#MY LOWER BODY IS STILL SORE EVEN AFTER 2 DAYS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harryslittlefreakk · 1 year ago

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so perfect for me

(late night talking part 3)

Summary: harry shows you his softer side on your third day together

Warnings: smut, 18+!! mostly fluffy

A/n: thank you for the love on the previous parts. these 2 are my fave, can’t wait to see where the week takes them!! please let me know if there’s anything you want to see from them :)

part one

part two

my masterlist can be found here!

You woke up the next morning cold and alone. Dread hit you instantly as you sat up, searching around the huge room for any sign of Harry. He definitely wasn’t there. You knew sleeping together would be too much for him, he initiated it as much as you did but in the harsh morning light, it felt like a mistake. Even with the window cracked, the room smelled obscene. The smell of hot, dirty sex was seeping out your pores, and you had a sticky mess in your panties. Just another reminder of your mistakes. You threw yourself back into the bed, thrashing around and groaning. You didn’t even hear the door open and close as you kicked and punched at the soft bed around you.

“Not pleased to see me?,” an awfully familiar voice came from above you. Peeking out of one scrunched eye, you instantly softened at the sight of Harry standing over you. He was wearing an oversized grey hoodie and black Nike shorts, headphones wrapped snug around his neck. He had a cup holder in one hand, two large coffee cups tucked inside, and a Pleasing tote bag draped over the opposite shoulder. “I thought you left, I thought you regre-“, you mumbled, running your hands across your face. Harry set aside the cup holder and sunk down on the bed beside you, pulling your hands towards him. “Hey, I would never. Jus’ wanted to bring you some coffee,” he rasped, planting kisses on both of your hands. You smiled sweetly at this, sitting up to be closer to him. He handed one of the coffees to you, “caramel macchiato,” and let the large bag slide off his shoulder. Reaching inside, Harry pulled out the prettiest bouquet, lavender and baby’s breath wrapped in brown parcel paper. “Got you some flowers,” he grinned.

“Harry! I love them. Thank you,” you replied. You could seriously get used to this sight. Possibly your favourite man in the entire world, perched on the edge of your bed, bringing you beautiful flowers and coffee. It was like you were living out all of your dreams at once.

“Come on pet, let’s get you showered.” Harry spoke as he moved from the bed, pulling the warm duvet off your body. As you turned to get up, you let out a hiss, suddenly realising how battered your body felt. Getting fucked within an inch of your life wasn’t wise after being on your feet for hours, you had no idea how Harry wasn’t wincing with every step. You rubbed at your lower back, padding behind Harry to the bathroom.

He’d already started the shower, giving it time to warm up before you stepped inside. “You need to wash your hair?” he asked, grabbing some products from the countertop. You shook your head, and he came up behind you, claw clip in hand, and secured your hair on top of your head. You watched him in the mirror, handling you so delicately. How could the same man who fucked you so hard last night, be so loving and gentle today? You really couldn’t believe that this was your life. Harry peppered kisses along the top of your shoulders, staring back at your reflection. “Are you sore today darling?” he snaked his hands around your waist as he spoke, rubbing gently at your lower stomach. You winced in response, confirming the damage his huge member had done to you.

You let the hot water run over you in the shower, still not really awake enough to function properly. Harry had stepped in behind you, and was rubbing watermelon-scented body wash all over you. His loving hands were soothing all the aches you felt. You really hated the smell of watermelon, but you’d never tell him that. He was caressing your body so gently, showing you so much time and care you’d never had before post-hook up.

He left you to do your skincare alone, running down to your room to grab you a clean pair of panties. When he returned, Harry dabbed at your dripping body with a soft towel, before holding out each leg of your underwear for you to step into. You stole a huge fluffy robe from the back of the bathroom door and slipped into that, feeling more content than ever.

—

Harry had shown you down to your hotel room after your shower, and your jaw went slack as you looked around. “Harry, I can’t afford this!” you gasped, taking it all in. An enormous bed sat against one wall, a small kitchen area off to the right. There was an entire walk-in wardrobe through a jack-and-jill bathroom, already filled with the clothes you’d brought. The room was accented with pale blue and warm wood furnishings, more homely than Harry’s prestige suite. He rolled his eyes, sauntering into your wardrobe. “Don’t have to worry about that, princess. Haven’t you single-handedly funded my room? Now I’m funding yours.”

He pulled on a white miniskirt as he walked through, pushing the hangers apart to nose at what you’d brought with you. “Which one are you wearing tonight?” he asked. You stepped into the room behind him, plucking a metallic fringe skirt from one of the hangers. You held it up against your hips, shimmying at yourself in the mirror, watching the tassels shine. It was a bright magenta with gold and copper iridescent fibres threaded through. The matching bra left little to the imagination, and truthfully you weren’t sure how much trust you had in the tiny top. You looked over at Harry, anxious to see his reaction to your outfit choice. “F’only I were wearing pink today,” he muttered, rubbing a hand across his chin. “You’ll look amazing.” He came up behind you now, pulling you back so your spine was flush with his front. Harry looked the two of you up and down in the mirror, stroking the tops of your arms.

“Listen, I feel bad that you’re hurting today,” he started, moving one hand to rest on your hip. “If y’wanted to, I could upgrade your tickets to VIP so you don’t have to be on your feet for so long.” You rested your head back on his shoulder, humming in appreciation. “I’d like that,” you nodded, “want more energy for you.”

“Yeah?” he confirmed softly, voice muffled against your hair. “Gotta do it subtly though, Harry. Joanie’s been blowing up my phone about you flirting with me last night.” He nodded, tapping his temple. “I’ve got my ways sweet girl.”

Harry moved to lean against the doorframe, putting his phone to his ear to pull some strings for you.

It wasn’t long before your phone rang, Joanie’s contact photo flashing up as she tried to facetime you. You whisper-shouted to Harry to hide, composing yourself before you picked up. She was screaming when you answered, repeating your name in a frenzy. “What happened?” you asked, genuinely confused. “I just got an email, we were upgraded to VIP tonight!! Apparently they do it to a few people every night. I can’t believe it!!” You snorted at her excitement, wishing you could tell her the rest of the story. “That’s so exciting!!!” You buzzed with her, hoping you were acting surprised enough. “Wait- where are you?” she quizzed, suddenly distracted by the view of your busy wardrobe.

Your heart caught in your throat, you’d forgotten that you already sent her pictures of your previous hotel room. “My hotel upgraded me,” you lied, words coming out before you could think them through. “I complained to the staff, that hotel was trash. So they moved me here,” you shrugged, hoping that would be enough. “Well I’m glad you got moved. I didn’t like you staying there. You know you could’ve stayed with me though,” Joanie pouted. “Show me round your room!!”

You panned the camera around your wardrobe and bathroom, then gave her a quick look at the main room. You had no idea where Harry was so you were anxious to show her too much. She hung up after a few minutes, needing to get ready, promising to send you the details for the show. You called for Harry to come out as you threw yourself down onto the bed. He peeked out sheepishly from behind the floor to ceiling curtain, an amused grin creeping onto his face. You chuckled as he walked over to where you sat on the edge of the bed, stopping right in front of you as you wrapped your arms around his hips.

“Thank you for doing that,” you said softly, tilting your head up to look at him. Harry picked you up by your armpits, throwing you down into the middle of the bed before climbing on top of you. He smushed kisses all over your face, giggling through his pouted lips. “Anything for you.”

Harry’s hands began to wander up and down your body, his mouth pressing kisses into wherever his hands trailed away from. You were panting softly now, your heart hammering in your chest as he worked his magic. You could feel his already hard cock pressing against your leg, and pulled your arms out of the fluffy white robe you’d stolen from his room to give him better access. You were so glad you’d only worn panties underneath. Harry’s eyes bulged as he studied your body, seeming to have forgotten how little you were wearing. His head dived toward your breast, kneading one softly as he licked around the other, suckling on your nipple before releasing it with a quiet pop when your hips bucked under him. “What’s got you so needy, huh? Gonna tell daddy what you want?” he asked, wearing a familiar smirk. “Need you,” you replied, back arching as he took your other nipple into his mouth.

He peeled off his sweatshirt before licking a trail up and down your abdomen, hooking a finger into the gusset of your panties and tugging them down your legs. Your entrance was already smothered in your juices, so wet and needy for Harry. He looked at you through half-closed eyes, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he closed the distance between you. He kissed you softer than he had last night, his tongue exploring your mouth tenderly. Now that he knew how good you could make each other feel, there was no rush to get to the height of your pleasure.

You writhed under him as he slid two fingers into your folds, moving slowly but with purpose. “Let me know if it gets too much, okay pet?” he spoke against your ear, nibbling at your lobe as his fingers moved in and out of you. The slight pain mixed in with your pleasure, almost too much to take. You were reeling from how quickly he had you worked up.

“More, more, please harry. Want you inside me,” you mewled, desperate for the pleasure you felt the night before. “You ready for me, love?” he asked, pulling away to kick his shorts and boxers off his legs. His erection sprung up below his belly button, already glistening with pre cum. Your mouth watered at the sight, you couldn’t wait to have your lips around him one day. He stroked down his shaft, his tip blushing a bright red. “Want you on all fours for me,” he told you, eyes fixed on your curves as you moved into position.

Resting on your forearms, you turned your head to watch Harry as he aligned his tip with your folds, humming in appreciation when he swiped through your juices. “Look so delicious baby, could eat you for every meal,” he moaned, pressing a kiss onto your lower back. His hands groped your ass, fingertips digging in to the soft flesh. Harry pulled your cheeks apart as he pushed his tip inside of you, a moan tumbling out of his parted lips. You’d never get used to the burn he sent through your core. He eased in slow, careful not to hurt you any further. He stilled as he bottomed out inside of you, giving your walls a chance to relax around his cock. You flattened your chest to the bed, allowing your body to open up to him.

Your hips bucked with impatience after a moment, signalling you were ready for more. Moan after moan fell out of you as he started to thrust in and out, “you fuck me so good,” you whined, dragging out the last words. Harry was gripping your hips with both hands as he pushed in and out harder, cock twitching inside of you as his eyes wandered over your rounded ass. He slammed a hand down into one of your cheeks, rubbing it softly after to relieve the sting. You yelped, throwing your hips back into him. He chuckled, spanking you over and over until your walls started to tense around his thick cock. “Gonna come for daddy?” he drawled, reaching a hand around to rub at your clit.

You’d never been this close to your climax from penetration alone. Harry’s cock fit your hole as if it was made for you, your sex bringing you new levels of pleasure like you were only destined to fuck each other. The ball in your core was threatening to burst, so close to breaking point as he slammed in and out of your entrance. “Please Harry. Like that, like that,” you moaned, legs starting to shake and seize beneath you. You were panting heavily, drool spilling out of your mouth as your jaw went slack, screaming out a moan as you came violently on his cock.

“So good for me, baby, so good,” Harry praised, moving his hand from your button as you came down from your high. “Love fucking you raw, knowing you’re filled with my come,” he rambled on, so deep in pleasure that his words were slurring. Your bodies were knocking together forcefully, your juices mixing together and squelching with every thrust. He loved seeing your thick creamy come squeezing out of you, settling at his base. “Want to keep my come inside you all day, have it dripping out of your pretty pussy while you watch me later.”

His words were vulgar, so dirty yet so hot. You groaned in response, picturing it in your mind. No one else knowing the man they were lusting after had filled you up that morning, coated your insides in his pleasure. No one knowing how much he turned you on, how hard he made you come, how crazy he was for you. “Want it so bad daddy, want everyone to see your come dripping down my thighs. Want daddy’s come so much,” you moaned. The use of that name did it for him. How could he contain himself when you were saying such dirty things to him? With one last thrust, Harry was coming inside of you, fulfilling both of your wishes. You couldn’t wait for his show.

—

“What’s all this?” you asked, stepping out towards the balcony. It was late now, though you hadn’t been back at the hotel long before Harry opened the balcony curtains to show you a surprise. Fairy lights adorned the railing, sparkling bright against the dark evening sky. A bottle of red was nestled in an ice bucket, the tabletop filled with all different types of meat and cheese. “M’usually more of a gentleman before I stuff my cock into someone,” Harry shrugged, leading you towards one of the rattan chairs. His cheeks were pink, stained with his newfound shyness. “Feel bad that I don’t have time t’take you out properly, wanted to do something nice.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, smoothing your hair down before taking the opposite seat. “It’s lovely, thank you, Harry.” You felt totally overwhelmed by the side of him you’d seen today, he was so tender and soft. You knew he had you wrapped around his finger already, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You spoke for hours about your families, your homes and hobbies. He snapped a picture of you to send to his mum and Gemma, telling you how much they’d adore you. “Gem’s desperate for me to bring a best friend home for her,” he told you. Your heart warmed at the idea of Harry telling his mother and sister about you, wondering what he’d say. How he’d describe who you were to him. Your time together felt like a dirty little secret, something you’d keep close to your chest for years to come before one day spilling all the details to Joanie. It was refreshing to know he was bursting to tell his loved ones.

The wine had hit you both fast, slurring your words slightly. You were nestled in Harry’s lap now, pressing gentle kisses into every bit of visible skin. Drunk on each other, drunk on the atmosphere. You held a foot up, squinting at it through blurry eyes. “I need to paint my toenails,” you groaned, “got man feet when they’re not done.”

Harry gave a great bark of laughter, sliding you off his lap as he stumbled inside. His head peered around the door, asking you what colour you were wearing tomorrow. He came back holding a little red bottle. He held it up next to his face and grinned, “gonna sort your man feet out. Make ‘em dainty like mine,” he pulled a leg up and wiggled his toes for you as he spoke.

He sat you down in your chair, pulling the other closer towards you. Plucking one of your feet from the floor, he rested it against his knee and opened the bottle. You recognised the rounded top, it was Pleasing nail polish. He held each toe delicately, handling the brush so carefully you could barely feel it tracing your toenails. You watched him as he worked, so tender and careful with each stroke. A blush was creeping up your cheeks, your heart glowing so bright it could illuminate the whole city. You buried your face in your hands and let a toothy grin erupt. This was the most intimate thing you’d ever experienced. Harry was truly perfect in every way. When he was done, he pulled you back into his lap, careful not to knock your feet. His arms were wrapped around your shoulders, holding you tight against him. “Y’so perfect for me, baby girl,” he mumbled, pressing his lips into the nape of your neck.

“Want to take you out properly when I’m done, want the world to see who I have on my arm.” You couldn’t imagine any date would be nicer than what you’d had that evening, but the idea of everyone knowing you were his sent electricity up your spine. You lifted your hand to fiddle with his rings, twisting the giant H around his finger. “Got to get my initial next,” you smiled, pulling a different ring off. You slipped the golden S onto your left ring finger, laughing at how loose it was. Holding your hand out in front of you, you wiggled your fingers giddily. “Y/N Styles,” you giggled before slapping a hand to your mouth. A deep blush took over your face almost immediately, you couldn’t believe you’d said that out loud. You let the ring-clad hand drop into your lap, mortified. “You want to marry me already, sweetheart?” Harry teased, moving one arm to entwine his fingers with yours, pulling your hand away from your face just as he’d done that morning. You stuttered, unable to even try to come back from this one. Your face was screwed up in shame as he turned your head to face him. “Play your cards right and maybe I will marry you. Get you in a big white dress, show everyone how much I like you.” Harry was grinning at you, a true lopsided, wine-drunk, love-drunk grin.

You slipped off his lap, padding inside as you called out, “I’m never speaking again!” He chased after you, grabbing your waist and pulling you down onto the bed in a fit of giggles.

You stayed like that until you both fell asleep, blissfully unaware of the media storm erupting outside your bubble.

part four

#harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fan #harry x fan #harry x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction

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candycandy00 · 7 months ago

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The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 2

You’re a passenger on a ship attacked by pirates. The pirate captain Sukuna chooses you to be his entertainment for the voyage.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Sukuna as a Pirate Captain. Noncon/Rape! Very rough sex! Bondage. Violence. Blood. Sukuna is a cruel, sadistic monster here! You’ve been warned!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! There will be multiple parts because I got really attached to this idea and it was getting too long. Any feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. will make my day sunny and bright! 💖 Dividers by @benkeibear!

Your body was not made to stretch this far, to bend this much to another’s whims, so he will break you. He’s already broken you a dozen times by now.

Captain Sukuna has spent the past four days using you as his plaything, his toy to have fun with and then smash on the floor when he’s done. Your skin is covered in bruises from being thrown around the room, shoved into any position he wants you in. There’s a constellation of bloody marks all over you, from being bitten or pinched too hard. Your entire body is sore.

Right now, he’s fucking you against the wall of his cabin, the soft skin of your bare back scraping over the hard wood as he repeatedly slams you back into it. Your legs dangle on either side of him, his firm body pressed into you as his cock roughly assaults your aching pussy. Your hands weakly clutch his strong shoulders, your eyes full of tears. In this position, face to face, you have no choice but to look into his gleaming ruby eyes as he abuses you.

It hurts. It always hurts. He makes sure of that.

You’ve given up trying to be strong, trying to hold back your tears or your screams. He’ll tear them out of you one way or another. So you shake with sobs as you drop your head, your face buried in his neck.

He seems to like this, to like how pitiful and broken you are, because you feel his enormous cock twitch within you, and seconds later he’s shooting his seed directly into your deepest parts.

After he completely empties himself, he pulls out and then unceremoniously drops you onto the floor. You wince at the impact on your bruised flesh, then scurry over to the tattered, shabby dress he gave you to wear when you’re not being fucked by him. You quickly pull it over your head, eager to cover yourself up.

Sukuna sits on his bed, his legs spread, totally confident and comfortable in his nakedness. Even now, despite how cruelly he treats you, you find it difficult not to look at him. He draws your eyes to him at all times, with his perfectly sculpted body.

He notices your gaze and smirks at you. “You like my tattoos, don’t you?” he asks.

You pry your eyes away, feeling heat rush to your face. “No,” you say.

“Lying little cunt,” he says, though his tone is more playful than angry. “You’re practically salivating. Come here.”

You know better than to keep him waiting, so you step over to him. He reaches out and grabs one of your hands, pulling it to his chest. “Touch them,” he says, looking at you with an expression that makes your knees wobble. You relax your clenched fingers, lightly pressing them to one of the black lines of ink. They feel the same as the rest of his skin, but there’s something lurid about having your fingertips on them.

Your heart races, your breaths come faster, and you slide your fingers down, tracing the tattooed lines. He’s not even gripping your hand anymore.

“Most women find them frightening,” he says, his voice slightly softer than usual as he watches you. “But they turn you on, don’t they?”

You nod, still distracted. Your fingers keep moving down, to his lower abdomen, feeling the taut muscles there, following the lines lower, over the thin patch of soft pink hair that trails down to his hardening cock. You pause, pulling your hand away.

He takes hold of it again, pulling it back to his groin. “Don’t stop now. Touch me as you please,” he says huskily, his face close to yours.

You slowly return your hand, sliding it down until your fingertips graze over his shaft. Gently, hesitantly, you wrap your fingers around the base of it, where the tattoos are.

Sukuna reaches out and pulls your tattered dress up to your waist, then pulls you into his lap, forcing you to straddle his large thigh. Your bare pussy rests right where the black lines circle him. You’re a wet, sticky mess from just being fucked, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Gradually, you begin moving, rubbing yourself up and down his thigh, enjoying the friction of his muscles against your clit.

He’s made you cum over and over again these past four days. Even though you find it humiliating, you’ve begun to crave the feeling, because it’s the only thing that feels good in a sea of pain.

*********************

Sukuna watches his toy grind on his thigh, relishing the feeling of her soft, wet pussy pressing onto him. Her hand, looking so small wrapped around his massive shaft, begins to move up and down, stroking him with careful, uncertain motions. He’ll have to teach her how to properly jack him off, but for now her nervous, shy little actions are cute enough to rile him up.

She has such a beautiful face, even more beautiful when her eyes are glazed over and she’s panting, on the edge of climax. Even the dirty, hideous dress he gave her does nothing to disguise her loveliness. It doesn’t fit her well, the loose collar slipping off one of her shoulders as she continues moving, breathing hard, her body beginning to shudder.

Her lips part, her face flushes, her hand is silky and warm on his cock. And he realizes something.

“Have you ever been kissed?” he asks her, staring at her lips.

She looks away, so bashful even while she’s chasing her own orgasm. “N-no, I haven’t,” she says.

Such a cute, innocent little thing.

He leans forward, pressing his lips to hers, kissing her gently before slipping his tongue into her mouth. She tastes so sweet, just like he imagined. When he pulls back, she’s looking at him as if she’s never seen him before, her hand grasping his cock a little tighter, her hips grinding on him a little faster.

