, glancing over the dry titles until he came across one he recognized.

“The Siblings Brothers. That's a bit obvious.” He said as he pulled the book from the shelf.

The shelf clicked and creaked. Stan opened it, and probably would have been impressed by the elevator hidden behind it if he wasn't too busy being angry. He looked to the keypad next to the door and nearly laughed. It was just like the one on the old vending machine down by the dock when they were growing up. He didn't even have to think about it, he input the code for jelly beans and toffee peanuts, and the elevator door dinged open.

The elevator automatically opened on the third floor and Stan stepped out, following the hallway down until it opened into a vast room that had to be at least double the size of the house itself.

“Holy shit.” he said aloud.

“Fiddleford! I need you to check the pressure gaug-” Ford started, but stopped when he got a look at Stan.

“You should work on your security, Sixer.” Stan said.

“Stanley! What the hell are you doing down here?! And where is Fiddleford?!” Ford asked.

“I'm here to talk to you about this.” Stan said, taking the memory gun from his inner coat pocket and holding it up for Ford to see.

Ford's eyes widened in recognition, and, to Stan's surprise, horror.

“Where did you get that?!” Ford asked, his voice laced with fear.

“You do know about it! And you just let him use it on himself?! I was under the impression that you cared about him, Ford!” Stan yelled, his anger returning in full force.

“No, Stan, I- He told me he destroyed it! I never would have let it go on if I had known!” Ford yelled back, sounding more panicked than angry.

“You knew he was anxious, Ford! Did you think he just magically got over his anxiety?!” Stan yelled.

“No, no- I- well, I don't quite recall…” Ford said, looking down at his feet.

“You don't fucking-” Stan paused, the realization dawning as he looked at his brother's frowning face.

“I'm sorry, Stanford…” Stan heard from behind him.

Stan and Ford both turned at the voice and saw Fiddleford standing at the end of the hall, a hand to his head.

“Fiddleford, what did you do?” Ford asked, the panic in his voice turning to anger.

“I didn't have ‘nother choice, Stanford. You wouldn't listen to me! I still don't understand where you're gettin’ all these ideas! I couldn't get rid of the gun- I- I needed it.” Fiddleford said, his voice rising in panic with each word.

“So you used that machine on me?! All I have is my brain, Fiddleford! How dare you use that on me!” Ford yelled back.

“I know, Ford. I'm sorry. I jus’- well I jus’...” Fiddleford stuttered.

“You just what?! Wanted to ruin this for me?! Everything I've worked for! Who cares where the idea came from?!”

“I care, Ford! I know you're smart- I've always known that! But this is somethin’ else!”

“This again?! Why can't you just listen to me! This is my life's work, Fiddleford! This is the final step in proving myself! Don't you get that?!"

“You have everythin' ya need ta prove yerself in those journals a' yers!” Fiddleford yelled back, tears running down his cheeks. “You're so obsessed with proving yerself that you don' even see how dangerous this damn portal is!”

Stan looked from Fiddleford to Ford and frowned.

“Wait, did you say portal?! What the fuck does that mean?!” he asked.

“Nothing, Stanley! Just stay out of this!” Ford yelled.

“Nothing?! This is obviously something! Goddammit, you two are mad scientists, aren't you?! Why didn't I see that sooner?!” Stan yelled back.

“Hey now, that ain't nice a ya, Stanley!” Fiddleford said. “We ain't crazy! We jus’ get a bit caught up in our projects!”

“You tried to erase my mind with that crazy gun of yours ten minutes ago!” Stan responded, nonplussed.

“Yeah, well- you hit me with a book!”

“Of course I did! You were-” Stan started, but stopped when Ford started to laugh.

“Well, well, well.” Ford said, his voice echoing oddly in the large room.

____________

I did not have time to proofread. My bad.

*edit: I went back and half proofread. It needed some help frfr.

Also sorry about leaving y'all on a cliffhanger, then not posting for another day. Have another cliffhanger, as an apology.

#Intridimensional au #gravityfalls #gravity falls au #skeletboi tag #gravity falls #stanford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddauthor #ford pines #stanley pines #bill cipher #skeletboitag

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fountainpenguin · 6 months ago

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Riddle watches New Wish - Post #14

Lost and Founder's Day

I do really like how the theme song flows, especially at the end where Cosmo and Wanda jump from their human disguises into fairy form.

Ooh, Founder's Day came back from "A New Dev-elopment." Continuity! I like how the title card shows us the hat that Dev and Hazel saw during their treasure hunt.

I'm gonna throw my money down on the Dimmadomes founding Dimmadelphia (or an ancestor).

skdfj, Hazel's so cute when she steals her teacher's hat.

-> Yes, it was the Dimmadomes.

I like how Dev's shades are still gone, but he's still got that smug tone of voice. But today, he has a good reason to be a bit smug for a festival his family is hosting (that his dad had to work over the weekend to pull together). This is gonna be interesting.

I don't trust any of this tech to be good (in the moral sense). Dale literally tried to promote pollution a few episodes ago.

LKSDJFSD, Dev giving out watches that do a bunch of cool technical things and this is the face he makes when he's asked if the watches tell time:

(They do not).

This is the first time Hazel's shown interest in anything related to Dimmadomes' tech (She has a phone case covering any logo and didn't know how to do the dance they apparently made) and now she's gushing over the gift Dev gave her so I'm... hm. Where ya going with this, Hazel?

Okay, so... what the HECK is going on with Dimmadelphia? I'm sure we'll get to learn the real founder soon, but all I can assume right now is that it was Doug himself, hence the hat logo. If that's true, he was BUSY during the 50 years of frozen time.

-> That WOULD justify my Buxaplenty overlap seeing as the train lines would've been crucial for this.

It's gotta be a different ancestor. There's no way Doug would be in Dimmsdale if he'd founded another city. This city's huge. I'll be watching for any indications of "established X year."

Aww, Hazel adores Dev now and is blatantly gushing over him. That's really cute. Local #1 Dev fan:

[cnt'd under the cut - #long post]

I can't believe we didn't get a "Hazel has a bone in her hair" gag when she got shocked by the tech.

omfg, Dev is so desperate to interact with his dad that he's begging to "organize merchandise by tossing boxes back and forth to each other." He's smart. Goober.

Diagnosed child who would play Catch with active TNT minecarts in Limited Life SMP. He would just do it...

Dale, you shouldn't tell your son to "Eat a lizard." That's mean.

Oh noooo, are we about to get "My dreams were crushed many years ago... How old are you?" version 2.0?

-> Note to self, Dev's birthday is 9 years, 7 months, and 14 days before Founder's Day (give or take since he says "pretty much exactly my birthday to the day, which I think implies he's doing math and decides it's the day).

Dev is 9? Lol. Didn't we already have end of the year tests in like, Episode 2? And our implied end of school year dance? Baby.

-> I double-checked and Sadie Hawkins is in November. There were Sneezy Hawkins Dance posters in Episode 1 when Hazel walked in. Those posters hung in school for multiple episodes (I'll keep my eyes out for them in future episodes), which would imply she started school in September or October (Probably not August since she was specially introduced to the class as a new student).

-> If we keep seeing the posters throughout the whole year, I'm willing to wave them off, but while planning the timeline, it's worth noting they exist, we know we're post-2019, but probably not too many years later since that was the most recent date on the gym's championship banner for a school that clearly wins sports games often ("Fearless"), and we've seen multiple waning crescent moons.

-> No snow, but not unreasonable since Dimmsdale was in California.

... I gotta say, I'm really enjoying these recent episodes, but D: Where was this early in the series when I was confused in Post #10 as to where all the underlying trauma vibes were?

We've absolutely shifted vibes from where we were when I wrote that post. Which is fantastic, but I'm surprised we didn't get this earlier. THIS is FOP vibes. THIS is what I wanted and why I was super confused by this show's tone earlier. Yeah, of course I like Dev now... He's shifting the tone back to the OG show's vibes.

I'm wary, but I've approached to eat out of the hand.

Oh no, we scene shifted before Dale could reveal the statue under the cloth. Either he's broken and we're going to see the aftereffects (following Hazel's POV where she's confused as to why he's gone off the rails and turned snappy) or he's gonna find out during the event and he'll break down in front of the crowd. Uh-oh...

...... Okay, now they're just taunting me with the moon. It can't always be a waning crescent!!

The stage looks like Doug Dimmadome.

Please tell me Dale didn't forget to add Dev's info to the ID-scanning robot.

Every time Angela is onscreen she has a new therapy book and I support her.

Wanda: Parenting never gets easier.

-> Please tell me Hazel's parents are about to ask about that and they're going to have to either backpedal or they're going to imply they've raised like 100 kids.

sdlkfj, they only cite Poof. BRUTAL.

