#❀ doll writes

[fireblossomdoll]

Hi there !

Is there a way you can do a small fix or even a headcanon on how madara would act with his pregnant wife being moody or having mood swings. And craving weird foods?

If you would be so kind to make a scenario when she interrupts his meeting to ask for food

Btw I love your works 💗💗

Madara x pregnant!Reader hcs

Content: Uchiha Madara x Reader, fem!reader, husband!Madara x wife!reader, pregnacy!!, fluff, humor, crack A/N: Thank you so much for the request anon!! This is my first request so it's very special to me. I don't really write or read fics with pregnancy, but I tried my best (─‿‿─)♡ I'm also trying to write a little fic about it rn!!

Husband!Madara was very happy when he found out that you were pregnant. He could barely believe that he was going to be a father and finally have the family he dreamed of.

Husband!Madara tried to find out all the information he could about pregnancies, so that he could assist you in any way you needed.

Husband!Madara got annoyed anyway when you would get mood swings. He knew that it was a normal symptom, but it still annoyed him. He would send others to get you some chamomile tea to calm you down.

Husband!Madara would find your weird cravings amusing, but try to talk you out of them unless they were somewhat normal. He wouldn't let you eat sand, no matter how crunchy it looked, but would try to get you some ice to chew instead.

Husband!Madara would fry whatever food you wanted. The first time tasted so incredibly good, so you kept asking for more.

Husband!Madara started seasoning the fried food with spicier peppers as your requests got weirder to discourage you from wanting more. Eventually, it got so spicy you started crying when you took a bite and he felt bad. So he stopped putting extra chilli, but at that point you were too scared of fried foods to ask for more.

[filiseverus]

The Barbie movie reminded me about how when I was little my parents were upset that I kept making my Barbie dolls kiss, so they bought me a Ken doll. The next day they found me having a funeral for poor Ken in the garden, he had died of tuberculosis. All the Barbies were in attendance and I buried him under our rose bush. The Barbies were too poor to afford a headstone (it was 1875) so I didn’t mark where the grave was and I never could find him again. He’s probably still there.

[sqrkyclean]

Play toys can mean anything from running around in a field together to making elaborate littlest pet shop rp scenarios to playing Minecraft to learning yoyo tricks together to having an elaborate fancy tea party to doing bob Ross paintings together to hardcore bdsm sex. And you can do any of them with your friends if they have time and want to play toys with you btw

[bixels]

Posting a sneak-peak of this now because I'm about to be In The Shit school workload-wise, so this'll take me a while to finish.

Doing some character design exploration/expression sheets for Celestia and Luna. Figuring out Celestia's weird ass anatomy while I'm at it.

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: Your apartment floods. Inspired by and for @liliumbosniacum

"I need to take leave."

Simon's phone is pressed against his face, one hand holding the device, the other with a canvas bag in his hand, it's contents overflowing: blankets, baby clothes, your pillow.

"Everything alright?" Price sounds suspicious, but more curious than anything, and Simon sighs.

"Neighbor's flat flooded. She's got nowhere else to go so I'm letting 'em stay with me for a while." Price, thank fucking god, doesn't push it any further, disconnecting with a rumble about checking in with him next week, wishing him a happy holiday, and a parting good luck.

When he hangs up, you're standing hesitantly in his doorway, pile of clothes in your arms.

"That the last of it?" He asks, and you nod.

"Are y-you sure this is okay?" You're still upset, shaken, and he doesn't blame you. You were terrified when you woke up to bone chilling, ankle deep water, frantically shouting about a burst pipe into the phone over Emmaline's shrieks.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I've got plenty of room." He does. His flat is larger than yours, and though they're both two bedroom floor plans, his bedrooms are bigger, and he has two bathrooms, compared to your one. "I got the crib reassembled in the guest room." He motions to the door that's half opened, a few bags of Emmaline's stuff collected on the floor.

"Thank you." you murmur, and then step forward, burying your face in his chest. He holds you there, rubbing your back, working his thumb into the knot that sits at the base of your neck. “At least we saved the tree,” you laugh, wet and sad, and he hums, bowing to press his lips to your forehead.

“I’m sorry love.”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Nothing I could control.” You’ve got a point there, and he appreciates the approach, marvels at your ability to not be angry or frustrated with your neighbor, even though it wasn’t really their fault as well. He’s irritated for both of you, anxious over visualizing what would have happened if the chunk of the ceiling that fell was misplaced and landed on you, or Emma.

You pull away, face twisted up into something that looks painful, tears on your lash line, and he frowns. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart, c’mon. It’s alright.”

“I know.” You cry, clamping your hand over the bridge of your nose and trying to turn away. “It’s just all her gifts we-were in my room and now they’re ruined, and-“

“Okay, so we’ll get more. We still have plenty of time.” He reassures, rubbing his palms up and down your arms until you come back to him, letting him fold you back into his embrace. “We’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”

“We will?” You sniffle, and he nods.

“I’m on leave, until after the holiday, so I’ll be around, we can go shopping and replace everything. It’s going to be alright. I promise.” That word slips out of him again, promise. I promise, just like he told you this morning when you were frantic and he said it was okay that you stayed with him, I promise, just like he assured last night when you apologized for Emmaline crying for most the evening. “Okay?” His chin rests on the top of your head, and he turns to kiss you, the touch as soft as he can manage. You hum, and then sigh into him.

“Okay Simon.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No.” His refusal is immediate, and you look at him in near exasperation.

“Simon I can’t kick you out of your bed! You’re too big for the couch, anyway, and I don’t mind, I’ve slept on a couch plenty. Plus I’ll be able to hear better, when Emmaline wakes-“

“Sweetheart.” You’re in the living room, bouncing Emmaline in your arms, walking back and forth in front of the fireplace. She’s wearing a red and white striped onesie, like a candy cane, and Simon chuckles when she makes grabby hands at him as he approaches. You sigh, and he tucks his hands under her, lifting her away and into his arms, pleased at how you instantly relax and stretch your back and shoulders in response. “Think you’re getting too big for mama, baby girl.” You roll your eyes, playfully knocking your elbow into his side, and he grunts. “You’re not kicking me out of my own bed.”