He watches her face while she cums, tears in her eyes, her breaths shallow and rapid. Such a pretty pretty face, all blissed out from her climax. She looks so precious, it makes him feel his own release approaching.

So he shoves her off him, onto her knees on the floor, and points his cock at that beautiful face before covering it in cum. Ahh, this is how he likes her best, how she’s loveliest: when he’s dirtied and defiled her.

She blinks rapidly, trying to wipe the cum off her long dainty eyelashes with her shaking hands. She sniffles as if she’s going to cry again. He decides to have pity on her.

“Go into the washroom and clean yourself up,” he tells her. Two days ago he didn’t let her wash her face for hours, so she seems relieved as she gets to her feet. “Oh, and make yourself presentable,” he adds. “You’ll be joining me on the deck tonight.”

She pauses, looking surprised, but he gives no explanation. She heads into his private washroom and emerges later, looking clean and fresh despite the ragged dress. She’s tied it in places and done her best to make it at least look neat, but there’s very little she can do for it. He finds the effort charming.

“Let’s go then,” he says, and opens the door. She looks at him as if she’s suspicious, as if this is some trick. He’s never allowed her out of his quarters before. He laughs. “We’re just going to enjoy some entertainment out in the open sea air. No need to worry.”

A look of terror passes over her face. She’s probably imagining something heinous. Maybe she thinks he’s going to strip her and rape her in front of his crew, or hand her over to them to enjoy. Perhaps she thinks he’s going to murder her, or someone else. He finds her fear amusing, so he does nothing more to calm it. He simply steps out of the room and gestures for her to follow.

She only hesitates a moment, then she joins him. He holds out his arm to her, as the rich nobles do when escorting a lady. She takes it, but her eyes remain downcast, full of dread.

When they reach the upper deck, the festivities are just getting started. Several men among the crew are talented musicians, and they’re merrily playing their favored instruments, creating a lively, energetic song. Torches are lit everywhere, and some men have set up small booths where they’re handing out food they’ve made for the occasion or serving drinks.

The maiden on his arm looks around in wonder, the fear that had haunted her pretty face now gone. “What is all this?” she asks, so surprised by the sight that she spoke to him like a normal person rather than a terrified captive.

He grins down at her. “We sold off the haul we got from the ship you were on. Whenever we end up with more gold than we expected, we like to throw a party to celebrate.”

Her eyes dart around, as if she’s searching for something. “Where are the other women?”

“In the brig, I assume,” he says as he leads her toward his reserved spot in the middle of the deck.

This seems to bother her, but she doesn’t say anymore about it. Sukuna sits on the plush cushion laid out for him, then pulls her into his lap.

“Just for tonight, enjoy yourself. If there’s anything you want to eat or drink, say so. Just don’t leave my side.”

She nods, looking shy again. She spends the next couple hours sampling the foods he has brought over, but only taking a few sips of the rum. Sukuna himself drinks several mugs of it, enjoying the buzz and heat of the alcohol.

The music continues to play, and many of the pirates begin dancing. The maiden watches them with warm eyes. Sukuna watches them too, then turns to her. “Do you want to dance?”

She looks away, flustered. “No, I… I don’t even know how.”

Sukuna downs another mug of rum. He’s never truly been drunk, but drinking this much does make him a little freer with his thoughts and words, putting him in a slightly better mood. He stands up, pulling her with him. “Anyone can dance,” he tells her. “You think these riffraff ever had lessons?”

She glances around at the dancing pirates, all of them moving however they please, no coordination. Sukuna pulls her against him and swings around, moving both their bodies across the deck as the music plays.

The look of surprise on her face makes him grin. The light of the stars above their heads is reflected in her glass-like eyes. He spins her around, thinking that even the ugly dress she’s wearing looks stunning while flowing around her.

He can’t wait to take her back to his quarters and fuck her again, to feel her writhing beneath him, begging him for mercy as he takes her by force.

**********************

You’re not sure how you feel as Sukuna pulls you into the dance, swaying you in time with the cheerful music. He seems to be in good spirits tonight, and his laugh is infectious. Is it the rum? Or the overall happy and excited feel of the evening? Either way, you feel a bit of relief. Perhaps he won’t be so harsh with you tonight.

At some point, as he twirls you around and then pulls you back into his arms, you feel your own mood becoming brighter. You’re still a captive, still being hurt by him all the time, but your bruised body and aching heart demand that you allow yourself just this moment to feel something other than pain and sorrow.

The dance ends. The music finally stops, and the pirates begin clearing the deck. You feel the brief flash of joy instantly fade away as Sukuna takes your hand and leads you back toward his cabin. He grabs another mug of rum on his way and drains it quickly.

Back in his room, he barely shuts the door before his hands are on you, sliding under the collar of your dress to squeeze your breasts. He’s standing behind you, his mouth on your neck.

“So beautiful,” he mutters, and you freeze. Did he just call you beautiful? The rum must be affecting him.

You can’t stop yourself from asking, “Me?”

He’s still kissing your neck, his hands still groping your flesh. “I’ve been to many lands,” he says, his voice deep and breathy, “I’ve sailed every sea. But I’ve never seen a woman more beautiful than you.”

You feel your heart beating faster. Why does hearing that make you feel this way? He’s a monster! He’s-

“You’re attracted to me, aren’t you?” he asks.

“I… I’m…”

His hand moves down, pulling up the skirt of your dress and settling between your legs, his fingers probing, making your knees buckle.

“Your body is honest. Why can’t you be?”

You shudder from the pleasure, leaning back against his chest. “Yes… I’m attracted to you.”

“Then don’t hold back,” he whispers into your ear. “I told you, touch me as you please.”

You look up at his face. Somehow it seems softer than before. You realize you do want to touch him, but you don’t want him to hurt you. Maybe… if you please him in your own way, would he be satisfied?

Looking away from his eyes, you say shyly in a small voice, “Can you sit on the bed?”

He withdraws from you, and you hate to admit that you immediately miss his fingers. He moves over to the bed and sits down, his legs spread wide. He gives you a smug look. Of course he does.

You step over and lower yourself to your knees, then begin unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. Your fingers shake and your heart pounds, but you manage to free his already hard cock from his clothes. You look at it for a moment, still marveled by its sheer size, then you look up into his eyes as you run your tongue from the base to the tip, along the underside. At the tip, you gently press your tongue in, tasting him thoroughly, before taking him into your mouth.

This is so much more pleasant than the way he roughly fucks your mouth, with you being able to control how deep and how fast he goes. As you swirl your tongue around, coating him in saliva before easing him partway down your throat, you hear him draw in a sharp breath. He’s looking at you with those intense eyes, seeming slightly surprised. Perhaps he’s been so used to being forceful, he didn’t realize how good a slow, wet, adoring blowjob could feel.

So you continue, treating his cock like it’s something precious, beloved. His hand falls on your head, his finger gently threading through your hair. His breaths sound deeper as you lightly suck on his tip before taking him down your throat again. When you feel him twitching, his grip on your hair tightening slightly, you pull away and hold your mouth open, extending your tongue.

It’s an invitation, and he happily accepts, shooting his thick cum onto your waiting tongue. You pull it into your mouth, savoring the taste, letting him see it pooling inside before slowly swallowing it.

A wide smile spreads over his face, and you feel a bizarre sense of pride that you pleased him. He stands up and pulls you to your feet, then quickly pulls your dress over your head, leaving you completely naked. He scoops you up into his arms and carries you bridal style to his bed, where he spreads you out like a meal.

You watch him, breathless, as he climbs onto the bed, between your thighs, and buries his face in your pussy. You can’t suppress a moan when you feel his tongue slip between your folds and lick a stripe up to your clit. Your back arches as his fingers plunge in and out of you while his lips close around your sensitive and swollen nub.

Your hands clench the sheets, your mouth falling open as he devours you. His tongue expertly dances over your flesh, making you scream out his name in ecstasy. Your legs begin to tremble, and his strong hands move to hold them down.

Nothing has ever felt so good, and you have to fight back your own emotions. You can’t fall for him, for this beast who forces himself on you every day, who enjoys your suffering. But your body is singing to his tune, your heart fluttering at even the memory of the dance you shared. What is wrong with you?

Finally you reach release, your hand flying over to bury itself in his hair. He draws back to look at you as you pant to regain your breath. Then, all at once, he jerks your legs up, folding you in half.

“W-wait!” you cry. You don’t think you could handle it if he hurt you now, when you’re so emotionally fragile. “Please, Sukuna, don’t hurt me. Not tonight.”

He bends down and kisses your neck. “Every night,” he murmurs against your skin, “all night. Now scream for me.” Then he rams his cock all the way inside you, fucking you harder than ever before. He’s positively ruthless, ignoring your pleas and cries. In the end your emotions are left frayed and burned, your body battered and bloody.

The next day, you’re covered in fresh bruises, sitting on the floor of his cabin, when another pirate comes in.

“We miscalculated a bit, Capn’. We’re gonna pass awfully close by the island.”

Sukuna frowns. “How close?”

The pirate hesitates, glances at you, then answers. “Close enough for cannon fire to hit us. But I don’t think there’s a strong military presence there. We should be able to squeak by without much trouble.”

“How soon?” Sukuna asks.

“We can already see land, sir.”

Sukuna scoffs and the two men leave the cabin. You sit there replaying their conversation in your mind.

Passing by an island? Close? You’ve always been a very good swimmer. Could you jump ship and swim to shore? Could you finally be free of this torment?

You stand up and pace around the room. You go to the door twice but don’t open it. Why are you hesitating? Because you’re afraid? Or because your confused, broken heart has convinced you that you feel something for the brutal captain?

Minutes pass by as you agonize over what to do. Part of you is ready to run out that door right now. But some tiny part is pulling you back to the captain’s bed.

Finally, you snap back to your senses and run over to the door, easing it open and running outside. At first, the bright sun of the afternoon blinds you, but then you look from side to side. Where is the island?!

With a sense of horror, you realize there is no island. There’s only ocean as far as you can see in every direction. A few feet away, Sukuna is looking at you with a wicked grin.

“You sure took your time,” he says in a cruel, mocking tone. “Most captives make a run for it within seconds. Don’t tell me you were thinking about staying?”

You open your mouth to reply, but no words come out. The sea wind whips around your face as tears flood your eyes. Sukuna walks over to you and grabs your limp arm. “But since you did eventually take the bait and try to escape, you’ll have to be punished. Severely.”

And then he drags you back to his quarters.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #x reader #candys2kevent

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freakspectors · 1 year ago

Text

HELUVAKINKTOBER: DAY 2 - ROLEPLAY.

A Fyodor Dostoyevsky | BSD x Female Reader Smut Fanfic.

warnings ; smut , roleplay , dacryphilia , sex toys, pussy slapping , pwp/plot what plot , religious themes , cunnilingus , mean fyodor :( , reader is implied to be chubby , reader's role is an angel , fedya is just ... fedya , not proofread , etc .

author's note ; HIHI!!! day two and i was already almost behind.. i've been writing all day to get this done , and i still couldn't finish it all in time so I left it on a cliffhanger. i swear, i'll give you all the part two of this some other time .. but for now , take this. enjoy !

p.s - this is the longest fic on my acc as of currently. ily fyodor ...

heluvakinktober 2023 m.list .

You sit on a lavish bed in a dimly lit bedroom, the lights bright just enough to see your unpigmented lingerie underneath the thin, translucent satin nightgown you wore. The undergarments had intricate weavings, each pattern having meticulous designs with folded white wings sewn into them. To top it off, a headband-bound spring hung up the pastel yellow halo on your head; completing the ‘angel’ look that Fyodor worked so hard to put together for you.

As if your thoughts had cued him in, the sound of a door creaking open filled the otherwise silent room; a chuckle belonging to no one but the man you loved ringing in your ears. Clutching the fabric of the comforter, you watch as the demon shuts and locks your only exit, turning to you with a smile of mischief.

“My, what a sight for sore eyes,” he says, strolling towards your nervous figure. “Such a magnificent, holy woman. Might I ask why you’ve fallen from the heavens to speak with me?”

Fyodor crawls onto the bed and places his hands on your shoulders. He was as cold as a glacier, anemia working everything but wonders on his lankier frame. You, however, were plump. You felt warmer than a fireplace with personality that could light up an entire room. ‘A star brought down from the celestials’, Fyodor would say.

“Are you here to tell me how I’m far from free of sin? Or perhaps..” the Russian murmured, his accent rolling off of his tongue deliciously, “you’re here for conversion.”

Fyodor runs his hands down your body, stopping as he reaches your plush thighs. After giving them a light squeeze, the rat brings his left hand up to your chin, turning your head to face him. “Which is it, моя любовь? Do you wish to spread the ‘lord’s’ faith, or listen to mine?”

You quickly exhale, regaining your composure. “I can’t even fathom the idea of a simple man being able to strip me of the lord’s hands. I’m intrigued, mortal. Do tell.”

“Excellent,” the Rat mumbles, gently kissing your soft lips. He handled your body as if you were a glass figure that he was instructed to handle with care. Fyodor’s icy hands caressed your skin, leaving goosebumps with every touch.

Toying with the hem of the nightgown, Fyodor stares up at you with feigned innocent eyes. “Oh, great one, may I please witness your purity in its entirety?”

“Yes. You have proven yourself worthy, my child.”

“Thank you. I will not put your acts of kindness in vain,” Fyodor mumbled. The Russian leisurely raises your garment over your head, stripping you down to the lingerie you wore. He felt his mouth water at the mere sight of your body, taking in every curve and crevice of your form. “Ты великолепна, любовь моя. I could simply devour you.”

And devour you he did. Fyodor crashed his lips onto yours, his kisses quick and feverish as if he was being timed. Not pulling away from you, the Rat maneuvers himself on top of your curvy figure, laying you down. His lips trail down your body, starting from your cheek and briskly moving down south. Fyodor stops at your lower abdomen, gently kissing your navel.

“Oh, how I wish to spill my seed into you. Perhaps our child would be pure, much unlike all of mankind,” the Demon whispered, resuming his journey down your body. Sighing in content, Fyodor stared at your damp, sticky panties, the fabric clinging to your pussy. “Мой ангел, perhaps you aren’t as innocent as you so claim. Такой мокрый без причины.”

You stifle a moan as Fyodor runs a finger down your clothed cunt, planting sloppy, open mouth kisses on your inner thighs. Once he reaches your dripping core, he smiles, then turns to kiss up the other limb. Desperacy boils within you, pathetic whines becoming flat out wimpish as he takes his sweet time, nipping and licking at the soft flesh.

“Patience, Dear. Patience,” the Russian says, chastising you. You couldn’t seem to tell, though, His voice was too sweet to decipher his intentions — something you despised about him. “Is a man not allowed to eat before he drinks?”

“Yes, wise one, of course,” you whimper, biting your lower lip to calm yourself down, “but please, get to your preaching.”

“Right away, O great one.”

Not a moment after, Fyodor licks a long stripe up your clothed pussy, his tongue flat on your clit. Your body jolts, hips involuntarily bucking towards his face. Chuckling, Fyodor peels your panties to the side, spreading you open with his middle and index fingers.

“You see, мой дорогой, in my eyes, not one soul is free of sin. Not even one as holy as yours,” he says matter-of-factly. Fyodor slowly flicks his tongue up and down your hole, just the tip of the appendage slipping inside of you. His pace was agonizing. There was so much you wanted to do to get him to speed up; but you couldn’t act out of character. Who knew what punishment would await you?

“Whatever do you mean, mortal?” you ask through clenched teeth, watching as he ate you out, “such a snide remark shall have you exiled from the eyes of God. I recommend you explain yourself.”

“Need I explain? My statement will remain true, Darling. I plan on proving it to you like..” He trails off, landing one last sluggish stripe up your cunt, stopping right where your clit was. His laugh was impish, a smile full of ill intent pairing with it. He planned to wreck you.

“This.”

His lips immediately latched onto your clit, sucking the button of flesh and yanking a noisy moan from your throat; halo bobbing as you threw your head back. Fyodor’s eyes never seemed to leave you; watching each move your body made because of his tongue.

“Если бы ты только мог увидеть себя…” the Demon slurred. Lewd, sticky slurps emitted from between your legs, slick and saliva briskly coating your thighs and Fyodor’s pale face. The sound of the headboard punching on the wall partially brought you out of your daze, staring back down at Fyodor to see him humping the mattress at a tempo matching the strokes of his tongue.

His mouth disappeared from your clit, only for his rough fingers to replace it. They rub and flick the nub with fervor, yet it’s far from overdone. It’s fast enough to give you immense pleasure; to send you over the edge. If Fyodor was kind, he would’ve let you cum on his fingers — but what’s the use in discussing the “If”s? He’s not. He lives up to his alias, he truly is a monster.

“That’s more than enough, don’t you think, милый?” Fyodor asks. He shoots you a smile, pulling himself away from your body entirely. You shake your head no, pleas and cries of continuation falling from your lips. The Russian’s grin flattens into a stoic, upset expression, and before you know it, a harsh slap is landed on your cunt. Sobs of pain and pleasure escape your throat, your voice hitching. “Keep in character, кукла.”

You choke on tears, a lump forming in your throat. Fyodor brings two digits to your vagina, running them between your folds as if easing out the sting. The kind gesture was a simple facade, as his arm rears back and smacks you right on your sensitive clit. You yelp, hurrying with your pained reply, “Y-Yes.. Indeed. Please, move on with f-further ministries..”

“So hungry for more.. Is the conversion working, малыш?” the Monster chuckled, getting off of your shared bed to open the drawer of his nightstand. A long, purple dildo rests in his palm as he shuts the dresser and sits behind you. He kisses your tear stained left cheek, a small token of reassurance.

Fyodor pulls you closer to his chest, hands wandering across your body. He gives you a few seconds to recover, then slides his thumb through the band of your underwear, inaudibly asking — no; telling you to raise your hips so he could yank them down.

Of course, you oblige. Fyodor hums, placing the soaked garment to the side for.. ‘later use’. The raven haired man brings the dildo to your tight, wet pussy, running it down your slit. “You’re simply too precious for me, a sinner, to fuck in such a grotesque manner. Won’t you let me drag you down to reality and make you absolutely braindead on this simple object?”

You gulp, wiping your tears from your hot cheeks. “Yes, yes you may. S-Show me how it feels to sin..”

@ HELUVAKU 2023 . do not share or repost .

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janeyseymour · 9 months ago

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Unexpected- pt 2

Part 1.

Summary: Melissa is nothing if not caring through the rest of your pregnancy.

WC: ~3.65k

Since you and Melissa have reconciled, things have been moving quickly between the two of you. You’ve had the discussion that this cannot be some little fling- that if she’s serious about being with you, she has to mean it. She assures you that you’re all she wants- you tell her the same. But that doesn’t stop those doubts that you aren’t it for her from coming into your head, especially now that your body really is starting to change and grow. You have the smallest bump that is really only visible if you wear a tighter shirt.

You’re examining yourself in the mirror one day after school while Melissa is in your apartment getting dinner together (you’re craving chicken nuggets and broccoli with peanut butter, to which she looks at you with disgust; she shrugs though and promises you she’ll get it together while you go take a well-deserved nap after the day you had with the kids). Your bump isn’t really all that big right now, but you’ve seen pictures of your mom carrying you. If her pregnancy is anything to go by, you’ll be huge by the end of this. And… you’re not sure you’re ready for that. Your emotions get the best of you, yet again, and you burst into loud and aggressive sobs.

Down the hall, Melissa hears. Her heart breaks- she knows that you’ve been wildly hormonal, and she hates seeing and hearing you so upset. The redhead makes her way towards your cries, and she finds you holding up your shirt looking in the mirror as you sob.

“Oh, hun,” she sighs softly as she pulls you into her arms. The sobs that shake your body only make her hold you tighter. “Sweetheart, what’s goin’ on?”

“I’m- I’m gonna g-get so f-fat from this kid!” you wail. “And then, you’re gonna- you’re gonna leave me!”

Melissa sighs. Not this talk again. “Baby, how many times do I have to tell you that isn’t going to happen? I’m not leaving, ever. You’re mine.”

“But how can you be so sure?” you cry into her chest.

She turns you around in her arms so you can see yourself in the mirror. You instinctively try to turn away, but she holds you in your place as her hands wander down to your stomach. She kisses your temple, and then your cheek, and then she cranes her neck to kiss your lips. “Because have you seen yourself? You’re… stunning. And you aren’t going to get fat, you’re going to be growing a baby. That is such a beautiful thing.”

I’m going to be huge,” you groan as you wipe at your tears aggressively. “My back already hurts, and my rings already barely fit… and I’m barely four months in!”