-> Cosmo one again giving me "First fairy baby born in 1000 years." Yeah yeah, Westley Periwinkle held the title first, we all know him (/fanfic joke).

Seriously though, it's very funny to me that Poof is never, ever referred to as "first baby born after Cosmo" or "first baby born in tens of thousands of years, or hundreds of thousands." Only first in hundreds OR first in thousands. I can't believe that DANG KID is still haunting me in the new show.

-> Cosmo still confirmed to have been the pregnant parent. I'm glad that wasn't retconned (despite Cosmo's best efforts to scramble and cover up what he said by claiming Wanda was the pregnant one).

Cracking up. Cosmo, I think the neighbors think you're trans but not out about it.

Angela: Where's your son now? :) Wanda: Eh, we don't know. I mean, we forget because we were on vacation for 10k years.

Wanda, WHAT did I say in Post 11 about how you cannot leave that clingy child alone immediately after tearing him away from Timmy?? If Poof shows up and he has abandonment issues and/or clingy vibes, I'm gonna shake you both so hard.

-> Why is Marcus not calling them out for being paranormal creatures? ... That's kind of funny since Crocker would've lost his mind.

I like how Cosmo and Wanda turned their wands into lollipops for the carnival. That's cute.

Uh-oh, the statue's not been revealed yet. I hope Dev isn't onstage when this happens. (I want him to be onstage and suffer).

-> I should note that "Stanky Danky" and "Lost and Founder" are the episodes Dale lists the companies he's in charge of, and I'm pretty sure they're different. I want to make a coherent list throughout the series.

Marcus is reading his wife's book at the party, aww. They're so cute.

OH MY GOSH, their ancestor IS surnamed Dimm! I am once again thinking this implies Dale Dimm from "Which Witch Is Which?" - who founded Dimmsdale - is probably also in this family tree.

Wanda's glowing wand is adorable. They're both cute.

So, Hazel has been here long enough she agrees she hasn't "just" moved here anymore, so I'll allow the waning crescents.

Doug Dimmadome struck gold in 1953? I'll be making a note of that. I know that's after both Dimmsdale and Dimmsdale Flats were founded. This doesn't do much for me right now, but it's good to note.

-> This implies he was a teen or adult in 1953, so he's definitely not close to the age of Timmy's parents, who were 10 in the '70s. This checks out; he's got the white hair.

-> Let's say this is 2020 for the purpose of "We know we're after 2019." (2020 - 1953) is 67, and the youngest I'd be okay letting him strike gold is 10, since 10-year-olds do a lot in this show. So, he's at minimum 77 years old during this show, and could very easily be 87 or more years older (87 if he struck gold at 20), if I'm doing my math right.

And again, that's off the assumption it's 2020, which is a little earlier than I'd been brainstorming. I'm okay with this since he had white hair in the OG series, but I'm gonna have to plot out a timeline for Dale's age at some point.

Dale: /evil monologues about his plan to monitor kids' heartrates to figure out exactly what a child want. Me: Dale, have you tried... talking to a kid? Maybe YOUR kid? Standing behind you? Dev, clearly uneasy: Dad, that's so great! You get to help kids right away!! Dale: ... Help kids?

^ Me

Wait, so the drones can waste products and not get yelled at? Dale, maybe you should focus your attention in that area of your business- I think you're losing product.

Why do the drones sound so sad? They're talking like all their friends just ditched them. They're so cute.

I love how he's still wearing the big boots:

Oh no, Dev's on stage and Dale's talking about how the statue "isn't just him" under the tarp and "he can remember when this bundle of joy arrived." Yeah, Dev's about to shatter.

Okay, Wanda's clearly startled that the statue doesn't depict Dev and even Cosmo's starting to sense that something's going on in that family. You two are going to report this, right?

Aww, Cosmo misses his son.

The contrast of Dev crashing and burning while Hazel is enjoying her new hat is very funny to me. Like, we get this sequence of how happy she is and you just know Dev's having the worst day.

Dev: It's Hazel! Of course... Her well-known love of hats! /said not long after Wanda was like "Hazel, I've literally never seen you wear a hat before yesterday, what do you mean you like hats?

That's actually very funny. And cute? When did Hazel and Dev talk about liking hats? Logically, that must've been while they were montaging on the treasure hunt and posing next to those hat-shaped objects for photos.

With Dev talking about the Dimmadomes running a family business, I'd really like to see what Dev's relationship with his grandfather is. Doug was also careless about destroying childhood memories and I don't trust him to be a good dad either, but I'm curious.

-> I actually have no proof Doug Dimmadome is still alive. I wonder if he's out of the picture and if that had a negative effect on Dale, which may be why he's throwing everything into the business right now, and why he loves his boots.

-> I should check if those boots are similar to his dad's. Like, what if he saw his dad die on the day Dev was born and the boots were left to him, so that's why the boots are so important to him that he dedicated a statue to them?

POV, the dad who (presumably) pampered you for life after you'd spent 7 years of torment underground - and you don't seem to have a mother in your life so this is your only parent and only known connection to a world that isn't full of suffering - is dying on the same day your wife is in labor. What do you do?

Aww, Hazel knows Dev well enough to sense that something's up and ask if he's okay, implying they seem to have grown closer from "A New Dev-elopment" when she saw his father scoff at him and opted to change the subject instead of asking about his feelings. They seem to be doing well as friends and I like that.

-> All these crescent moons make me wonder how long it's been since that episode, though since Dale was working on the Founder's Day event on the weekend, I assume we're still in that range of time.

Dev, holding his arm when Hazel asks if he's okay: I... don't have time to get into it.

They're so cute. I love them.

-> I love the focus on Dev right now, but I hope we don't go full steam ahead into Hazel's friendship with him and she sidelines Jasmine and Winn for her new buddy and/or potential crush.

She hasn't seen her friends this whole carnival, which surprises me. Don't do it, Hazel.

What, where did Dev get those shades. He didn't have those .4 seconds ago.

Dev's going to complete his task and give Hazel's hat back to his dad and still get rejected.

OH NO, Dev is trying to lure the scanner drones away from Hazel, but he didn't tell her that so she thinks he just called her a name, mugged her, and ran off. That's hilarious. #You tried.

Dev, you have to talk to people. You can't just assume she knows what's going on. Fool.

I like how Dale also has special eyewear (VR glasses).

I like how Cosmo inexplicably thinks all the Dimmadomes have "Pickle" as a middle name. I think he said that to Dev in an earlier episode, right?

I like how Hazel saved the day by "doing what Cosmo would do" and pressing all the buttons randomly. That's hilarious.

Barry the dinosaur was at the carnival... That's great.

HAZEL'S MAD!!

As she deserves to be- that's the second time Dev regressed to calling her names. She thought they went through this, but now she's like "He's not changing and also I literally just caught his dad in an evil plot of shocking children's brains with electricity. And Dev seems to have been helping."

Yeah... This is gonna go great. Also, his cute little poses:

Oh thank goodness... We are SO BACK, baby! The fluffy episodes were fine, but NOW we're gettin' somewhere!! Time to break some hearts.

"I would hug you, but I do not have human arms or warmth." I love them.

Aww, he likes her so much. Best buddies...

I didn't know this was his phone, I thought it was a retro video game console.

Oh, it's an iPad parallel. It's got a stand and that's why it's big.

I like how my extremely specific "Ed Leadly as Dev's other grandpa" situation just keeps getting worse the more I think about it.

Little Dev: Grandpa Leadly, I learned to write my name! :) Leadly sitting among his pencils as Dev hands him a tablet he typed on instead of pencil and paper: Buddy, rising star, apple of my eye, my little angel... I will pay you 17 million dollars to never do this in front of me again.

Dad who likes flashy and long-lasting things to remind himself how far he's come vs. grandpa who's willing to massively overpay for anything he took interest in for 5 seconds; what arguments will they endure?

OHHH BOY, it's fairy assignment time! LET'S FREAKIN' GO!

It's Poof!! That is not the voice I expected out of him, but maybe I should've because he did love deep voices back in "Certifiable Super Sitter." I accept it.

Aw, he's so ready to play! This makes me so happy... That's exactly what a fairy godparent is here for- Finding miserable kids and turning that around so they get happier memories of their childhoods. That's exciting!

-> Oh, NOW I see why you guys were all messaging me about my "Poof adores his hero Westley Periwinkle and likes naming things after him" lore, sdkjfl. Ahahaha... I'm in danger.

-> "Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Pixies" Poof-Westley interactions looming on the horizon

Interesting choice to change his name? I wonder if that was done for stylistic reasons like the script. I seem to remember the OG show's scripts would say POOF in them for special effects, and I can see how that would be confusing.

Is... is this because he's trying to lie low so he can dodge the attention he was always getting as a celebrity kid? That feels right, seeing as if it was a true deadname to him, he probably wouldn't have introduced himself as Poof before saying "I changed it to Peri, like Periwinkle."