“No?” You turn with a hand on your hip, other one holding a half full bottle.

“No, well. I mean-“ he falters, suddenly losing his confidence. “I’m happy to let you have it, or…” He can’t get the words right, can’t communicate what it is he wants to tell you, too worried about scaring you off or being too forward, pushing you too far.

“Or?” You look so pretty, standing in his flat, your belongings, Emma’s, strewn about, just your presence alone making this place feel more like a home than it ever has before. He feels dizzy, overflowing with emotion when Emma lays her head down on his chest, and you smile at her, looking back up at him, delicate, sweet smile on your lips. He bends, tilting your face upwards to meet his, lips ghosting against one another as Emma coos from his arms.

“Or… we can share it.”

[ribbonsaikeaux]

Doll: Miss? Why do you get up up so early?

Witch, patting its head: early bird gets the worm, dear.

Doll, nodding then eyes lighting up with realization: The first thing Miss gets when she wakes up is this one!

Witch, confused: yes? And?

Doll: and Miss loves this one?

Witch, smiling: of course dear~

Doll, running around excitingly: MISS LOVES THIS ONE EVEN THOUGH ITS A WOOOORM!!!

Witch, laughing: sure dear. Sure.

[ro-bee]

lamb's family and life timeline i guess idk

[fireblossomdoll]

Ups and Downs

Synopsis: You're pregnant and having mood swings today, but Madara makes you a snack

Content: Uchiha Madara x Reader, f!reader, pregnant!reader, pregnancy!!, fluff, crack, mood swings

Word count: 987

A/N: A request from anon <3 (here are hcs about Madara and pregnant!reader)

You were already in the third trimester of your pregnancy. You couldn’t wait for your baby to come. You had picked and decorated a room with Madara, both of you really wanted this child. 

You decided to go to the market today to buy a little charm you had heard of. You had seen some children wrapping these cute pendants on their kunai, so you wanted one for your baby. The streets weren’t very crowded today, making for the perfect day out.

When you got to the store, you couldn’t find the charms. You had asked a few kids where they had gotten theirs and all of them led you here. Yet, as you searched the shelves, you couldn’t find the damn thing. Even worse, there was no staff in sight. You marched further into the store, looking for someone who could help you, and you started to think this trash place was empty.

“Hello?” You asked, annoyingly to no response.

“Hellooo??!!” You asked again, raising your voice so that the store’s useless employee could hear you.

An ugly, greasy looking guy appeared from behind one of the shelves.

“Hello, ma’am! How may I help you?” He said with his ugly smile. He sounded so nice it made you frown immediately.

“Finally! Where are you people hiding the cute charms I’ve seen around?”

“Uh, our kunai decor?”

“Are you dense? Yes, the kunai charms.” You were getting increasingly irritated by this.

“We’re unfortunately out of stock of this item.” He said, still with that hideous smile.

“The hell you mean, out of stock?! I’ve seen it everywhere!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. It is indeed one of our most popular products, and because of that, it’s currently sold out.”

“Argh!”

You were exasperated and left the store in a bad mood. You just wanted to do a nice thing for your baby, but everyone seemed to be against you today.

As you walked back home, more people started to come to the streets. Of course, you couldn’t even have this one thing.

In front of your house, you saw your roses blooming. They were so pretty! You remembered how Madara helped you find the seeds, plant them and take care of them. Even if he didn't really want to garden, he still helped you grow these beautiful roses. 

Madara had taken such good care of you during this pregnancy. You loved him so much, you couldn’t have asked for a better husband. He always made sure to not let you use too much effort, and he smelled so nice.

He would let you play with his hair while he cooked you breakfast, lunch and dinner. His hair was so soft and long, you loved fiddling with it. Oh yeah, sometimes it would smell like roses if you two worked with them for too long. And he would cook for you. Such delicious food, but maybe not what you wanted right now. You wanted something lighter and sour, like a green apple. But also very sweet, like honey.

As you wandered through the living room, you heard muffled voices coming from the other side of the house. You went towards Madara's office and put you ear on the shoji to listen to what he was saying.

“–find the scrolls? –”

“ –working on it. The team hasn't–”

You couldn’t hear it properly, but what they were talking about didn't matter. You knocked and waited. Nothing happened so you knocked again, with a little more force.

“Hmm? Come in.” You heard Madara's deep voice come through.

You opened the shoji, seeing Madara and Hikaku with some scrolls laying on the table. Both looked back at you, as you stayed halfway hidden by the shoji, not really entering the room.

“Madara,” You dragged his name a bit.

“Yes?” He gave a little cute smile.

You looked down and around the round before continuing, “I wanted something to eat,” He arched an eyebrow and opened his mouth, but you kept going, “Some apples dipped in honey would be very nice, you know?”

“Right now, dear? I'm in the middle of something,”

“Please? Cut apples with honey sounds so good, though,” You insisted.

He sighted and stood up.

Did you bother him too much? Maybe he was tired of working and trying to get done was fast as possible, and you made him late. Or maybe he was very concentrated and you interrupted all his thoughts by coming here. “Are you mad at me?”

“What? No, my love, I'm not bothered at all, just getting up,” Madara looked in your eyes, “This wasn't so important, Hikaku can deal with it by himself.”

“So it was important matters that I–”

“Not at all, let's get going,” He interrupted you and pointed towards the hallway, “Shall we?”

You followed him to the kitchen, where he picked a couple of green apples from a basket.

“You should sit down,” He told you as he grabbed a knife.

You sat down by the table and kept looking at Madara as he prepared your snack. He looked so good today, it made you smile.

When he finished cutting the apples, he poured honey into a small bowl. You were very happy with how things were looking. The honey and the apples looked delicious, you couldn't wait for Madara to bring them to you.

“Now, now, here's whatever this is supposed to be.”

Madara placed two bowls in front of you, the sliced apples and the honey. 

“Yay! Thank you!” You said as you reached out to grab one apple slice.