“You’re already almost halfway there, and you’re so small now as it is,” your girlfriend tells you as her hands trail away from your stomach and to your back. She gently starts massaging your lower back, and you practically melt into her touch. “And when you do pop, who cares? You’re still you, you’re still gorgeous, and you’re still doing something that is so beautiful: creating a life. And I promise you, Y/N, I’m gonna be here for all of it.”

“Even when I’m a bitch, and I get fat, and when I’m in labor and cursing and yelling at you?”

“Yes,” she chuckles softly as she kisses away your tears. “I told you, I’m in this.”

“I know,” you whisper. “I’m sorry… I just got emotional. You know I’ve never had the best outlook on my body, and I- it still gets to me sometimes.”

“I get it,” she nods along. “But I’ll always be right here to tell you that you are absolutely gorgeous and I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Now, why don’t we go finish up dinner together, and then when that’s done, I can help work out some of the soreness in your back?” she suggests.

You nod.

By the time you fall asleep that night, you’re feeling much better thanks to your girlfriend’s words and her magical touch.

—

Now that you’re in your second trimester, you’re body is changing and growing, and Melissa is always there to help soothe the not so nice thoughts that haunt you.

You’re out shopping for maternity clothes because you’ve started to show a bit more. You’ve been putting this off, and she finally told you that maybe you should consider buying some maternity clothing because you can’t keep wearing the same pair of jeans with a hair tie to extend the button any further.

“You think I’m getting fat?” you look at her with anger.

“Honey, I never said that,” Melissa sighs. You’ve been in this mood lately where anything she says is somehow equated to something bad about you. You’re trying to pick a fight at this point, and she knows that whatever she says will set you off, but she still tries. “You’re body is just growing to accommodate the little peanut, and I think you would be more comfortable in stretchier things as opposed to trying to squeeze.”

“So I’m getting fat,” you fold your arms over your (significantly bigger than usual) chest. “You know what? Fuck this.”

You storm off to your room, and she rubs at her temples. Melissa has been walking on eggshells with you lately, and she can only hope that your moods will start to subside, and quick. After leaving you to stew for about five minutes, she follows you into your bedroom and wraps her arms around you.

“Are you feeling better?”

You nod as you lean against her. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” she promises you as she kisses your temple. “Better me than your kids.”

Along with your growing and changing body, your mood swings are at an all time high, and… unfortunately for you, so is your sex drive. Just one look at her, and you’re craving her. Sometimes, you have to wake her up in the middle of the night to help… get rid of those feelings. She doesn’t mind, but you know that it’s wearing her down a bit waking up two times every night to take care of you. She hopes that your absolutely insane sex drive will simmer down at least a little bit, but she’s happy that she gets to be the one to help take care of you in those moments. She jokes with you that you are insatiable. And you are, always asking for more.

—

You’re about twenty-three weeks along when you feel the baby kick for the first time. You’ve felt little flutters here and there, but this is one that you very much feel. You’re sitting in the staff lounge in the morning while Melissa makes your tea when it happens. You let out a soft gasp, and she’s immediately at your side.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is it the baby?”

“It kicked,” you say softly as you lay your hand over where the baby had kicked you. “I felt it.” You take her hand in your own and place it on your stomach. Almost immediately, you feel another little kick, and you look to your girlfriend to see if she could also feel it.

You know she can, because her eyes almost immediately well with tears. “Wow. That- That’s the baby.”

“Yeah,” you whisper as you lean in and kiss her cheek. “That’s our baby.”

When everyone else comes in, there a bit thrown by the emotion the second grade teacher is showing.

“What’s wrong?” Barbara asks quietly.

“Nothin’,” Melissa replies softly, her hand still on your ever-growing stomach. “Felt the baby kick, is all.”

The solemn face that the kindergarten teacher has is replaced with a grin as she claps her hands together joyfully. “Oh, now that is wonderful to hear.”

—

As you continue to grow in size, Melissa is always doing everything she can for you to make you more comfortable- both at school and at home.

At school, the redhead kicks Mr. Morton off the couch in the break room when you need to lay down and take a nap during lunch periods- glaring around the room and daring anyone to wake you. She takes over your recess duties so you don’t have to freeze your ass off or be on your feet for too long. Melissa has Ashley make all of your copies for you so you don’t have to run back and forth to the office. The second grade teacher makes sure that your tea mug is always full, and that you’re always stocked up on the food that you’re craving that week, even if it goes against everything she believes in food wise.

And at your apartment, the redhead has taken over cleaning. She pretty much has you sitting on the couch with your feet up at any given moment, claiming that you overexert yourself at school with the kids as it is and you need to take it easy. You always roll your eyes and tell her that you’re pregnant, not broken. She just hums and kisses you before continuing on with her cooking and cleaning. At night, Melissa massages your shoulders, rubs anti-stretch mark cream over your stomach, and works out the soreness in your feet. That often to leads to quite a few rounds of sex, and when it comes time to turn in for the night, she’s spooning you, her arm draped around you and kissing your temple. For someone who’s pregnant, you’d say you’re sleeping pretty damn comfortably with your girlfriend around.

—

It doesn’t hit you until you’re around thirty-two weeks pregnant that you haven’t put together any sort of baby registry, haven’t thought about a nursery… how could you let that slip your mind? Pregnancy brain was really getting the best of you as of lately- it actually has this entire pregnancy.

“Shit,” you groan to yourself as you lay in bed, exhausted.

“You okay?” Melissa calls. You just groan in response. You hear her run into your room before you can open your eyes. “Babe, are you-”

“I’m fine,” you sigh as you roll onto your other side. “I just realized I haven’t planned any sort of thing for a registry, or a baby shower, or… God, I’m an idiot.”

“No you aren’t,” your girlfriend kisses your head and starts to prop you up. She situates herself behind you and starts rubbing at your back. “It slipped your mind, and I knew it did, so I took care of it.”

“Took care of what?”

“The registry, and you can’t tell anyone I told you, but the Abbott crew is throwing a surprise baby shower for you,” the redhead says softly.

You turn to look at her in shock. “What?”

“I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ else so at least it’s a surprise as to when it’ll be,” Melissa smirks. She kisses you gently as she continues to work out the knots in your back.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whisper.

—

It’s two weeks later that you’re over at Melissa’s house in her bedroom watching a movie while she cleans her house. After, the two of you are supposed to be going to dinner, so you have one of the flower dresses on that the two of you bought.

Little do you know, the entire Abbott crew is quietly setting up your baby shower downstairs.

She comes up around four, asking if you’re awake and ready for dinner. You struggle to get out of the bed, but you smile at her once you’ve found your footing. “Peanut and I have been ready for three hours.”

“We had lunch three hours ago,” your girlfriend deadpans.

“I’m eight months pregnant,” you roll your eyes. “But yes, I’m ready.”

You start to make your way towards her, but she doesn’t come to hold your hand like she usually does. “What? Do I have bedhead?”

“No,” she says softly. “You look absolutely stunning.”

“We’re already dating, and you’re already considered the second mother to my child,” you chuckle. “No need to flatter.”

“I’m serious, babe,” Melissa reaches forward and pulls you in as close as she can. “You are… the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You kiss her gently before reaching for the bedroom door to head down the steps. She holds your hand the whole way down, and as you reach the bottom step, you hear a chorus of, “Surprise!”

You instinctively jump, not ready for that, and your eyes flit up to see that Melissa’s downstairs is decorated beautifully and the entire Abbott crew is standing there with smiles on their faces.

“Oh my god,” you whisper to yourself, hands cupping your mouth. “What- how?”

“You thought we weren’t going to celebrate the newest member of the Abbott family?” Ava asks you. “C’mon, now.”

You turn to Melissa. “You weren’t really cleaning, were you?”

“Considering you came in to this house a few hours ago and none of this was set up, no. I was helping pull off the best baby shower for my best girl.”

It’s a small little get together, but you wouldn’t ask for it any other way. It’s beautiful, it’s simple, it’s perfect.

When it’s time for gifts, Barbara pulls out a rocking chair from one of the closets, and it has a bow on it. “This is from Gerald and me,” she tells you. “I found having a rocker was one of the best things.”

You open present after present, each of your coworkers absolutely spoiling you and your future baby.

Once you’ve made your way through the various bags and boxes, you grin at them all with tears in your eyes. “Thank you… thank you all so much.”

“There’s one more gift,” Melissa tells you gently. “But we have to go upstairs for it.”

“What?” you ask. “Guys, we really don’t need anything else.”

Melissa insists though, and everyone makes their way up the steps towards the second bedroom that your girlfriend uses for an office.

“The office?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

The redhead turns the doorknob and pushes open the door. It’s no longer her office, but it’s instead a nursery.

“Surprise?” she says nervously.

You walk in, and tears pour down your face as you see the small little touches that everyone has put into the baby’s nursery.

“How did you guys-” you cut yourself off as a choked out sob comes out. Immediately, all of your coworkers turn concerned. “Happy tears,” you whisper. “Really, really happy tears.”

The Abbott crew looks relieved at that, and you continue to look around.

“It took us… quite some time to put this together,” Melissa admits. “But we all pitched in to do our best for you and baby.”

“I’d say you did pretty damn well,” you let out a watery chuckle. You hug her tightly before pressing your lips against her own.

“There’s one more surprise that comes with this one though,” your girlfriend pulls away from you just slightly.

“And that would be?”

“Barb?” Melissa turns to her work wife for a brief second, and when she turns around, she has a ring box in her hand. She gets down on one knee and opens the box. Inside is the most beautiful ring you think you’ve ever seen.

“I told you when we first got together that you’re all I want,” the redhead says quietly. “Told you I was in this for the long run, and I meant it.”

“I thought you didn’t want to get married again,” you whisper.

“I told you it would take an absolute freaking miracle for me to get married again,” she corrects you. “And you’re that miracle for me… you and peanut. Marry me?”

You nod immediately, tears once again taking over. There are cheers behind you, but all that you see and care about is the woman in front of you as she stands and kisses you soundly. Her free hand makes its way to your belly, and she can feel a flutter against it.

“Baby’s happy we’re getting married too,” you laugh as you pull away.

She slips the ring onto your finger, promising that you’ll get it resized once you aren’t pregnant anymore.

“If you couldn’t tell, this was also my way of asking you to move in,” she says seriously.

You roll your eyes with a chuckle. “Of course.”

“You hear that guys? We’re on moving duty next week!” There’s a chorus of groans and long faces, but they’re quickly replaced with beaming ones when you show off the ring on your finger.

You don’t know how the manage it, but all of your stuff is moved into Melissa’s house the following week, and you know you’re home.

—

Being as heavily pregnant as you are right now in the dead of summer is no joke. You’re sweating your ass off, and you wish that you could enjoy the nice summer air like you usually do. But you can’t, because if you even step outside of the air conditioned house, you drip in sweat.

“You’re almost there, baby,” Melissa tells you softly as she rubs your swollen feet.

You look down at your stomach as your hands rest there gently. “Get out,” you grumble at your baby. “I’m ready.”

“Peanut’s not though,” your fiancée laughs.

“Should be,” you groan. “My due date was four days ago.”

“They say that first time mothers usually go over.”

That night, the braxton hicks contractions are a bitch. You just can’t get comfortable in bed, and all you want to do is sleep. But this damn baby is keeping you up.

It’s one in the morning when you finally give up going to bed and quietly extract yourself from Melissa’s hold. You opt for walking around the house instead knowing that usually gets them to ease up or go away. But they don’t. It’s about eight minutes before another contraction hits you. And then another eight. And then another. And that’s how you know you’re in the beginning stages of true labor, and these aren’t just contractions getting your body ready- it’s about to be time.

You labor by yourself for the next hour and a half, wanting the redhead to get as much sleep as possible before this baby comes. Finally, they have you doubling over in pain. You know that as much as you want her to be well-rested, you want the support that you know Melissa will provide. So you head into the bedroom.

“Baby?” you shake her gently as you stand on her side of the bed. “Melissa.”

She wakes with a small jolt. “What? What is it, honey? I’m too tired for sex right now.”

“I’m in labor,” you reveal, and her eyes nearly bulge out of her head at those words.

“What?”

“Have been for… maybe the last three hours?”

“And you didn’t wake me?!”

“I wanted to be sure it was really labor,” you sigh.

She’s out of bed and running around to get everything ready before you can even make your way out of the bedroom to follow her. “Honey,” you call. “Slow down. We don’t need to go to the hospital yet.”

“And why wouldn’t we?!”

“Because they’re still like seven minutes apart,” you tell her. “When they get closer together, we can go. But right now, I just want to stay comfortable at home, maybe get a meal in before we head there.”

She’s whipping up a batch of pancakes for you in an instant.

You labor at home for about another two and a half hours before they start to get close enough together that you can justify heading to the hospital. She’s there through it all. Helping you move around, making sure you’re as comfortable as you can be right now in this state, doing everything she can for you.

When you finally tell her you’re ready, she has the baby bag in the car, and she’s helping you outside. You’re fine in the car until a particularly strong contraction starts, and you let out a small whine as the pain hits you enough to reach for your fiancée’s hand blindly and screw your eyes shut.

They get you into the room quickly, Melissa’s threats helping you get there faster. And then you’re hooked up to a million different wires and left to continue this process.

It’s long and painful, and you couldn’t even guess how many times you’ve cursed at Melissa or screamed at her to get out, but she never does. She’s always right by your side and doing everything she can to help you through this.

It’s nine in the morning when you feel the urge to push, and it’s another hour and a half of crying and begging for the baby to just get out before it’s finally here.

“Congrats, Momma,” the doctor says softly as she sets the baby on your chest. “A beautiful baby girl.”

“Oh my god,” you cry as you look down at your daughter. “Oh my god.”

“You did it, honey,” Melissa whispers as she presses a delicate kiss to your sweaty forehead. “We have a baby girl.” Then she stretches out the hand that you had in a death grip through most of your labor.

It’s a bit before it’s just you, your fiancée, and your baby girl.

“Do we have a name?” Melissa asks you gently. “I know we were between a few, but ultimately it’s up to you.”

“Caterina,” you whisper as you stroke your little one’s chubby cheek. “Caterina Grace.”

Those green eyes that you’ve fallen in love with look to you with tears in her eyes. “Caterina?”

You nod and kiss her before placing the softest kiss on your daughter’s temple.

“Caterina Grace, the love of my life,” Melissa whispers.

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggss @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @marvelfansince08love

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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mybiasisexo · 5 months ago

Note

may i request 50 for the drabble game please? feel free to make it a pt 2 of personal trainer yeol 😂 but up to your creative flow! thank you 🩵

Distracted pt. 2 -- Cardio 🏃🏻‍♂️

Part 1 Genre: smut | personal trainer!au Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader Length: 2.4k Warnings: language | explicit sexual scenes

a/n: i feel like you dont have to read pt 1 if you dont want to, but it does add some context 😇. imma be honest...this was hard asf 😭. im not v confident in writing smut lol i get so nervous 😂 im just a girl ok?!??!! but yeaaah i hope it quenches yall thirsts cause youre obv THIRSTYYYY 💦😂 and if its bad just lie and tell me i did good lmfaoo

DRABBLE GAME | MASTERLIST

Two days passed before you’re back at the gym. When you found Chanyeol, he informed you it was a cardio day and left you to it.

Your anxiety soared while you struggled to climb the stair master. He told you to do forty minutes, so he must hate you. You were going to have to get a new trainer, huh? Hell, at this rate, a whole new gym! If you’d known this was how your relationship with Chanyeol would be after taking his offer, you would’ve declined it. Better yet, he should’ve never offered in the first place!

Personally, you didn’t regret what happened. It felt like the shaken bottle of your shared desire finally exploded. Actually, you did have one regret, and that was the fact you’d had only a taste—literally for Chanyeol—of that desire.

Still, you understood if Chanyeol had any qualms about the situation. He was your trainer after all. Eating your client out on company time probably wasn’t the best move. The distance he was currently giving you was telling. He rarely made you do cardio, and when you did it was for warm up. Was this his way of telling you that was a one-off thing? Was he silently hoping you wouldn’t show up? Despite the burning in your thighs, you pressed on even harder, needing a distraction from your racing thoughts.

“Too much?” The deep voice caused your lower abdomen to burn. Checking behind you, you saw Chanyeol moseying in your direction. Your forty minutes was up and you were now dragging your stiff legs to the locker room.

“I’ve never been on that thing longer than five minutes,” you whined. “And I might’ve pushed myself too hard. My thighs feel like they’re about to pop.”

He winced and followed you into the room. You plopped onto a bench with a sigh, closing your eyes and tilting your head back as you relished in your relief.

Your body tensed back up at the sensation of hands on your calf. You whipped your head forward, eyes sprang open to the vision of Chanyeol kneeling in front of you.

“What are—oh!” Your question turned into a moan as his thick fingers started messaging your sore muscles.

“We don’t want them to get too sore, now do we?” He murmured, focused entirely on your legs.

You melted under his hands and fought the little sensual sounds his innocent touch elicited from you. He worked on your calves first, slowly venturing higher to your painfully tight thighs. You knew he had to feel the goosebumps prickling your skin in answer to his ministrations, but he remained silent as he worked, and you wondered if this was his attempt at an apology. Well, you’d take it. It felt way too good not to.

“I’ve never done a day of straight cardio,” you said, breeching the topic of your concern.

Chanyeol sighed heavily. “I thought it would be best for today….”

“So that you could leave me alone?” You questioned.

“Yes,” he admitted. “But not for the reason you’re thinking.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

He finally lifted his head and your breath caught at the sight. Chanyeol looking up at you from between your legs had your last shared memory come to mind, where he was in a very similar position.

A grin lifted a corner of his mouth, as if he knew where your mind had gone, and it only proved the point he was about to make.

“If your pouting throughout your workout was any indicator, I imagine you think I regret what happened between us.”

A thrill shot through you at the word: us. You tried your best to hide your pleasure before the man in front of you could notice.

“You don’t?” You asked. “Because I understand if you do. I don’t want you to get in trouble. I can get a new trainer or even go to a diff—ow!”

He’d put too much pressure on a particularly sore spot. He threw you a deceptively innocent look. “There was a knot.”

You scoffed. He ignored you, answering your question instead. “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, there’s no need to do that. Just because I licked your pussy doesn’t mean I can’t be professional.”

Your fingers curled around the bench as a wave of arousal swept over you. You let out a breathless laugh. “That’s a very professional thing to say.”

He shrugged. “If you want a different trainer, I won’t stop you. I did cross a line.”

He switched thighs. “But I’m hoping you don’t.”

That shocked you. He was avoiding your stare, concentrating on the thigh he was rubbing. You could sense the sincerity of his words, his vulnerability. You knew you weren’t going to trade trainers. It was only the doubt on his end that spurred the suggestion in the first place.

“Why?”

He peeked up at you, his fingers dangerously close to your now throbbing apex.

“Because I like you.”

You blanched. “You do?!”

He laughed at you. “How can I not? You’re silly—”

“I beg your pardon?”

“—And pretty, and mean—”

“When have I ever been mean to you?” You asked skeptically.

“You haven’t heard the way you talk to me at the end of core day. Plus, you have a glare that could scare the devil.”

That made your back straighten with pride. “Damn right I do.”

“It’s sexy,” he assured. “Everything about you is sexy, it’s unfair. And the most unfair thing of all?”

He bent his head down and pressed his lips to your knee. The tender action trapped your breath in your lungs. He peeked up at you from under his lashes. “You taste just like honey.”

“I do?” You choked out.

He nodded, pressing another kiss above his last. “It’s all I can think about. That’s the reason I sent you off to cardio. I feared I wouldn’t be able to control myself from begging you for another taste.”

He bit the fat of your thigh, dragging his teeth over the tender flesh. The sharp sting of his teeth had you gasping, your hips rolling slightly.

“I knew I’d end up here,” he groaned to himself. He stared up at you with pleading eyes. “So, can I? Taste you again? Let me make up for torturing you today, hmm?”

He kissed up your thigh. When he reached the joint of your hip, you shoved him hard enough for him to fall backwards. He caught himself from sprawling on the floor and looked at you in bewilderment. For a brief moment, you acknowledged that your workouts with him had been paying off if you could knock him over now.

“No.”

“No?” He repeated as if he’d misheard you.

Smirking, you crossed a leg over the other. “I think I deserve a bigger reward. For all my efforts today.”

He didn’t comprehend at first, but then understanding flashed on his face. Still, he remained silent, reluctant to answer in case he was wrong.

“What do you think?” You urged. Your gaze flickered to his crotch and a low grumble rumbled from within his chest.

“If you think that’s what you deserve….”

“I do.”

“Then it’s yours.”