Either that or he's unclear if Dev's heard anything about him from Cosmo, Wanda, or Hazel and he wanted to clarify who he is, though that doesn't seem likely.

Huh. I'm kinda surprised Poof showed up. I know in the past, he was a controversial addition to the show and I half-expected him to be swept under the rug, though I did wonder about it when Cosmo and Wanda were talking about him earlier.

I've always loved him though and I'm excited to have him back. Return of my other OTHER son.

I'm really excited to hear him talk since his talking was limited to "School of Crock" (only at the end), "Fairly Odd Fairy Tales" (which he mostly slept through), and "Certifiable Super Sitter" (which is... unique). I've had to make up his entire personality for 'fics based on what limited understanding we had of his interests. I look forward to learning more about this version of him!

My established version of him in 'fics will take priority over new information. I'm currently still on the line of "Do I want to ignore New Wish in my canon or try to incorporate what I can?"

That said, I'm leaning a little towards incorporating, since I think I can work with most of it so far, especially if we're throwing in "Fairywinkle-Cosma family aren't strangers to time travel right now."

-> I'm not committing by any means, so don't hold me to that, and even if I do, it'll be cherry-picky.

-> One of my canons for Cloudlands AU Poof is that he's a fanfic writer, mainly for a series called Ninja Cowboy (which he chronically leaves unfinished, to Foop's distress since as Poof's opposite, he's addicted to finding out their endings). He also writes Anti-Cosmo x H.P. fanfics because it's the only thing that makes them back off when they show up to bother him.

Point being, I hope he gets to engage in Prime Meridian with Dev. I feel like they'd enjoy writing 'fics together and it would be funny to me :)

-> I'm wheezing on the floor. Poof's early concept name was Dusty. Even though the writers wouldn't have reason to know that was his concept name, it's funny to me that his name was changed to something that's also not that. The man of as many names as voices he can mimic...

That works really well for me since I named his younger brother Dusty, so that would've caused me problems.

I also gave Poof a mullet / ponytail in my teen design, so that makes me laugh. Lemme see if I have his ref sheet...

I do! Plus a bunch more from my files:

Looks like I gave him a tuft kinda close to his extra hair strand! That's fun. I wonder if New Wish Poof also likes sports. Hmm...

I'm gonna have to look up what era suspenders were popular. I specifically designed my teen/adult Poof with a late 60s / early 70s vibe since Cosmo was said to have been designed for the 50s, which is the time period parallel I was treating Fairy World in during that era too (hence Poof's blog tag being #purple hippie dragonfly, which I'm not planning to change because it's for me).

Exciting! I like Poof's staff. I've seen people do adulthood designs for Foop with a staff, but Poof's a new one. That's fun.

Alas, no freckles... but that's not gonna change in his Cloudlands AU design. We are "biological queen bee" all the way here.

Hmm. Foop has freckles, but... we'll see if he ever shows up in this series. I do not expect the artists to remember his freckles since they only showed up when he puffed his cheeks or flushed, but... if Foop shows up without his mustache and goatee, I'mma have questions.

Actually, this is perfectly fine because I always draw gyne fairies with pale freckles unless they're at their peak, and I already set Finley up as more dominant than Poof at school (with Finley suppressing his pheromones so Poof's "locked down" anyway). It looks like they're pretty faint in his ref sheet too. I'm satisfied with this.

No promises I'll work the Peri arc into my canon. I think I have room for it to exist and I don't think I've seen anything in New Wish that directly conflicts with Cloudlands AU in a way I can't work around, but I'm not likely to write 'fics for New Wish right now.

-> I'm not opposed to incorporating New Wish prompts into the 130 Prompts series IF I find any old drafts I end up not liking, but I did a deep clean in early 2023 and got rid of ones I didn't like, so I'm not sure.

I did sketch Hazel for a potential arc cover though, so I can use that if I have reason to.

So far, as long as I can find a satisfying way for Poof to age, I think I can swing New Wish around to fit with Cloudlands AU... unless we get something super specific like Poof-Peri already graduating high school or Cosmo and Wanda confirming they won't have godkids after Hazel, in which case I'll have to ignore that.

I can even work things around if Peri's not with Goldie, because their whole thing in Cloudlands AU is celebrity drama and dating life struggles anyway (iirc, Foop even told readers that Poof and Goldie keep splitting up and getting back together).

-> I've always suspected Poof would get special advance godkid permissions seeing as, y'know... Jorgen literally made him trial test Crocker's Mom as his "godperson assignment" in "Fairly Old Parent," plus Poof was getting on-the-job training his whole life. It's neat to see him!

I hope Poof's better at not burning himself out now. He looks like he's doing okay. He's grown out of his shell!

-> According to my timeline, Erg was Cosmo and Wanda's trial kid while they were still in high school, so it would totally work for me if Dev is Poof's high school assignment.

I'm not expecting that to be stated, but I can work with it.

Thanks for joining me in this liveblog! Looking forward to more episodes :)

#Riddle watches FOP #New Wish spoilers #Pending Dev tag #Pending Hazel tag #Dragonfly parents #FAIRIES!#Lost and Founder #Long post #screenshots #Ed Leadly #Purple hippie dragonfly #Nerdy blue bat son

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preggopushes · 2 months ago

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Free Agent [MPREG]

WARNING: NSFW, there will be all sorts of weirdness including gay sex, rough sex, domination, male pregnancy, MPREG, and males giving birth

**Originally posted on DeviantArt, but I thought some people on Tumblr might enjoy it also**

PART 1

As you sit eating your big breakfast, you focus your attention on the television in the kitchen. An annoying car commercial ends and the familiar Sports Center jingle plays. “Do-do-doot, do-do-doot.”

An overcaffeinated big man in a plaid sportscoat appears on the screen, “Chris Berman here to run down the NFL power rankings for this upcoming season...”

After waiting tensely for 20 minutes, you finally hear what you’ve been waiting for. “And at number five, we have the Carolina Panthers. Second-year quarterback Sam Jackson…”

The sound of your name brings a smile to your face. It’s been your dream to play professional football since you were 4 years old, and your childhood dream has become a reality. You still can’t believe they’re paying you to do this job, starting quarterback for an NFL team, the Carolina Panthers.

“…brought this team to unexpected heights as a rookie after taking over for injured veteran Q.B. Andy Dahlberg during week six last season. And in case you didn’t hear the breaking news this morning, he has a big new target this year in Tight End Mac Davison. Mac was acquired by the Panthers in a blockbuster free agent signing this morning. We’ll be expecting great things from this dynamic duo this year …”

Your eyes pop. You hadn’t heard the news yet. You literally jump and pump your fists with excitement. Mac is the best tight end in the league. Throwing to him will be legendary.

The sound of your phone’s ringer interrupts your celebration. It’s an unknown number, but you take a chance and answer. The voice on the other end is unfamiliar, “Hey QB1. My brotha, I guess you know by now, huh?”

“Mac?” you query.

His words are quick, “of course! We gonna have a great year, but it starts now. I hear you’re in the mountains relaxing?”

“Um, ya. I’m near Park City staying at a friend’s unused vacation house for the offseason. Beautiful out here. It’s a great spot to work out.”

“Ya, ok. I’ll be there in a few hours. We gotta get acquainted, no time to waste QB1.”

The call suddenly ends.

You’re used to dealing with professional athletes and the extreme eccentricity they bring to life, but Mac’s call was enigmatic, even for a professional athlete.

Three hours later the doorbell chimes loudly. You stride to the door and open it wide for the big man on the other side. You checked out Mac’s stats earlier. The sheet said he’s 6 feet 6 inches and 265 pounds, but he looks even bigger in person. The sheet also said he runs a blisteringly fast 4.52 second forty-yard dash and has a 42.5 inch vertical leap.

He gives a big grin and pulls you into a big hug. At 6 feet 2 inches and 205 pounds, you’re certainly not a shrimp, but Mac’s massiveness makes you feel small.

“I’m excited man! Excited to team up with you!” he announces loudly while stepping back and tossing a football into your hands.

“It’s going to be great, Mac! I’ve been looking up to you for a long time!” you say.

“Ya boy, it all starts today. I just need to know…are you ready to give it your all? To sacrifice? To do ANYTHING necessary for a ring?” his face is very serious as he asks this.

“Of course!” you holler. You mean it. You’ll do anything to win. You already workout and study nonstop, but you’ll double down and work harder.

Mac throws a duffle bag onto the ground in the entryway. “Alright let’s get to it then. How about some drills?”

You shrug, “sure, let’s get to work,” and lead him out to the astroturf field in the backyard.

After some warmup calisthenics and sprints, you pull a bag of footballs over and say, “ready to run some routes?”