He walked to your side and bowed his upper body until he was slightly above your head. “No problem. Try not to make a mess with the honey, okay?” He told you before kissing your temple.

“Sure,” You said with your mouth full of apple and honey. “It's so sweet!”

“Well, it is honey,” He giggled, leaving you in the kitchen.

[softcryz]

「 Round and round it goes. 」

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY IN STARS AND TIME!! This game is absolutely fucking phenomenal and you KNOW I had to conjure up something for it's first birthday. Wipes a tear. They grow up so fast

I HONESTLY WASN'T SURE THAT I WAS GONNA FINISH THIS ONE BUT I SURPRISED MYSELF AND DID!! RIGHT BEFORE THE SIFFRIN PLUSHIE DROPPED TOO!! Sorry I'm excited I haven't done anything big-ish like this in a LOONG time go my screenshots

I have a version of this where it's JUST sasasaapFrin and the star because my sibling said it'd make a good phone background, so I'll throw that in here too :]

[witchpassing]

“So, like… speaking hypothetically. Just to help me get my head around the whole. Biometric key. Thing. If - if, again, purely hypothetically, I told you to kill… that guy. There, across the street. In the overcoat. You’d do it?”

“Automatically. Like breathing.”

The hacker wets their lips, knowing they shouldn’t ask, unable to resist. “How?”

“Dunno.” The machine tilts her head, studying the stranger in the long coat like a curious dog. The hacker still can’t think of her as an it. They’ve seen the file, the photograph of the woman this instrument was made from. “Snap his neck, let’s say. He wouldn’t feel it much. A little time, while the heart and the lungs turn off. Then lights.”

“Oh.” The hacker pushes a hand through their hair. It comes back damp. “I feel sick.”

“Better watch what you say to me, then. Boss.”

“Stop it,” they say. She’s been doing it since they figured out how to make her stop hunting them. They just wanted to be safe, not... whatever this is. “Stop calling me that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“No – no, that’s worse,” desperate now, “please, stop it, can’t you just talk to me like a person?”

“Why? So you can keep kidding yourself about the nature of this relationship? You own me now. You are the finger on the trigger, you are central command. If you want me to speak to you in a certain way, I suggest you exercise your authority and make me.”

Silence.

“Can we… Can you go back to calling me ‘boss’. At least. Sir is… just…”

“Sure. We can do that.”

[nackrosor]

~Your Wish~

(Part 3/3)

Part 1 - Part 2

Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader

warnings/tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con (with very dubious p in v), power dynamics, mommy issues, Brahms is a perv through and through

word count: 2,9k.

author's notes: this is the filthiest thing I've ever written, I swear. I tried to imbue this with all my naughtiness lmao I hope it was enough! Also, here's some art I made 'cause I'm that generoussss. I hope you enjoy the food! Bon appétit! 🤤🌹

"Did I scare you, Y/N? I didn't mean to..." 

He grimaced at the way his child voice came out broken and less convincing than usual, but in his state, even simply speaking was a feat.

You had been sluggishly fighting against his persistent grip on you, yet once you heard him speak, a loud gasp of shock escaped you, and your body stiffened under his. The way you tensed up made your back arch and your ass stick out even more. His focus shifted to your half-clad bottom, which was hovering only inches from his face. The drenched fabric of your panties had somehow stuck to the side, teasing him - torturing him - with that mouthwavering sight of you. 

Oh, what a struggle it was for him to refrain from seeking your heat again and then shoving himself inside you, once and for all. He was shivering with restraint while proceeding to keep you pinned to the mattress. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold himself back, though.

He wanted you to know who he was before he finally and thoroughly claimed you as his. His pride somehow exceeded his yearning.

"B-Brahms...?" You hesitantly whispered his name, hoping to catch a glimpse of him behind your shoulder. You could only make out a dark silhouette in your peripheral vision, for both the darkness of the room and his tight clasp prevented you from seeing anything else. "How-? W-what?"

Your voice was a little louder this time, and you sounded sharper. He also noticed with satisfaction that you were now remaining still under his hold. That was good. It would make things easier. He'd prefer not to fight you, not to force you... But if you were to refuse him... He would not hold back... He couldn't...

"You don't have to be alone anymore in this big, scary house." 

He made sure to stress out the last words, the same ones you used when you had confided your wish to the doll. He wanted you to understand… That wicked side of him wanted you to realise that he had always been there, watching you, listening in on you... That you have never truly been alone.

"Aren't you happy?"

He couldn't hide the impatience in his voice. His palm pressed harder onto your spine, imperceptibly rubbing up and down, seeking your touch. He found himself edging closer to you, his mask nearly touching your asscheek, his other hand ready to commit another despicable sin, the worst one yet.

“Let me see you? Please?"

He stopped in his tracks, momentarily stunned by your words.

You had asked so sweetly, your voice such a gentle caress to his ears, how could he have declined your request? After all, he had longed to have those gorgeous eyes of yours fall on him, finally seeing him, since the first day. And what would have been better than having you looking at him as he ravished you? Watching lust twist your features, the pleasure - he was igniting in you - flooding your lovely eyes. A shuddering breath escaped his lips as the vivid image arose in his mind, aggravating the torture.

Brahms loosened his grip, allowing you to turn around and lie on your back. As soon as your eyes met his, you let out another loud gasp. His gut flipped at the way your wide eyes flitted across his mask, chest, thighs, taking him all in.

You saw him. You were looking at him. Ah, what a dream... What a dream come true...

He wondered what was going through your pretty little head. How did it make you feel to know that the kid's voice you've occasionally heard reverberating through the mansion over the past few weeks hadn't come from a possessed doll or an imprisoned spirit... But from him. Your Brahms, in flesh and blood.

“B-Brahms…”

The way you tentatively called his name while looking up at him like a deer in the headlights was pure bliss.

He nodded enthusiastically in response and drew closer to you. His gaze flickered from your face to your hand, which he noticed slowly reaching up in his direction. He jerked back instantly out of reflex, frightened like a beaten dog meeting a loving hand for the first time, but as soon as he realized there was no threat in your intentions, he leaned back in and allowed you to touch his mask. Oh, how he yearned to feel your soft palm caressing his wounded cheek... to feel your gentle touch skin on skin… But that would have to be enough for the moment.

