#consent to pregnancy

[isawthismeme]

[diejager]

wondering how doesn't reader get pregnant after a lot of action with both horangi and könig, especially when König prefers to breed reader rather than his wife.

also do they have breeding kink? and what would be reader's reaction if there's a possibility of pregnancy, that would be so dramatic ig coming from reader's mom.

I hope this answered your question! cw: breeding kink, drug replacement?, mention of abortion, forced pregnancy, mention of stalkholm syndrome, tell me if I missed any.

The answer is simple: you either take pills, or got an IUD installed (honestly, that’s what I have since I have so many friends who’ve told me that pills have bothersome side effects and I’m forgetful so I won’t be able to remember to take them every day.).

A) If you take pills, König will replace them with a placebo, he has his ways, relationships built on years of work and alliance. So it wouldn’t be hard for him to find someone who can produce placebos for your birth control. Since he’s made a habit of staying near you whenever he can, seeing as he’s retired, it would be weird if he went out for so long. He has Horangi pick it up, meeting with the agent who’s sent to give them a year worth of box.

B) If you had an IUD installed, he’ll search your room for that little card it comes with when you’re not home, look at the date and he has two options. 1) if he doesn’t want to wait the time, be it a year or two, anything between one and five, he’ll talk to you about taking it out. 2) if he can wait, he’ll use the time to break you in, let you settle with this relationship and get you used to the dynamic they have in mind. Patience is a virtue after all, like a little pet project of theirs.

They definitely have a breeding kink. Ironically enough, they’re family men, a bit rough on the edges and tactile in their ways, very touchy-feely. They like to be hands on, holding you down as they fill you up, fingers bruising your skin with brands, to let people - and you - that you belong to them. König might be fidgety, never being one to sit still and do nothing, but he is patient, like a predator in hiding. Horangi’s a tiger in a hunt, slow and steady steps, certainty exhuming from every decision he takes. They don’t make a decision without telling the other, Horangi and König are a team, they were and always will.

Whichever contraceptive you took, it wouldn’t mater much in the end, you’d end up with morning nausea and a positive on your test. You’re in tears, balling your eyes out and panicking, breathe rapid and shallow, near hysteric as your mind goes through all the different scenarios of what ifs. You might’ve laughed at the ridiculousness of your situation, pregnant with the child of your stepfather or your neighbour. What would your family think? Your mother who’s oblivious and ignores your cries for help; your father who didn’t know where wen after your mom indefinitely cut your contact; or your living grandparents that lives God knows where.

Unlike you, hysteric and frantically searching for a solution to your problem, König is excited, calling Horangi to tell him the great news of your pregnancy. He has a smile on his lips when he finds you, shushing your tears and cooing soft praises. König tells you what a good mother you’d be, what a responsible Stay-at-home mother, with gentle hands and loving lips. When Horangi’s here, he picks you up, holding you in his arms and peppers you in kisses, a few deep, feverish ones, full of passion, and a few wild ones on the corner of yours lips and your cheeks.

Your mother is less frantic than you, worried, but not panicking. As a mother, she’ll ask about the pregnancy, who the father is (knowing you weren’t one to sleep around), and help you. You’re embarrassed at yourself, unable to tell her that the two men in the room are the kid’s father. You’re silent, head bowed down in shame and fidgeting, anxious and terrified, you were in your army 20’s, still in University to finish your bachelor’s degrees and now you’re pregnant. Horangi steps up, telling her that you’ve been having relationships with him - excluding the fact that her husband had a hand in everything as well - in occasions. She’s seen how close you are with Horangi, nearly sitting on his lap at times and often seen in his company.

She’s supportive, ignorent of all the mess in your life. Granted, she’s a bit disappointed, but you’re an adult, she can’t dictate your life like her parents did to her. So all she can do is support you, take l’ombre time off to walk you through the basics of parenthood and the nausea and emotional rollercoaster a pregnancy brought. You want to tear your hair out from the roots down at how oblivious your mother is, but you’re scared of getting an abortion, or if it’s legal at all.

Your angry, stressed and panicked, emotions flaring up with your unfortunate situation with no one to talk to, to turn to, all you want to do is cry. What can you do when you have an ignorant mother and two possessive and criminally wrong men with bloody hands and unrestrained connections.

Tag list: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

[konigsblog]

Stepdad Graves who just can’t help himself around his step daughter.

continuing from this part...

cw: stepcest, cheating, forced impregnation, tampering with contraceptives, afab!gn!reader, dub-con, lactation, pervy-graves, age gap/difference (reader's age is unspecified, but i'd say aged mid-20s + graves is aged 40-50s)

dead dove: do not eat. mdni 18+ 🔞

after your stepfather had forcefully impregnated you, your boyfriend had broken up with you. of course, you eventually had to drop out of college to take care of yourself during pregnancy, as well as take care of your future baby. your stomach grew everyday, and along with that, your nipples began to weep milk, white droplets of your sweet milk running down your breasts, or seeping through the material of your shirt.

graves couldn't help himself at the sight of you. he just wanted to take care of his pregnant stepdaughter, to rub at your swollen, puffy and wet nipples whilst you wriggled and complained, still annoyed at him for doing what he'd done, trying to free yourself from his tightening grip.

there had been countless times where you'd be awoken to the pleasing and arousing sensation of your stepfather's tongue against your little clit, rubbing it in soothing circles whilst you arched your back, so exhausted yet so desperate for that release that tightened at your core.

of course, at some point, you had to break the news to your mother once home from a long work trip. you told her that you'd gotten pregnant by someone you didn't know, at a college party, drunk and intoxicated. she was pissed at you for making such an irresponsible decision, that you had no support from the father, but when you broke down at her reaction, she knew she couldn't be too harsh on you.

she was blind to your stepfather's disgusting and perverted behaviour. she didn't notice how his gaze would linger on your growing stomach and breasts for a little too long, or how she'd wake up with graves not in bed. she paid no attention to it all, and didn't even notice how your baby had some of your stepfather's features. those familiar and recognisable blue eyes.

after your pregnancy, graves was desperate to get you pregnant again, and again. although, you made sure not to get too drunk around him, instead making sure you'd use contraceptives, usually condoms. you were fucking up his plans! he had no other decision, but to instead tamper with the condoms, poking them with a small pin, in the hopes of getting you pregnant.

you should've expected it, really... :(

[bigassmoonchild]

Maple Syrup Masterlist

THIS SERIES IS COMPLETED

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Total Parts: 17

Total Word Count: ~43.3k

Summary: A mission that was supposed to be easy doesn't go your way, but when does it ever when the 141 is involved? Aphrodisiacs that were incredibly powerful were used on yourself and Simon, and with one accident it took over your lives. Now, you need to figure out how to go about life as a newly mated Omega in a world made for Alphas.