He’s quick to answer, “born ready, QB1!”

Suddenly you have a pang of butterflies in your stomach. You’ve had this feeling previously during big games. You’re about to throw to one of the greatest players in the NFL. The feeling of imposter syndrome overcomes you.

“Post route,” Mac calls out.

Your heart beats quickly as you grasp the pigskin in both hands and yell, “go!”

Mac sprints away as you preform your 5-step drop, then you launch the ball downfield with a swift motion. As the ball leaves your fingertips you realize that it’s a bad throw. You’re forced to watch in horror as the ball sails wide right.

As Mac jogs back you say, “hey, sorry, just some rust.”

He’s quick and upbeat, “no prob, let’s try that one again.”

You yell, “go!” and Mac sprints away again. You throw once more.

It’s a better throw, but still not good. What happens next is horrific to watch. Your pass comes down just out of Mac’s reach, but he lunges and dives for your errant pass. As he lands, you see his ankle flex awkwardly and he cries out in pain.

Your mind fixates on one thought: fuck, I just injured Mac Davison. My life, my career, is over.

You run down to Mac as he lays on the astroturf grabbing his lower leg.

The next minutes are a haze. Somehow you get him upright and assist him into the house and help him sit in a stuffed chair.

“Can you try massaging it?” he requests.

You kneel and gently pull his shoe off and do your best to mimic the movement that trainers have used on your sore body parts when you’ve been injured.

As you massage the ankle, you can’t help but notice a big bulge in his loose blue athletic shorts. You stare closer and realize that the dude has a massive, erect dong under his shorts.

“Do you like what you see QB1?” he says nonchalantly.

His question catches you off guard. You just chuckle, unsure how to reply.

“So, Sam, you wanta suck it or get fucked by it? Either way works for me,” he says.

You’re used to inappropriate bander in locker rooms, but the brazenness of Mac’s question pushes you farther off guard.

“Dude, uh…that’s funny,” is all you can say.

Mac continues, “man, if we’re going to develop chemistry, we have to.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you practically scream.

He shrugs, “all the great quarterbacks took dick from their primary targets, it’s common knowledge, man.”

You stutter, realizing that he’s serious, or maybe crazy. “Y-y-ya ,r-r-rright. N-next thing you’ll be telling me that Tom Burgandy was letting his receivers have his ass.”

Mac stares at you like you have two heads.

“Huh? You really don’t know? Of course, Tommy B. let his receivers rail him. I heard he was an amazing lay. He let Cronk cum inside him before every game and again at halftime. How else do you think they developed that legendary charisma together?”

You stare back at the huge man, like a deer in the headlights, realizing that his request is serious.

“You said you would do anything to win, right?” he asks.

You reply with hesitation, “I-I did say that didn’t I?”

Mac continues, “Alright bro, I guess we ain’t got a choice here. Pull down your pants, QB1.”

“Whoa, wait, what about your ankle?” you ask.

He chuckles, “oh ya, I’m fine. I flopped out there because I could tell we needed to get our chemistry fixed first.”

You feel like you’re about to have a panic attack as you choke out, “a-a-nd you think having sex with me is the answer?”

“Don’t worry, I think you’ll enjoy it.”

You just stare back at him.

“One time. Just try it Sam.”

What the fuck? Are you really about to let Mac put his dick inside you? If this is the price to win, though, it might be worth it.

You enter another haze, removing your clothes, walking into the bedroom, and bending over the bed.

“L-like this?” you ask, unsure exactly what to do.

He towers over you as he replies, “yep, just like that QB1. Don’t worry, I’m going to use lots of lube. I’ll treat you right.”

You peer backwards and see the massive, terrifying, erect cock inches from your bare ass as he wipes lube over himself. You close your eyes and attempt to visualize a Superbowl ring, trying to keep your ultimate goal in mind.

You feel a moment of warmth as his tip touches your butt. He grasps your hips with his hands, then it happens.

You’re overtaken by his raw power as he plunges into you. Your vision reduces to bright stars and you cry, “haaaaaaa!”

He powerfully pulls out and pumps again, making you cry aa second time, “haaaaaa!”

It happens again, but he goes even deeper. He’s so far inside you and it feels strange to be stuffed like this.

Just when you think he can’t go more, he hammers again, probing impossibly deep into you. “heeeeeeee!”

“Oh, QB1, you got a nice ass!” he soothes, “I feel so connected with you, man.”

He starts humping gently, sliding himself in and out. You can feel his full girth, grinding in-and-out of your body, exploring the depths of your insides. You can sense exactly where his tip is as he prods in-and-out of you, over and over.

You realize that women must feel the same sensations when they have sex. Then you realize that you’re moaning like a woman getting railed, “he, he hiiii, he, he hiii, he, he hii!” You try to stop, but you can’t help it.

Mac grunts and then asks, “doing ok QB1?”

Between moans you manage to say, “Huu, fuck your dick is huge. He, he, hiiii. Ya, I guess I’m ok, man. Hooo-oooo, Ohhhhh, Ohhhhh, Ohhhhh, Ohhhhh!”

He starts to accelerate his motions, making a slapping sound each time he humps into you.

You start to experiment, slightly rocking back into him each time he pushes. The motion is somehow natural, and you quickly find a tempo with him. You’re literally humping with him, taking an active role in the sex.

You inquire, “mmmm, are you going to cum soon, Mac?”

He responds, “I’m close. You ready for my load QB1?”

You realize that Mac, a man, is about to cum in your ass and you question how you ended up in this situation.

He humps faster and harder, filling you in a way that’s both very painful and bizarrely fulfilling. Your moans turn into deeper grunts as you work to accommodate the massive cock. “Uuuhhhhh! Uuuhhhhh! Uuuhhhhh!”

Then you hear Mac growl, “GRAAAAAA, HAAAAAAA, MAAAAAA!!!!” and you feel pulses of cum being deposited deep inside you.

You’re not sure if it’s disgusting or somehow weirdly pleasing, knowing that he literally just came inside you. Then, suddenly it’s over and he’s pulled out, leaving you feeling weirdly empty.

After pulling on your clothes, Mac says, “ready to try some more routes?”

You nod shyly and start to saunter outside. You can’t help but walk like a cowboy who just got off his horse. Mac really did a number on your ass. Sore is an understatement.

“Alright QB1, post route,” he requests once you’re outside.

You try to focus, but you keep having flashbacks to Mac jackhammering you.

“Ok, go!’ you finally muster.

He flies down the field and you launch the ball. Your heart leaps as you watch the perfect pass arc into his arms, hitting him perfectly in stride.

As he jogs back, he winks at you, “see? Told ya!”

You can’t believe it.

You yell, “GO!” again.

He flies down the field and you heave the ball again. This time, he suddenly breaks off his planned route and slams on the brakes.

You’re surprised that your pass hits him right in the chest. Somehow you knew he was going to change the route and you perfectly adjusted for the change.

The next hour of practice is the most fulfilling football of your life. You and Mac have a perfect connection on the field, like you’re reading each other’s minds.

You both head back to the house and spend some time in the weight room. Then you call one of the team’s assistant coaches on Zoom to work on some new plays for the upcoming year.

Finally, the doorbell rings and a driver hands you a gigantic bag of food. You and Mac devour the meal. When you’re both finished the dinner, you look at him and say, “hey, ummm…I’m sorry that I doubted you today. It’s been a super strange day but throwing to you this afternoon has been the highlight of my football career!”

“I feel you, QB1!” he says. “I’m loving it also. I’ve never been this connected with a quarterback. I can’t wait for the season to start.”

You fumble for your words, “Um, so, um, well…do you want to, um, you know, fuck me again tonight? It might help us get even more connected out there.”

He nods, “alright, if your ass is up for it, dude.”

Before you know it, you’ve assumed the position in the bedroom and Mac is about to stretch you with his huge schlong again. You feel a mixture of excitement and dread as you slide your legs wider for him. Then he fucks you like his bitch.

The next three months go by like this. You and Mac focus all your energy on football except when you bend over and let him pound your ass. At long last, the summer ends and it’s time to report to preseason training camp with the team.

You’re ecstatic to walk into the Panther’s facility on the first day with Mac. The whole building is buzzing with expectation for the upcoming season. The first few hours are filled with mundane administrative tasks, but it’s great to be together with all the teammates and coaches.

Before lunch, you and Mac find yourselves in line outside the team doctor’s office for a routine weigh-in. When the doc calls you, you jump onto the scale. You expect to see 205 on the screen, but the screen lights up with 214. The doctor looks at his clipboard with a furrowed brow. “Hmmm, Sam, you gained some weight, huh? And I see some abnormalities here on your blood workup.”

You’re a little annoyed. You worked your tail off for the past months. You should be in the best shape of your life, but you can’t ignore the feeling that you’ve gotten a little pudgy.