You bit your lip in excitement as he stood up. He hovered over you, reaffirming just how big he was. You’d have to tilt your head allllll the way back to look into his eyes. You wouldn’t know though, because you were too busy reaching for the band of his shorts, thankful that all you had to do was pull them down.

He grabbed your hands before you could yank the offensive barrier off.

“So eager,” he chuckled. You quickly swallowed the whine you were about to let out, refusing to prove another of his points. You decided a glare would send a better message.

“Scary.” He pretended to quake in fear before cupping your chin, tilting your head up as he bent down to bring your lips together for a passionate kiss. It’s wet and all tongue, as if he was settling on these lips to satiate his yearning.

You made out for a while, until you grew impatient. You wanted to return the favor for last time. You’d tried, after he tore an intense orgasm from you, you’d reached for his shorts just as you had now, and he’d stopped you then as well. He’d promised that eating you out was enough, but it’d left you longing for him.

With him distracted by your mouth, you slithered your hands back to the band of his shorts and slowly dragged them to his mid-thigh. The action made him pull away so that he could narrow his eyes at you accusingly. It made you laugh, but the sight of his dick took away your humor. There was nothing funny about that. You grew intimidated by the size as it bounced in front of your face.

“What?” he asked, sounding rather smug. “Having second thoughts, Sweetie?”

“Absolutely not.” You wasted no more time putting Chanyeol into your mouth the best you could. Your determination made him chuckle, but the feeling of your tongue swiping across his sensitive skin left him groaning. Tears blurred your vision from your effort, but it didn’t deter you. Chanyeol soon took the reins, holding himself up with one hand against the lockers behind you, his other hand holding the back of your head to keep it steady so that he could fuck himself into your mouth.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he huffed. He decided to test your limits by shoving himself in until your nose pressed against his pelvis. Immediately, you’re gagging around him and his head fell back. “I knew you could take all of me. So good. You feel so good. Shit.”

You couldn’t help but moan from his praises, fighting the urge to play with yourself. The sound vibrated around him, causing his hips to jerk, sinking deeper into you.

He dragged himself out. “Shit. I need to be in you.”

“Fucking finally,” you coughed.

He barked a laugh. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to suck me off.”

“True.” You sighed dreamily. He shook his head and started undressing. You followed suite, eager to get to the main event.

When you’re standing in front of him completely naked, he took a few steps back to get a good look. “Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

The compliment made you light up. It was so genuine and sweet, it made you want to please him even more. “Then touch me.”

He obliged you straightaway. Large hands roamed your body, lips wandered the expanse of your neck and chest before settling on your lips.

Without breaking the kiss, Chanyeol lifted you up to lay you gently on the bench. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it would have to do. He slid you towards the edge where he stood and practically squatted to line himself up to you.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked. He rubbed his cock against your soaked pussy distractedly as he awaited your consent.

You nodded quickly. “Yes. Dear god, yes, Chanyeol! I want this. I want you.”

“You want me?” You asked, teasingly.

“So bad,” you babbled. “Please. Please fuck me. Fuck me, Chanyeol. Now. Shit.”

His smile was so large, you swore you could see all of his teeth. “If you insist.”

Then he’s pushing into you. The stretch had your jaw dropping, had you holding onto the bench for dear life as he found a steady rhythm. His dick had you feeling crazy. Every thrust pushed a moan out your throat, as your head snapped from one side to the other, and words unintelligently left your swollen lips. All you could register in your lust ridden mind was him and the intense pleasure he selflessly gave. You’d never experienced anything like it. Chanyeol reached into your fucking soul, leaving you quaking from overstimulation. You wanted him to stop, needed a moment to gather yourself, but he wasn’t allowing you a moment of rest. You were too far gone to voice it anyway.

Little did you know, you were also too much for him. Too wet. Too warm. He’d imagined fucking you plenty of times, but the real thing was indescribable. Unlike anything he could’ve conjured up. You were beyond anything he could’ve conjured. “So perfect. You’re so perfect for me, Angel.”

He gathered you into his embrace, holding your damp body tightly against his own. Lifting you slightly off the bench, he picked up his pace. Your tortured sounds were now directly in his ear, tantalizing him. His strokes grew messy, fueled by a desperation that bridged onto the animalistic.

“I’m gonna come,” you urgently warned, but it wasn’t enough time. You were violently cumming as soon as you finished speaking. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as you stiffened in Chanyeol’s arms. Toes and fingers curled as your head fell back, eyes rolling. You started squeezing him so damn tight he could barely move inside you.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered, barely having enough time to pull out. He came on your lower stomach in intense spurts that had his hips jerking hard.

Depleted, he fell to his knees, unable to hold himself up any longer. His head rested against your thigh as he fought to catch his breath.

“Holy hell,” he groaned. “You’re fucking amazing.”

You’d been staring unseeingly at the ceiling since he pulled out, but his words brought you back to reality. “I think you killed me.”

He chuckled and spanked your thigh playfully. “Hurry up and shower. I owe you dinner.”

You struggled into a sitting position so that you could see him. He had a content lazy grin on his face, eyes nearly closed as he leaned against you looking so cute your heart started to ache. Feeling sentimental, you started combing your fingers through his sweaty hair. “Like a date?”

He became thoughtful, lifting a finger to play with his cum dripping down your belly. His touch reignited your desire instantly, but you brushed it off.

“I would like it to be, yes.”

You’re absolutely beaming. “Okay. I’ll hurry.”

He backed away so that you could get up to head to the showers. Right before you entered, you turned to him. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

He jumped off the floor, trailing after you with a mischievous grin. “And here I thought you hated cardio.”

#chanyeol #chanyeol scenario #chanyeol scenarios #exo scenario #exo scenarios #chanyeol oneshot #chanyeol oneshots #exo oneshot #exo oneshots #chanyeol drabble #chanyeol drabbles #exo drabble #exo drabbles #chanyeol x reader #chanyeolxreader #exo x reader #exoxreader #chanyeol smut #exo smut

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shiorilizzy · 1 year ago

Text

Yandere Wriothesley decided to punish you

Summary: After dragging you to the Fortress with him, he spoiled you so much that you became a brat. So he decided to punish one for all

Pairing: Yandere!Wriothesely x Reader (female)

Warning: Yandere, Oral sex, Edging, Deny, Unappropriate words

Part 1 || Ending 1 || Ending 2

Wriothesley is a chill guy. Although you can’t go out of The Fortress, but you’re free to roam, talk and do whatever you want inside it. If you want to have anything, he will bring it for you. Even the legendary dessert that Furina loves. He bought a whole cake just for you. He nearly never punishes you, only smiles gently and lets it slide while collecting your mess.

So you become more and more bratty day by day. Until one day, when you shouted at him “NO! I HATE YOU!” when he told you not to do something. He looked at you, silent.

“I think it’s time we need to do something about that attitude”

You were about to protest and walk away. But he picked you up with one arm, like a sack of potato. Ignoring your screams and kicks, he dropped you on the bed. While his legs pressed on you to keep you still, his hands stripped you naked, locked your wrists with a handcuff. He even gagged your mouth.

“This mouth needs to be punished, no?”

You cannot scream anymore. He smirked at your muffled noises. The next victim is your legs, he spread and tied to the bed. Now your private part was exposed. He touched it gently. His cold fingers were covered with stickiness.

“Oh my, this wet already? I barely do anything? Do you really crave it that much?”

He smirked and look down on you like a slut. Your face turned pink and noises came from your gagged mouth. Looks like you were cursing him, he thought. Well he couldn’t understand anything you were blabbing now, so it was not his business. He turned his attention to your lower watering mouth. He started eating you out. He knows every sensitive spot of you. So it was easy to turn you on. Soon, your muffled noises turned to muffled moans. Your breath became quicker. His cold breath and hot tongue drove you insane. You reached your climax not long after. Giving your clit a last lick, Wriothesley sat beside you, he stroked your head softly.

“How was it darling? You wetted the bedsheet you know?”

Your mind was hazy. You whimpered and wiggled your body, signaling him to untie everything. Wriothesley kissed your cheek. Pretending he didn’t see that.

“Good girl… I bet you still want more, considering how slutty you are”

It was true. Your sopping wet hole was waiting for him. He didn’t touch it. Wriothesley took out some vibrators from the nightstand. What was he planning? He doesn’t usually use those… He put one on your swollen clit and one on your each hard nipples. Put all of them on low setting. You let out frustrated whimpers.

“Unfortunately, I still have work to do. So I will let these please you while I’m busy.” He smiled at you as if nothing to worry about “I’ll be back shortly, okay? Be good.”

You shook your head, and your watery eyes begged him to stay, to release you. But he just walked out, not even looking back at you. He is not busy, Wriothesley knows how to manage his work-life balance. He had enough free time to love you, pamper you and set up a trap just for you. He brewed a pot of tea. Its nice smell calmed him down. Wriothesley slowly enjoyed his cup, listening to his Kitten whimpering. Soon those turned to moaning and then frustrated sobbing. After finishing the whole pot, he went back to check on his poor darling.

The room had an utterly sweet smell, you were lying there, arching your back and hip to create more stimulation. The bedsheet between your legs was damped in your juice. You looked at Wriothesley like your savior. Your desperate pleading noises made him chuckle

“Aw my poor Kitten, can’t release by yourself?”

Finally he untied the vibrator, your wrists, ankles and your mouth. Your body was too sore to fight him at this time. You raised your trembling arm, clutching his clothes. You pleaded with him to help you, to fill you. He went back to your sweet part. He touched everywhere but your wet hole. However, you still came, letting out a cute loud moan that he loves so much.

Yet, it was not enough even though you’ve just had an orgasm. You begged him to put his thick member inside.

That was when your punishment started.

“Oh I don’t think so darling.”

“You said you hate me remember? So I decided to give you some time to think about it. If you hate me then you won’t need my cock right?” He stroked your cheek, as if he didn’t see your disbelief face.

He made sure to give you a hard time.

That when you realized: Before you aware of it, Wriothesley has trained you into a slut for his cock.

You missed it, you craved that thick hard cock of him. You missed the feeling it fills you, stretches your hole to its limit.

Days after that, the punishment still went on.

Wriothesley still pleased and helped you orgasm. He can’t let you alone. Who knows what if his Kitten becomes too hungry and starts finding someone else to ask for food? But he denies putting inside you. No matter how many begs or tantrums you make. He completely ignored your poor hole. Even after you gave him a blow job.

Your mind was spinning. Every day you woke up, the only thought was you want the man holding you to JUST PUT his cock into you, fill you up, destroy you.

But Wriothesley kept saying no.

The whole week pass by without his cock, you became mad and shouted at him like a child, saying that you would ask a prisoner if he wouldn’t give it to you.

Oh… Your brain was so messed up so much that you dug yourself a hole again.

Wriothesley’s face turned dark.

“Oh really? Go ahead then. Let's see if there is someone out there who can please you like the way I do. Go ahead if you can find a cock better than me.”

It’s nearly impossible. You have been trained into a Kitten that even you know only Wriothesley can satisfy you now.

“And I was about to end the punishment. But based on what I heard just now, seems like you learned nothing. So let’s continue your punishment then.”

You realized your mistake and quickly apologized. But it was too late. Your hell time continues. You were so desperate to the state that you used your own fingers. But it was nothing compared to his cock. You cried in frustration and helpless. You felt so empty and lonely. Even his fingers would be paradise to you now.

So you started behaving like a good girl: Called Wriothesley as your “Master”, brewed tea for him, ate and slept on time, spent your day beside him, …

Your cunt wetted all the time. You weren't sure how long you can last before you turned mad and just crawled on the ground to beg for his cock.

One more week passed, finally Wriothesley pulled you into his lap, whispering “Will you be a good girl now?”

You quickly replied, you ground your sensitive part against his thigh.

“Y-Yes Master! Please I’m sorry… I’ll be a good girl… I’ll behave… please forgive me…”

He chuckled at your desperation.

“Do you need me?”

“Yes! I only need you! I love you! Please I’m yours… Please…”

You begged and cried

Wriothesley seemed pleased with your answer. His muscular arms spread your legs.

“Mmh… That’s my good girl. You must have felt empty these past two weeks huh? Let Master fill you.”

After these torturous times, you had what you wanted at long last. His cock entered your wet hole, stretching it while abusing your certain spot.

You clung tight on him. The stimulation was too intense for you. You came right after he entered and yet he started to move his member in and out. You moaned and cried because you struggled to accept this happiness. Your brain knows nothing but your Master and his cock now.

Wriothesley looked at your fucked out pretty state: tears and drools were all over your face, and your hole was so warm and soft, wrapped tightly on his cock. And more importantly, you are the behaved Kitten that loves him now. In the end, you’re his Kitten completely.

Part 1 || Ending 1 || Ending 2

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere wriothesley #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley headcanons

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fernandopiastri28 · 6 months ago

Note

hi can u do a one shot smut of oscar fucking a virgin reader gently in front of a mirror with praises? thank u <3

ofc! hope u enjoy :))

look at yourself ~ op81 (s)

word count: 3.5k

Y/N’s head tilts back, revealing more of her neck to Oscar’s hungry lips. “You got second place,” Her fingers tangle up in the hair on the back of his head, “You fucking bastard- you just had to do it at the once race I couldn’t get to in time?”

Oscar snorts, pulling back enough for her to see his expression, “Sorry, I’ll just mess up every time that Uni coincides with a race,” His voice was seeping with sarcasm and fondness. “Next time, I’ll book you out my private jet so you can always be with me,” His nose nudges against her jawline, his teeth scraping her soft skin.

“Osc, can’t do that- we’re going to see your parents tomorrow,” Her hand presses against his chest, trying to create some space between their bodies.

“What, booking out my jet? What does that have to do with my parents?” His voice is bated, no control or restraint within him.

“The hickeys, stupid,”

Oscar laughs, not letting up. ‘You have makeup,’ He reasons. He knows what he wants, and he wants it now.

Y/N sucks in a heavy breath, finally caving. Her body melts against Oscar’s- giving in to what she wants so badly too. “Fine, go crazy,” Yet, she doesn’t give him the option to mark her neck up as her lips meet his- sloppy and eager mouths battling for dominance.

“I love you,” He smiles against her lips, his hands mapping out the curve of her waist and hips.

She hums contently, tilting her head to get better access to him. “Mm, already?” She giggles. It’s only been a few short months of them being official after months and months of being ‘just friends’.

They’d met at a dinner party (emphasis on party) that Liam had hosted, Y/N’s friends with Liam’s girlfriend Hannah, and obviously Oscar’s friends with Liam, and after seeing each other for the first time that night- they both knew they didn’t want to be apart unless they had to be.

Obviously though there was a lot of time that they were forced apart, namely, most race weekends. With her being at university full time and Oscar racing- there was near to no overlap where they could spend more than a few hours or days together. There had only been 2 races she’d been able to attend so far, which made sense given they were still keeping their relationship on the downlow.

“Yes, already,” His hands slide up the back of her shirt, fingers spread across her lower back. “Always, infact,” His nose nudges against hers, bumping against each other when they kiss.

Oscar’s lips trail down her neck, kissing along the skin that’s only just visible above her strapless top. “Oh- fuck, Osc,” Her hands move up into his hair, yanking it probably a bit too hard.

“This when you’re supposed to say you love me too,” His voice isn’t too serious, more joking around and casual.

“You-“ Y/N looks up at him with bright eyes and sore cheeks, “You know I love you, I loved you first,” Her hands move to undoing the buttons of his polo, cursing him for doing them all up like some posh school-boy dork.

“Not possible,” He grins into her mouth, pushing back into her. They end up with her back to the wall and his arms caging her in- typical.

When he pulls back, his lips are dark and shiny from her lipgloss. He drags a rough finger along it, then puts it against his teeth, sucking on it. “You taste good,” He murmurs, dipping down again to kiss her jaw.

The whine that leaves her mouth is pathetic, not sure what to insinuate next. Oscar’s hard, understandably, and she’s soaked, even more understandably. Usually by this point, she drops to her knees and sucks him off, then he lays her down on the bed and goes down on her until she’s had at least 5 orgasms.

Because Oscar refuses to be the one to gain more pleasure from the experience. It’s a blessing and a curse, because as much as it feels so good, it also leaves Y/N’s legs aching and her body spent the next morning.

But she doesn’t want another night of blowjobs and head- despite that she actually loves both. She wants more, she wants what she has with Oscar to seem like more than a casual post race hookup, because it is. What she feels for him is more than she’s ever felt for anyone.

“Hey, you okay?” Oscar’s thumb slides down her cheeks, his voice calm and his eyes soft. “You still with me?”

It’s that kind of care and softness that Y/N craves. She wants to see Oscar in the most intimate ways- more than when she has his cock in her mouth and he’s weak at the knees and rough with his hands in her hair.

“Let’s have sex,” The sentence tumbles out of her mouth before she can word it more elegantly, “Tonight,”

Oscar’s mouth drops into an O, his pearly white bottom row of teeth only just in view. His eyes are dark and wide- his expression unreadable. “Really?”

“Yes, god, a million times yes,” Her hands hitch up the back of his shirt, her fingers dipping into the taut muscles across the back of his waist. “Please, Osc, I’m ready,”

Oscar has this look of panic and discern spread across his beautifully masculine features, yet buried below, he’s excited- he’s fucking thrilled. This has been a long time coming, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

“You’re absolutely sure?” Y/N fights back the urge to roll her eyes at his intense need for reassurance. It is sweet though, she’ll give him that. Better than the opposite of him acting without permission.

“I am absolutely sure,”

“You tell me if we need to stop, okay?” His fingers drag along her forearms, cold fingertips along hot skin. “We’ll use the light system. Green if you want me to keep going, orange if you want me to change something, red if I need stop,”

He doesn’t move an inch until she gives him confirmation that she understands, “Gotcha, go for green,” She visibly cringes at her own words, but Oscar doesn’t quite catch it.

“Go for green,” He nods, laughing to himself. “Yeah, indeed,” One of his hands squeezes into her waist, his thumb pressing into her front so hard Y/N’s sure she’ll have a purple oval bruise as evidence of this tomorrow morning.

Their mouths slot in together, as naturally as they have every time they’ve kissed before. This time though, it’s different, they’re about to have sex.

Sex for the first time together, sex for the first time ever for her.

“Is it gonna hurt?” She whispers into his mouth, worrying the words might disappear into the dark and wet heat.

Oscar pauses, his other hand drifting through her hair with a feather soft touch, “It might,” He replies truthfully, “It won’t be intentionally, but it’s your first time- so it might be painful,” His thumb rubs continuous circles into her hip.

“You tell me if it hurts- okay?” His head tilts enough for his eyes to each the same level as Y/N’s. “Red light, remember?”

“Red light if it hurts,”

“Good girl,” Butterflies swarm her stomach at how prettily it comes out of his mouth. It’s not in a weird and kinky way, but genuine and full of love.

Oscar’s hand that was in her hair moves down to her skirt, which is too long to hitch up, so his thumb runs down along her inner thigh through the silk material. He applies just a bit of pressure, enough to where his fingertips hit the soaked material of her panties.

Oscar bites down on his lips, his eyebrows tightly knotted together- it’s his concentration face, sans his tongue poking out between his lips. “You can take it off,” Her voice barely hits his ears, but it’s enough.

He hooks his index fingers into the waistband, tugging it down. It pools around her feet, her body running cold without the addition of her skirt on her body. “Beautiful,” Oscar murmurs, kneeling down in front of her. “May I?”

Y/N nods, her lips pressed tightly together as to not puke all over Oscar. She’s never been more nervous.

Oscar’s tongue laps along the wet material of her panties, his eyes huge as he stares up at her. He would happily spend the rest of his days like this, hours between her legs without a single interruption from the outside world.

On any other day, she’d be content with this. She’d be happy to just get off on this, being forced to walk around on shaky legs the next day, but it’s different tonight. She has her heart set on having sex, and she’s not a force to be reckoned with.

Please, Osc,” The voice that comes out of her own mouth is unfamilar, so much more desperate than she’s ever been. “Need you ‘nside me,”

A switch seems to flick in Oscar’s mind- determind and chasing for victory, his mindset in the car. He’s back up on his feet before she can blink, his hands gripping the backs off her thighs as he picks her up with one smooth movement.

“God, you taste like heaven,” He suckles on her neck, his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass while her legs wrap around his waist.

On the track, Oscar is patient and calculated, he knows how to control himself. It’s what makes him such a great driver- makes him world champion material. But of it, when he’s with Y/N, his brain goes white hot, unable to string a coherent thought beyond her, her, her.

Especially now, when he’s about to be inside her.

