Pillow Talk

Chapters

Pillow talk with Pinkie
Pillow talk with Applejack
Pillow talk with Rarity
Pillow talk with Twilight
BONUS: Pillow talk with Chrysalis
Pillow talk with Dash
Pillow talk with Fluttershy

Pillow talk with Pinkie

She lays there panting, splayed out haphazardly on the bed. Her little pink tongue hangs out, and she gasps cutely for breath, her sweet little pot belly rippling up and down with her exhausted search for air.

"Tha-That was, it felt, I never thought, I didn't think, I've never had..." Pinkie babbles quietly. You nod your head, effortlessly wrapping an arm around her quivering shoulders and draw her in lovingly close.

"But did you like it?" You whisper softly into her ear, leaning in to nuzzle at the twitching cave. She squirms in your arms, and bites at her lower lip coyly. A deep red flush of scarlet paints at her cheeks and she gazes over at you lovingly. She nods her head, and her sweat drenched bangs dangle momentarily in your face.

"Yes. I've never been kissed there before. S-sorry if I was too loud. I've never, I mean, I didn't know it could feel like that, and I know I got kind of excited towards the end there..." She whispers bashfully, still looking guilty as if enjoying that kind of pleasure as much as she did were wrong somehow. You offer her a devious grin, and pull her in close, the sheets soaking up your weight and the mattress conforming lovingly around you both. You never considered Pinkie a screamer but now, looking back on it, you didn't know how she could be anything but.

"You were wonderful. "You whisper softly, slowly dotting her neck with appreciative affection. Soft, suckling pecks of kisses that make her gasp underneath the sudden sensations. Even sweaty and exhausted, her body still tasted faintly of peppermint. Sweet was the perfect word to describe Pinkie. "You've got eyes like the clearest ice, a smile that could light up a room, an appetite for life that can never be appeased, and a soul as sweet as candy," you coo lovingly into her ear. She smiles shyly. You smile too. You know it's absolutely revoltingly sweet, but those are the kinds of thoughts that creep into your head when she's around. It's what she does to you. It's why you can't stop smiling, laying next to her, cuddling her sweetly. She nuzzles against your neck.

"I just never thought I'd find someone like, like you. Someone I never wanna be without , I mean, you're just ...Whew. You're like the very best party I've ever had," Pinkie giggles, awkwardly. She bites at her lower lip after a moment, her ears flushing a darker shade of pink. For a brief and adorable second, a grave look of utter concern stretches itself across her pretty muzzle. She immediately shakes her head in dismay.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that, I mean not like that, I mean, that came out funny. Not, ha-ha funny, but like, weird funny. I mean to say, I've had other parties, but not, like parties you know? I don't go around having parties all the time with just anypony, but I, I mean I do, but not the same kind of party. I'm not comparing you to other parties that I've had, I just, I mean, C-Can I start over again? "She sputters helplessly. God shes adorable. You lean in to bop her on the nose and instead of responding, you simply cuddle her closer, wrapping your arms around her and letting her bury her nose into the crook of your neck.

"You make me smile." You whisper quietly. An absolute truth of the universe in so many words. She gives a little dramatic gasp, as if she's never heard anything so awe-inspiring and melts against your frame.

"Please don't be a dream," she begs you quietly. You stroke through her cotton candy mane and give her another reassuring squeeze, slowly tilting her head up to kiss her on the lips. She moans into your mouth, and you softly drink in her scent. She gives a loving little sigh as the kiss breaks, and she rests her head against you; her body goes limp. Completely relaxed, happy in your arms, and you, happy in hers.

"I'm not, but you are. Until I met you, I've never had to figure out what to do after my dreams came true. Now I'm kinda lost, but I'm thinkin' maybe I'll take up baking. I know a really great pastry chef, maybe she'd help me start a business or something," you chuckle quietly. She giggles at that, stretching out on the soft bedding before twisting herself till she can roll over onto her back, peering up at the ceiling.

"I've always wanted that. My own bakery, I mean. A place where all the kids in town can come by, and we can have parties and games and I can give out free cupcakes on birthdays, and just, I know I'm the silly one, and I'm the goofball, but I have dreams too! I really do, even if I'm too scared to talk about them sometimes, but with you...I feel like I can tell you anything..." Pinkie sighs quietly, her lips stretched into a helpless smile. You decide then an there to start saving up to buy a bakery. Only the sweetest gift for the world's sweetest pony. For a few moments, you two simply lay there, basking in each others company, until the gentle sound of snoring ripples through the room.

Her eyes are closed, her mouth is open, and her left leg twitches slightly. You smile, collecting the blankets on the bed, and pulling them delicately around the two of you. In the morning, you'll start looking for locations to set up a new bakery in Canterlot but for now, you're content to snuggle in close against the mare you love. Pinkie Pie nuzzles up against you in turn and gently you slowly fall asleep.