Content Tags: Smut, Dubious Consent, Sex Pollen, Fuck or Die, Heat, Rut, Angst, Knotting, PIV Sex, Biting, Hurt/No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Typical Violence, Depictions of Violence, Mentions of Pregnancy, Kinda Pregnancy Loss, Teasing, Use of Pet-Names, Simon is shit at talking and emotions, He figures it out tho, Dropping of the L word, Near Death, Pregnancy, Vomiting, Task Force 141 is a Pack, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No Use of Y/N

A/N: I just wanted to make sure anyone who needed (or wanted) to have a one-stop shop for the Maple Syrup series (and drabbles pertaining to it) can have it. Please send me asks! Masterlist under the Cut!

🧼 = smut, 🧸 = angst, 💞 = fluff

Main Storyline:

Part 1: Maple Syrup 🧼

Part 2: The Aftermath 🧸

Part 3: Alpha, Please 🧼💞

Part 4: Feral 💞

Part 5: The Hearing 🧸

Part 6: Talk 🧸

Part 7: Lost and Found 🧸 💞

Part 8: Hot and Cold 🧼 🧸

Part 9: Hoops 🧸

Part 10: Thirteen 🧸

Part 11: Tags 🧸

Part 12: Ghost 🧸

Part 13: Tea 🧸💞🧼

Part 14: Meetings 🧸💞

Part 15: Tears 🧸💞

Part 16: Nothing 🧸

Part 17: Happy 💞🧸

Drabbles, Oneshots, Side-Stories:

Simons Rut 🧼

Headcannons 💞🧸🧼

[swampstew]

Personal Hell

Summary: Loosley inspired by this blurb by my good friend @quinloki ~ You're Captain Kid's little love doll, do you think you can live with it? Be honest.

Warnings: spicy content 18+ only; VERY Yandere! Eustass Kid x AFAB Reader; noncon dubious consent, graphic, reader is a hostage, forced orgasms, vaginal penetration, creampie, threats of violence/impregnation

You couldn’t move much after Kid was done with you. He was always rough with his ‘lovemaking��� and tonight was no different. You nearly jumped as you felt his fingers run over the fresh bruises he made. Holding back the whimper that threatened to escape from your lips, your hands clutch the blanket tightly as you felt Kid pull your body down the bed.

A damp, warm cloth runs up your thighs and stomach, cleaning off the clumps of cum that caked your body. You hear the nightstand open, the cap of a bottle come unscrewed, and the silky feeling of a balm being coated over your aching skin.

“Up,” you hear him command.

You lift your hips as he slides a pair of his briefs to cover your naked bottom. He continued his after care by pulling his oversized shirt over your body and carried you to the bathroom.

“Piss.”

He gave you the courtesy of closing the door so you could urinate. As soon as the toilet was flushed, the door swung back open and he crowded your space, getting behind you and reaching for his toothbrush.

In silence, you brushed your teeth, washed your faces, and he even brushed your hair before shuffling you back to the bed.

As the mattress shifted, you could hear the faint clink of the metal handcuff that was still hanging on the lowest rung of the headboard. Long abandoned for how many months now, you couldn’t be sure. All you knew was that he stopped enforcing them in your sleep once you had become more…pliable to his demands of you.

Even though you knew it was pointless, you still tried to stick the edge of the bed with one knee partly hanging off. The furthest point that you could be to not be touching him.

A measured click of his teeth, he evenly called out, “C’mere.” Not a suggestion, a demand.

One you wanted to ignore.

You turned over to face him. He wasn’t looking at you but he had a smile on his face, one that implied he knew you were going to do it or else face his consequences. You pressed yourself lightly to his side as he pulled the blanket up to cover you both.

“One day,” he sighed, “You’ll be glad to be waking up to me. You could have it so much worse.”

You squeaked as he wrapped his arm around you and moved your limbs so that your leg was in between his and your arm was slung around his neck.

“I treat you good, don’t I?”

A rhetorical question.

“Don’t I?”

You stiffly nod.

He scoffed, “At least pretend like you mean it.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that.

Kid decided he would find out for himself, plunging his hand down your borrowed underwear. Swiping his long fingers across your slit, you could hear the smugness in his voice.

“See? At least yer pussy is honest with me.”

He played with the wetness between your folds, a natural bodily response to the stimulation but he took it as his own achievement. His pride overflowing.

Dipping his fingers inside you, you couldn’t help the reflexive tightening of your muscles or the moans you choked back. The way he teasingly pushed against your g-spot, pressing his digits down against your gummy walls as they started to flutter.

He let out a groan, tightening his hold on you and thrusting his fingers faster. Wetness dripping down your thighs as you tried to close them and limit his motions. It was moot.

Kid tore them off and spread your legs, not even removing his own briefs as he pushed the tip of his erection into your entrance. The stretch of his cock head and the friction of the cotton against your walls pushed a cry from your lungs.

“Fuuuuck, see? You wouldn’t be enjoying it this badly if you didn’t like me!”

Pulling back, Kid let out a feral growl as he palmed his cock, stretching the stained fabric from your slick and rubbing himself earnestly.

Your chest heaving from the forced pleasure, you warily watched him as he stared at you with smoldering intensity. His hand slowly pumping himself as he drank in your aroma of fear and arousal. Even after all this time, your body still accepted and even enjoyed the twisted way he craved you. Needed you.

Abandoning his briefs, you didn’t have time to blink before he fully sheathed himself inside you. The satisfied groan that escaped him filled the room. He nearly slammed his forehead into yours, his eyes clenched shut as he pistoned into you with passionate intensity.

His hips slapped against yours loud enough to echo in his room, the sound of your stifled moans crescendoing with his as your pleasure was clawed from you. Splashing against his thighs, your body spasmed and convulsed under him as you came on his cock.

He whined and stuffed himself inside you as you rode your orgasm, feeling every throb and pulse of your walls on his cock. At the peak of your cry, he grinded into you until his own orgasm spurt from his tip and painted your walls white. His hips didn’t slow down until the last sputter of cum shot from his dick against your cervix.

Pressing your thighs tightly, he let out a strangled moan as he slowly pulled free, wrangling that last bit of tasty overstimulation from your pussy on his sensitive cock.

With a satisfied hum, he lowered his face and used his fingers to pry your thighs open again. Watching his seed dribble from your puffy lips.