Now that he had your full attention. Now that you knew who he was and that no harm would come from him… with your eyes staring up at him with such awe and wonder… 

He couldn't wait any longer. 

His hand eagerly slipped between your thighs, fingers greedily seeking your heat. He caught with utmost satisfaction the way your eyes widened again, your lips parting to let out a shocked cry; you looked so adorable… so desirable… so vulnerable…

He kept his ever-attentive gaze fixed on you, desperate to catch your every reaction, as he stroked your wet folds and teased your entrance.

“W-what are you… Ah!~”

A tremor pierced him as he felt your body tremble so sharply when he easily entered you, triggering a loud whine from you as he drove his fingers deep into your walls.

His breathing was extremely shallow, and he could see your chest raise and fall as you began panting as well; the sight only served to add fuel to his burning desire, leaving him eager to make you cry and shiver just like that over and over again. 

His movement against you was firm but frantic, fueled by his long-repressed need, which was causing him to shudder and whimper as he fingered you. He had no idea what he was doing, but your moans and squeals were guiding and urging him to keep hitting that spongy spot deep inside you which seemed to make you scream the loudest.

“N-no… W-w-wait…”

Your hands shakily reached down to seize his and halt his actions, but he quickly grasped your wrists and pinned them both on your belly, holding them down with one palm while continuining on driving his fingers back and forth, unrelentingly, into you. He could tell you liked it, the lewd sounds you were making told him as much. He knew his actions were pleasing you. Your cunt was so wet, and your walls welcomed his long fingers with such hunger, swallowing them fully with each push.

How would it feel to sink inside you? To have your tight, spongy walls suck and squeeze his cock dry? Would his cum leak back out? It always did when he used his doll, the one he had turned to look just like you… He constantly had to push his fluids back inside the hole…

“Brahms... S-stop… Ah!”

Your broken whimpers sounded so cute. You were so cute. What were you asking of him? Certainly not to stop. Not that he would or could. The feeling of making you squirm under his touch was intoxicating, a feeling he had just discovered and yet couldn't get enough of. He had already grown addicted. The sight of you laying there completely vulnerable, completely his, was filling him with such a rush of euphoria. 

He released your wrists, disregarding the way you immediately but weakly started tugging at his hand again in protest. Instead, he reached down to his trousers, letting out a deep guttural grunt when he felt the dampness of the material, soaked with his seed. Leaked precum? Or did he burst into his pants without even realising? It didn't matter. His cock was hard and throbbing when he grabbed it, ready to slip out of the restraining cloth and finally sink inside you… He couldn’t wait, oh no, he couldn’t wait anymore-

“I said stop!” 

His entire body shuddered violently, and his senses suddenly sharpened as if he had just awoken from a trance. Both his hands abruptly came to a halt.

He wasn't sure if he was shaking more from the thrill your imposing tone caused in him or the excruciating hunger that was gnawing at him, demanding to be satiated. Possibly both combined given the intensity of the tension that had taken hold of his body.

Brahms stared at you with bated breath and childish fear, like a misbhehaving boy caught in the act of some deplorable deeds by his strict mother. He didn't dare to make a sound nor move an inch as he waited to be scolded.

A strange glint passed your eyes, one that he could barely catch, let alone decipher. However, your entire demeanour seemed to alter abruptly in response to his reaction.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He gasped. A flood of dread shook his entire being and made his stomach churn upon hearing your stern tone. Did he upset you? Were you angry at him? He couldn't bear it. Oh no… He only wished to please you... Only ever wished to please you...

"What were you doing, mh?" 

Brahms vehemently shook his head, his panicked gaze glued on your hard look. 

“Brahms.”

Your commanding tone made him shudder again. He cowered, crouching down and dropping his head on your lap. He didn't dare admit what he was about to do, what he had been doing long before you woke up.

"Brahms!"

He felt your hands pull on his arms, but he only pressed his head further against you, burying his face in your womb, his whimpers muffled by your skin. His hands reached to your sides, holding you vehemently but not threateningly. He wanted to show you how good he was. How good he could be for you. He was sorry. Yes. He was terribly sorry. He would never upset you again.  

"Please…" He pleaded in his childish voice, nuzzling his forehead into your belly.

"Please, what?"

He tightened his grip on your sides and cried again, "Pleaseee… I need you…" 

His meekness only increased as you delayed to answer. His hands cradled your body, fingers clutching desperately at your nightgown and creasing the material. His head anxiously swayed back and forth as he rubbed his mask against you.

"Use your real voice."

Another tremor shook his body and he quickly obeyed your command. 

"I need you."

His voice came out low and hoarse, such a stark contrast to his childish tone. It caused a vibration in your tummy. He could feel how your body shivered in reaction. 

Raising his head to meet your gaze, he noticed that your eyes had widened significantly. Was it because of his voice? The way he begged? Did you like it? He could beg you again and again in his real voice, if it pleased you so. If that meant you’d let him have you.

"I need you, please…" 

His fingers travelled slowly along your sides, gingerly getting closer to your panties again, quivering with impatience and constraint. He kept his imploring look on you as he stroked his fingertips on the damp fabric before slipping them inside to rub against your folds once more. 

He saw your eyelids flutter and your chest rise harshly as you took a deep breath.

He whimpered as he felt your fingers weave into his curls and then capture them abruptly in a tight clasp.

"Lay down, Brahms." 

He merely lingered for a moment to process what you had requested of him. Then he did it. He lay down on the mattress without question. Eager to please you. Desperate to be in your good graces. He would do anything for you. 

His entire body was trembling with anticipation, a deep-seated urge to be touched threatening to overtake him as you climbed on top of him, claiming his former position. His body craved your touch so badly, yet he had to wait until you decided to put him out of his misery.

“You’re such a naughty boy. You know that?”