Mac clears his throat behind you. “Uh, hey doc, can we talk in your office?”

When the office door closes, you see that Mac has an alarmed look on his face. He nervously glances toward the doctor and says, “you need to give him a pregnancy test.”

The white-haired doctor looks at you and simply says, “well fuck, guess that would explain things.”

Your mind spins in circles as the doctor rummages through a cabinet. Why in the hell do you need to take a pregnancy test? What could it possibly reveal?

The doctor waves a small box in the air, “found one!” then he pulls a cup and strip from the box. “Go pee in the cup, ok Sam?”

With trembling hands, you step across the hall into the men’s room and urinate into the cup, then you drop the strip into the cup and bring it back to the doctor. Mac hovers over the doctor as the doc pulls the strip out of your urine to examine the result.

Mac looks over to you, “oh dude, I’m so sorry! We should have used condoms, I guess.” You feel frantic as you try to understand what’s happening, then you yell, “WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?”

They both ignore you as the doctor high fives Mac and says, “congrats, dad! How ‘bout a cigar later?”

Finally, the doctor addresses you, “alright Sam, sit down, I’ll explain.” You sit in a chair in the corner while your foot taps frantically.

The doc begins explaining in a gruff voice, “Sam, this is going to be hard to hear, but…well, you’re pregnant. You’ve got a baby in there.” He points to your slightly pudgy abdomen. “I’m assuming you’ve been having sex with Mac, right?

You just stare back, unable to speak, so he glances to Mac who nods and says matter-of-factly, “yep, daily.”

“So, you’re going to ask how this is possible, right? Well, honestly, we don’t know exactly why, but some men who are very fit, like yourself, are able to get pregnant from other men. It has something to do with elevated testosterone, so we see this more frequently in NFL players compared to the general population. It happens once or twice a year across the whole league.”

Then it hits you. How can you play football if you’re pregnant? Your dream season is over before it even started.

The doctor rummages through his desk, then pulls out a piece of official looking paper. “So, Sam…here’s the deal.” He waves the paper at you. “Position players are prohibited from playing when they’re pregnant because of risk to the baby. When it happens, we makeup an injury so they can take the year off. But, uh, this memo here from the league says that the next quarterback to get pregnant can play…if he wants.”

Mac asks, “It’s safe, right? Like, what if he gets sacked by a big D-lineman?”

The doctor continues, “they actually developed a special device. It’s like shoulder pads for a pregnant belly. The baby would be well protected.”

Mac claps, “alright then! Sam, let’s go-oooooo!”

The doc says one more thing, “I highly suggest you give it a shot, Sam. The device was well tested when Tom Burgandy was going through this a few years ago. Someone needs to be the first. Might as well be you, kid.”

PART 2

“Whoa, whoa, you’re telling me Tom Burgandy was pregnant?” you finally ask.

Mac and the doc stare at you like you have three heads.

Mac says, “of course man, he carried Cronk’s baby. Everyone knows. It’s like an open secret.”

The doc continues, “the league was going to let him be the first quarterback to play pregnant, but he backed out at the last minute.”

Mac jumps in, “ya, why do you think they both retired? And Jelissa divorced Tom when she found out about it. Tom loved Cronk more than her.”

You shake your head. Fuck, how did you never see this? Of course. It’s so clear now.

The news that you’re pregnant is alarming, bizarre, and somehow kinda cool at the same time. Knowing that your idol, Tom Burgandy, went through the same thing reassures you.

The next days are a whirlwind. You get fitted for the special tummy-protecting device, practice lots of football, and have an ultrasound appointment with your newly assigned OBGYN.

You also spend a lot of time with the Public Relations people for the Panthers and the NFL. Coming out as the first pregnant male football player requires a carefully honed rollout plan.

Your teammates are incredibly supportive of your unique situation. You were initially worried that you’d be ostracized, but the opposite is true. Your pregnant belly has become something like a mascot for the team. They even rub it for good luck before each practice.

Before the first game, your agent tells you that Tom Burgandy’s people reached out to coordinate a phone call between the two of you. You can’t believe that you’re getting a personal call from the best quarterback ever to play.

He starts, “hey Sam, I’m a big fan! Good luck out there this year. I think great things are in store for you, man. Some of my records might be in jeopardy, haha. And more importantly, congrats on your baby! Cronk and I are so excited for you and Mac. I would say that I’m jealous, but Cronk and I just found out that we’re expecting again, so I’m just a few months behind you. I can’t believe I’m already showing.”

For some reason, you can’t control your emotions and start sobbing tears of joy. Your OBGYN said to expect stronger emotions due to the hormonal changes, but you didn’t know that the news of Tom’s baby would be the trigger to set off your waterworks.

For a second, the phone is quiet, and you worry that he’s judging you for crying. But then you hear sobs coming from his side of the phone. Eventually, you both pull it together and he clears his throat.

“Oh man, nothing like a good cry!” He goes on, “man, I think what you’re doing is so brave, being the first pregnant player. I wish I had tried, but at my age we ultimately decided it wasn’t wise due to the increased risk factors. But Sam, you’re going to love the rest of your pregnancy, enjoy it! Oh, and a little advice…stay on top of your birth exercises. Labor is tougher than any football game…especially when your kid has a Tight End’s gigantic head…oof!” You thank him for the call and smile, content as a pregnant man.

The first regular season game is nearly perfect. Of course, you let Mac bend you over before the game. When your team is announced, you run through the tunnel before your teammates, then each of them runs out and embraces your pregnant belly. The crowd loves it.

Then you take the field and complete 23 of 28 passes as the Panthers handily defeat the Miami Dolphins. The next games proceed in the same way and the Panthers suddenly have five wins and zero losses. Most commentators consider the Panthers the best team in football.

By game seven the additional weight you’re carrying has become a tangible burden on the field. You’re now 226 pounds and you look like a marshmallow in your uniform with your jersey draped over your protruding belly and thick pads.

You used to be known for your scrambling abilities. You were fast and nimble on the field, able to make plays with your legs as well as your arm. Now, though, your coaches only draw up standard passing and handoff plays for you. It doesn’t matter though. Your connection with Mac enables you to make implausible throws that baffle defensive backs. And since the other team must place all their attention on Mac, they leave other receivers wide open. You’re off to a record-breaking start, leading the league in all major statistical categories.

Your biggest advantage, though, might be your offensive line. In your pregnant condition, they look at you like their knocked-up little sister. There’s nothing these big, strong, fat men wouldn’t sacrifice to protect you from the defenders. As a result, your gravid body has barely been touched by the opposing teams.

You’re humbled at how well the season is going, but you also love pregnancy. You’re beginning to feel flutters of the baby kicking in your womb, reminding you that there’s a life forming inside you. Your mid-term belly has caused some changes in your sex life also. Instead of bending you over doggystyle, Mac has started to fuck you in the missionary position. It’s splendid, being able to wrap your legs around him and look into your Tight End’s eyes as he enjoys your plump and curvaceous preggo body.

After the eighth game, Mac joins you in the team’s weight room on a quiet Tuesday afternoon after practice. “Hey man, ummm, I have something to ask you.”

You shrug, “ok,” while finishing a set of shoulder press.

He clears his throat. “So, the rest of the receivers and tight ends came to me yesterday. And they think they could play better if they were more, um, you know, connected with you.”

You realize where this conversation is going. “You mean they want to have sex with me also?”

He waves, then says sheepishly, “well, kinda. Ummm, they were actually thinking about, uh…a gangbang.”

“They want to fucking gangbang me? And you’re going to let them?” you shriek.

He shrugs again, “ya, I think you need to do it. It’ll help the team. We won last week, but we were a little rusty.”

You huff and roll your eyes, beginning to imagine what being the subject of a gangbang might be like.

Then you hear a noise outside in the hall. You stare closer at the crack in the door and realize the receivers are waiting outside, listening to your conversation. They look like a pack of hungry hyenas, stalking you like their next meal.

You turn back to Mac in fright. “Oh man,” you protest, shaking your head.

Mac says, “we’re going to use the trainer’s room. There’s a comfy table in there for you. Don’t worry, I told them they had to be careful. You’re pregnant with my baby girl after all.” He reaches out and strokes your belly.

“Right now?” you interrogate.

“Yep, they ain’t going to wait, man,” he replies solemnly.

Shortly, you’re lying on the padded trainer’s table completely nude. Mac gently places a small pillow under your head. Your pregnant male belly extends high into the air. You look around nervously at the 9 other men in the room. They’ve formed a circle around you and they’ve all pulled out their cocks. Each dick is erect and enormous, like Mac’s. You shudder at what’s about to happen.