“I love you too,” you heard him gruffly whisper before he planted a big, fat kiss on your leaking slit.

Kid crawled over your body until he was towering over you. You could see the reflection of light bounce off the creamy fluid that stained his lips and chin.

He pressed his lips to yours and forced your mouth open. Gathering what he could of his cum and transferring it your mouth. Making you wash it down with his spit. Kid kissed your face and your neck before he finally laid over you. Pinning you to the mattress.

“Sleep tight, princess.”

The next morning, you woke up alone in the room. A platter of breakfast on the nightstand with a note for you.

“You have three days to say it back. Don’t make me force it out of you. I’m willing to wait 9 months to see the physical manifestation of your love for me.”

[buckets-and-trees]

Welcome Home, Pumpkin

a set of three stories featuring Lloyd Hansen

Lloyd Hansen x curvy Millennial Female!Reader

Bad ethics. Zero impulse control. This is what everyone says about him. What will it mean for you when scenarios for three situations are slightly altered?

Author Notes: In spring 2023 I had the idea to write the same story three ways - utilizing some of the same narrative and dialogue elements across all three but yielding very different results to achieve soft, soft!dark, and dark variations. A few weeks ago, I finally got the spark I needed to come back to this concept and make it happen.

Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] explicit smut (with feelings and without feelings), various levels of consent (enthusiastic, dubious, and non-consent), use of pet name "pumpkin"

↠ soft: Sugar Pumpkin ↠ soft!dark: Spiced Pumpkin ↠ dark: Smashed Pumpkin

[queenuchiha89]

ohhh yes def need a part 4 with itachi and preg lil sister 🥺 maybe she hungrily gives him a very needy, messy blowjob, which turn him on so much he face fucks her before creampieing her sweet needy pussy 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 her belly ain’t that noticeable rn but it’s becoming rounder by the day and itachi wans more n more to breed her even tho she’s already pregnant? maybe sasuke starts using her creampied panties to jerk off? 😭plus bonus if sasuke know of sisters pregnancy? sorryyy i just having brainrot of this

The Uchiha brain rot be REAL! which is why my blog exists. 🤣 Totally love it! Ate and left no crumbs! Without further delay, I give you...

Part 4...

*** NSFW ***

*** 18+ MINORS DNI!! ***

*** TW. DARK CONTENT ***

*** TW. DARK CONTENT ***

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ the following story contains but is not limited to incest, voyeurism, dubcon, strong language, and other topics that some readers could potentially find offensive. Viewer discretion is STRONGLY advised!

Y/N looked at herself in the full length mirror in her bedroom, observing her body as it had began to change. She was beginning to show a little pudgy pouch just below her belly button, and her breasts were so sore and swollen. She ran her hand along the tiny bump in her lower belly, knowing full well that it was her older brother Itachi who was responsible. Something about this turned her on in the most disgusting way, but she couldn't resist her own thoughts. Somehow the taboo nature of the situation made it all the more erotic to her in her hormonal state. Y/N sighed and decided if she had to be her big brother's little fuck toy, why shouldn't he have to suffer too??

After changing into something thin and skimpy, she made her way down the hall to her big brother's room, knocking softly before entering. "Itachi... I was wondering if you could help me with something..." Y/N said leaning against the door frame. Itachi looked up "of cou-" Itachi's words fell away as he saw his sweet little sister standing there wearing nothing more than a thin white top, and a pair of black cotton booty shorts. "something wrong Itachi??" She replies and she closes his door behind him, and slowly walking over to the bed and sitting down next to him. Itachi looked her over, God she looked delightful. He cleared his throat "so what was it you needed hel-" before he could finish his question, Y/N pressed her lips against his, taking him off guard. He moaned into her kiss, savoring her sudden shift in attitude towards the whole endeavor. She breaks their kiss, looking deep into his big black eyes, and without warning, pushed him down onto the bed.

With a hungry Itachi had never seen from her before, Y/N pulled off his pants, his already stiff cock springing out and hitting her in the chin. She wasted no time, and greedily took every inch of his thick cock into her mouth. Itachi's head tilted back and a soft moan escaped his lips as the head of his cock hit the back of her throat. Drool coated his cock and balls as he watches his sweet litter sister choke and gag on his cock like a dirty little slut. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off his cock, gasping as she caught her breath. "All I can think about is knocking you up again. Filling up your sweet little pussy with my potent Uchiha seed. You're going to take this cock. Right. Now." He growled as he was swiftly on his feet and pulling her up off the bed.

Itachi forced Y/N's face down onto the bed, holding her head there as he pushed his aching cock deep inside her pregnant pussy, and she moaned in delight. "Fuck little sis, you're so much tighter now that you're pregnant with your big brother's baby..." He moaned thrusting deep inside her wet cunt, their moans and the wet slapping sounds of flesh on flesh filling the room and echoing off the walls. She couldn't take anymore and her body shivered as her pleasure was reaching its max. "itachi i-i can't take anymore! I-im gonna... Fuck!!" Y/N cried out as her walls gripped and pulled around Itachi's cock, milking every drop of his cum out of him. They both tremble against each other as they come down from their orgasms, and reveling in the afterglow of it all. "Next time sis... Just tell me you're hungry for big brother's cock... I'll feed it to you..." Itachi teased making her giggle slightly. She gets dressed and kisses Itachi before leaving the room. On the way to her's, she passes by Sasuke, his cheeks red and flushed. "Hey Sasuke..." She say as she enters her room, shutting the door behind her. Little did she know that Sasuke was struggling to hide his rock hard cock after listening to their encounter in Itachi's room. He quickly entered his room, shutting the door behind him. He quickly heads over to his bed taking a pair of stolen panties from the day before, his sister's juices still coating the crotch... And his older brother's cum. "Ugh... I have to say something but this... But...." Sasuke's hand disappeared inside his shorts. He would worry about that tomorrow....

To Be Continued...

A.N: I've been out of it y'all but trust me I haven't forgotten about you! That being said, my bad on the spelling and/or grammar errors, I will edit when I can. Enjoy! ���🥰🥰

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar 1

Started a new AU called Affectionate Obsession, with Steve Rogers as the first Character Story Series to be told I hope you all enjoy and don't be afraid to tell me what you think.