When he felt your weight on him and your groin sitting directly on his bulge, he felt his breath catch in his throat and his hips buck up instinctively. Only his unbuttoned pants separated his arousal from your heat.

He was losing his mind…

"Nobody ever taught you that's not how good boys are supposed to behave, mh?"

More whimpers flowed from his parted lips as you began to grind against him, painfully slowly but with force. He struggled to keep his eyes open and locked in yours; his quivering hands went up to hold your hips, seeking to control your movements, but you intercepted them and forced them down on the pillow on either side of his face. He let you keep them still.

"Please…"

"I will teach you… Yes, yes... I will teach you. Bad boys never get their way, no matter how much or how long they beg."

Brahms had always obtained whatever he wanted since he was a little boy. If he couldn't have it, he'd take it himself. But he wasn't going to admit it to you. He merely groaned and twitched in response, every inch of his body ignited by your leisurely and frustrating movement against him.

He craved being inside you... To spill his load deep within your core... but he was so worked up… he had been holding back for so long, too long… and the way you moved was so rousing, provoking him just enough to…

His body abruptly convulsed underneath you, a deep sigh of relief escaping from his lips as a dark and large wet stain appeared on the material of his trousers. All of the desire coursing through him reached a fever pitch that consumed every inch of his body.

He had never experienced such an intense and violent orgasm before. He had jerked off numerous times, but cumming never felt so good... 

Brahms was still trembling and panting when his eyes opened again to meet yours. You had stopped moving when he started spasming. Even in the dark, he could see the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes were wide and glazed as they stared down at him, your own breath coming in short. 

"F-Fuck-"

His eyes were fixed on you, watching you as you gulped and shivered, clearly shaken by what had just happened. Your gaze kept darting back and forth between his pants and mask. When he felt your hands release his wrists, he pulled yours back, drawing you forward and causing you to fall on top of him with a yelp.

Brahms buried his face into the crook of your neck. Your scent was stronger than before, his nostrils filled with your natural aroma. His fingers trailed over your skin, feeling how clammy it was and relishing the way you shivered at the touch. He moved on along the curve of your neck until he reached the edge of your nightgown and peeled it down without hesitation, this time dragging it low enough to prevent it from rolling back up. The sight of your breasts made his stomach flip, just like it had done the first time. His body started to become stiffer once more. 

“Again…” he whispered breathlessly as he lifted your torso so you could sit on his lap just like before, straddling his groin. He could feel himself getting harder all over again. He could not possibly resist you.

"B-Brahms?"

His hands greedily mapped your body, groping every curve and dip they found. His touch soon became frantic and urgent.

"Again, again, again!"

He hastily freed his growing erection from his pants and without giving you time to register what was happening, he seized your waist and pulled you down onto him. 

At last, you had become one. 

The quiet room filled with both his and your moans of pleasure, which only grew louder as Brahms started guiding your hips up and down, each time with greater force, allowing him to fully sink into you. You were so warm, and the way your tight walls clenched around his cock was more intoxicating than he could have anticipated. It was maddening. The sound of your cunt slapping against his groin was the the best sound he had ever heard. He mentally added it to the list of pleasures he had so quickly become addicted to and sought to experience again and again and again...

He was a mess of sweat and whimpers and tremors, and so were you. 

Ah, to finally have you! To finally take you as his! This was everything he had ever dreamed and yearned for. You would never be alone or feel lonely again, and neither would he! 

Please you night and day, whenever and wherever! That's what he intended to do.

Oh, yes. 

He will be such a good boy for you.

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[Should I make a nsfw version of my fanart? 🤔 I'd like to try my hand at nsfw art. Let me know if you'd be interested in seeing it.]

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[absentwriterdoll]

What is a doll?

Tell me, do you know what a doll really is? A happy little thing that is beholden to its specific purpose, a specific being - that's what they always say, right?

You do understand how they got to this point, right?

A doll is a doll before they ever end up in their shells of whatever it is they end up made out of.

They don't come into existence trained to seek out Purpose and Stillness - no that happens somewhere along the way.

A person becomes not a person.

They know witches before they even know what the concept is - witches in a different way than the ones we usually speak of - witches that need no magic to effect their ways.

Take, for example, the "gifted student".

That's a doll right there.

Their Purpose is success in education. Their Stillness is respite from the otherwise ire of their witches.

They aren't a person:

They're their achievements.

And, tell me, doesn't that sound just like a doll to you?

[xochimillilili]

Soft loving sex without pentatration is so fucking wonderful. Pumping and stroking each other, as I bite and kiss his lips, making his laughs melt into moans~ Teasing at how easy he is to excite, how messy he already is as if I'm not wet and throbbing, sitting in a small puddle of my own cum already—whispering lewd fantasies and ideas to him as we pant and moan and groan

Biting him as we cum, as I bring out some toys, seeing his eyes light up, both of us whining and whimpering as I overstimulate us with them, all twitchy and stupid, to the point we're both pathetic cum sluts and dumb in the head

[archive-doll]

𝐼𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝑜𝒹, 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 - 𝒦ö𝓃𝒾𝑔!𝒦𝓇𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓃

Author Note: second story of kinktober for me! This one is focused on König, as a Kraken of course, and I tried to give myself some challenge with today's theme. As always, please be sure to read the warnings. Have fun!

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Day 4 of Kinktober : chasing kink / hunting kink

Trigger Warning: chasing prey/hunting kink is not consensual. Mention of sacrifice during medieval times, age gap he's ancient. Sexual penetration with his tentacles. ANGST, but he is very nice to you. König uses his venom on you, by accident → dubious consent. Mention of impregnation, breeding kink. size kink.

It's very long... there is plot, I suppose.

Have mercy on my grammar, english is not my first language, and as always minors do not interact.

You come often, by the river. It often comes from a place of longing, the yearning for freedom making your flesh tingle. Your fingers shake when you take the first step out of your cabin, a heavy scarf wrapped around your throat while the door falls close.