One of his thumbs nudges against her clothed clit, and her back arches automatically. “Fuck, need these off you,” He murmurs, unable to stay occupied with one part of her still for more than. a single moment as he makes the way into his hotel room.

He’s got one hand permanently planted on her ass, keeping her upright, while his other hand slides her top over his head and tosses it across the room, and his hand goes back down to rub her clit. He fiddles with the door handle, finally getting it open after far too much effort.

He lays her down on the bed, kneeling hovering above her. One of his knees rests directly between her thighs, his elbows on either side of her head. His mouth is hot on hers, wetter and more intense with each tug his teeth makes on her bottom lip. “Are you trying to consume me or something?” Her arms gently wrap around the back of his neck, laughing to force away the nerves.

Oscar calms down, grinning against her mouth. “Sorry,” His cheeks are hot to the touch, flushed across his nose. “Just, wow, you,” He doesn’t have to say another word, his bright eyes are enough indication of how fond he is.

He fumbles with the button of his jeans, tugging down the tight material. Y/N isn’t one for liking skinny jeans on men, but Oscar might be the only exception in the world. His muscular thighs straining against the dark fabric, and his perfect ass, yeah- wow.

One of his hands tugs his jeans fully off, tossing them off somewhere in the dark room, while his other hand sneaks under her shoulders and unsnaps the clasp of her bra in one swift move.

Just a reminder that he’s much more experienced in this field then she is. In all fairness, before Y/N, he’d had one girlfriend back in highschool, so it’s not like she’s having her first time with a guy who’s been with a million girls- but it’s equally as daunting.

He pulls it off, biting his bottom lip at the sight of her bare chest, “I’m a weak man,” He groans, dipping his head to wrap his pink lips around one of her nipples, the bud immediately hardens in his mouth.

“Shi- Oscar, fuck,” Her vocabulary is pretty damn limited tonight to different variations of his name and curses. Her hips rut up against his shamelessly, like a dog in heat.

Oscar grounds his thigh into her cunt, letting her rub up against it. “Yeah, so good baby, use it,” He nods against her shoulder, kissing her cheek and jaw. “So good for me, baby,”

Y/N is about to cum, she’s so sure of it. It’s so embarrassing, humping her boyfriend’s leg, once again- like a dog. “Osc,”

“It’s okay, baby, just let it out,” His voice is the only thing keeping her from fucking falling into pieces right now. The tight coil in her stomach goes warm and the same heat spreads across her already damp underwear.

“Fuck,”

Oscar tugs her underwear down, scrunching them up in his palm and tucking them under his pillow. Dirty dog was probably going to use them later to get off.

His eyes go bright at the sight of her spent and exposed cunt, as if it’s his first time ever seeing one. “I love you,” He whispers, scooting down so he’s face to face with her heat again. “I love you, baby, so much.” He kisses along her inner thighs, up to the neatly cut hair over her sex.

“Not just because we’re-“

“Don’t say that, you know it’s not just because we’re about to make love,” He looks up at Y/N with big round eyes and an earnest expression, “Because I love you, and I want to make you happy,”

“I love you too,” Her thumb flicks a curl off his forehead, idly wrapping another lock around her index finger. She stares up at the ceiling, trying to imagine how this is going to play out.

Oscar’s taking a while, she thinks, but maybe that’s how it’s supposed to go. He’s not fingering her, or using his mouth, he’s just staring at her cunt, the air out of his nose cold against it.

That is until the click of a tube lid breaks the silence, then a squirt, then the whiny groan of Oscar’s moans. Oh, lube. Oscar’s touching himself.

He’s getting ready for her, he’s getting ready to be inside of her. Her insides go warm and her skin goes clammy, she’s not scared- she’s just.. it’s a lot.

“Baby?” Oscar hums, his lips unmoving against her inner thigh. The saliva from his prior kisses in that spot begin to dry over, sticky and unpleasant. “I’m gonna touch you now, alright?”

When he doesn’t receive a proper response, his lays his palm out on her stomach, “Colour?”

“Green,”

“Good,” A slicked up finger slides past her tight walls, her body loosening around the invasion. It feels better than when she does it to herself- Oscar’s fingers are thicker and longer, more experienced, embarrassingly enough.

Oscar moves his body so he’s hovering over her again, his hair falling over his face as he looks down at her. She could cry, it’s so much all at once.

The finger pushes all the way in until the last knuckle, then out, then back in again, pulling a string of whines from her mouth. Oscar swallows each moan up eagerly, smirking proudly. “Please, more,” Her eyes flutter between open and closed, unable to keep herself looking at his smug expression for more than two seconds- she might cum if she does.

Oscar nods once, retracting the finger and sliding in one next to it. It burns slightly, nothing too painful or uncomfortable, but nice. It feels good, hot and pleasantly tingly.

Oscar’s free hand drifts over her hair as he pulls his fingers out, the wetly lubed up hand moves to stroke his cock a final few times, before he nudges the head against her hole. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Then it all goes quiet. Oscar pushes inside with one swift move, his hands framing her face, his lips on hers. It doesn’t feel like anything she’d get before- there’s nothing to compare it to. It’s a lot about the heat of it, the coldness even. Her blood feels cold inside of her, hot flesh keeping it in.

It feels amazing. “Oscar,” She moans, pushing her ass down and curving her back up. She knew Oscar was big, she’s felt it pulsing inside of her cupped hand, she’s felt it in her mouth- but it’s completely different properly inside.

Oscar seems captivated by the twitch of her face and body, the way her eyes open to only reveal the whites, the way her mouth hangs awkwardly open as she tries to find something to say. “I want you to see yourself,” Oscar hums, his nose nudging against her cheek, his hips dragging back and forth.

“Can I?” Her eyes narrowed, hazily and blissed out. Based on how Oscar was acting, she must look good, plus, she’d love to see the full image of him inside her. Her head turns to look at the full length mirror across the foot of the bed, ideas lighting up in her mind.

Oscar pulls out, pecking at her lips when she whines at the loss. “Onto your hands and knees, face the mirror,” He instructs her, turning on one of the bedside lamps. It’s dim, only enough to help her see herself vaguely when she rolls onto her stomach.

“Tired?” Oscar laughs as he watches her lay there unmoving, feeling spineless and weak. She groans, looking over her shoulder at him. His arms are crossed over his chest, his body pale and thick with muscle. His features are delicately crafted, he’s beautiful. “Here we go,” His arms move to scoop her up, manhandling her into the exact position he wants.

Then he kneels between her, and before he even pushes back in, her eyes go wide. Oscar’s got both hands gripping her hips, pulling them back towards him, his thumbs pressing into the curve of her ass. His hair curls over his forehead, floppy and uncontrolled. His face glows with a healthy sex brightness- if that’s even a thing.

He looks bright and perfect, she looks wrecked. Her lip gloss is smudged, bits of it rubbing onto Oscar’s neck, her tits are marked up with pink bites and bruises, her hair is a mess.

It’s an Oscar mess, she’s been ruined by Oscar. “God, you’re so pretty,” His face moves next to hers, his eyes meeting hers in the reflection in the mirror. “Can’t believe this is real,” He sounds a bit starstruck.

“Can’t believe you’re real,” She bites her bottom lip, turning her head so their noses touch. “Cmon, Oscar, fuck me already,” The grin on her face can’t leave, it’s permanently indented on her.

“Okay,” His lips curl up, his hips nudging forward until he’s fully inside of her. His back straightens up, leaning back as he thrusts in and out of ehr, “Fuck, you’re so… so beautiful,” He hums, smoothing his palms over her back.

Y/N cranes her neck to make eye contact with her reflection, groaning at the sight. It’s perfect, Oscar looks perfect. He keeps telling her she does too, so maybe he’s right.

She moans with each movement he makes, “Osc, Osc,” She’s chasing her high, and he’s helping her towards it. Oscar places his thumb under her chin, tilting her head back enough that when he leans over, their mouths meet in a clash of spit and teeth.

It’s probably the most awkward kiss they’ve ever had, but it feels like pure ecstasy. “You feel so good,” Praises seem to spill from his mouth, his lips kissing along her shoulders from behind. “Look at yourself, what a sight,”

She does, her head tilts back down to look in the mirror- watching him go in and out, consuming each bit of her. Soon enough, he reaches a hand down in between her upper thighs, two of his fingers rubbing against her aching clit.

A burning white sensation feels her body as the tightness in her stomach releases, her back arching into him and a whine pulls from the back of her throat.

She doesn’t register when Oscar finishes, only when he pulls out and lays her down. “You were so good,” He whispers, breath heavy against her ear. He leaves for only a moment, returning with a damp cloth to clean her off. “How was that?” Each movement is soft and calculated, soothing to her worn out body.

“So good,” Her smile is probably stupidly dopey, but she couldn’t care less- she feels amazing.

“You were perfect, always are,” He dips in to kiss her lips, scooping her up. “Let’s take a bath, yeah?”

She doesn’t respond, just buries her face into his chest and goes quiet. He doesn’t need her words, just seeing her tired smile on her face is enough.

#oscar piastri #smut #f1 #formula1 #mclaren #rpf #mirror #op81 x reader

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lycandrophile · 1 year ago

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i’m getting my drains out tomorrow and i’m sure things will be different after they’re gone, so here’s my observations about top surgery recovery as of 6 days post-op!

(click here for my first post, from 3 days after)

something i forgot to mention in my last post is that if they tell you a medication has to be taken with food, do not fuck with that. absolutely do not. my antibiotic had to be taken with food and on day 2, i thought “well, i just had breakfast not too long ago, surely that’s close enough and i’ll be fine” and my parents agreed, but guess what? i spent the next hour in hell. the meds made me nauseous so i had to eat, but eating still hurt a lot because of the sore throat from being intubated, so trying to make it better just caused me more pain. and both the sore throat and the nausea (which i guess was as much a heartburn sort of situation as it was nausea) were both very chest-adjacent feelings, so that on top of the usual pain and discomfort from surgery was just a perfect storm of horrible things all centralized to one part of my body. it was awful, and i will never fuck around with something like that again. that being said, if you do find yourself in that situation or are just looking for something light that will still do the job because you’re not that hungry, 10/10 would recommend oatmeal and apple sauce. apple sauce is what finally got my body to stop rioting against me and my bad decisions, and after that i started always taking it halfway through a bowl of oatmeal and that worked perfectly.

on day 4, i was able to sit up and get out of bed by myself for the first time! i still can’t do it just by using my core muscles, but if i hold onto my legs and lower them, i can sort of roll myself up into a sitting position without using any of the affected muscles too much.

on day 5, the sore throat from hell that being intubated gave me finally went away! cheers to not gripping my pillow in pain every two seconds while i swallow my spit anymore. it lasted a while, but it honestly went away pretty fast — on day 4 it was a bit better than it had been, and then the next day it was just gone.

also on day 5, i really started to feel the bandages digging into my armpits. i’m not sure if it’s because the bandage has been slipping up over time, if my armpits have some extra swelling now, or if it’s just been wearing my body down over time, but it feels like it’s starting to cut off circulation at a certain point and it makes my arms ache sometimes. that’s probably not great, but the surgeon will be redoing everything at my post-op anyway so i’ve just been riding it out until then. in the meantime, i can tell it’s definitely worse when i’m sitting back and kind of slouched (because that position pushes it up more), so i try to sit up or walk around when i feel it. having pillows on either side of me to put my elbows up on definitely also helps a lot — that’s how i’ve been sleeping, but it would be good for just sitting too.

also also on day 5, i started getting this weird fluttery feeling in the spot where the left side of my chest and the meat of my left armpit connect. it feels like it’s probably some sort of muscle spasm. it’s not painful at all, but i honestly wish it was because it’s just super weird and uncomfortable instead and i hate it. it genuinely might be my least favorite out of any pains or sensations i’ve had so far. luckily, though, it seems like it’s already died down and only happened a couple times today.

my energy has been all over the place. i’m at the point now where mentally i’m much closer to my normal state so i’m once again having the adhd urge to constantly do stuff, but my body’s ability to keep up is far less consistent. sometimes i get restless and can just get up and pace around for a while, but other times i try to do that and get really quickly exhausted. i’m definitely more able to have conversations and feel more like myself now though, even when my body is tired out.

i’ve been thirsty as all hell the past few days. i feel like i’m constantly asking my boyfriend to refill my water for me because i drain it so fast. it’s a very specific kind of thirst, too — like it never quite goes away even when i’m definitely very thoroughly hydrated, and like anything but water can’t even touch it. it’s not a bad thing, getting lots of fluids after surgery is important and i wouldn’t be surprised if that’s exactly why my body is doing it, but it is a bit frustrating to just be incessantly thirsty for days at a time.

my walking posture is getting straighter every day. i still have to hold my chest to walk because of the bandage feeling like it drags things down, but if i’m walking with my mastectomy pillow, it mostly just looks like a typical slouch and not the deep hunch i started with.

at this point, my chest is super sensitive to any kind of movement, and that’s the other thing the pillow has been really good for at this stage. if the bandage shifts at all, if my body moves at all, basically anything — i feel it all in my chest really intensely. it’s not always painful, but it isn’t comfortable either. holding the pillow to my chest helps stabilize things so the movement doesn’t reach the sensitive parts as much, which is really great.

walking up stairs is easier than walking down stairs, which is the exact opposite of what i would’ve guessed. from what i can tell just from moving around, i think it’s because bending your legs up to a higher step pretty solidly relies on your legs and lower core muscles to make it happen, while reaching your legs down to a lower step requires stretching your body out (which is famously not your body’s favorite thing to do after top surgery). it often feels like i almost can’t reach the step below and have to just barely catch it with the balls of my feet. it’s also just generally been good to take the stairs super slow going up or down because you really can’t use the railing — putting enough weight on it to really rely on it at all requires using chest muscles, so the best i’ve been able to do is just rest my hand on it in case of emergency (because i’d rather hurt my chest than crack my head open if it comes to that).

one of the things that makes the stairs hard is that my center of balance is off from hunching, and that definitely affects my walking too. it’s less pronounced now that i’m in the habit of using the pillow to walk straighter, but i have to take shorter strides and sort of shuffle around because longer strides need better balance, and even with the shuffle i’m stumbling more than usual. i already have some balance problems so i’m pretty used to the feeling of it, but it has freaked my parents out a couple times to see me start listing to one side before i catch myself.

fuck reflexes. reflexes are the actual worst. something i didn’t anticipate is that no matter how careful you are to not reach your arms too far or move them too fast, you can never totally account for what you do if something starts falling. a few times now, i’ve definitely reached too far or fast before stopping myself because i saw something about to go down and my brain instinctively told my hands to catch it. i’m not sure if there’s anything you can really do about that, but it’s worth being aware of because it caught me by surprise the first time i did it.

one side of my chest has been consistently more swollen than the other. that side has also consistently drained less, and the fluid it does drain is darker and redder. we asked my surgeon if that was normal and she said there’s almost always one side that drains more than the other, but it’s still something we’ve been keeping an eye on. hopefully i’ll be able to get a more concrete answer at my post-op, once she can see the swelling up close and look at the drainage numbers from the past week.

as i’ve been getting some use of my body back, the pain in my chest has gotten a bit more obvious. it’s milder pain, and when i’m not doing anything it’s mostly painless to the point where i’m going a lot longer between tylenol doses, but when i’m using my body, i can definitely feel it. the fact that i’m not avoiding physical activity like the plague as much means i’m noticing more pain even though objectively my pain levels have gone down — the things that hurt now didn’t hurt less before, i just didn’t even attempt them before because i knew they would hurt so much. now that the pain is down, i can try more things, which means i’m more likely to try something that ends up hurting. of course, you should always try to follow the if-it-hurts-then-stop rule, but you can’t avoid the pain altogether as you learn your body’s boundaries, so i ended up getting to a point where getting better feels like getting worse.

on that note, i’ve also learned that there’s a pretty distinct difference between milder “i should proceed with caution” pain and intense “stop what you’re doing right now” pain. as much as avoiding things that hurt is ideal, it’s not always realistic, but my body has definitely been very clear in telling me what i can and can’t compromise on. in the beginning i was really paranoid about doing anything that caused any pain at all, but now i’m more familiar with where i can push a bit further if needed and where i really need to hold off.

i’ve been getting chills much more easily lately, and they’ve also been SUPER strong. i’ll be watching a show or listening to music and something will give me chills, and it’s a really intense feeling all across my ribs, and even thinking about the thing that caused it brings on a whole new wave. i’m super curious to see if it’s just a temporary result of my nerves doing their thing or if it’ll stick around long-term. it’s not unpleasant at all, i honestly really like it.

i got some food for myself for the first time today (day 6) and it just involved slicing some pretty soft cheese, but wow, it was a workout for my shoulder. i’m guessing it’s because i haven’t really used my muscles in that way for a week, and because not being able to use my chest muscles means i was relying on my shoulder a lot more to do all the work of moving my arm. by the time i was done, just holding the block of cheese to put it back in the fridge felt like lifting weights.

i didn’t change my shirt the first few days but i’ve changed a few times now, and we’ve perfected the art of getting a button up shirt on me without overreaching my arms at all. basically, you want to put both arms into the sleeves before you lift the shirt up onto your shoulders, because once the shirt is on one shoulder, you have to reach back a lot farther to get to the other sleeve. once you have both arms in, you can lift it onto your shoulders and button it. ideally, whoever’s helping you should do most of the work to pull the sleeves over your arms so you don’t have to stretch your arm out to get them on. i’m sure that’ll be overkill once i have a bit more mobility, but for now, it works great. it definitely would be tough if the shirt was fitted though, so i’m glad i went up a size.

i hope my posts like this have been helpful, or at least interesting to read! i’ll definitely keep updating as time goes on and things change, and i’m also going to work on a breakdown of my experience at the hospital pre- and post-op, as well as my post-op appointment experience once that happens tomorrow.

y’all are getting the good, the bad, and the ugly of my recovery experience. i know a lot of this has been very focused on the bad and the ugly so far because surgery is generally rough, but i’m going to see my chest again tomorrow so stay tuned for some good!

#bet you weren’t expecting an even longer post than my last one #i just have so much to say about this whole experience #i want to document EVERYTHING especially the stuff i haven’t seen other people mention #top surgery adventures #top surgery #trans man #transmasc

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odyssean-flower · 1 year ago

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Everything Shall Return to the Sea Chapter 3: We Are Trapped Together in a False Paradise (Yandere! Neuvillette x GN Reader)

how tf did this end up being 2.4k words-

i wrote this instead of sleeping so if it's messy...that's why

This is the third (bonus) chapter of Everything Shall Return to the Sea. Please read that if you want to understand what's going on

tw: dark themes, suicidal thoughts (kind of), mentions of imprisonment, my shitty dialogue

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

The wavering light overhead was dim and faint, more a memory than anything substantial. And yet you were craning your head towards it with all your might, like a sunflower seeking the sun.

Your arm, despite knowing full well how futile it was, reached up and tried to grasp it in your hands. Of course, nothing except for water slipped through your fingers.

Water–you’ve become so sick of that substance.

You closed your eyes and tried your best to imagine you were somewhere else. Anywhere else. A place where you were surrounded by weightless air. Your small, bare, but familiar apartment. The dull, sterile atmosphere of your job. The cozy and warm house where you met your friends in person for the first time–

That last memory sent a bolt of pain through your head, and you shook your head to get rid of it. Thinking about those people would make you fall into another spiral of depression that you might not ever be able to get out of.

The flickering light above you seemed to dart away, as though it was scared off by the sudden change in your mood. You tried to chase after it, but you couldn’t move from your spot. For a split second, you wondered if there was something weighing down your legs, and then you remembered.

You tried not to look down at the red, glittering appendage that now consisted your entire lower body.

The waters shifted behind you. You knew who was there even before turning around.

“My love, have I not told you over and over again that you must not look up at the surface? You would only strain your neck.”

The deep, smooth voice of Neuvillette, your mate–just thinking about that word made you feel ill– no longer sounded in your head, but reverberated straight into your ears. In some ways, that was a good thing. You didn’t know what you would do if he still spoke into your head.

You ignored his endearment of “my love.” You were in no mood to argue with him today, not to mention how sore your throat still was from your last yelling match with him. Well, it was more like you yelled at him while he simply stared at you blankly with his violet eyes, like it was just another tantrum you were having.

“Don’t you mean that you don’t like it when I do it?” you muttered. You let the unspoken reason hang between the two of you. Because you don’t like me clinging to my past life and rejecting you.

Neuvillette either didn’t hear your mutter or let it pass. His hand circled around your arm. “Come, my love. Let us return. I’ve prepared a wonderful surprise for you.”