Dark! Steve Roger x Kiwi! Reader

Warnings:

This story contains themes of emotional manipulation, power imbalance, dubious consent, toxic relationships, and psychological control. It deals with difficult subjects such as forced dependency and mental/emotional abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Description: Kiwi thought she had her life under control—until a chance invitation to the Maldives from her former friend pulls her into a web of manipulation and control. What starts as a luxurious vacation turns into a slow descent into captivity as Steve, the wealthy man funding her escape from reality, begins to tighten his grip on her life. Now trapped in a toxic relationship where affection becomes control, Kiwi must navigate a world where every decision is made for her, every boundary crossed, and escape seems impossible.

Is it too late to reclaim her freedom, or will she succumb to the life Steve has crafted for her?

Story Masterlist

The low hum of the factory machinery buzzed in my ears as I sat in the breakroom, staring at the sad sandwich I’d slapped together this morning. How did I end up here? After years of hard work and late-night study sessions, my Finance degree didn’t seem to mean anything anymore. Instead of crunching numbers and living the life I’d dreamed of, I was here—packaging cardboard boxes and watching my future slip away.

I glanced down at my phone, a knot forming in my throat. Rent was coming up in two weeks, and I had no idea how I was going to scrape the money together. The thought of moving back in with my parents twisted my stomach in knots. No way could I go back to their judgmental looks, the snide remarks about my life choices, or their constant need to belittle everything I’ve done. I'd rather sleep on a park bench than deal with that.

My phone buzzed on the table, jolting me from my thoughts. I looked down at the screen and felt my heart sink a little deeper.

Sharon.

Of all the people who could be reaching out, she was the last person I expected—or wanted—to hear from. We hadn’t spoken since graduation, and that was by design. Things between us hadn’t ended well, and the fact that she was contacting me now couldn’t mean anything good.

With a sigh, I swiped to answer. "Hello?"

"Wow, you actually picked up," Sharon's voice dripped with that same smugness that always made me grit my teeth. "I wasn’t sure if you were still alive."

I rolled my eyes, immediately regretting answering. "Yeah, still kicking. How are you?" I shot back, not even trying to hide my sarcasm.

"Fabulous, of course." Her voice was so sugary sweet it made my stomach churn. "Anyway, I’ll get to the point. A few of us are going on a trip—Maldives. One-month private villa. You should come."

I blinked, trying to process what she’d just said. A month-long vacation in the Maldives? Out of nowhere?

"Uh… I don’t think I can," I muttered, the discomfort rising up my spine. "I’m working right now, and I can’t afford a trip like that."

There was a brief silence, followed by Sharon’s familiar, annoyed huff. "Steve’s paying for everything, so don’t worry about that."

As if money was the only issue. I shook my head, feeling my frustration rise. "It’s not just about money. I can’t take off from work for two months."

"Why not?" she snapped, sounding genuinely confused, like the concept of having to work to survive was foreign to her. "Just quit."

I almost laughed at how ridiculous she sounded. "I can’t just quit, Sharon. I need this job. Some of us actually have bills to pay."

"Whatever," she sighed, clearly losing interest. "Look, if you change your mind, you’ve got three months to figure it out. We’re leaving in July."

I clenched my jaw, fighting back a smart remark. "I’ll let you know."

And with that, she hung up.

I stared at the phone, my mind spinning. Why now? Why was Sharon suddenly interested in inviting me on this extravagant trip after all this time? After everything that happened?

Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I shook off the nagging feeling. Whatever she and her clique were up to, I wasn’t about to fall for it. Not this time.

I had more pressing things to worry about—like making it through the rest of my shift without falling apart.

***

Three weeks after Sharon’s call, I found myself standing in the manager’s office, trying to make sense of the words coming out of her mouth.

“Budget cuts,” Diane said flatly, as if that explained everything.

“But I’m the only one being fired,” I pointed out, confusion mixing with anger. “How does that make sense?”

Diane shrugged, clearly uninterested. “It’s just how things are.”

I knew better than to push back too much, but it still gnawed at me. Budget cuts? No way. This factory wasn’t exactly rolling in dough, but I’d seen plenty of new hires lately. So why me?

As I walked out of her office, I thought back to the time I’d corrected Diane on… well, something trivial. She’d been going on about a new process we had to follow, and I’d pointed out a mistake in her instructions. It wasn’t even that big of a deal. I remembered she’d gone all red in the face, tight-lipped, and I could tell she didn’t appreciate being corrected, but it seemed like she was over it.

Did she have something to do with this? It didn’t make sense. I was practically invisible at the factory. Why would she care?

Still, it stung. Whatever the real reason, I was out of a job.

A few weeks later, my luck hadn’t changed. I spent every waking moment job hunting, praying something would come through before the end of the month. But it didn’t.

When it became clear I couldn’t afford my rent anymore, I had to make a decision: drown in debt or swallow my pride and move back in with my parents.

I hated the idea. But bills were piling up, and the pressure was too much, so I chose my parents.

The moment I walked through the door with my boxes, my mom took it upon herself to help me unpack—which, of course, meant a nonstop commentary on all the poor decisions I’d made in life.

“I told you this would happen,” she said, folding one of my shirts with military precision. “You never listen. You should have stayed closer to home, gone into something practical. But no, you wanted to follow your dreams.”

I clenched my jaw, biting back the urge to snap. It was always the same speech: how I should’ve done this, should’ve done that. As if I didn’t feel bad enough already. But I stayed quiet, nodding along while she reminded me just how incapable I was.

I’d been living with my parents for a month and a half now, and I was at my breaking point. Their constant nagging, the tension, the way they hovered over me—it was driving me insane. I needed out.

One week before Sharon and the girls were set to leave for the Maldives, I caved. Desperation took over, and I found myself texting Sharon, asking if there was still space for me on the trip.

Honestly, I didn’t expect her to respond. But then, there it was: a yes. Along with a list of things to pack and an address of where to meet them.

I stared at my phone in disbelief for a second. I was actually going to do this. Anything to get away from my parents.

When I told them about the trip, their reaction was immediate approval. Of course, the second they heard Sharon and Steve would be there, they were practically pushing me out the door.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” my mom beamed. “Sharon’s such a successful young woman. You should really try to get back on her good side.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course they loved Sharon. She was everything they wanted me to be—successful, put together, and always in the right circles. And Steve? They practically worshiped the guy. The heir to a tech empire. Who wouldn’t?

“Just make sure there’s no more falling outs this time,” my dad added, like I’d ever intentionally ruined things with Sharon.

I remembered the first time I told them about our fallout. They acted like I’d told them I was addicted to drugs, and they never really forgave me for it.

Now, it seemed I was being given a second chance to make everything “right.”

And honestly? I wasn’t sure I wanted to, but at this point, I’d do anything to get away from here.