It hasn't been long since you moved into the dainty cabin, at the edge of the mountains. The exuberance of the city, the weight in the air when you slither around the streets, one day after another, became too much. Like a knot around your throat. The decision to leave has not been easy to make. You left all of your life behind, every connection you had - your friends, your works, your favorite coffee shop, the artistic museums.

But, as the cold air slides around the crevice of your fingers, there is no regret in that decision. Your garden still needs some readjustment, and your cabin a few renovations but the constriction fades away as soon as your eyes find the lines of the trees. Your legs shift without you needing to think of it, carrying you deeper into the wilderness.

It had rained for a few days, making the ground sloppy, but your feet easily make way after weeks of wandering in the mountains. You never cross anyone during your little escapades, only noticing traces of animals. Sometimes, hearing an owl, or the scurrying motions of a rodent.

You never feel safer than in the woods. Everywhere you look, there is only the undying beauty of nature. From the branches of the trees that dance beneath the wind to the smell that only comes with the rain.

There is freedom, with being the only human in the surroundings. It makes you feel small but in a good way. In a way that cradles your heart and makes your soul feel comforted because the world is so much bigger than you.

A little cloud emerges when you exhale, your body muffled into your coat. It's not long before you find yourself by the bed of the river, the gentle current like a lullaby as you approach. The oppressing weight that appears with your anxiety, lessens around your shoulders when you breathe into the quietness.

The path you take changes with the day, and the reason for your anguish. Tonight, you take the short travel, staying by the bed of the river uncaring of the mud that is starting to smudge along your boots. Watching the river flow along the mountains, making its way - ever so slowly taking a place for itself through the earth is relaxing enough.

Your nose is cold as you finally see the sea there, careful in your steps as you descend the little hill. With a sniffle, you push your hands deeper into your pockets, not sensing the eyes that follow your movement.

There are little movements that break the peace, creating little waves along the surface of the water, and you innocently think it's fish there or the slight breeze. It's dark here, which gives the landscape an eerie feeling that you relish in. A slight branch cracks beneath the sole of your feet before you step over the rock, finding one stable and large enough to accommodate your body.

A sigh escapes your lips; curling your legs against your chest, you nestle your chin into the creak of your knees. Here, in the meadows, the skyline is visible and you can see numerous stars that shine, their light finding you. It's reassuring, a gentle reminder that the world is bigger than you - bigger than the reasons that made you flee the city.

A splash in the water echoes around, water licking up at the rocks under you. You miss it, the tentacles that emerge for a second from the deepness, and you don't see either the red pupils that catch the light of the moon. Innocent little thing that you are, when the sea comes to great the ground, you simply think it is the tide.

The monster, him, creeps closer. Your smell and the sudden noises are known to him, after your multiple visits. Before, humans used to come to their domain in search of penitence. An old village even offered sacrifices in the hope of a good harvest. It has been years since a human appeared, and even longer since one looking so delectable.

Your cheeks are full. There is a softness in the line of your jaw and a plushness in your mouth. You seem ripe for the taking, with a sway in your thighs when you walked to him - an offering, just for him to have. They wonder, how you will look, with their tentacles slithering along the curves of your flesh, how hard he can tighten around you. How deep they could reach, how many of them they could sink into your body.

You are not aware, when the first tip of its flexible limb finds suction on the rock. There is a little distance between you and them, half a meter, beneath you, so close to its prey. And the sea is profound there, easily swallowing his stature. His breath hitch, watching ravenously how your eyes flutter up at the sky. You look so precious, there. A treasure for him to keep.

You hum in the safety of your perch, the humid wind prickling at your nose. The sea is moving beneath you, its own entity, and each wave is like a breath - it's hypnotizing. A little squeak comes then, breaking the gentle trance you put yourself into, and as your gaze was to flickers down if only by instinct, a burning rope tightens around one of your ankles.

A scream breaks your throat, the sudden constriction making you wail as you flap your arms around in terror. You're too scared to touch it, and your fingers find solace on the sharp edges of the rock when you cry out, heartbeat resonating in your ears. With one kick, the bottom of your foot collapses against a mass, and the rope twitches before lessening, but you can't stop shaking.

"Oh, god!" You whine, stumbling backward with a pump of adrenaline falling from your previously safe place.

The darkness of the night suddenly appears threatening. Your eyes catch forms, and you think you see something there but, there is no certainty in the madness that rises in your mind. The mystery coming along with the sea now is threatening, raising a dangerous need to flee.

The patch of flesh that has been clutch burns, even through the material of your jeans. Your palms fumble back until they dig into the ground, the slime of the earth making you slip.

"Fuck!" You gasp, skittering when your shoulders hit the ground, splatters of mud find your profile, and the air is suddenly taken away from you. Hair pressing into the ground, the rocks are hard beneath your leg, and you groan, immobilized for a moment by the lack of oxygen and the pain in your upper back.

A hissing sound crawls into the whistling of your ears, and you whine, hands trembling. The crawling of the sea is not what you notice first, as you come back to your senses. It should be, really, with how the surface appears to rise, and the water defiling gravity. The tide growing stronger, but no. Your mind, still dizzy from the shock and mixed signals, settles on the shadow creeping toward you.

You hear little sounds, peculiar noises like a clicking of teeth, and see slithering silhouettes writhing closer. A squeak leaves you as you try to escape, nails scraping against a hard surface, the fat of your hips jiggling when you roll to your front. The sight of you, and the softness that they can see as your coat and garment ride create and rumble across their chest.

"Little one..."

You were moving to get on your feet, wide eyes filled with fear flickering across the line of the tree when the thunderous voice erupts through the air. Maybe it's instinct, maybe it's the pain in your joints but you cease - bursts of air passing through your clenched teeth.

Everything in you is telling you to run, from your shaking hands to the prickling at your nape but, for some reason, it might be the need to know, to have a face at what makes you so scared. You're not certain, but you still for an instant, a matter of seconds, and tilt your head back. Your eyes move around, unable to focus after the hit against the ground, until you see slithering strands.

Your brows quirk in a curl of anguish and you think it is your imagination, might even be a hallucination from that previous fall. But, the more you concentrate, the less it appears to be a vision. The slithers are all connected, on top of the mountainly creature facing you. The clicking sound is still there, stronger, and there is a hiss as your hands reach further when you understand what it is.