You let him lead you by the arm. You were still unused to swimming with a tail and kept lagging behind, but he never hurried you. He only gave you gentle encouragements like “Yes, my dear, keep moving your tail like that” and “You’ve become so much better at swimming in such a short time” and helped you along.

He had been like this during your earliest days as a mermaid as well, when he was teaching you how to swim. Endlessly patient, endlessly understanding. You hated it. You hated the fond look in his eyes as he watched you struggle with the most basic skills that even a mermaid infant could grasp easily. You hated the firm grip of his hands on your shoulders and waist (although you quickly learned to put up with it, compared to the humiliation of crawling in the sand). And you especially hated his warm breath in your ear as he murmured instructions to you.

All of it was a reminder of the fact that you were utterly dependent on him now.

Sometimes, you wished he would just give up on you and leave you drifting in the depths alone. At least that was something you were used to for all your life: depending on yourself because there was no one else. You wondered why he didn’t. Surely even someone like him couldn’t endure constant rejection and hatred from someone he supposedly loved.

You never asked him that question. You didn’t think he would understand anyway.

His long hair billowed out and tickled your back as the two of you swam back to your abode.

Neuvillette’s people were nomadic, but they still had a permanent settlement of interconnected sea caves hidden from human eyes by the dark waters. They were currently staying there because of you.

You had expected to be met with scorn and contempt by the other mermaids for being deadweight, but instead, they treated you with a reverence befitting of a ruler. You were waited on by the other mermaids, your every need attended to before you could even voice it. There were kind smiles, warm gazes, and sincere compliments everywhere you looked. The worst part was, you were pretty sure that they weren’t even ordered by Neuvillette to do those things.

Ever since you were a child, your deepest wish was to be cared for and loved by someone, even if it were just one person. But now that your wish was fulfilled in the worst way possible, you simply wanted to be left alone. Even your previous solitude seemed like a comforting blanket to you now.

You had learned the hard way that mermaids considered the mating bond to be a sacred, inviolable connection. When you begged one of the mermaids to help you escape back to the surface, they had simply stared at you with wide, uncomprehending eyes. “But…are you not Lord Neuvillette’s mate? Why would you ever want to be parted from him?” they asked, as though your kidnapping and forced transformation at his hands were completely irrelevant. They immediately took you to Neuvillette, who proceeded to imprison you in your chambers for what felt like an eternity (the passage of time was so difficult to tell now). That wouldn’t have been so bad, if not for the fact that he chained you to your bed and insisted on taking care of you himself, from brushing your hair to feeding you. He No one else was allowed to see you. He was your sole source of companionship.

After he elicited a promise from you to never even think about escaping again, he unchained you and kissed your bruised wrists.

“I know it’s a difficult adjustment for you, but you must accept the fact that this is your new life now.”

You remember staring up at those violet eyes and feeling white-hot, visceral hatred for the first time in your life.

On your way back to the caves, the two of you were greeted by many mermaids. Even through the filter of your hatred for him, you could still tell that Neuvillette was a respected and well-loved leader.

“Lord Neuvillette and his mate look so lovely together,” you heard one sigh. “I wish I could have a bond like that one day!”

“Me too!” another chimed in. “I’d be happy for the rest of my life if my mate had half of Lord Neuvillette’s devotion. It’s so sad that humans can’t seem to understand it.”

“Oh yes, it’s truly pitiful. I do hope that they will learn soon.”

The gulf of understanding between you and the mermaids never felt more stark to you than now. All of your previous research and animated discussions with your friends seemed naive and silly. These creatures were fundamentally different from you.

You peek up at Neuvillette’s face and was mortified when your eyes met his. They softened, and a gentle smile appeared on his lips. Your stomach churned with a mix of different emotions. Despite everything, he was still the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

“We’re almost there to your surprise,” he told you. “I’ve been working on it for some time now. I think you’ll love it.”

Sometimes, you wondered if he really believed in what he was saying. Did he really think that this was the best and only way? Did he really believe that he was being kind to you? Did he really believe that you would come to love him?

Neuvillette led you to a round dome of opaque sea glass. There was a watery film set into the dome that appeared to be the door. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, if at all. All you hoped was that he left you alone to your thoughts soon.

You crossed the threshold and gasped at the sight in front of you.

The whole interior was softly illuminated by a wispy light set in a glass orb overhead, like a miniature sun. The ground was covered in swaying verdant green kelp. Colorful corals clustered in neat, stone-lined beds. A sleek, wooden bench was half-hidden under the shades of two rose-red weeping willows, whose branches almost brushed against the ground. Little fish swam amongst the branches like birds. At the center of it all was a white marble statue covered in moss. It must have come from some long-ago shipwreck, for its features and contours were heavily eroded. You could somehow tell, though, that it once depicted someone beautiful.

It was a perfect recreation of the park near your apartment you once frequented, but the underwater version.

You suddenly recalled telling Neuvillette about it during one of your weekly visits. He had taken an unusual interest in it and asked you many detailed questions about it. You had a tough time trying to describe it in a way he would understand, so you brought him pictures on your next visit. The intense way he had pored over them made you laugh and tease him at the time. You remembered even wishing there was a way to bring him there.

“I know that you’ve had a difficult time adapting to your new life,” Neuvillette’s voice brought you back to the present. “And I cannot blame you. Your old life was all you knew, after all, and you cannot help but cling to it. I made this place for you in the hopes that its familiarity would grant you some comfort. Of course, only you and I can enter this place. It will be our little secret refuge away from the world.”

The expectation in his voice made you look up at his face. The hopeful anticipation in his eyes caused something inside you to snap.

“I don’t understand…” you whisper.

“What don’t you understand?” he frowned.

“I don’t understand how you can do all these things. I don’t get how you can kidnap me, force me to transform into a mermaid, take me away from everything I care about, and act like I will inevitably return your feelings. I don’t get it at all! I don’t get why you try so hard to get me to love you, even…even doing all this! Why do you keep on trying, even when you know I will only reject you and hate you? Why? Is it because of that stupid mating bond you and all your people care so much about? Don’t you hate being forced to love someone because of something in your body that you can’t control? Don’t you want to be free of that? Why don’t you just dump me somewhere and find a new mate? I’m sure there’s plenty of mermaids out there who would happily become your mate if you just asked them. Better yet, just kill me! Just kill me and be rid of it all!”

Your words bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and erupted from your mouth in the form of a scream. You had never shouted like this before. You were panting heavily, and the back of your eyes was burning hot. You were probably crying right now, but it had been a long time since you had felt tears on your skin.

Despite it all, you glared up into his eyes, willing your feelings to reach him.

And they did.

Neuvillette’s face was twisted in rage. He looked furious. You had never seen that look on his face before. Your survival instincts, which you long thought were dormant, caused you to back away. I’ve gone too far, you thought. This is it.

Neuvillette’s hand reached out to grab your wrist and pulled you towards him, crushing you against his chest.

“Never say that again,” his voice was a trembling hiss. “Never tell me to kill you, ever again. I would rather give myself up to the humans than lay a finger on you.”

You couldn’t say anything. Not just because he was holding you so tightly, but also because the fierce emotion in his voice took your breath again.

“You ask me why I keeping persisting? Let me ask you a question, then. Why do you keep on clinging to that miserable, hopeless life you led? There’s no one who loves you or sees you for who you truly are. You attach yourself to those so-called friends of yours, who have never done anything for you, and yet you give all you have to them. What’s more, you gave yourself to someone barely knows your soul, deluding yourself into believing that is love. And you ask me why I did what I did?”

His voice was like the rumbling of the earth. It shook you to your core and you could do nothing except listen even as your heart sank. He never understood you at all.

“I have loved you, wanted you, thought only of you since the day we met. I’ve belonged to you, just as you’ve belonged to me, far before the bond snapped into place. The bond only confirms what already exists. Abandoning you, killing you, will be akin to killing me as well.”

You felt Neuvillette’s arm shake around you. It took you a few moments to realize that he was crying as well.

You wondered. What if Neuvillette had confessed his feelings to you normally? Would you have accepted them? Maybe, if it was the old, lonely you, you would have agreed to be with him in a heartbeat. But the you who finally experienced friendship and being cared about?

It was pointless to think about such what-ifs now. Those possibilities had dissolved into seafoam, along with your old life. Or perhaps your old life had been nothing but bubbles on the surface of the water to begin with, and this was the start of your real life.

One thing was for sure: you felt things with Neuvillette that you’ve never felt for anyone before. And you doubted that would change.

In that imitation garden at the bottom of the sea, you tilted your head upward and kissed the man who you were eternally trapped together with.

#neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #my works

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eccentricallygothic · 1 year ago

Note

OMG PROUD NO MORE IS THE HOTTEST THING IVE EVER READ PART 2 pls im on my knees

AHHHH! I am so glad you liked it! Since requests aren't open and I cannot do a drabble or oneshot rn, here's a little something I whipped up. Sorry if you had something specific in mind (you can always talk about it 🥴)

Note: This is a part 2-ish headcanon of my ABO oneshot Proud No More.

Warning(s): Dub-con, dark enhanced!Alpha Steve, Alpha!Reader, mean!Steve and dark stuff. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

After the events of part 1, Y/n remains curled in his legs on the floor after cleaning up and bringing everyone their drinks.

Steve is drinking his as he discusses the sport on the tv with the other Alphas.

She whimpers each time their eyes meet, him sitting on the couch with his legs spread, her snuggled up to them underneath him.

Her whole body is wrapped around his but he is not touching her at all.

His blue eyes are so cold to the puppy eyes she is looking at him with.

He knows it.

He can see it.

Smell it.

She wants it.

Needs him.

Inside.

So, so bad.

Y/n spends the remainder of the time peppering soft apologetic kisses to his knees, legs and thighs, hoping to earn some mercy.

Because Steve is the worst when it came to denying her where she needs him most.

Which is his go to punishment for her besides spanking.

She doesn't even care about the rest of the pack looking at her anymore.

Pleasing him so he would fuck her pussy numb is the only objective on her mind now.

But Steve doesn't falter.

The Alpha Supreme is a master of endurance.

She's so desperate by the time they finally leave the packhouse and walk towards his vintage Camaro.

Her eyes are glossy and lips only slightly pouty (because Steve doesn't tolerate brats and she's trying her best to not piss him off more than she already has) when he orders her to go over to get inside with a brief nod towards the vehicle.

She whines just a little, trying to move his hand (that she's desperately holding tight between both of hers) towards her aching core.

Yes, she forgets all rationality when she's needy.

What is remaining of her bottoms is covered in a wet mess of her slick and his cum.

But one sharp look from Steve has her scurrying away to the backseat, not wanting another punishment.

Whenever Y/n acts out, she loses the passenger Princess privilege.

Because Alpha doesn't like to look at sorry misbehaving puppies.

So she's sniffling and hiccupping as she moves to the back of the car before settling her very sore ass on the seat.

Her head lowers itself as her cheeks burn in humiliation.

He has a way of making her feel so small and pathetic.

Her form feels so tiny against the leather seat right now.

As if she's nothing but a small kicked puppy.

Fuck.

She can not decide if it's the inferior Alpha in her or if she actually feels sorry.

But all her senses are wrenching with regret.

The stunt was completely unnecessary and not worth it at all.

She's quiet and ashamed behind him, pulling her best sorry puppy expression.

The Superior Alpha starts the car and drives it off the porch onto the main road.

It is after a few minutes that her whimpers start to get louder to try and attract his attention.

Needy eyes shoot pleading glances up at the blonde man, knowing that he can feel them through the bond.

Steve continues to ignore her, still irritated by the antic she pulled in the packhouse.

It will take her days of worship and cocksucking to make him happy again.

It always does.

He is very hard to please.

Until then, the Supreme Alpha will, no doubt, be even stricter than usual.

Calling her out on the smallest of slip ups, punishing her for even breathing the wrong way, denying her as much physical touch as possible (she doesn't like to admit it but the puppy in her is always making her pathetically cuddle into one of his limbs).

The cruelest cold shoulder.

It has happened before.

And only Y/n is to blame for it happening again.

Yes, no matter what Steve does to her, she always dry orgasms.

It is just the effect he has on her.

But nothing compares to his touch down there.

Nothing, no orgasm, ever satisfies her more than the one his cock fucks out of her.

And until she can have one of those, she can neither think nor function right.

On days when she has to face denial as a consequence of her own actions, his dick is all she can think about.

Even if she refuses to admit it.

That is where the punishment aspect comes in.

Steve knows how hopeless her body is for his touch.

24/7.

She can lie to herself all she wants.

But Y/n cannot change the effect the bond has on her.

And that's exactly why he uses her everywhere but in her pussy following an episode of her acting out.

The begging, sobbing, kneeling, writhing, hissing, worshipping and trembling for his mercy strokes his ego in the best way.

Nothing makes him harder than all the promises she desperately makes.

All the ungodly things he makes her say.

Because she gets so cock starved during these punishments that she is always willing to do whatever he wants in the end.

Anything at all.

Just so he would fuck her like the puppy that she is.

Fuck her until she has basically lost consciousness.

Only to make her thank him once she comes back up.

Every time.

How her pride gradually breaks down.

Peeling away from her stiff form like the clothes that he makes her strip out of.

There is no better sight or feeling.

To him, that state looks the best on her.

She's so fragile and vulnerable for him then.

It is perfect.

She is perfect.

When she is proud no more.

Compliant and respectful on her knees.

Stroking his ego and kissing his feet.

Steve smirks to himself as he turns a corner, refusing to look at the crying mess of drool and cum hanging by his seat.

He has turned a deaf ear to her pleads.

But his monstrous knot is so worked up by how she's doing her best to remain as silent as possible because she is not allowed to be loud especially when interacting with her Alpha.

Yet, every part of her body is aching for him (he can feel it through their bond) so bad that she cannot stop the begging even if she wants to.

It is impossible for her to sit silently (as is expected of her).

Thus piling more and more punishment for herself.

Steve is not complaining though.

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takeyourdailydoseofcyanide · 6 months ago

Text

Rationality; a Supposed Loss and Deterioration

AO3

Fandom: Soul Eater

Character(s): Franken Stein, Spirit Albarn

Word count: 2 408

Tags: Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Age Regression, Age Regression/De-Aging, It’s Not Paranoia If They’re Really Out To Get You, Triggers, Paranoia, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Short One Shot

Summary: Stein spends the entire day pacing after receiving a particular alert. Spirit comes home, and is not very happy with his agitated demeanor.

Notes: A mutual of mine once said that it seems that I use writing as defragmentation. That perfectly describes whatever this is, and another fic I might post. This is sort of an exploration, as well - a dissection to a degree. A lot of my fics are.

Multiple trains of thought raced within Stein’s skull, all being derailed once their tracks would abruptly break, sparks flying from where they’d be cut off by sometimes nothing and sometimes something. The same sound he’d heard in the morning was playing endlessly in his mind, the same feeling, that sensation which spread throughout his limbs, gnawing on his insides, remaining almost effervescent in the way that it’d bubble up and nearly cause his body to bust open.

His extremities twitched every once in a while, odd muscle spasms often occurring, as he paced back and forth and back and forth through the short corridor of his and Spirit’s small apartment for hours on end. Soon, he found that his calves would ache with each step that he took, the floor rubbing against the forming and formed callouses on his toes, even his lower back seemingly a little sore.

But he could not stop his vessel from moving, not until that sensation which left him ticking, his head often jerking to the side, his shoulders rolling and cracking, dissipated.

There were still some leftover tremors in his hands, which he found almost funny. The same individual who’d regularly involve himself in any form of danger for the sake of feeling alive and euphoric was the same individual who was shaking at a mere sound, at a message of sorts, at something he could not even name without becoming jittery and agitated.

Surely they were coming for him. Surely. They’d ask who that ‘they’ even was, and perhaps it was those included in that… broadcast. Perhaps it was anyone. But it must’ve been those included.

Stein was lucky not to have experienced whiplash with the amount of times he’d whipped his head around, up, and even down, to check for any sign of an approaching figure. He could feel their presences. They were inside of his apartment. And each time he’d arrive at the end of the hallway, near a source of light and near the kitchen, he’d freeze briefly to cautiously check for those figures, before turning around after hearing and feeling someone’s breath on his neck, only to be met with nothing, except for the occasional oddity. He was being teased, taunted. Mocked, even.

For a moment, he flapped his hands, he beat on his arms, he pulled at his hair, he ripped the skin off of his lips with his teeth.

There was nothing he could do about it. If he were to hurt or even murder someone, perhaps Spirit since he had been awfully conspicuous lately, he’d be deemed as criminally insane. Imagine if he were to tell the judge and jury just why he’d been so violent. He didn’t want to be stuck in a psychiatric institution for the rest of his life because he got a little too agitated one day. But what about those coming for him? Would it not be self-defense? Was Spirit involved as well? He wasn’t, was he?

He darted back down the hallway, no longer walking, but running from the presences. He stopped once he entered his bedroom, making sure to check everywhere for the same person that was… broadcasted loudly to him. Once he found nothing - though he still knew there was someone in his apartment waiting to get him, playing with their food before devouring him - he grabbed his stuffed, stitched-up rabbit swiftly, holding it by one of its long, floppy ears and bolting out of his room, shutting the door behind him.

He brought the plushie to his chest for a moment, his chin resting on its soft head, as he embraced the toy, hoping that maybe it could soothe some of that pent-up sensation coursing through his body. And while it did nothing to get rid of what seemed to be his anxiety and agitation, it did cause a pleasant warmth to spread in his heavy, pressured and dense-feeling chest, contrasting, yet blending in with the noise.

He trudged closer to the kitchen, closer to the blaring light, ignoring the pain in his feet and legs, and the aching in his knees and hips.

“Oh, hey, Stein.”

There was a figure. The figure of his weapon, standing in the kitchen, digging through the cabinets. He hadn’t heard him come in. What else hadn’t he heard? What if someone else came in - or, really, broke in - and he was much too lost in his own internal landscape to notice?

He whipped his head in every direction he possibly could, their oppressive presences replacing and becoming the air he breathed.

He silenced a whimper. He silenced a strained, somewhat frustrated, exhausted groan. His body was becoming gradually more cumbersome to move and maintain any semblance of control over.

How was he supposed to interact with the scythe like normal? He needed to. He could not, but he needed to. He wasn’t in the mood to be yelled at and chastised. Therefore, he needed to, though he knew he wouldn’t. He did not wish to interact with him at all.

“Stein? What are you doing? You pacing again? Why are you just standing there?” Spirit tilted his head in suspicion, walking up to Stein, apparently having given up on finding a snack. “You really need to go shopping. It’s your turn, you know. We have, like, nothing.”

“What time is it?”

“What?”

“What time is it?”

“God, I wish you’d stop mumbling for once. I have no clue what you’re saying-“

“What time is it?” He, even more agitated than before, repeated with an accidentally whiny emphasis. He was antsy, he could not help it. He hadn’t the energy to interact, not when he knew how annoyed Spirit would be, how far from calm he’d be - which would only continue to worsen his growing distress. Spirit always had to be mad about something. Why couldn’t he ever just shut his fugly mouth and leave him be?

“It’s seven o’clock.”

“What day is it?”

“It’s Sunday. I went on a date. Remember?”

‘Barely.’

He was much too focused on the prospect of hearing an alarm again to remember what year it was, much less what day it happened to be.

“You’re always on a date.”

Spirit scoffed as though it weren’t the truth. He was always so offended, always on the defensive.

“That’s not true!” He moved towards the living room, Stein curiously following him. He wanted to gauge the now sitting boy, to figure out precisely what he should be suspicious or not suspicious of him for. He should always be suspicious, and he always was. They were conspicuous. Did he sell his information to the one broadcasted? Surely not. Though he couldn’t help but question it. Perhaps he did. He did not want another broadcast.

“Can you turn off the emergency alerts on your phone?” He did not want to ever hear another one, though he certainly would at some point. Just voicing what they were was enough for him to shiver, the sensation worsening as it rolled down his spine.

“Ohh… You got one, too, then?” He kicked back on the sofa, his feet lying crossed on the coffee table. “Yeah.. it was kind of unnerving. Some guy’s wanted for a bunch of murders and kidnappings and shit, and apparently he was last seen somewhere, like, half an hour or so away from us. He’s on Lord Death’s list- I heard some first years ended up with the mission.”

That did not answer his question. And he did not want to talk about it.

That same painful sensation sent shocks throughout his chest, throughout his arms and legs. His forehead began to throb, leaving him to wonder if his brain was finally about to explode, the rims of his eyes a little sore. He clumsily, sloppily rubbed one of his eyes with his free hand, as he yawned, finding that he’d forgotten to wear his glasses for the entire day. No wonder his eyes hurt.