***

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this whole trip might be some elaborate prank. I half-expected to show up and find a hidden camera crew waiting to embarrass me. But here I was, standing in front of a private jet, struggling with my heavy luggage.

“Need a hand?” a man’s voice cut through my thoughts. Before I could even respond, he was already taking my bags, prying them from my grip with an ease that felt almost dismissive.

"Uh, thanks," I muttered, watching him haul the luggage up the steps of the jet. Was this even real?

Inside, Sharon was waiting, her bright smile as fake as I remembered. “Kiwi! Oh my God, look at you!” Her eyes swept over me, lingering on all the wrong places. “Still… you,” she added, her tone too sharp to be anything close to nice.

“Yeah,” I replied, biting back the instinct to roll my eyes. Same old Sharon. Still poking at me for being shorter and curvier than the rest of them. “Still me.”

I looked to Natasha, Jane and Pepper and waved before following them into the Private Jet.

Sharon smirked, gesturing toward the jet's sleek interior. “Welcome aboard. I bet it’s been a while since you’ve ridden in anything like this?”

I didn’t bother with a response. There were a million reasons why I didn’t fly on private jets, one being that I couldn’t afford too, but it wasn’t worth the energy. I followed Sharon inside, catching sight of the group lounging around like they belonged there.

Steve was the first to greet me, his golden hair practically glowing in the soft light as he flashed that easy smile. “Hey, Kiwi,” he said, patting the seat beside him. His tone was friendly—maybe a little too friendly—but I hesitated. Before I could move, Natasha grabbed my arm and steered me toward a different seat.

“We saved you a spot over here!” Natasha chimed, squeezing my arm with just a bit too much excitement. She shot a quick glance at Steve, then back at me, like there was something I wasn’t picking up on.

Peter was already seated across from me, leaning back with a casual confidence that made me uncomfortable. His dark eyes met mine for a split second, and he gave a small nod. There was nothing awkward or out of place about him—if anything, he looked like he belonged here. Like this was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Glad you could make it,” Peter said, his voice smooth and low. There was something about the way he said it, something that felt off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

The conversations around me were light, but every now and then, I’d catch something—a quick glance between Steve and Peter, a soft chuckle from one of the boys, or Sharon’s eyes sparkling with something that wasn’t amusement. It felt like they were all in on something, like the air was thick with an inside joke I wasn’t a part of.

I tried to brush it off, joining in on the small talk and ignoring the strange tension. But with every shared look between the boys, every lingering gaze from Sharon, that unease just kept creeping back.

It was like they were waiting for something.

Something I wasn’t in on.

***

I stirred awake to the gentle shake of my shoulder and a soft voice calling my name. “Hey, Kiwi, we’ve landed,” Natasha said, with a small grin, wiping her own hands on her lap. “You’ve got a little drool there.”

Still groggy, I wiped at the side of my mouth, feeling my face flush as I tried to erase the evidence of my nap. I sat up, blinking a few times, trying to get my bearings. When I looked around, I noticed the plane was emptier than before.

“Where is everyone?” I asked, my voice still thick with sleep.

Natasha stretched, her arms raising above her head. “They already headed to the villa. I guess they didn’t want to disturb you.”

I glanced over at Peter, still slouched in his seat, eyes closed, completely knocked out. The soft rise and fall of his chest made him look so peaceful, like the weight of the world wasn’t even a concern. He hadn’t noticed anything either.

Natasha smirked, shrugging. “I felt bad leaving you two alone, so I stayed back.”

I looked between Natasha and Peter, my stomach twisting. “Oh… right,” I muttered, feeling a familiar awkwardness settle over me. My head dropped slightly. It wasn’t the first time I felt like an outsider with these people, but moments like this seemed to make it worse.

Natasha didn’t say anything, but she gave me a look, one that spoke volumes without needing words. Then she moved toward Peter, giving him a nudge. He jolted awake, eyes wide as if he had no idea where he was. “Where is everyone?” he asked, his voice a little too casual.

Natasha repeated the same thing she told me, though this time, there was a teasing edge to her tone. “They left for the villa, but I didn’t want to leave you two sleeping on the plane.”

Peter ran a hand through his messy hair, giving a lazy stretch before standing up. I wondered if I was overthinking things, but Natasha’s earlier look stayed in the back of my mind.

“Alright, let’s catch up,” Peter said, flashing that easygoing smile of his.

As soon as I stepped off the plane, the warm, salty air hit me, carrying the scent of the ocean and sun. Waiting outside was a sleek black car, ready to take us to the villa. Peter led the way, while Natasha shot me an encouraging smile, like she knew exactly what I was thinking but wouldn’t say it out loud.

But once we got in the car, the excitement that had been bubbling inside me during the plane ride started to fizzle. Reality was sinking in, fast. I stared out the window as the scenery blurred by, and that familiar, sinking feeling crept in.

What am I even doing here?

Every part of me was screaming that this was a mistake. I didn’t belong here. These people had made me feel out of place back then—why would now be any different? I had spent so much time trying to distance myself from them, so why was I here now, in the same circle that made me feel like I wasn’t enough?

Was it going to be like this the entire trip? A constant feeling of not fitting in? The idea of spending two months like this, constantly questioning why I came, made my chest tighten.

I imagined stopping the car right there, getting out, and figuring out a way to go home. But how? I came here with them, and I was stuck until they decided to leave. There wasn’t exactly an easy way out.

I sighed, feeling a knot form in my throat as the tears threatened to well up. But I fought them back, forcing myself to take a deep breath. ‘Hold it together,’ I told myself. There was no way I was going to fall apart in front of Peter, Natasha, or anyone else.

I stared out at the horizon, the villa still nowhere in sight, trying to clear the anxious storm swirling inside me. I would just have to figure this out somehow. I always did.

***

When Natasha, Peter, and I finally arrived at the villa, the others had already claimed their rooms. The place was breathtaking—open spaces, stunning ocean views, and a luxurious atmosphere that screamed money. I was almost tempted to be impressed until Sharon appeared, smug as ever, pointing to the far side of the villa.

"Natasha, Peter, your rooms are down the hall," she said with a wave of her hand before turning to me. Without a word or explanation, she just motioned to the other side of the villa, not even bothering to look me in the eye.

I stood there for a second, waiting for...something. Maybe an explanation, a reason for the sudden isolation, but nothing. No one said anything. Natasha gave me a quick, apologetic glance, but even she stayed quiet.

“Guess I'm on my own then.”