Author's Note

Smoochy woochy daws for you and Pinkie Pie

Pillow talk with Applejack

"Whew... You good?" is all she asks. Simple and to the point. Earth mare through and through. She rolls over and goes to sleep when you nod your head, and you can't help but to beam. Some ponies might call that a lazy thing to say at the end of the night, but not you. You love that mare like nothing else and that was one of the most romantic things you've ever heard her say.

See, Applejack isn't big on romance. She's not big on words of affection or tokens of sentimental value. If somepony were to surprise her with a rose while she was working the fields, she'd smile. She'd nod her head and say 'Thank ya' kindly." She would appreciate it, but to her it would not be romantic. It would be a wasted effort. A pointless deed. That was not the way to Applejack's heart. Applejack cared about her friends, and her family, and the hard work that it took to maintain those things. Applejack was about hard work and efficiency. You didn't need to caress her to show her you cared about her, or whisper softly into her ear. All that would simply do, is keep her up at night. No, you spend all day with her. You didn't need to tell her you loved her. You were up at four am next to her this morning, bucking apples. You were next to her slopping the pigs all afternoon, and you were next to her fighting off those timber wolves that dared cross into the orchards from the forest in the evening.

Those precious hours spent by her side, were worth all the "I love yous" in the world to her. So at the end of the day, when all you want to do is sleep and you know she desperately wants to do the same and you summon that last amount of energy for a roll in the hay for her, She knows it means something. And when she says yes, because to her- you're worth that last amount of energy. Those last extra minutes of consciousness when your body is waving every flag for you to get to sleep. You don't take time with small talk or whispering gentle things; you rut each other good and hard, fast and strong and efficiently. All you have left is the energy for that one last show of affection, and then you collapse next to each other, barely conscious, barely awake hanging onto that last shred of being alert and functional. You know Applejack feels that same tired, deep in her core, and the last words out of her mouth were: You good?

"You good?" It's almost shocking to think that she would hang on, even that much longer if you said 'no'. That she was willing to force herself to stay awake, just to make sure you understood what you really mean to her. There is no pull like the pull towards sleep, (Known to the millions of students everywhere) and to think she would willingly put herself through that, just for you. She's the reason you can do this every day. You work for her, and she works for you, and every inch of effort, every single day, is just another way to say "I love you." And you will never stop loving this mare.

You look over at her one final time before you slip into the dreams Luna has in store for you tonight. Smiling softly, you kiss her on the nose. "Goodnight Applejack," you whisper.

Pillow talk with Rarity

She is flawless. Pristine. Sublime. She is beauty incarnate and she is lying next to you in bed. Breathing hard and panting, and yet, somehow she still looks heavenly. An angel. Rarity is an angel. You'd say she was your angel, but the universe knows full well you belong to her. You love it that way. She does too.

She's got this gorgeous little fun loving smile cast across her features and she gives the occasional exhausted giggle. She's proud of herself- another masterpiece complete. "Sex is like a beautiful dance. A ballet of skillful maneuvers and loving displays of passion. " She says. It is an artform, and Rarity, if nothing is very artistic. Her creativity is only matched by her enthusiasm, and when she's finished, when you're gasping for breath, trying to figure out exactly what she did to you- that's when she giggles. That heavenly chime of a sound. Thats when she's satisfied with her generosity.

"Beautiful. You're beautiful." You sputter, and catch the smug little glimpse of a smile twitching at the corner of her lips. Of course she's beautiful, but the words feel clumsy coming out of your mouth. Grotesque and filthy, as if you can't believe 'beautiful' is the only word you can come up with to describe her. A pitiful excuse of an adjective that barely begins to scrape the surface of description. She's more to you than you can ever hope to put into words or actions. All you can ever do is try, and she knows it all too well.

Still, every now and then you manage to say something particularly heartfelt, and catch sight of a warm pink blush that raises over her cheeks. When you notice something small she's done, combed her mane in a certain way, tried on a new perfume. When you call her out on that small little piece of something out of place on her frame. When you notice how hard she works to present herself. That's what she loves the most. She doesn't need to put on makeup, or dress up, or look pretty. She's heavenly regardless, and she knows it. So it means everything, when you notice the effort she puts into her beauty.

"You're beautiful. " You say again. Her smile breaks into a warm little grin and she climbs atop you, cuddling against you lovingly. She's satisfied. The best thing you can do for an artist is indulge them. To let them create and take an interest in their imagination, and in bed, Rarity is extremely creative. And she's generous, very generous, and you let her be. Every passionate, loving session for her is a work of art, and you: her Mona Lisa. Her Sistine chapel. Her David. You are her finest masterpiece every night, and luckily for you, she only strives to get better.