Tentacles.

"Where are you going? Mäuschen, you cannot leave me."

The shiver is like a knife, skinning you alive, from head to toe when their voice arises. No, you can't stay, you need to run, you have to move.

In a blur, your knees shift and you are running. You are not fast enough or barely, with how your ankle burns and your head still spinning. Still, you try and don't look behind, too scared of what you will discover next time. Because behind you is an enormous creature, bigger than the whole sky, with a head filled with tentacles. A monster in the flesh.

Danger, your brain says, and you believe it.

Everyone knows, that running from a predator is not a good idea - actually, it's not recommended at all. When you first started to live out there, all alone in the woods, you took a few courses and learned how to behave if you ever found yourself in proximity to a predator. But, the instructor only told you what to do around a bear, hell, even a wolf.

What are you supposed to do, around a being that emerges from the sea, with a head filled with flimsy appendages coming from their head? You're pretty certain that simply standing there, trying to make yourself bigger, is not going to cut it.

What is the next best thing, then? Running, your adrenaline brain tells you. Your ankle burns with every shift, and you think it might even be swollen with how heavy your feet appear to be, but you don't stop. Not even when the clicking sound worsens, almost angrily, and you race across the salty swamp.

Your feet slide and barely find refuge on the ground, the heavy rain that had fallen early this week making you stumble with every step you take. The wind is harsher now, crashing through your body and making you deviate your course without your knowledge - until you're rushing along the edge of the cliff.

They are close behind, you can feel it. With every stride you try to take, every inhale engulfing your lungs, you can feel them right behind you. Two steps closer, a breath of distance. The tide had risen, and the waves crashed along the shore as you ran away, avoiding the bushes and the fallen branches.

Danger, danger, danger.

"Maüschen!"

The curls in your brow deepen when the voice growls in your ears, hair now sticking along the lines of your jaw, jeans heavy with the dampness of the air, and the splatters of the sea that reached you.

"No, no! Please!" It's useless to cry, it does not stop the burning at the back of your eyes when you see the tentacles from the corner of your eyes, your body bending forward as if to reach out for safety, in the last moment of hope.

The moment you feel one of them slither at your nape, you yelp, hand flailing in the air in front of you but they find your wrist too, the slimy appendages. All at once, they curl around you, sticky things pushing beneath the cover of your clothes, crawling along the plane of your body - you're caught.

They caught you.

"Sh, no need to cry, little one." The grumble is soft when they press themselves at your back, and you sob in fear, your exhaustion taking its toll on your mind, too.

Before you can process any of it, two very large arms surround your waist, cold and wet hands smoothing up your belly to grasp at your waist - and then your feet are dangling in the air. The tentacles do not hurt, you realize, when they flush you into their chest, a few feet up in the air.

They coddle you with every rubbing motion of their hands; even the tentacles seem to try to comfort you in their own way. They're tight around you, keeping you from fleeing again, but they slimmer along like a caress when you plead again. The ones around your jaw paddle along your flesh, circling it softly, and with a gentle push, it forces your head back, into what you think is a very broad shoulder.

"Shush, no tears."

Pearly tears fall into your cheeks when your hands are being pressed into your sides, preventing any movements. Hiccups make your breasts heave and the fear tremble in your knees. It coos at you again, their grumbling voice so close you can almost taste the words in your mouth until two red orbs find themselves in your line of sight.

"It is okay, Maüschen, you are okay."

It makes you uneasy, to have this creature binding you to them so easily, their appendages breaching your intimacy with how they swirl and push beneath your clothes - even now, passing the band of your jeans to knead at your thighs. But they are trying to comfort you; you can hear it. Their voice is softer now, and their head cocks to the side in a very animalistic way, their nose pushing into the softness of your cheek.

You wail at the proximity, fat droplets aching your skin as they fall from your eyes - they coo at you again, a thin mouth grazing your skin when they talk.

"No hurt, promise."

Your nose scrunches at the pain in their voice, and you sniffle loudly, snot passing your nostrils with your frantic state. The motions along your body leave a trail of what you think is saliva behind, kneading each inch of your flesh they find. Almost in a patting motion.

"No - no hurt?" You repeat dumbly, hands curling and twitching into the binding they have forced you into.

"No. Safe, Maüschen," they indulge you of course, and a cold mouth trails along your cheek in clumsy kisses unit they find the corner of your eyes. The temple of your soul, where they lick at your anguish.

"What are you?" You ask between cries, the little jolts in your shoulders becoming sparse as their hand rubs circles into your belly, pressing gentle pets at your hips.

The snap of the button of your jeans is unheard as they hiss again, and you make sense of the sound when you see the gills by their temples opening with the light of the moon. From so close, their face almost sinking into your own, you see the bloom of their tentacles across their chin and jaw, pink and white suction cups twitching in the air as if tasting your scent.

"You people named me Krake. I am König."

The flimsy libs that spread around your body almost have a mind of their own, as you watch them - him, blinks at you almost innocently. You don't see any sadism in his eyes, no hunger for pain, or anger. Mostly curiosity in how he nudges your hair with his nose to breathe beneath your ear. Slight arousal too, in the glint that settles in him.

You squirm, feeling the tentacles pushing deeper into your pants, some reaching to your knees, others circling your thighs, the suckering becoming slightly harder as they pass by your sensitive skin. The ones along your torso do not relent either; the gestures are more determined when they cradle the swell of your breasts.

"Oh, oh, no, not - !" You gasp, arms tensing into the restraints and he hums into you, their massive frame shifting closer as one circles your nipple. It's wet, and warmer than in the beginning, the sensation strangely addicting when one suckles at the hardening bud with no intention to leave. It makes your eyes roll back at the sudden contact, the eager suckles coating your flesh with heat.

"You are very warm, Schatz." He mumbles, lips caressing the slope of your throat as they bend their neck, your thighs clenching close when the tentacles ramp at the seams of your legs.