I walked in the direction Sharon had pointed, my suitcase bumping against my heels as I made my way down the corridor. The villa was massive, sprawling in all directions, but as I got closer to my room, I noticed how much plainer and utilitarian the space became. The opulence of the rest of the villa seemed to vanish the farther I went.

And then I found it—a small, one-off room that looked like it had been tacked on as an afterthought. My stomach twisted as I stepped inside. It didn’t have the same elegance as the other rooms I’d seen. The furniture was basic, the decor minimal, and there was no sign of the luxury that was displayed on the other side of the villa.

It looked like a remodeled servant’s quarter. I knew the vibe all too well. Being around people like Sharon, I had seen enough servant quarters to know what one looked like, no matter how much they tried to pretty it up.

I stood there for a moment, soaking it all in. There had to be at least one or two other rooms left over in this massive villa, but I wasn’t given one of those. No, this room was chosen specifically for me. The message was loud and clear: *Know your place. *

I set my suitcase down with a sigh, biting back the frustration swelling in my chest. I should have expected this. I knew what I was getting into when I accepted the invite.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my half-unpacked suitcase, trying to figure out a game plan for the next two months. The thought of spending all that time with these people—people who barely knew me, or worse, remembered me only for what I wasn’t—made my stomach twist. I didn’t want to be ignored the entire trip, but becoming a complete recluse would probably just make things worse. What if they just... left me behind?

The more I thought about it, the more frustrated I got. The walls seemed to inch closer, squeezing the air out of the room. My anxiety gnawed at me from the inside. Was this really worth getting away from my parents?

Before I could spiral any further, a light knock on the doorframe jolted me from my thoughts. I turned to see Natasha standing there with a soft smile and a casual “Hey.”

I forced a smile in return. "Hey," I said, trying to sound less flustered than I felt.

Natasha stepped inside, looking around the room before glancing back at me. “Nice room,” she commented.

I glanced at her, trying to figure out if she was joking. Was she being serious? Because this room—my room—was anything but nice. It was clearly the smallest, most tucked-away space in the entire villa. My little corner of the world, far from everyone else.

“Yeah,” I muttered, not sure what else to say.

“They’re about to get ready for lunch in like two minutes,” Natasha added, a little too breezily, as if she hadn’t noticed how awkward this all felt.

"Okay," I said, figuring that was her cue to leave. But instead of leaving, she sat down on the edge of the bed, her gaze still fixed on me, like she was waiting for something.

I shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do next. “Was there… something else?” I asked, hesitantly, trying to figure out what this impromptu visit was really about.

Natasha took a deep breath, still staring me down before stating “Sharon invited you to keep Peter busy.”

  I froze for a moment, blinking in disbelief as Natasha’s words settled in. "Wait… what do you mean I was invited to keep Peter busy?"

Natasha’s shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze for a moment before facing me again "Look, it wasn’t meant to be a big deal. Sharon didn’t want things to be awkward, you know? If you didn’t come, there would've been an odd number, and Steve didn’t want to leave Peter behind."

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “So, I was invited to… what? Be Peter’s distraction?”

She shrugged, looking almost apologetic. "Well, it’s not like it’s a bad thing. You two are both nice people, right? It’s not like it was meant to offend you or anything"

I stared at her, still trying to process this. Peter? Then it hit me.

"What about Clementine?" I asked, my curiosity spiking. Last I heard, she and Peter were still together. Sure, she hadn’t been on the plane, but I figured maybe she was meeting up with us later. They were inseparable, after all.

Natasha shrugged again, but there was something uneasy in her eyes this time. "I don’t know. Sharon thinks they broke up, but…"

"But?" I pressed, sensing there was more to it.

She sighed, glancing away. "Clementine kind of just… disappeared. She stopped coming around, and Peter stopped talking about her. It’s weird, though. I don’t think anyone really knows what happened."

The room suddenly felt colder, and the walls seemed to close in again. Clementine disappeared? And now I was supposed to… what? Be Peter's distraction? None of this made sense, and yet, it felt like I was being pulled into something I wasn’t ready for.

I stared at Natasha, my mind spinning as she casually shrugged off the fact that Clementine had just disappeared. Clementine wasn’t the kind of girl to just vanish without a trace. She was... put together. Confident, smart, driven. The kind of girl who had her entire life mapped out from the moment she could walk.

Clementine had been a scholarship kid, just like me, but that’s where our similarities ended. She had that type of grace and poise that people like me only dreamed of. I remember seeing her around campus, always looking so polished, so in control, even though she came from a background as modest as mine. She had Peter wrapped around her finger—he adored her. At least, that’s what I’d always thought. They were practically inseparable.

The last time I heard anything about her, she was starting some fancy job after graduation, and Peter was supposedly gearing up to propose. That’s what people like Clementine did. She climbed the ladder, no matter where she came from, and she always seemed to have everything fall perfectly into place.

I couldn't wrap my head around this. How did she go from being Peter’s "forever" to just... disappearing? And now *I* was here? Supposed to "keep Peter busy" like some sort of replacement? None of this was making any sense.

Natasha’s voice brought me back to the moment. "Yeah, it was weird, right?" she continued, leaning back casually. "Peter just stopped mentioning her, like she never existed. He’s been pretty chill about the whole thing. But Sharon thinks they broke up, and... I don’t know, maybe she’s right. Maybe that’s why you’re here."

I shook my head, trying to process. "Clementine wouldn’t just disappear. She wasn’t like that. She had a plan, she was going to—"

Natasha cut me off. "Well, plans change, right? Maybe she wasn’t as perfect as you think. People always hide stuff. Maybe Peter saw something in her that no one else did."

The idea didn’t sit right with me. Clementine always seemed untouchable, like she had everything figured out. Now, she was just… gone. And here I was, caught in some ridiculous plan to "keep Peter busy."

I started gearing up to confront Sharon, but Natasha quickly stepped in front of me, stopping me before I could make it to the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, her voice edged with concern.

"I just want to have a little chat with Sharon," I replied, trying to sidestep her. But Natasha moved again, blocking me. She lowered her voice, clearly not wanting to make a scene.

"You're being ridiculous. Just calm down and think about this." Her eyes darted around nervously. "This is supposed to be a vacation. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You could still enjoy yourself, Kiwi."

I paused and turned to face her, frustration bubbling up. "That was always the plan, but why did you have to tell me about Sharon’s little setup with Peter?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but it was sharp.

"I was just giving you a heads up," Natasha said softly, her eyes pleading.

I sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. But I couldn’t just let it go. Without saying another word, I turned and marched toward Sharon and Steve’s room, Natasha trailing behind me, still begging me to think it through.