For a moment, you enjoy the scent of her hair tingling in your nose. Wrapping you arms around her, you squeeze her against your frame, and gently whisper the reasons you love her into her ear. As you finally start to drift off to slumber, the last thing you can remember seeing is her loving, cozy smile.

Pillow talk with Twilight

Magic. You roll over onto your side, pulling the blankets up over your shoulders. Any moment now she's going to pick up her note book and start scribbling a new journal. It's magic. Just give it a second.

Ahh, there it is. She scratching at her note book again. You feel a gentle grin tug at your lips as your ears catch the familiar scraping sound of quill and parchment. That's what she does when she can't sleep. When she's got something on her mind. Your grin widens. You know exactly what's on her mind.

New experiences.

Shes probably writing a journal about how it felt, or what she'd like to try next time. Twilight is always thinking. Always pursuing science and prodding at every possible angle of everything. Including sex. That big beautiful brain of hers working over time every day, and you can only imagine the scientific equations she's writing down about the last forty-five minutes of your physical activity.

"Hey?" She whispers quietly, tapping you on the shoulder. You shift under the blankets to twist around and face her.

Instantly, you're blinded by that bright brilliant smile of hers. As your eyes adjust you see a simple nerdy bowl cut thats tinted a dark shade of navy save for two slender stripes of magenta and purple. It's her eyes that capture you the most though; those deep heavenly purple hues. Sparkling with untold wonder and intelligence. She stores and catalogs everything she sees and right now shes looking at you. Taking you in. Everything about you, in this moment, capturing it forever in her photo graphic memory. How you got so lucky as to end up in the same bed with this mare is an untold mystery that may never be solved.

"H-Hey..." She says again, flushing faintly when she realizes she's woken you up. You smile at her anyway. What else can you do, looking into those eyes of hers. She bites at her lower lip sweetly and peers back at you with a coy grin twitching at her lips.

"I...I love you." She says softly, as if reveling in some perfect moment of absolute clarity as she says those words to you. All you can do is nod, feeling your heart explode in your chest with joy. How she can break your heart in such fantastic ways is magic. That's the only word for it. This girl is absolute magic. Every night she breaks your heart. It explodes like a firework when she gets home, and the first thing she does is hug you. Yeah. Your heart explodes in love. It breaks, and in that moment she puts it right back together again, beating harder than before. Faster too, and ever so much stronger. Every time she's around. It's magic. Its got to be.

You're not sure you're smart enough to come up with a word to describe her. Heck, she might be the only mare in the world who can describe her. And try as you might, you can't think of anyway to show her how you feel other than pulling her firmly into your arms, and passionately pressing your lips to hers. You wonder, if the pen is mightier than the sword, and a picture is worth a thousand words, what is the value of a kiss?

As far as your concerned it's infinite, because as you finally break that loving embrace she grins shyly, and flips her navy mane out of her eyes.

"I see the feeling is mutual." She giggles quietly. She turns to put her notebook away, and settle in cuddling next to you. You catch a glance at the page she's been writing and draw in a gasp.

It's not a scientific equation. It isn't a theory or notes, or an essay. It's not even a journal or a diary. It's just your name. Written over and over again in big, loopy fancy letters. Surrounded by doodled hearts and stick figure drawings of you and Twilight. Her scientific journal with a page missing. There is no science here, only the love sick scribbles of a happy mare. Your happy mare. You swear it's magic. But then, of course it's magic. It's what she does best, and for that, you'll always love her.

BONUS: Pillow talk with Chrysalis

You roll onto your side and let the comforter melt around you. The sensation of warm micro-fiber feels fantastic, but it's nothing compared to the creature sharing the bed with you. She's laying on her side, curled up like a cat and purring contentedly. Purring. the low rumble of pleasure that you might expect from a cat, is now emanating off of the queen of the changelings. She catches your grin and turns a slight shade of pink, looking away with a quiet smile.

"I've never been treated to such a meal...A feast..." She mumbles lazily. You're proud of yourself. You can't help it. After all, you did something most other ponies could only hope to dream about; you 'toppled' the dreaded changeling queen, Chrysalis. You roll onto your back, and she cuddles in next to you like a spoon.

"Urp, n-no more thanks, I'm full." She giggles with a loving musical chime. Since coming across a never ending supply of food (I.E. you) Chrysalis and her brood are more than happy to spend their time away from civilization in the Badlands. And you're more than happy to spend your time with her. With the peace treaty in effect, you two are free to go wherever you like, but most of the time your both happy exploring underground caverns, learning about different ancient civilizations, and fight the occasional terrible mole creature. Most of all, you just love being with her, and she loves being with you. You can feel it. A warm blanket fresh out of the dryer on a cold winter day, squeezing around your body in a crushing hug of security. Or...something like that. Your love for her is magnified and echoed in the feedback. It's like an endless chain of emotion, and it's more than enough food for the rest of your lives. You've managed to bring about an international peace just by falling in love with the queen next to you, and honestly? You don't care about that at all.