“Honestly, that rabbit just screams you,” he pointed at the stuffed toy in Stein’s hand. “With all of the stitches, and how mangled and disturbing it looks. It’s pretty cute, though. …Are you going to sit down? Do you wanna watch something?”

“Mm-mm,” he hummed in disagreement, beginning to rock himself on his feet, that antsy, restless feeling not leaving him. Noisy, noisy, noisy.

“Why are you being so pouty? It’s annoying.”

Pouty? What had he done wrong? And even if he was, how could he not be a little pouty? After a long day of chronic agitation and failing to repress regression episodes, was he not allowed to be a little pouty? After being quite literally woken up by one of the few things that is able to illicit something akin to a fear response from him, was he not permitted to be a little fussy? No, he was not. He was not some sort of baby, after all. Everyone gets unnerved by things sometimes. Get over it. Suck it up. Don’t be so pathetic.

But how was he being annoying? He wasn’t venting to him, he hadn’t told him anything. He wasn’t seeking his comfort, or any sort of assistance from him. He wasn’t pestering him for anything. What was he doing that was so terrible?

“And you’ve been even weirder than usual lately. I wish you’d at least respond to me. I don’t know what psychiatric thing is going on with the you, or what psychiatric thing you want me to believe is going on with you, but It’d be nice if you’d pretend to be normal or human for even just a little while.”

“He’s coming for me,” he muttered under his breath, little titters escaping him despite his increasing agitation, as his lips twitched to the side. Spirit had often told him that his face twitched when he’d speak, when they’d converse. He noticed a lot of facial twitching, and twitching in general. Involuntary spasms. He found it odd. He found everything about him odd.

“Who’s ‘he?’” He gazed at him, looked him up and down with an expression that made it obvious just how bizarre he thought he was. He stared at him as though he’d said the dumbest thing in the world. He appeared almost repulsed by him. “No one’s coming for you. You’re fucking ridiculous. You used to actually be somewhat logical. I seriously can’t even speak to you anymore- no one can,” he sighed, his eyes seemingly telling him he perceived himself as being above him, as being better, more logical. How insulting. “Whatever. Gone are the days of having a rational conversation with you.”

Stein immediately walked away. What was even the point in trying to argue with him, or explain his side of things when he’d only be looked down upon, when he’d only be told he was being ridiculous and apparently faking some sort of issue? What was he even faking? What incentive would he have to fake anything? Attention? But being strange in the eyes of others did not typically bring anything good. He didn’t think he was acting all that different than usual. But any time he was even more “off,” or was having an even worse day than is typical in terms of the noise, he was often accused of apparently exaggerating or lying. But what the fuck was he lying about? He hadn’t told him anything? Was he lying about them coming for him? Was it because he’d giggle when he’d tell him that? But he didn’t mean to. His laughing didn’t mean was happy or faking. It just happened. It happened a lot when he’d get agitated and anxious. It could happen in his brief moments of euphoria, but he wasn’t euphoric. Why couldn’t Spirit understand that his body did things against his will? He didn’t feel like laughing. He didn’t know why he did. It was paradoxical, sure, but it just happened. If anything, giggling meant he wasn’t feeling too well a lot of the time. Not always, of course. But sometimes. Sometimes his happened at random, when he wasn’t feeling particularly any way. Sometimes it was a result of something negative, and other times it was a result of something positive, though that was fairly rare.

He opened his bedroom door, peaking into his room and checking for anything about to jump him. He checked behind the door, shutting it and locking it. And he crawled into bed, his comforter over his knees, as he held his rabbit tightly to his chest, rocking himself back and forth in an effort to calm himself.

He did not want to pathetically cry, he was not the type to cry, he never experienced the urge to cry. He hadn’t cried in God knows how long, so why now? Was it because of those idiotic regression episodes? But even when he was physically small, he did not weep. He wanted to be rational.

He nibbled on his lips, he nibbled on the fingertips coming to rest unconsciously against his lips.

He was supposed to be the logical one. He was supposed to be rational. Was he not logical anymore? Where was he? He was lost. He was supposed to be the smart one. He was supposed to be intelligent. He was supposed to be rational.

But they were coming for him. But he was supposed to be calm and rational. He typically was, was he not? He was grounded, down to earth. Where has he gone? Perhaps he’d finally lost himself to the madness. But he wasn’t supposed to irrational.

He knew this would happen, didn’t he? But he was being rational. Someone coming for him was the truth.

Where was he? Where was everything? Where had everything gone? He was finally gone, most certainly in the eyes of others. They’d made it clear how insane they thought he was for a variety of reasons- whether it be his violence or.. this.

He was supposed to rational. There was nothing left. But he was rational. This was rational. What did he mean by ‘gone are the days of having a rational conversation with you’? What did anyone mean by anything? Why did he have to interact with those who did not want him around? And where was he?

But they’re here. That is the truth. He was not. That, too, is the truth. There was a weight on his chest. And he wanted to brutalize Spirit.

#soul eater #takeyourcyanide #franken stein #stein #stein soul eater #dr stein #spirit albarn #spirit soul eater #soul eater fanfic #soul eater fanfiction #my fanfic

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call-sign-shark · 2 years ago

Text

✨Angel in Panic✨

Part 1: Angel in Disguise || Part 2: Angel in Distress || Moodboard

Summary: It has been eight long, exhausting but beautiful months. Yet, what happens when the baby comes earlier than expected, even though nobody is ready for it? Not even you? BONUS: of course, Bob is here.

Word count: 1.6k

Tags: Pregnancy, fluff, and a helluva fun

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Jake had never been a heavy sleeper. The slightest sound would make him jump from the bed, heart pounding in anxiety. The slightest seconds spent in paradoxical sleep would turn into excruciating nightmares. Yet, the day you both fell in love he found a way to soothe his parasomnia. He would simply look at your peaceful face, and brush your angelic features with his fingers tips, a tender smile stretching the corners of his mouth.

A faint complaint escaped from your juicy lips as his thumb gently fondled one of your cheeks. Jake never thought he could be something else than a heartbreaker. At one point, he was pretty sure death would reap him during a flight mission before he could build a stable relationship and a family. But you came, and you wrecked all his plans like a boisterous kid kicking a sand castle. Here he was, cuddling with you, his divine sleepy girlfriend, who was eight months and half pregnant. He was a lucky man.

“Aouch!” You suddenly cried, snapped from your sleep by an abrupt painful sensation in your uterus.

“Hey Eden, are you okay? What happened?” Jake straight up sat on the bed and brought a caring hand on your lower - he knew you often felt sore there because of how heavy was your pregnant belly. His beautiful green eyes rendered a tad darker by twilight passing through the windows’ blinds, shone with worries. Blonde brows furrowed, the pilot gently raised your chin to make you look at him.

“I- I guess I’m okay? I felt a sudden pain in my belly. I guess the baby must have kicked me.” You said after a while. A relieved smile enlightened your face when you looked at him, for no other surge of pain occurred. Feeling better, you let your body fall back on the comfortable mattress and Jake followed. He was leaning over you, lying on his side and leaning on his forearm.

“Looks like he already has his mother’s strong personality.” He teased, his huge and warm hand pressing gently on your belly. The sensation was so pleasant that it felt like it alleviated the weight and pressure your body was experiencing. You rubbed your drowsy eyes, your lids still blurred by the Sandman’s magic sand.

“Or he is already as annoying as his father.” You said, one brow raised and a sharp smile on your face. “I tend to think it’s the second opt-” Words choked in your throat, for Jake’s warm lips collapsed against yours to keep you quiet. You laughed while kissing him before parting your lips to let the pilot’s fury tongue waltz with yours. You have been sleeping together for two years and still, Hangman’s kisses managed to leave you shaking, wanting for more. A shiver ran down your spine, soon followed by a wave of warmth spreading through your body. Now that you were both awake, why not enjoy a steamy love session? Words were not needed; you understood that Jake had the same intent when his free hand slid under your t-shirt -in fact, it was one of his shirts you had stolen from his wardrobe- and ran up your soft body until it reached one of your swollen breasts.

“Come here, you sexy mama.” He cooed, his enamored grin so large that his eyes squinted.

“Aouch!” You cried out for the second time. Jake backed up in one sudden movement.

“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry babe!” He said, surprised. Contrary to all expectations, Jake Seresin was a caring boyfriend. He would stop at the slightest sign of protest, making sure you are okay with everything he does and taking care of your well-being before his own needs. Not that he could not be wild in bed, though, but the after-care was always incredibly soft.

“No, no, it’s my belly again…” You sighed, bringing a trembling hand to your forehead. “Jake, can you bring me something cold to drink? Got a sudden hot flash.” Part of the pregnancy ride, you thought. Jake nodded and got up from the bed, the pale moonlight underlining his back muscles and making his slightly sweaty skin shine. He put his gray sweatpants on and opened the room’s door.

“Need something else babe?” He asked, looking at you with his eyebrows frowned. He was worried for you, even though he tried to be rational: you were pregnant, so suffering from a few discomforts was a completely normal thing. You shook your head: all you wanted was a glass of freezing sugary drink with plenty of ice in it to cool down your blazing body. The tall blonde pilot left the room - the noise of his hurried footsteps faded away.

You whimpered, as another surge occurred in your belly. This time, you started to worry. Anxiety creeping in, you sat on the edge of the bed and buried your face in your hands, trying to keep calm. Why did you hurt? You had three weeks of pregnancy left, and never you had felt such weird pain. It was not that excruciating, but it was definitively unpleasant. And more than being unpleasant, you feared for your baby. Oh no, now you regretted asking Jake for a cold drink, all you wanted was to feel him by your side to chase your worries away like he always does when you started panicking.

“Erm, hello?” A soft and masculine voice made you jumped from the bed.

“What theeee- Bob! Damn! You want me to have a heart-attack or what?” You said, shaking your head as you recognize the WSO’s pale face. How the hell was he so stealthy? You did not even hear the door’s opening and God knew the door usually creaked.

“Well, I got up from my bed to go grab some snacks and- I don’t- I don’t know why I thought about you and the baby, you know?” The tall man, slightly stuttering, awkwardly readjusted his glasses on his nose “And I wanted to ask you if you had already packed your hospital bag.”

“My what?” You said, still confused by his sudden appearance in your bed room. Even though Jake and you brought a flat near the naval base, you liked sleeping in his military bedroom when he was working late. The place was reassuring for you, and so was the jetfighters’ noise outside. Top Gun was your real home- after all, you were still a pilot. A pregnant one, sure, but also a fierce one.

“Your hospital bag. I feel like you should do it now.”

“Listen Bob, I’ll probably pack my stuff tomorrow. You know there’s still three wee-” You could not finish your sentence, for another pain hit your belly. “Oh shit, here we go again.” You winced. This time, it had been more bearable.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry. It’s just the baby.” You retorted, waving the topic off.

“Oh my God, you’re gonna give birth now.” Bob said, his eyes widening almost comically behind his glass. You shook your head, laughing quite nervously.

“Don’t be stupid. Lemme tell you something: if what I have are contractions, well that’s not that bad. I barely felt- AOUCHHHHH!” You could not finish your sentence, for this time you felt like someone had just punched you right in the guts. Even your periods' cramps were usually not that brutal. pressing your arms against your belly, you curled and looked at Bob, despair and fear in your eyes. Bob was standing still, eyes even wider and face paler than usual.

“You- you-” The WSO could barely speak.

“Oh my god, ohhh my fucking God the baby is coming!” Your voice was cracked- Water breaking. What the hell was happening? You could not be three weeks earlier, could you? Or maybe Jake was right when he told you Bob was some kind of paranormal creature or wizard, for it all started when the WSO told you about the hospital bag.

“Babe, got your glass of-” Jake froze at the door’s frame, his sight catching Bob standing in the middle of the room staring at you as if he had just seen a ghost, while you were panicking on the bed. One quick glance was enough for him to understand the whole situation: the pool at your feet, the sudden pain in your belly… All became clear. At such a revelation, Jake’s hand released the glass and it dropped on the floor, breaking into big fragments.

“OH MY GOD JAKE SERESIN DO SOMETHING!” You yelled, panicking.

“BOB DO SOMETHING!” He yelled too, turning towards Bob.

“ME??? YOU are the father Bagman!”

You facepalmed, unable to believe the utterly stupid conversation your boyfriend and Bob were having right in front of you while you were about to give birth. Another cry escaped from your mouth, snapping Jake back to reality.

“Alright, alright!” He said to himself, shaking his head. Without a single hesitation anymore, he rushed towards you and carried you bride-style, “I’m going to bring you to the hospital! Be strong babe, Do you think you can do that? Be strong just for a little while and I swear everything’s gonna be fine.”

“I’m- I’m going to pack her hospital bag quickly while you bring her in the car.” Bob suddenly woke up from his lethargy, already running to your wardrobe. You sighed, slightly relieved as the two men finally took care of you. Your head fell against Jake’s muscular chest. He was about to leave the room with you in his arms when you told him to stop.

“What?” He asked, worried. You turned your head to look at Bob.

“Thank you Bobby. Thank you.”

Well, that was going to be a hell of a night …

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

1 prompt used from @marvelhead17’s pregnancy prompts

#hangman imagine #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #top gun fic #hangman x you #hangman fluff #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick x reader #tgm imagine #tgm fic #robert bob floyd #bob top gun #Angel in

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aces-personal-whore · 2 days ago

Text

Doflamingo x Defiant!Reader Smut Ch. 5

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

Welcome back, gang. I promised I wasn't dead! Here is the next chapter. I'm sorry for the slow updates. I'll be honest, I have a lot of down time at work, but no service/internet. It's like my work is a complete dead zone, so I can't access anything here. But! I hope you guys like this chapter.

☣️WARNINGS: NONCON/RAPE, NSFW, MDNI, smut, sexual assault, abuse, violence, aggression

Themes in this chapter: NONCON/RAPE, forced submission, forced creampie, breeding, BDSM, degradation and humiliation, manipulation, false affection, pregnancy, slight ass play, punishment

Notes: PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT THERE IS NONCON/RAPE THROUGHOUT THIS ENTIRE FANFICTION. THIS FANFICTION IS VERY GRAPHIC AND MAY BE TRIGGERING, UPSETTING, OR DISTRESSING TO SOME READERS. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!!

P.S. I'm sorry if I forgot to change any pronouns/names/etc. ;-; I'm still trying, aight. I do update these after I've reread them and gone through them a couple times, but there may still be some things I miss.

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As you tried to back away and dart towards the door, Doflamingo's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in his gaze. He wasn't about to let you escape so easily, not after he had claimed you and filled you with his seed.

"Oh no you don't, bitch," he snarled, lunging forward and grabbing you by the hair. "You don't get to leave until I say so. You're mine now, and I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

He yanked you back towards him, your body crashing into his as he pinned you against the wall. His cock, already hardening again, pressed against your stomach, untying your cervix as he prepares to claim you again.

"You can't run from this," Doflamingo growled, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. "You're going to be carrying my child, and I'm going to make sure you're always ready for me. Your pussy is going to be dripping with my cum at all times, just waiting for me to fill you up again."

He reached down, his fingers finding your pussy once more. Despite the soreness and exhaustion you felt, you couldn't deny the way your body reacted to his touch. Your pussy was already growing wet again, betraying your desire for him.

"See?" he purred, his fingers teasing your clit. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is trying to resist. You're just a slave to your own desires, aching for my cock like a bitch in heat."

Doflamingo's other hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to look into his eyes. His gaze was intense and unyielding, a testament to his complete control over you. "You're going to spend the rest of your days serving me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "You'll be my personal whore, my breeding bitch, and you'll love every minute of it. Because in the end, you know that you belong to me, and there's nothing you can do about it."

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a brutal kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, asserting his dominance and leaving no doubt as to who was in charge. As he kissed you, his cock pressed harder against your stomach, a reminder of the pleasure and pain he could inflict upon you at any moment. When he finally pulled back, his eyes blazed with lust and hunger.

"Doflamingo, please... I just want to use the bathroom..." you whimpered, tears streaming down your face.

Doflamingo's eyes softened slightly at your pathetic pleas, and he couldn't help but smirk at the way you begged for even the most basic of comforts. He knew that he had you completely under his control, and he reveled in the power he held over you.

"Alright, fine, you can use the bathroom," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "But don't even think about trying to escape. My strings are everywhere in this palace, and I'll know if you so much as take a step out of line."

He guided you towards the bathroom, his hand firmly on your lower back, making sure you didn't stray from the path. As you entered the bathroom, he lingered for a moment, his eyes roaming over your body once more.

"I'll be waiting right outside," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Don't make me wait too long, or I might just come in and join you. And trust me, you don't want that."

With that, he stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You could hear his footsteps fading away as he took his position outside the door, ready to pounce at the first sign of any attempt at escape.

Inside the bathroom, you were finally able to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. The experience had been overwhelming, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of fear and shame as you reflected on what had just transpired.

The realization that your cervix had been left untied sent a shiver down your spine, a reminder of the brutal and degrading treatment you had endured. This was your chance—you could try to reduce the likelihood of getting pregnant and get rid of as much of his essence inside you as possible.

As you did your business, you sobbed and clutched your swollen stomach, trying to push out as much of Doflamingo's cum as possible. You couldn't help but feel a sense of desperation and hopelessness. The thought of carrying his child, a constant reminder of the brutal and degrading treatment you had endured, filled you with dread.

Slowly, your stomach began to deflate, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you. You used the bidet to clean your genitals, wincing at the soreness and tenderness that remained. As you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn't help but notice the bruises, cuts, and welts that Doflamingo had left on your body. The evidence of his cruelty was etched into your skin, a permanent reminder of the nightmarish experience you had just endured.

You washed your hands and splashed some warm water on your face, trying to wash away the tears and the pain. But deep down, you knew that the scars left by Doflamingo's actions would never truly heal. You could only hope that he wouldn't notice the change in your appearance, that he wouldn't punish you for trying to regain a sense of normalcy.

As you exited the bathroom, you found Doflamingo waiting for you, his eyes narrowed and suspicious. He took one look at your stomach and his expression darkened, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist in a vice-like grip.

"What the fuck did you do in there?" he snarled, his voice laced with anger and disbelief. "I specifically told you not to try anything funny, and yet here you are, trying to get rid of my cum like it's nothing."

He yanked you closer, his face inches from yours, his breath hot and heavy. "Do you think you can just disobey my orders and get away with it? Do you really think I won't punish you for this?"

Doflamingo's free hand moved to your throat, his fingers tightening around your neck. His eyes blazed with a mixture of rage and lust, and you could feel the weight of his power pressing down on you. You knew that you were at his mercy, and there was nothing you could do to change that. All you could do was pray that he would show you some mercy, that he wouldn't inflict even more pain and suffering upon you.

"N-no, D-Doflamingo, it-it isn't like that..." Your whole body shook violently as you flinched away from Doflamingo. "It j-just so h-happened that your c-cum came out of m-me when I sat down... b-but I-I didn't try to escape though... I did exactly wh-what you said..." you stammered out.

Doflamingo was pissed. He released your wrist and throat and grabbed your hair, dragging you back to the room. His grip on your hair was painful, and you couldn't help but cry out as you were being dragged. The sensation of your scalp burning from his rough treatment only added to the overwhelming sense of fear and helplessness that consumed you.

"You're lying to me, aren't you?" he growled, his voice dripping with contempt. "You think I'm stupid enough to believe that my cum just 'came out of you' when you sat down? I know you, bitch. You're always trying to find a way to escape, to get away from me."

Once inside the room, Doflamingo threw you onto the bed, his body looming over yours with a menacing presence. His eyes were dark and stormy, filled with a dangerous mix of anger and lust.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't forget," he snarled, his hands pinning your wrists above your head. "I'm going to make you regret ever thinking you could disobey me, ever think you could get away with something like this."

Doflamingo's free hand moved to your thighs, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he roughly spread your legs apart. He could see the fear in your eyes, the knowledge that you were completely at his mercy, and it only fueled his desire to dominate and control you.

Doflamingo created threads that bound your wrists together to the mattress below. They dug into your skin, causing you to wince in pain "Doflamingo please, I didn't do anything! I didn't try to escape! I didn't mean to have your cum come out of me!" You began to cry harder, the tears flowing out of your eyes like a river.

But your words fell on deaf ears, and Doflamingo was already moving forward with his plan. His hands roamed over your body, groping and squeezing your flesh with a rough, possessive touch.

"It doesn't matter what you meant to do," he growled, his hot breath against your ear. "The fact is, you tried to get rid of my seed, and that's something I can't allow. I'm going to fill you up again and again until my child takes root inside you. There's no escape from this fate, so you might as well accept it."