Mac steps between your spread legs and says, “alright boys, listen up. You gotta be careful, but honestly QB1 can handle a lot and he likes it a little rough.” He slathers lube onto himself, then grabs your legs to position your body for penetration. He caresses his fingertips down your inner thighs and rubs circles all over your big baby tummy. You quiver in delight, knowing what comes next.

Then he breaches your opening with his bigness and your body stretches to accommodate him. His moves make you sigh in pleasure, “hoooo-ooooo!” Then he starts vigorously humping into you, getting even deeper on each push. Over the past months, he’s become an expert at bringing you pleasure and knows exactly where to press. You can’t contain your delight, “heeee, hyyyyy, ha-ha-ha-ha, heeee, hyyyyy, ha-ha-ha-ha.”

You’re totally ashamed to let the receivers see you like this, lying on the bed and submissively taking Mac’s dick like his bitch, but you accept that it’s worth it to help the team get closer to a Super Bowl ring.

Mac gives the onlookers more instructions, “see, just like this” as he models how they should hump you. He informs them, “and feel free to touch the belly, QB1 likes it.” He reaches out his big hands and fondles your jiggly belly. Then he says, “oh, and QB1 loves it when you angle up like this.” He jabs his cock upwards on the next hump, slamming into your g-spot. Your body jerks and you cry out in pleasure, “hiiiyyyyy, mmmm, MMMMM!”

Mac repeatedly thumps directly into your g-spot, making you squeal, “hee, hee, hee, hee!” Then he says, “hey Sam, um…Alec and DeAndre were hoping for oral. You ok with that, dude?”

Before you can respond, Alec, the team’s top wide-receiver, steps closer, puts his hands behind your head, and starts easing his massive cock towards your mouth.

You start to protest, but Alec moves quickly and begins stuffing his dick between your lips. You open wide, consenting to giving your teammate a blowjob. You’re overwhelmed with sensation, being fucked down below by Mac’s anaconda while Alec’s meat fills your mouth.

Alec forces himself into your throat, making you gag momentarily. He gives you a short break, then plunges himself deep again, making you gurgle.

You concentrate on accommodating the big dick in your mouth, but then the sudden sensation of Mac cumming inside you breaks your focus and you gag on the meat again, making a choking sound.

Another receiver takes his turn between your splayed legs and thrusts the full length of his rod into you. His dick is warm and big, but it feels different than Mac’s. You adjust your body slightly to accommodate the new angles. He’s not as talented as Mac but you manage to enjoy his steely penis. Soft moans emit from your dick-filled mouth. “Ehhhh, Ehhhh, Ehhhh, Oh! Mmmm, Mmmm! Oh!”

Then Alec’s dick spasms in your jaws. If feels like a gallon of gooey mess surges into your mouth. Some of it dribbles down your throat and you swallow. You spit the rest out.

The receiver between your legs pulls out and shoots thick jets of cum onto your baby bump. Then another takes his place between your spread legs and DeAndre slides his dick in your mouth. You’re stuffed full again.

The onlookers start chanting, “Q.B. ONE! Q.B. ONE! Q.B. ONE!” as they each take their turn with you. Your ordeal finally ends 50 minutes later with your rotund pregnant body covered in cum. You’re physically drained, but you know it was worth it to help the team.

The next game is your best yet. You blowout the Chicago Bears 63 to 10. Every receiver catches at least two passes, and you set a Panther’s record, throwing for 489 yards. A new tradition is born with you agreeing to let the receiving corps gangbang you once a week between games.

After winning the 14th contest of the season, you’re at home enjoying a Monday evening off from practice. You stand in front of a full-length mirror and admire your heavily gravid form. You turn sideways and look at your profile view and gawk, amazed at how big your abdomen has grown. Then you face the mirror and use a finger to trace the dark line that’s appeared on your lower belly, the linea nigra. The line perfectly accentuates the attractive, delicate curve of your soft tummy.

Suddenly, you’re startled by Mac’s muscular arms softly wrapping around your baby bump from behind. You gave him a key to your luxury apartment weeks ago, but you didn’t hear him arrive tonight. He moves to caress your belly with sensual strokes as he ogles your gravid nudity in the mirror. He asks with his deep voice, “are you ready, Sam?” You hungrily say, “yes baby, I’m so wet already. I neeeeeed you Mac.” You lay on the bed on your side and hold your huge tummy in your hands. You lift one leg into the air and let Mac’s rod enter you from behind while he holds you in a spooning position.

After he puts a hot load of cum in you, he continues holding you and whispers, “hey, uh…Sam.” You can tell he’s uncharacteristically nervous. “Hey man, I was wondering. You know, since the baby is, like, both of ours, do you want to, you know, move in with me?” You cuddle closer to him, feeling wholesome. He continues, “my house has everything the kid could need, so uh, what do you think?” You wholeheartedly agree.

The regular season ends with the Panthers seventeen and zero. The sports world is abuzz about the possibility of the first perfect season since 1972, and the entire world is talking about the pregnant quarterback who’s leading the team.

You sit down during the bye week for a nationally televised interview with reporter Marisha Traylor. Ironically, she’s several months pregnant, sporting a small baby pooch under her tight purple pantsuit. Your 8-month belly looks colossal as you sit across from her dainty bump in the studio.

Marisha: “Hi, Sam, thank you for being with us today. I’d like to start by asking how you’re feeling. Most moms and pregnant men are ready to start nesting at home at 8-months pregnant, but you’re still playing football at the highest level. How do you do it?”

“Hi Marisha, thank you so much for having me here! And congratulations on your bundle of joy. Ya, I’m feeling great, and the doctors say this baby girl is perfectly healthy.” You cuddle your arms around your expansive womb. “I certainly feel the nesting urge and I’m more lethargic than normal, but I love football. I’m driven every day to perform at my best for this city and my teammates, regardless of my condition. Even if I do have to pee every 15 minutes!”

Marisha: “Hehehehe, I hear you about the frequent bathroom breaks. But, wow, what you’re doing is incredible. I want to ask you about your decision to play football this year. I understand there’s a protocol that would have allowed you to skip the season and have the baby out of the spotlight, but you decided to step out and be the first man to play pregnant. Why?”

“Well, at one level, I love football and couldn’t bear the thought of not playing. But at a deeper level, I wanted to bring light to male pregnancy. Because male pregnancy is not very common, I really wanted to show other pregnant men that they’re not alone and there are other people out there going through the same things. I also want to take this chance to thank the fans who have been so wonderful in accepting me as a pregnant man. I don’t think I could do this without their support. And, of course, my teammates have been so supportive. We’ve shared some really intimate moments this year, and I can’t thank them enough for their kindness, especially my buddies on the receiving corps.” You wink into the camera, knowing your gangbang buddies will appreciate the shoutout.

Marisha: “And Sam, what do the doctors say about continuing to play. Is there any risk to the baby?

“Amazingly, they believe that the baby is perfectly safeguarded by the belly protector I wear on the field. There isn’t any risk to this kiddo.” You poke at your belly for effect, making the baby kick. “OH! Hehehe, big kick there! So, ya, I’ll continue to play as long as I’m not in labor.”

Marisha: “Ok, pivoting to a personal question. How is your relationship with the baby’s father, your teammate Mac Davison? How did he handle the news of having an unplanned child?”

“Oh, Mac’s been simply wonderful. He was actually the one who realized what was happening when I started showing pregnancy symptoms. I had no idea, ha! But he was a perfect gentleman and is going to be a great dad. He’s been at my side for every ultrasound appointment, assembled all the baby furniture, helped pick out things for the registry, and he even rubs on my stretchmark cream every night.” You put your hand to your mouth, “oh, maybe that was too much information, hahahaha! But ya, I can’t imagine doing this without his support, he’s great.”

Marisha: “Wow, must be nice to be so supported. Ahem, I hope my husband was listening! And can I ask about the current status of your relationship?

You bite your lip shyly and lift your left hand to the camera, showing off a diamond encrusted band that Mac gave you. “Well Marisha, Mac popped the question the other day. He did it in the perfect place for us…a football field. It was very romantic. I said yes of course!”

Marisha: “Oh, how exciting! Congratulations! Do you have a wedding date yet?”

Not yet, we’re too focused on the upcoming games to plan a wedding, but we’re definitely looking forward to it.

Marisha: The next question comes from our Twitter Poll. The people voted and they want to know whose belly is bigger at this point. You or center Jaymon Kirk?

“Oh, hahahah, I didn’t expect that question. Actually, Jaymon and I have compared measurements. He’s still winning, but I’m catching up rapidly!”

Marisha: “Alright Sam, of course we have to ask a football question. Do you have any projections for the playoffs? Are the Panthers going all the way?”

“Well Marisha, the 49ers have a really strong defense, and everyone knows the Eagles are a well-balanced team. We’re going to take things one game at a time and try to play our best football and see how things go.”