All you know for sure is that you're happy. And so is the queen.

Pillow talk with Dash

It's silent now. The only sounds in the room are the heavy gulps of air Dash takes and only seconds ago there was frantic shouting. Squealing and shrieks, screaming and the sound of furniture crashing to the ground in a clatter of passion. The sounds that fill the house might have lead to the impression that something abusive was happening. Something dangerous and violent. Perhaps. But that's the way Dashie likes it. That's the way you like it- when she's happy. You know she's happy, even if the only sound you can hear right now is the raspy hisses of breath she takes. The sound of a pegasus panting. The sound of a pegasus spent. The sound of a pegasus completely exhausted.

The sound of a pegasus satisfied.

A grin curls over your lip and you roll onto your back, peering up at the cloudy ceiling. She never wants to cuddle afterwards. "Too sweaty" she says. You idly wonder if it's just her persona she's clinging too. Too tough for cuddles or something like that. She's looking at you with this quiet, lofty little smile and she gives a sigh. She doesn't say anything. She never does. That's how you know she's happy with you. When she doesn't say a word. When she can't.

When she gets home after a long day of mending the weather, saving the world, hanging out with her little sister, and training for the wonderbolts, Dashie is pretty tired. Add in an extra last minute workout at the gym, and she can barely hold her head up when she gets home. That's when you strike. When you take her into your arms and squeeze her so tightly she can barely breathe. That's when you carry her to bed and take full control. She loves it that way. She doesn't have to do a thing and couldn't even if she wanted to. She's too tired. That's when you take her passionately. That's when you throw every stress you have into pleasuring this goddess of a girl until absolute exhaustion takes her over and she's left feeling nothing but how much you love her.

When every last worry and stress and trouble is radiantly soothed over with just how hard you love her, there isn't anything left in the world to say. So she doesn't say anything. Words wouldn't describe how she feels right now. You know that. You helped her get here, and you're feeling it too.

You love that grin. Always the same one, each and every time. Like she knows some deep dark secret the world will never be in on, and she's sharing it with you. You share your secret too: no matter what happens, you've got her back. Forever and a day. You'd tell her this, but you're too tired to say anything. She's too tired to say anything either, but she does smile at you. In those burning eyes you can see your reflection and in that instant you know exactly how she feels about you. It's all the two of you need to say, and you don't say anything at all.

Pillow talk with Fluttershy

A splash of sunlight hits your face. It's morning. Sunday. A warm summer morning with a fresh breeze drifting in from the forest after last night's thunderstorm. The perfect lazy morning with the perfect mare. You snuggle in next to her, listening to the gentle rhythmic sound of her breathing. She's grinning at you lovingly, just on the threshold of dreaming and awake. You know what it's like; living with a dream come true. It's absolutely surreal.

Your relationship with Fluttershy is something like that. She makes you happy in ways you'd never thought possible. You two spent the evening drawing and cuddling near the fire as the storm raged outside. You made popcorn and told each other jokes, and whispered secrets about your hopes and dreams. You carried her up to bed when it got late with a piggyback ride, and the two of you drifted off to sleep, cozy under the covers. A wonderful evening. One of many.

She opens a single eye and turns to look at you with a hushed smile. Some silent excitement that bubbles inside of her, happy to know you're still right where you promised you'd be last night.

You glance over at her and her love sick smile. Gently, you reach over and gently scratch behind an ear. She sighs quietly, and you do too. She snuggles up against you, sharing your warmth while her breathing slowly falls into sync with yours and you cuddle your arms around her. She smells like strawberries. Her mane is sweet and sugary, like silk pressing against your body. You stay like that, pressed together, and your mind blearily goes over the things you two have planned today. A walk through the forest, stop off at the store, buy a cake (or two) picnic lunch with your friends, visit the carnival in town that evening. Watch the stars as they come out at night.

You smile to yourself. It really does sound like a perfect day, made that way by the sweet yellow pony cuddled in your arms. You can hardly wait to spend it with her, but for now, you're content to slowly drift back to sleep, keeping her warm and safe next to you.

Author's Note

You may have noticed Fluttershy's story is considerably different than the others of the list. I wanted a situation where Pillow talk happens, but without the sex. Without talking what so ever. Just snuggling and cuddling. This particular relationship indicated above is not sexual, and that's okay. having sex is not the defining point of your love for someone, nor should it be (imho). There are lots of ways to demonstrate you love someone, and the physical act of love making is but one of many.

You don't need a super long chapter to demonstrate your love for someone. <3