Doflamingo's fingers found your pussy, already slick with arousal despite your fear and distress. He chuckled darkly as he felt your body betray you, your body responding to his touch despite your mind's protests.

"Look at you," he taunted, his fingers circling your clit. "You can't even control your own body. It's clear that you're meant to be bred, meant to be a vessel for my offspring. And I'm going to make sure that happens, no matter how much you might resist."

Doflamingo positioned himself between your legs, his cock already rock hard and ready. He rubbed the tip against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of pleasure and pain.

"Beg for it," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Beg for my seed, beg for the chance to carry my child. Show me that you're ready to submit to your true purpose."

"No!" you scream, your tears refusing to stop. All you could do was cry...

Doflamingo's eyes narrowed at your defiance, a dangerous glint appearing in his gaze. He had expected you to break, to beg for his seed like the desperate little plaything you were. But your refusal only fueled his desire to dominate you further, to make you submit to his will.

"No? Is that what you think you have the power to say?!" he snarled, his hand moving to your throat and squeezing tightly. "I own you, body and soul! You have no choice in this matter, and the sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be."

He released his grip on your throat, only to slap you hard across the face. The stinging pain radiated through your cheek, and tears sprang to your eyes from the force of the blow.

Without any further warning, Doflamingo thrust his cock into you, stretching you open and forcing you to accommodate his massive size. The pain was excruciating, your body struggling to adapt to the sudden invasion. But as he began to move, his hips slamming against yours in a brutal rhythm, you could feel something else start to build within you—a twisted, unwanted pleasure that threatened to consume you.

"That's it, take it," Doflamingo grunted, his pace increasing as he plunged into you again and again. "Feel the power of my cock, the dominance of my seed. You were made for this, made to be bred and used for my pleasure."

As he pounded into you, his hand reached down to your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in rough, demanding circles. Your body betrayed you once more, your pussy clenching around his cock as your orgasm approached. You wanted to fight it, to deny him the satisfaction of knowing he had broken you, but it was useless. The pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

Your eyes squeezed shut, causing more tears to come out. You gritted your teeth as you writhed beneath him. "Doflamingo, stop!!" you panted heavily, desperately trying to hold back the orgasm he's forcing upon you.

Doflamingo's eyes gleamed with triumph as he felt your cervix softening and dilating, creating the ideal environment for his seed to thrive. He could see the desperation in your eyes, the way you were trying to hold back your orgasm, and it only served to fuel his own arousal.

"Listen to you, panting like a bitch in heat," he growled, his hips slamming into yours with renewed vigor. "And I'm going to breed you like one. You'll be carrying my child before the night is through, and you'll have no one but yourself to blame."

He continued to plunge into you, his cock stretching you open and coating your walls with his precum. Your body was responding to his touch, your pussy clenching around him as if trying to draw him deeper inside. It was clear that your body was preparing itself for his seed, aching to be filled and bred.

"Just give in," Doflamingo whispered, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Let go of your resistance, and embrace the pleasure that only I can give you. You were made for this, made to be my personal breeding bitch. And I'm going to make sure you enjoy every second of it."

His fingers continued to work your clit, the pressure and friction building to an almost unbearable level. Your body was trembling, your muscles tensing and releasing as you fought against the oncoming orgasm. But it was a losing battle, and you knew it. With each thrust of his cock, each brush of his fingers, you could feel yourself slipping.

"Cum for me," Doflamingo commanded, his voice a low, dominant growl. "Show me how much you want to be bred, how much you need my seed inside you. Let go, and embrace your new purpose in life."

Doflamingo retracted his strings from your limbs and lifted you off the bed to sit on his lap. You could feel the intensity of his desire coursing through his body. His powerful arms held you tightly against his chest, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass as he smacked it with a resounding slap. The mix of pain and pleasure sent a jolt of electricity through your body, causing you to yelp and moan into his chest.

"That's it, take it like a good little slut," Doflamingo growled, his fingers tracing the rim of your asshole with a light touch. "I can feel your pussy desperately trying to milk my cock, begging for my seed. You're so fucking perfect, so eager to be bred and used for my pleasure."

As his fingers continued to tease your asshole, you couldn't help but moan louder, the sensation of his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Doflamingo's degrading words only fueled your arousal, edging you closer to your orgasm. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried his cock deep inside you, piercing your cervix and ejaculating directly into your uterus. His cock throbbed violently as he released his seed, the hot, sticky fluid filling your womb and coating your eggs in his essence.

Your orgasm finally consumed you, your body released several eggs into your womb, seeing Doflamingo as the ideal mate. Your pussy clenched around his cock, and the rhythmic contractions of your orgasm urging him to slip his finger inside your tight asshole. The contractions of your pussy aided his sperm, helping it to reach your eggs and fertilize them with his potent seed. You could feel your stomach swelling once more, the evidence of his successful breeding filling Doflamingo with a sense of determination and urgency.

"Fuck yes, take it all," he growled, his hips still rocking against yours as he continued to pump his seed into your receptive body. "Your womb was made for my cum, and I'm going to make sure you're full to the brim with my offspring. You're mine now, completely and utterly mine."

Your pussy was stretched around his thick, pulsating cock, your juices mixing with his cum and forming a sticky, viscous mess. Your asshole clenched and twitched around his finger.

As Doflamingo's orgasm finally began to subside, he released a satisfied grunt, his body shuddering with the aftershocks of his climax. He held you close, his fingers caressing your skin as he savored the feeling of your body wrapped around his, removing the finger he had inside you.

Doflamingo's fingers traced patterns along your lower back, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. As he worked, you could feel your cervix being sewn shut, ensuring that his precious seed would remain inside you until it took root and grew into a new life.

"There, now you can't expel my seed from you again," Doflamingo said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You're going to keep it inside you until you get pregnant, and I'll be watching you every step of the way."

As the reality of your situation began to sink in, you found yourself panting heavily, trying to grasp the concept of being permanently tied to Doflamingo, both physically and emotionally. Your mind started to dissociate, desperately seeking an escape from the nightmare you found yourself in. "No, this can't be happening," you thought, your heart racing as you tried to come to terms with your new reality.

Doflamingo had no intention of letting you slip away into the safety of your own mind. He leaned in close, his hot breath against your ear as he spoke, "Don't even think about checking out on me," he growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "You're mine now, and I won't let you escape, not even in your own thoughts. You're going to face the consequences of your actions, and you're going to do it with me by your side."

He pulled back, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made you shudder. His gaze was filled with a mix of desire, possession, and a dark, twisted sense of love that sent a chill down your spine.

"I know you're scared and confused," he said, his voice softening slightly. "But you need to understand that this is your new reality. Embrace it, accept it, and you'll find that it's not as bad as you think." Doflamingo's words were a thin veil, poorly concealing the sinister nature of his intentions.

You leaned back and stared at him with a blank expression, your eyes half lidded, your lips parted. You looked as if you were in a daze. "Doflamingo..." Your voice was weak; your mouth hardly moved as you spoke. All your energy had been sapped away.

Doflamingo's eyes narrowed as he noticed the vacant expression on your face, your voice barely above a whisper. He could sense your resignation, the way your body had given up, leaving you with nothing but a hollow shell of your former self.

"What's the matter, little one?" he asked, his voice a low, dangerous purr. "You don't seem to have the energy to fight back. Have I drained you of all that defiant spirit?"

He leaned in closer, his fingers tracing the contours of your face, as if trying to memorize every detail. His touch was gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to the brutality he had shown you earlier.

"It's okay," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "You don't have to fight anymore. You can just let go and surrender to me. I'll take care of everything, and you'll never have to worry about anything again."

His words were like a sedative, slowly lulling you into a false sense of security. As he continued to caress your face, you felt your eyelids growing heavier, your body slumping in his arms.

"That's it," Doflamingo murmured, his hand sliding down to rest on your stomach. "Just relax and let your body do what it was meant to do. My seed is inside you now, and it won't be long before you're carrying my child. You're going to be so beautiful, so perfect, just like I always knew you could be."

As he spoke, you could feel a strange warmth spreading through your body, a tingling sensation that started in your core and radiated outward. It was both comforting and unsettling, a reminder of the life growing inside you, a life that belonged to Doflamingo and no one else.

In that moment, you realized that there was no escape, no way out of the twisted reality that Doflamingo had created for you.

Doflamingo carefully lifted you off his cock. You could feel the slight discomfort as he withdrew, your pussy clenching around him as if trying to keep him inside. He laid you down on the bed, his hands gently caressing your skin as he arranged you into a comfortable position.

"There, that's better," he said, his voice a low, soothing murmur. "You need to rest now and let your body recover from the intense experience we just shared."

He leaned over you, his eyes roaming your face, taking in every detail as if committing it to memory. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, the line of your jaw, the swell of your lips. Each touch was tender, almost reverent, as if he was seeing you for the first time.

"You're exquisite," Doflamingo whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "I've never seen anyone quite like you before. Your features, your body, your very essence – it's all so perfect, so irresistible. I'm glad I found you, glad that I could make you mine."

His hand moved down your body, pausing at your stomach. He pressed his palm against the soft, yielding flesh, feeling the warmth emanating from within. A small, satisfied smile played at the corners of his mouth as he imagined the life growing inside you.

"My child," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and possessiveness. "Our child. You're going to make such a wonderful mother, and I can't wait to watch you grow and change as you nurture this new life inside you."

As he spoke, you could feel your eyelids growing heavier, your body sinking deeper into the mattress. The combination of exhaustion and the strange, tingling warmth spreading through your body made it difficult to stay awake, and you found yourself drifting off into a fitful sleep.

Doflamingo watched you as you slipped away, his eyes filled with a mix of love, lust, and possessiveness.

"Sleep well, my love," he whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Tomorrow, we'll begin our journey together, and I'll be by your side every step of the way."

----------

As you stirred from your slumber, something felt... different... Your breasts felt sore, and when you looked at them, you noticed your nipples were a slightly darker shade and looked a little bigger... Panic began to set in as your realized... you were more than likely pregnant... with Doflamingo's child. Doflamingo had already gotten up to tend to his responsibilities for the day.

You got up and ran over to the mirror and looked at yourself. Any abdominal swelling was from how much he ejaculated in me, and not a growing fetus... Still, you looked at your breasts in closer detail and noticed they did, in fact, look different. You broke down and began crying once more as reality began to set in.

You threw on some clothes and ran to the bathroom where you looked to see if maybe there were any pregnancy tests. Maybe Baby 5 had some...

You looked through the drawers and medicine cabinets in the bathroom when... you found some. You took two out of the package, sat on the toilet and proceeded to take the tests.

As you waited for the results to show up, your whole body shook with anticipation and anxiety

"Please... please be negative..." you whispered to yourself, but you knew it was just wishful thinking. After a few minutes have passed, the results came back... You looked in horror as they both came back positive.

You hunched over the sink holding the pregnancy tests in your hand, taking deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down, but the tears kept flowing. You felt sick to your stomach.

The sound of running water echoed through the bathroom as you splashed cold water on your face, trying to compose yourself.

"How am i going to tell Doflamingo... It's not like I can hide anything from him... Do I just... find him and pull him aside? No... He would punish me for that... But if he found out I took the pregnancy tests and didn't tell him, I would also be punished..." You sighed, trying to figure out the best course of action.

Your mind raced, trying to come up with a plan. You knew that you couldn't keep this from Doflamingo, not with his ability to sense even the slightest changes in your body. But the thought of telling him, of confessing that his seed had taken root inside you, filled you with dread.

You dried your face with a towel, your hands shaking as you tried to steady yourself. You had to be smart about this, had to choose your words carefully. Doflamingo was unpredictable at the best of times, and you couldn't risk setting him off with the wrong approach.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and headed out of the bathroom, throwing the tests in your pocket. You needed to find Doflamingo, to tell him the news before he discovered it on his own. It was the only way to avoid his wrath.

As you stepped out into the hallway, you heard voices coming from the nearby throne room. Doflamingo's voice rose above the rest, barking orders at his underlings. You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to interrupt him or wait until he was finished.

But in the end, there was no choice. You had to do this now, before you lost your nerve. Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the doors to the throne room and stepped inside.

All conversation ceased as every eye in the room turned to stare at you. Doflamingo's gaze was the most intense, his red eyes boring into you like lasers as he waited for you to speak.

"D-Doflamingo..." you began, stuttering. "I... I need a moment of your time, please..." You looked away anxiously, avoiding eye contact with everyone. You cowered away, hiding behind the doorframe.

Doflamingo's gaze narrowed as he watched you cower behind the doorframe, your body language screaming submission and fear. He leaned back in his throne, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he watched you squirm.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "What's the matter, my little pet? Cat got your tongue?"

The room erupted in laughter at his words, the sound harsh and mocking. You felt your cheeks burn with shame, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find the right words.

Doflamingo's smile only widened at your discomfort, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. He stood, his tall, muscular frame towering over you as he stalked closer. The ground seemed to shake with each step, the air around him crackling with barely contained power.

"Come now, out with it," he snapped, his voice sharp and commanding. "What could be so important that you'd interrupt me in the middle of my work?" He loomed over you, his presence overwhelming and oppressive. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils. It was all too much, too overwhelming, and you found yourself struggling to breathe.

Doflamingo's hand shot out, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to meet his gaze. His fingers dug into your skin, the pain sharp and biting. You whimpered, your eyes wide and terrified as you stared up at him.

"I'm waiting," he growled, his patience wearing thin. "And don't even think about lying to me. I can smell deceit from a mile away."

You winced in pain. "I... I think this is a private matter..." you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

Doflamingo's grip on your jaw tightened, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises. His red eyes bored into yours, searching for any hint of deception or lies.

"Private matter, huh?" he mused, his voice low and dangerous. "And what makes you think you have the right to demand privacy from me, my little toy?"

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "I own you, body and soul. There is no part of you that is not mine to control, to use as I see fit."

His free hand trailed down your body, his fingers skimming over your curves possessively. "But I suppose I can indulge you this once. After all, it must be something important for you to risk my wrath by interrupting me."

Without warning, he grabbed your arm and yanked you forward, dragging you out of the throne room and into a nearby chamber. The door slammed shut behind you, sealing you both in a room bare except for a large bed and a few pieces of furniture.

Doflamingo released your arm, shoving you roughly towards the bed. You stumbled, catching yourself on the edge of the mattress before turning to face him.

"Well?" he demanded, his voice sharp and impatient. "Out with it. What is so important that it couldn't wait?"

His eyes raked over your body, taking in every quiver and tremble. He could sense your nervousness, your fear, and it only served to fuel his excitement. Whatever secret you were hiding, he knew it would be delicious to uncover.

You walked over to him and reached into your pocket to pull out the two pregnancy tests. Your whole body shook as you handed them to him.

Doflamingo's eyes widened slightly as he took the pregnancy tests from your shaking hands, his gaze flicking between the positive indicators and your face. A slow, wicked grin spread across his features as realization dawned.

"Well, well, well," he purred, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "It seems my seed has taken root, hasn't it?"

He tossed the tests aside, not caring where they landed as he focused his attention back on you. His eyes roamed over your body, lingering on your breasts before trailing lower, to the soft swell of your stomach.

"My child," he breathed, the words heavy with possessiveness. "Growing inside you, claiming you as mine in the most primal way possible."

He reached out, his hand cupping your stomach through your clothes. The touch was gentle, almost reverent, a stark contrast to the hunger in his eyes.

His other hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. "I will protect what is mine. No one will harm you, no one will take you from me. You are precious, a vessel for my legacy."

But even as he spoke words of protection and possession, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease. Doflamingo was unpredictable, dangerous, and you knew that his idea of protection might be far different from your own.

A wave of relief washed over you as you listened to Doflamingo speak to you, knowing that he wasn't going to punish you. You dropped to your knees and sighed with relief.

Doflamingo watched with amusement as you sank to the floor. He chuckled darkly, shaking his head at your naïvety. "Oh, my sweet little pet," he cooed, his voice dripping with condescension. "Did you really think I would punish you for this? For bearing my child?"

He crouched down next to you, his hand sliding through your hair almost tenderly. "No, no, no. You've given me the greatest gift, the promise of an heir to carry on my legacy. How could I possibly punish you for that?"

His fingers tightened in your hair, tugging your head back to force you to meet his gaze. "But don't mistake my mercy for weakness. You are still mine to do with as I please, and I will not tolerate any disobedience or disrespect."

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You are my property, now and forever. And I will remind you of that fact every single day, until it is so deeply ingrained in your mind that you can never forget it."

With that, he released you, standing to his full height once more. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of possessiveness and dark desire. "Now, come. It's time to celebrate this joyous occasion. I want you to dress up for me, wear something that highlights your new status as the mother of my child."

You slumped over, trying to regain your composure. "Doflamingo... you've never even given me any clothes... I've been wearing the same dress since you kidnapped me..."

Doflamingo's brow furrowed, his lips twisting into a scowl as he processed your words. "Hmph," he grunted, his eyes raking over your form dismissively. "I suppose I have been neglecting your needs. But no matter. We can remedy that quickly enough."

"Baby 5," he called, and a moment later, the door to the chamber flew open. Baby 5, a pretty young woman with long black hair and piercing blue eyes, hurried in, bowing low before Doflamingo.

"Master Doflamingo," she said, her voice soft and subservient. "How may I serve you?"

"Fetch some suitable clothing for my pet," Doflamingo commanded, gesturing to you with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Something that will accentuate her new status, but that will also allow easy access for when I wish to use her."

Baby 5 nodded, hurrying away to do his bidding. Doflamingo turned his attention back to you, his eyes glinting with a possessive light. "You will look beautiful, my pet," he purred, his voice low and seductive. "A vision of motherhood, ripe and ready for me to claim."

He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek almost tenderly. "And when you're dressed, I want you to kneel before me, to present yourself for my inspection. I want to see every inch of you, to marvel at the way my seed has taken root inside you."

His thumb brushed over your lower lip, a gesture that was both intimate and threatening. "Do you understand, my little toy? This is your purpose now, to bear my children and to serve me in every way I demand. Never forget that."

You turned away and began crying. Doflamingo's hand shot out, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at him. His grip was tight, almost painful, as he stared into your tear-filled eyes with a mix of annoyance and dark amusement.

"None of that now, pet," he chided, his voice low and dangerous. "You are mine, body and soul. Crying will not change that fact." He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your face as he whispered, "You should be grateful, you know. Not every woman is blessed with the honor of bearing my child. You should be thanking me for choosing you, for bestowing such a gift upon you."

His free hand slid down to your stomach, pressing possessively against the soft swell of your belly. "This is your purpose now, to carry my offspring to term. To nurture and protect the life growing inside you, no matter the cost."

He released your face, only to grab a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back painfully. "And you will do it gladly, my little toy. Because you know what happens to those who displease me." He released you roughly, shoving you back towards the bed. "Now, get dressed. I want to see you on your knees before me, a vision of obedience and submission."

His eyes glinted with a cruel light as he watched you hastily comply, his lips curling into a smirk. "And once you're done, we'll celebrate properly. I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight, until every inch of you is claimed by me, inside and out."

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "After all, it's the least I can do for my precious little slave." With that, Doflamingo left the room.

You frowned... You couldn't handle his abuse much longer...

Your thoughts were interrupted when Baby 5 entered the room, her arms laden with a selection of dresses. She glanced at you briefly, taking in your tear-stained face and downtrodden posture, but said nothing. Instead, she laid the dresses out on the bed, stepping back to give you space.

There were a few options: a sheer, lacy number that would leave little to the imagination, a tight-fitting gown that would hug your curves like a second skin, and a flowing, ethereal dress that would drape over your changing figure like a dream.

Baby 5 watched silently as you perused the choices, her expression neutral and unreadable. She was used to Doflamingo's whims and demands, and had long ago learned to detach herself emotionally from the tasks she was required to perform.

As you reached for the sheer dress, Baby 5 cleared her throat softly. "Young Master prefers you in the tight one, miss," she said quietly, nodding towards the form-fitting gown. "It will show off your... condition... to best advantage."

She didn't elaborate further, but you knew exactly what she meant. The tight dress would highlight every curve and swell of your pregnant body, presenting you as the perfect vessel for Doflamingo's offspring.

Baby 5 waited patiently as you slipped into the chosen dress, her eyes averted to give you a modicum of privacy. The fabric clung to your skin like a lover's caress, molding to your every contour and leaving nothing to the imagination.

When you were fully dressed, Baby 5 stepped forward, her hands smoothing over your hips and stomach possessively. "Young Master will be pleased," she murmured, her tone almost envious. "You'll do well to remember your place, miss. As you know, Master Doflamingo doesn't tolerate disobedience."

With that, she turned and left the room, leaving you alone to compose yourself before facing Doflamingo once more.

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