Marisha: “And last question Sam, at the risk of getting too much information, can you tell us about your labor and delivery plans? We know many pregnant men opt for a c-section. Can you tell us about how you’re intending to give birth?”

“Oh, ya. I try not to think about the labor and delivery part, hahaha! My OBGYN is actually encouraging me to try a natural birth and I’ve been working hard on my preparation for labor. I want to show men that they don’t have to settle for a c-section if they don’t want to. My medical team is just obviously worried about the size of the baby because, you know, Mac is a pretty big guy and, well, you can understand the challenge.” You nod your head with certainty and cuddle your burgeoning belly again, “I just want a healthy baby in the end; that’s my focus.”

Marisha: “Well, there you have it everyone. Thanks for talking to us today, Sam. You’re a trailblazer on and off the field. We wish you and the Panthers the best in the playoffs!”

PART 3

“Hey man, you have a nice nap?” Mac asks.

You stretch, “oh, sure did!” as you sit up on the couch.

“Kelly’s still asleep. I just checked on her,” he says holding the baby monitor in his hand.

You smile, thankful that you have a supportive partner like Mac.

“So, I was wondering if you want to watch the video now?” he asks.

You’re finally ready to say yes. It’s been 4 weeks since you gave birth to baby Kelly and you’re ready to see what happened that night at the Superbowl.

“Ok, let’s see here,” Max says as he sets up the video on the TV in the cozy living room. “You want to start with the beginning?” You nod, “yep, start from the beginning.”

The recording begins with your team, the Panthers, taking the field at Allegiant Stadium in Las Vegas. As you watch, your heart begins to beat rapidly as the memory of the big game reenters your mind. You watch the screen and see yourself run through the tunnel and onto the field alone. You snicker for a second at the gigantic belly on the screen. Sitting on the couch, you silently reach down and feel your tummy. It’s still a little spongy 4 weeks after giving birth, but nothing like the gargantuan 9-month preggo belly you sported at the Superbowl.

On the screen, you stand on the field facing the tunnel and your teammates emerge one-by-one. Each one stops in front of you and pays homage to your belly. Some rub it, some drum it softly, but only Mac bends down and kisses it.

As the National Anthem plays and F/A-18s flyover on the screen, you remember the extremes of excitement, anxiety, desire, and fear you felt going into the biggest football game of your life.

Then the game starts. You watch the Denver Broncos, your opponent, score a field goal on their first possession. Then you watch your first drive of the game. You complete three passes to start the drive, then you watch in amazement at the fourth pass to Mac. He’s triple covered, but you manage to place a pass in a tiny window between the defender’s outstretched arms as Mac leaps high into the air and brings down the pass for a 28-yard gain. You look over to Mac beside you on the couch, “that was so amazing dude!” He chuckles, “yep, it was a perfect pass QB1.”

The first half ends with the game tight, the Panthers leading 24 to 20. You and Mac sit on the couch and watch Usher perform the halftime show. The music is amazing, but you recall how loud the stadium was and remember how the vibrations echoed through your big belly uncomfortably. Then you remember letting Mac passionately fuck your ripe pregnant body in the locker room before the second half started. That part was pretty fun.

You watch yourself run onto the field for the second half and remember the feelings in your belly. At the time, you thought it was just nerves, or maybe your belly protector was a bit misaligned. Looking back, you know that you were actually feeling contractions.

On the couch, you watch the play in the third quarter. You didn’t play as well, distracted by the strange sensations in your belly. After a bad possession, the camera focuses on you sitting on the bench. You see yourself grimace. The commentator questions if something about your pregnancy is impacting your performance. You remember feeling odd squeezes in your middle and the unmistakable sense that the baby was moving lower in your birth canal. You also remember actively ignoring the obvious signs of labor to focus on the game.

As you watch the fourth quarter, you see yourself in the huddle. Other people probably missed it, but you see that you’re standing with your legs spread, trying to get relief from the building pressure in your pelvis. The drive ends with a disappointing field goal for your team. The game is now tied at 34. The next possessions result in an interception thrown by the Bronco’s Russcel Wilber, a fumble by your running back, and then a punt by the Broncos.

You get the ball back 92 yards from the endzone with 2 minutes and 12 seconds remaining in the tied game. In the huddle, your teammates can see your distress. You’re honest with them, telling them that you think you’re having early contractions, but you say that the baby’s a long way from coming. You catch Mac grinning, excited for his baby to be born. You manage a sly grin back to him before the wave of another contraction sweeps through your body.

The resulting drive is difficult with several incomplete passes and small gains from your running back. With 6 seconds left in the game, the Panthers have only made it to the 48-yard line. It’s too far for a field goal, so you must try for a touchdown on the next play or the game will go to overtime. In the huddle, you call a pass play. Your primary target will be Mac, but you have 2 backup receivers and the running back also available. You also call a secondary play. You’ll use it as an audible if needed. The secondary play is a quarterback scramble to the left. The play will expose your body and put the baby at risk. Mac yells, “no way!” but you brush him off. “Just do your job and block if I call for the audible,” you say decisively. The stadium rocks with excitement as you break the huddle.

At the line of scrimmage, you see the defensive backs and safeties are playing far down the field. They’re willing to give up a short gain in order to prevent a touchdown. It’s a perfect setup for your quarterback scramble.

You scream, “White eighty, White eighty….” Then your body launches into a new contraction. You feel your belly tense mightily, making your knees shake. You whimper to yourself as your teammates glance back, wondering why you’re hesitating. You feel a jolt of pain in your pelvis, but you gather your strength and scream, “Alert, Alert!!!” This indicates that you’re switching to the secondary play. Then you tap your helmet, letting the team know that you’re reversing the play and will scramble to the right, away from the big linebacker you identified on the left side of the field.

The center snaps the ball into your hands as your contraction starts to letup. For a second, you hold the ball like you’re going to throw, further disguising your intent. Then you tuck the ball under your right arm and take off to the right side of the field. Your gigantic belly sways from side to side and bounces as you plod along. You’re so much slower compared to your pre-pregnant form. As you pass your right tackle, you turn your momentum up field towards the endzone. You can clearly see the 11 defenders who are determined to stop your run. The crowd noise is unfathomable.

You move your legs as quickly as possible, but it’s frustrating how slow you are with the big baby weighing you down. A defensive end gets close to you, but Alec, the receiver whose dick you suck weekly, pushes him out of the way and you get 10 yards closer to your goal. Then a safety gets close to you. In the corner of your eye, you see Deandre, who also cums in your mouth weekly, closing in for a block. You intuit that he wants you to fake the defender right, then cut left. You follow his plan, enabling him to perfectly block the safety.

As you try to will your legs to run harder, another squeeze grips your belly. You can’t help but grunt, “UHHHH,” as you run. The pressure between your tired legs moves downwards from your pelvis and into your crotch as you try to focus on the goal line. Somehow, the crowd has managed to get even louder, encouraging you to continue.

More defenders try to stop you, but you’re so connected with your teammates, that you perfectly coordinate with them like they’re pawns protecting their attacking queen on a chessboard. Eventually, you’re 11 yards from scoring, but you see the big right linebacker on a collision course that will cut you off before you reach the endzone.

You decide to take him on headfirst, determined to get the ball across the goal line. He’ll undoubtedly cream you, but you don’t have another choice. Your womb continues to squeeze relentlessly as you brace for impact with the hulking football player. Suddenly, you see the big linebacker disappear like he simply vanished. Then you see Mac beside you. Your teammate, your lover, your baby’s daddy, your fiancé, has eliminated the threat by hurling the linebacker 10 yards to the side.

You cross the goal line with no time left on the clock and you spike the ball with vigor. Mac lifts you onto his shoulders and your teammates circle around to celebrate as the crowd roars.

Before you know it, you’re on a stage with your head coach, teammates, the Panther’s owner, and the NFL commissioner. They hand you the glistening Lombardi trophy. It’s heavier than you expected. You enjoy the trophy for a second, then give it to your teammates as the crowd continues to cheer.

A fine-looking reporter, Elise Anderson, puts a microphone in front of your face. “WOW! Sam, what an ending! Was that last play something you’ve been working on all year?”

You smile, “wow, ya, what a play! Honestly, no. I was simply responding to what the defense gave me. We called a pass play in the huddle, but when I saw the defense, I changed the play. And wow, my teammates blocked perfectly. It’s a testament to how close we’ve gotten this year. It’s like we can read each other’s minds on the field.”

The commissioner hands you the Most Valuable Player trophy. Elise continues, “ok M.V.P, we have to ask, how are you and the baby feeling?” Her question makes something switch in your head. For the past 20 minutes you’ve been so elated by the win that you somehow forgot about the contractions.