When I reached the door, I didn’t hesitate—I slammed it open. There, on top of Steve, was Sharon, practically tangled up with him. She scrambled off him the second she saw me, her face flushed. Steve, on the other hand, just stayed where he was, smirking like the whole thing was a joke to him.

"What the hell is your problem?" Sharon snapped, straightening out her clothes.

I didn’t flinch. "I want to go home."

I thought about calling her out right then and there, exposing the whole plan about setting me up with Peter. But I couldn’t do that—not without throwing Natasha under the bus. As much as I was irritated with her, I wasn’t ready to burn that bridge. So I kept it simple.

"This whole trip has been uncomfortable for me since I got on the plane. If it’s going to be like this for a whole months I don’t want to stay."

Sharon's expression shifted, her irritation melting into a smirk. "Sure, whatever."

Just as I was about to turn and leave, Steve’s deep voice cut through the air. "No."

I froze, watching as Steve got up from the bed, his frame towering over me. It was then that I realized how much bigger he was compared to me. He took a step closer, his eyes locked on mine.

"Why not?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Steve gave me a cold, calculated smile. "The itinerary is already set, Kiwi. We can’t just change everything around because one person is feeling a little uncomfortable."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I’ll pay you back," I offered, even though I knew it was a desperate move.

Steve laughed, a low, mocking sound. "You have over a hundred grand to pay back?"

My stomach dropped as he kept going. "I heard you were working at some factory for, what, twenty bucks an hour? I’m guessing since you suddenly had time for this trip, you lost that gig, huh?"

I could feel my face flushing as I tried to think of a way out. "I don’t need a private jet home," I said quietly. "Just a ride and an economy seat. I’ll figure it out."

Steve shook his head, stepping even closer. "You still owe me for your part of the trip," he said, his voice cold and final.

The reality of the situation hit me like a punch to the gut. I was trapped, and Steve was making damn sure I knew it.

Steve’s eyes softened as he stood in front of me, his posture relaxed, like he was trying to show he wasn’t a threat. He moved to block my way, but not in an intimidating way—it felt more like he was trying to keep me from making a mistake.

“You’re upset,” he said, his voice gentler now, almost coaxing. “I get it, Kiwi, I really do. But leaving right now? That’s not what you really want.”

I frowned, crossing my arms, my defenses already up. “I’m uncomfortable, Steve. Why would I stay?”

He sighed softly, brushing a hand through his tousled blonde hair. “Look, I get that things have been a little weird, but think about it. Going back home, what’s waiting for you there? Things weren’t exactly great, were they?”

I blinked, surprised by his words. It was vague, but it still struck a nerve. My chest tightened at the reminder of how suffocating life at home had been.

Steve stepped closer, but there was no malice in his movements. If anything, his presence felt like it was wrapping around me, enveloping me in something familiar yet foreign.

“Why rush back to all that?” he asked, his voice low, almost tender. “You’ve got a chance here to take a break, to really breathe.”

I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure. He wasn’t exactly wrong. I hadn’t been thrilled about the idea of going back to my parents’ house—being treated like I’d failed, like I was just in the way.

“That’s not the point,” I muttered, my voice not as strong as I wanted it to be. “I didn’t come here to feel like an outsider.”

Steve’s expression shifted, softening even more. He moved closer, but not threateningly—just enough to let me know he was serious. “You don’t have to. No one here is against you, Kiwi. You’ve got space here to be free, to enjoy yourself. You’re not stuck.”

His words, smooth and almost too perfect, started to chip away at my defenses. He wasn’t wrong. There was a kind of freedom here that I didn’t have back home. No hovering parents, no endless job hunt. Just sun, sand, and a chance to let go of the chaos.

“I just want you to give it a shot,” Steve continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “If, after a week, you still feel like this… I’ll make sure you get home. Personally. But for now, just relax. Let yourself enjoy it.”

I hesitated, my mind a tug-of-war between the stress and frustration that had been building and the calm that Steve was offering. He seemed so reasonable, so understanding. Was I just being paranoid? Maybe I needed to take a step back and see if things improved.

“Alright,” I said finally, my voice soft. “I’ll stay. But just for a week.”

A slow smile spread across Steve’s face, his satisfaction clear, though he tried to hide it behind his cool demeanor. “Good. I knew you’d see things my way.”

He stepped back, giving me space, and for a moment, I felt the weight lift just a little. Natasha, who had been quietly watching, caught my eye, but her expression was hard to read. Maybe I wasn’t seeing the full picture. Or maybe I was just overthinking everything.

Am I making the right call? ***

Steve moved me out of the servant’s quarters and into a small, luxury room. It wasn’t anywhere near the others, but it was closer to the pool in the back, so I figured I could make do. At least it didn’t feel like a forgotten corner of the house.

As I unpacked, Natasha stayed with me, folding clothes and organizing things like she was trying to smooth over the mess from earlier.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, breaking the quiet. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, not entirely sure if I believed her or if she was just trying to stay on good terms. The side-eye I gave her must’ve said enough because she added, “Seriously, Kiwi. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”

I sighed, my shoulders relaxing a little. “It’s fine,” I muttered. "Just... don’t spring shit like that on me again."

Natasha nodded, her expression softening. “I promise. I just want you to enjoy the trip. We all do.”

Enjoy the trip. Right. That’s what I kept telling myself. I needed to enjoy myself, no matter what. To hell with everyone else. To hell with Sharon’s power plays and the thinly veiled insults. To hell with my parents, and their endless nagging about how I should’ve been more like Sharon. To hell with all of it.

I glanced around my new room, taking in the sleek design, the comfortable bed, and the view of the pool. This wasn’t so bad. Maybe I could actually breathe for a while. Just focus on enjoying the sun, the beach, the space.

Yeah. Fuck everyone. I was going to make this trip mine.

[watermelinoe]

forced birthers think penetration is inherently dehumanizing. they think that because you let a man's penis inside you that you've surrendered yourself. you must passively carry his child because your body is no longer your own. penetration is domination and that's why they will never see women as fully human, because we only exist to eventually be taken by a man. none of the arguments about when life begins matter because the woman's life was never really hers to begin with.

[diejager]

Pervy!Roommate!König

Pairing: Pervy!Roommate!Könif x fem!reader

Cw: DUB-CON/NON-CON, DARKFIC, smut, creampie, somnophilia, panty sniffing, panty stealing, peeking, stalking, rough sex, scent/musk kink, possessive behaviour, handjob, erotic fantasy, more to be added.