"Yes, warm - you, fire, I can, fire!" You gasp, trying to get his attention elsewhere, but you're not making any sense. Your eyes roll back when one presses against the gusset of your underwear, drifting right along the lips of your sex. It's wet, and it's thick as it caresses you, strong enough to make your hole weep and wink at the tentacles battling for the first taste of you.

"Fire?" König repeats, opening their mouth as he licks a patch of your skin, tasting the fear and the tears of your skin, a slightly sugary thing that makes him crave more. It's stronger the more he slinks himself along your soft cotton panties, starving for the solace of your pussy. "Flame."

"Yes, yes, flames - oh god." You squirm in his hold with a whimper, but now, it's not with the desire for distance, or to leave and disappear. Your hips grind down, and the previous burn at your ankle is more like a gentle warmth now, flooding along your legs, which shake and part when the probing at your entrance lulls your mind into a gentle pleasure.

"Little one, cold? Venom makes mortal weak."

A rumbling noise passes your lips, drooling tongue finding the corner of your mouth before König licks straight into it, groaning into you as he suckles your saliva with eagerness. You taste sweeter than he had imagined, the redness in his eyes darkening as he feels the sticky wetness dripping between your legs. Pure ambrosia, for him to delight in.

You barely understand his words, until you do, hooded eyes blinking down at him with confusion, finding König sniffling at your collarbone. His body curls around you as he continues fondling your tits, coat almost half raised to your shoulders, and your mouth part when his thumb pushes beneath one tentacle to pinch your harden teat.

It's a luscious sight, a naughty vision, some half-male half-creature thing, nipping and suckling at your skin into it blooms pink. The bottom of your clothing rustles up to reveal the blossom of your breasts, where his hands roam to accompany the tentacles lavishing your flesh.

It distracts you, the difference in size, your body levitating in the air while being groped so tenderly, his hands swallowing the heaviness of your tits with no hesitation. But, it breaks through the half-conscious state you are in, if only just slightly, and your lips graze humid skin when you turn to look at him better.

"Venom - you said?"

"Yes. In your blood. You're a feast, Maüschen." He groans, tongue slithering up, finding the little swell of the Adam's apple in your throat, before sucking on it. It hurts, but it's so nice, a distraction that makes your toes curl as he finally breaches into your cunt ever so gently. "Was not on purpose, you startled me then."

You gargle at the mixed sensation, the tentacles sucking and gushing into your wetness, twitching and thrusting their way in - one suckling, brazen, your clit. Your hips shatter, knees jolting upward once as he sinks deeper. Your jeans are slowly pushed apart beneath the strength of the appendages, too weak to keep you hidden under the assault of his desire.

"Where is your home, little one? Into the forest?" He murmurs, nipping now at the shell of your ears, watching how your skin shines under the stars, damp with his saliva. Soon, his little one will be flooding enough for him to feast.

König watches you, nodding with parted lips, a hazy sparkle in your eyes as your body jolt with the intrusion, your cunt parting to accommodate the heavy girth of his tentacles. Slowly clenching around each implacable limbs that undulate, in search of your womb. You keen again, hips stuttering upward in the air when one curls into you, bulging out with gentle thrusting, making you ooze onto the ground beneath.

"Good little mouse, let us then, you'll need the warmth for when I impregnate you, Schatz." He groans into your ear, his chubby cock thrusting into the plush of your bottom in rhythm with the starving suckle along your clit. His saliva is already making an effect. Soon, you'll be all mushy and sweet, just how he likes it.

And, he doesn't mind making you run, on the way there. The sight of you, all curves and fat, trying to abscond will help him relieve himself from his heavy seed, which he needs to do if he does not want to burst at the first sheath into your sweet pussy.

© archive-doll - all rights reserved. reposting or modifying, including translating or use on AI, is not permitted. original characters are not my own, but the stories and the writing are.

[fireblossomdoll]

Soapy Treat (SMAU)

Synopsis: They react to you biting a chunk off a soap

Content: Uchiha Madara x Reader, Senju Hashirama x Reader, Uchiha Izuna x Reader, Uzumaki Mito x Reader, gn!reader, embarrassment, fluff, crack

A/N: Izuna and Mito debut on smau !!

Madara

Hashirama

Izuna

Mito

[ecstarry]

@rosekillermicrofic / lips / 323 words / @fromagony

“Hey, baby doll,” Barty said as he rested his arm on the small wall of Evan’s cubicle. 

“I hate it when you call me that,” Evan quipped. His eyes not leaving his computer screen, hoping that if he ignored the office flirt he would be able to regain some composure. 

“Next time try not to blush and I’ll believe you.” Evan didn’t have to look at Barty to know that a grin was spreading across his face. 

“You’re an ass.”

“And you’re gorgeous.” Barty got closer and sat on Evan’s desk. “You look stressed.” Barty pouted at him. 

“I was fine before you started bothering me.” He couldn’t stop his gaze from traveling from Barty’s thighs next to him all the way to Barty’s lips. 

“I'll take it all, baby doll… Whatever's been weighin' you do-”

Evan interrupted with a loud laugh, “Are you using a fucking Dominc Fike song to flirt?”

Barty blushed, clearly caught off guard, but not backing down. “Is it working?”

Before Evan could answer, a text distracted him. It was Regulus, he wasn’t going to be able to give him a ride home that day.

“Fuck,” Evan muttered to himself. 

“What is it? Is the damsel in distress?”

Evan returned his eyes to Barty and saw the eagerness on the man to keep their game going. 

“My car is at the mechanic and Regulus can’t drive me home today, so I need to find a new ride home.”

At once, Barty jumped from the desk, placed Evan’s bag on his shoulder and extended his arm towards him. “Your chariot awaits.”

Evan laughed at the gesture, “You don’t even know where I live.”

“I’m HR, I actually do know.”

“That sounds creepy.” 

“Only for you,” Barty quickly added with a wink.  

Evan tried to conceal his excitement as he got in Barty’s car. 

“So is Dominic Fike okay, baby doll?”

“Just drive.” A small smile adorning Evan’s face.