Your face goes blank as something strange happens. There’s a tug deep inside your womb, then a pull, then a feeling like a pop. You can almost hear the sound. Then you feel a surge of incredible pressure in your pelvis that radiates into your crotch. You know it’s the baby’s head ramming lower. The feeling of your insides stretching is unusual and unsettling.

The whole world sees a big wet spot grow in your grey football pants. Your water broke on the stage at the Superbowl. You remember the feeling, like a deluge of warm fluid suddenly soaked down your legs.

The intense sensations make you double over and throw your head back with a loud groan, “NNNNNNNN! Ho, Ho, NNNNNNNNN!” You shove the MVP trophy back to the commissioner, freeing your hands to rub your contracting sphere of a belly.

Elise asks, “um, Sam, are you ok?” You reply without thinking, “uh, I’ve been in labor since halftime I think.” The crowd becomes silent as you go on. “Oh, oh, shit this hurts!” You cradle your belly, trying to find relief.

Your vision narrows as the pain catches up with you. You don’t see Dr German, your OBGYN, leap on stage and sprint to you. You feel her soft hands rub your belly and she says soothingly, “hey Sam, can you tell me what you’re feeling?” You open your eyes and tell her, “oh, so much pressure and, UHHHHHHHHHH, I’m, HUUUUUUUU, definitely contracting.” You see her glance around to evaluate options.

Finally, she says, “hey Sam, there’s so many people in the way. We’ll be stuck here for at least 10 minutes. Um, I think I should check you right here.” You nod, so focused on labor that you don’t consider you’re about to let all of America see your nude, pregnant body.

She swiftly pulls down your tight football pants and removes your belly protector, then helps you lay back on the stage. You instinctively spread your thicc thighs wide as she kneels between your splayed legs. Your big, exposed belly jiggles and bounces from your labored breaths, then the belly undulates and ripples with the power of a potent contraction.

The doctor puts one hand on your contracting belly and when it relaxes, she pushes her hand into your male birth canal, making you exhale, “uhh, hoooooo.” You remember how big her hand felt and the bonieness of her knuckles pushing into your birth canal.

On the couch you look over to Mac in horror. “So, the whole world saw this? They all watched me spread my legs and get fisted by my doctor?”

He’s direct, “ohh, it gets way worse.” You just shake your head. He goes on, “the networks blocked most of this on their broadcasts, but there were so many people with phones that your entire labor and delivery is all over the internet.”

You sigh, “well, I did want to show men they don’t have to settle for a c-section. I just didn’t intend to do it quite so…well…literally.”

Back in the video Dr German says, “listen, Sam. You’re more than nine centimeters dilated and fully effaced. You’re going to have the baby right here, there’s no time to move you.” You just nod, completely frightened at the idea of giving birth. She looks up to the onlookers and starts directing them. “Mac, I need you on one side. Coach, you take the other. You guys are going to hold his legs when it’s time to push. Someone get warm water and towels from the trainers. FAST! And get an ambulance ready to transport them after delivery!”

The next contractions completely overpower you. You remember the sensation, like your abdomen was being pressed down by 1000 elephants. The pain radiates through your lower back as the pressure somehow gets even more intense. Then your body relaxes, and you exhale with a, “mmm, heeeee, hoo.”

Your break is short and another wave, like the strongest cramp you’ve ever experienced, hits you. You cry out, “MMMMMM, MMMMMM, MMMMMM,” trying to ride it out until you get another break.

Dr German slides her hand into you again and you respond to the invasion with a sharp, “Uggggg, Huuuu.” She glances to the onlookers, “ok, it’s baby time! Can you guys hold his legs? Use both hands to give him a base to push against.” She reaches up and grabs a towel from the trainer and places it under your rear.

Then she addresses you, “alright Sam. It’s time. Just like we’ve talked about, you’ve got this. When you feel the urge, go ahead and bear down and focus your power down here.” She points to your red, puffy, exposed birth canal.

Mac takes your right leg into his hands and coach takes your left and they help you spread your legs wide. On the couch, you groan, weirded out at the sight of yourself so vulnerable and exposed.

Then a massive wave of pressure overwhelms your senses. For a second, you don’t know what to do. Your body guides you, and you curl yourself over your big, round belly and you push. Somehow, it’s the most natural thing you’ve ever felt. Your body was made to birth this baby.

Having the push to center your attention makes the contraction hurt less, but the feeling of your baby being slowly propelled through your birth canal is outlandishly bizarre.

When the contraction finally ends, you exhale loudly, “heeeee!” You look to Mac for reassurance, and he says, “good job, hun!” and rubs your inner thigh.

Dr German reminds you to breathe on the next contraction. You manage another strong push while panting, “MMMMMM, he, he, HO, MMMMMM, he, he, HO, MMMMMM, he, he, HO.”

Your next break is even shorter, and a crushing contraction takes over before you’re ready for it. You bellow loudly, “HUUUUUUU, he, he, ho, HUUUUUUU, he, he, ho, HUUUUUUU, he, he, ho.”

On the screen you see yourself shake and quiver. Your face is red and sweat runs down your face. You even manage to have a popped out vein on your forehead.

Dr German assesses your birth canal and looks above your big belly to your face. “Sam, this is a really big girl. You need to push hard!”

Her words make you mad. “I AM PUSHING HARD!” you retort. Before she can reply, your belly contorts with another contraction and your familiar labor sounds come again.

As you get a break, you turn your anger to Mac. “You did this to me! Why did I ever have sex with you! Never again. Your penis is never coming close to me again!”

Dr German says, “save your strength Sam. Another one is coming.”

The next contraction slams you, and you push hard, bearing down with everything you have. You feel progress and the baby moves closer to your exit. But the progress comes with an overwhelming sensation that your insides are being stretched to their breaking point.

Your eyes go wide from the pain and you push again, making the feeling of ripping crescendo. You yell, “I can’t. I’m splitting open!” Dr German reassures you, “everything is normal Sam. Having a baby just hurts.”

On the couch, you turn to Mac, “I see what you mean about it getting worse.” He just smirks back. You continue, “sorry that I was so loud, wow.” He shrugs, “honestly, man, it was kinda sexy the way you were bellowing.”

Back on the screen you have a break and take several pulses of deep breaths, making your tummy jiggle and wobble.

The next contraction brings a deep grunt while you push, “HUUUUUUUUGGGGGG” and then a staccato exclamation when you breathe, “hi, hi, hi, hi!” Then you push again with the same deep grunt. This time, you feel a stinging sensation in your crotch. The next push turns the sting into a fiery burning.

Mac says, “Sam, I can see her head!” His words excite your tired body, and you bear down again with a mighty push. This time, you can feel your exit start to widen for the baby’s head.

“Do you want to reach down and feel?” Dr German asks. You don’t answer, but your left hand slides down your belly and finds your baby’s head that’s pushed you partially open. “Oh, oh my gosh!” you exclaim before a contraction makes you bear down again.

Your body pushes hard, and you shake from the effort. You grunt as usual, “GUUUUUUUHHHH!” then you recover with a “HI, HI, HI, Haaa!”

The next push spreads you a little wider, but then you have three excruciating contractions without much progress.

Dr German is focused on your birth canal, but she says, “this is a really big baby. Can you guys widen his legs more?” Coach and Mac yank you even wider. You feel something release in your pelvis and you know the next push with be fruitful.

The next push makes the head widen your birth canal into a nearly full crown. You turn to Mac on the couch with your eyes wide. “I can’t believe I did this.” He nods, “me too dude. I wouldn’t have believed it if I wasn’t there.”

The sound of your scream pulls your attention back to the screen. You’re pushing again, making the head bulge out each time you bear down. “HAAAAAAA, hii! hii! hii!”

You remember the final push. Something deep inside gave you an extra ounce of strength and you bore down with extreme power. You felt yourself spread wider, and wider, and wider preparing to oust your big baby from your body.

On the couch, you watch in amazement at how obscenely wide the baby spread you. Then, baby Kelly shot free. You remember the moment of extreme pain. On the screen you screech, “AYYYYAAAAA!” Then the pain vanished, and baby Kelly was in your arms. In the video, an ambulance arrives, and you’re swiftly loaded up and transported to the hospital.

You look at Mac. “Wow, honestly, I kinda blanked out most of the delivery from my memory. That was insane.” He agrees, “ya dude, sure was. You were amazing and so strong”

Then he gets a twinkle in his eye, “hey Sam, Kelly is still asleep. You wanta…you know…maybe…”

You say sadly, “Mac, I’m sorry dude. Doctor German said I’m not ready to receive yet. I know you have needs, but I just can’t right now.”

He’s a little timid, “um, Sam, I was thinking it might be me on the receiving end this time.” Your eyes go wide, and he says, “I think I’m ready to tryout that beautiful dick of yours, just…you know…go easy on me. And maybe, you know, I might even get to be the one to carry our next baby.”

-THE END-

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