Parts:

New roommate

Deep sleep

Baby

Camera

Extra:

Lotion

Friend

Tits

Due Rent [male!reader]

[terrence-silver]

Is Terry the type to baby trap his beloved or would he just let it happen

---

Depends vastly of the circumstances.

He adapts.

Ideally, I feel Terry would, much like anyone else under the sun pretty much, deeply want for his partner to want to have his children more than anything else. To thank him for the opportunity. To be grateful. To look forward to it with every ounce of their being. Heck, to even beg, if possible, so he can relish the act, the attention and the supremacy he has over another living person being so enamored with him. He wants to draw that out of them. Incentify them. Inspire them. Be the only man they'd ever conceive having offspring with. But, if push came to shove, and they were hesitating, showing signs of being willing to slip away from his grasp somewhere in the near or distant future (ha-ha, nice try), giving out mixed signals, being hot and then cold? Not being dedicated enough to him and a future legacy? Hey, extreme situations require extreme measures, right? And this extreme situation calls upon him to do just do what he wants to do and simply impregnate beloved and ensure they're tied to him permanently, one way or another, seeing as how he ain't willing to relinquish something he desires and covets. He's gonna secure beloved one way or another, morality flying out the window. He relishes in either outcome, you see --- be it consensual in nature or of more dubious circumstances, because it's all sport either ways and whatever the method, however dark, however disturbed, he'll come out victorious. On top.

The ends justify the means, after all.

Of course, he can very easily use the oldest trick in the book and humbly state that a slip up happened and that --- boom --- beloved ended up pregnant seeing as how they weren't diligent enough to mutually take good care; simply something that happens in the heat of the moment and the height of passion and beloved does makes him oh so passionate, he might say (something that isn't a lie whatsoever, nonetheless, it's a serviceable tool to sell this story believably) --- still, it's hilarious that a control oriented perfectionist and micromanager like Terry would ever subscribe to accidents and overlooking something so crucial, regardless, he'll gaslight, he'll sweetly manipulate, he'll convince, he'll blame the fact that beloved makes him so horny that contraceptives just became an afterthought for a moment there and it's all a big part of his baby trapping scheme. To hide the fact this wasn't an innocent slip up and that he very much planned this all along; a need that only gets stronger and more pronounced as Terry Silver ages, I feel. He might think he's old and that as such, he's willing to lie, cheat and scam if it means securing himself at least an ounce of happiness by any means necessary as fast as possible, because time's running out and he's back is against the wall and that's bullshit. He doesn't like his back against the wall. He bites when he's against the wall. It's now or never. All the stars aligned. Love and desire and that one chance he's not gonna let go, becoming more insidious and unpredictable than ever.

But that is, he's just as willing to gloat over what he's done.

I think he cannot resist gloating (which is often this man's downfall).

It's in his nature to highlight the perverse and evil things he's done.

Enjoy himself while doing it.

Beloved might be there with their newborn and Terry could very well be barely containing himself from just looking them straight in the eye and telling them that he's done what he's done because it was pre-planned that it would pan out like this all along because he always gets what he wants the way he wants it. Heck, the idea alone makes him hard with absolute rotten glee.

[skepticalpigeon]

Imagine a world where they show pictures of all the most common injuries and afflictions that can occur during pregnancy, graphic photos of the vagina immediately after birth, and all the other gnarly shit that comes with carrying a pregnancy to term before they let a woman choose not to get an abortion.

[burstingwithbellies]

For the longest while, I’ve just been so obsessed with doctors as a partner/baby daddy. Specifically, a domineering doctor who has full total control over my pregnancy.

Your doctor holds so much power over you, you know. Maybe even more so than your partner does. Yes, your partner knocked you up but your doctor would be the one to know everything about pregnancy, your particular pregnancy and your body. And they could easily determine decisions for you as well as demand something out of you if you are seeking their expertise. Nearly anything that comes out of a doctor’s mouth would go.

You and I could easily be misconstrued or be taken advantage of by the wrong doctor. I would be so vulnerable under my doctor’s rule…

A fantasy that has been occupying my mind for a long time now is my doctor, who is scanning my massive belly that’s just a few months along but already super heavy with many, many children (I don’t know how many yet but I can feel it’s a great deal), and he just keeps making this plethora of unprofessional, inappropriate remarks at me through my ultrasound, much to my humiliation.

“I can see you have been very busy…”

���My, my, look at how many there are. Couldn’t keep it down to one, could you?”

“You might need to invest in some bigger clothes. But only if you want.”

“Someone’s well-bred ~”

“I see that you can take on many babies, but I don’t see a single father of these children in sight,”

I whimper at each insult he throws at me, but I don’t stop it. I can’t. He’s my doctor; I need him to tell me what to do with all these babies. And it’s not like I could get up and storm off. The babies are really heavy and he did help me get into his office, so he would need to also help me out of it as well.

My physical examination with him gets a little too physical. Before my ultrasound, he feels around my belly with his hands. I shouldn’t argue with how he does his job, I can’t just do that, but, the examination had started to feel a little nefarious after a while.

He lingers on my gut for far too long. I can hear him whisper “Shit…” and “Fuck…” to himself as he cast his eyes over my ginormous, gravid tummy. He is grunting and his eyes are really capturing an image of all of me, but I am very huge, so....

And at some point, I see his pants pitch a tent.

And when he tells me I’m huge, I have to believe it. It was true, but I also knew that whether or not I was really big or not, I would have felt huge after he said that to me. I couldn’t deny whatever a doctor says. Hell, if he told me I’m big, I would have felt ten times bigger. He could tell me that I’m exactly 200 lbs, but I would still feel 1000, so many times even heavier when I heard come out of his mouth.

And as I grow more, I become more helpless to his advances and gave less effort to avoid them.

His hand, each time I visit, travels lower and lower to the underside of my belly; to where my crotch each day. He pats my ass now and talks about how plump I’m getting with my rapid weight increase. He gropes my breasts, plays with them and lies to me, saying that he’s ‘just checking to see if they’re growing accordingly.” But then, he teases me for how full of milk they are.

When I ask finally: “Do you treat all your patients like this?”

He would tell me “no” cause I’m special. I need to a doctor who makes me feel like this; a pathetic ball of babies and fat.

[decaydanceredacted]

18 year old tboy patrick letting 22/23 year old pete take his virginity the SECOND he turns legal and telling pete to just pull out so he doesn't get pregnant. pete agreeing and once he says he's close patrick tells him again to pull out but he isn't moving. patrick getting increasingly frantic begging pete to pull out because he's too young to be a mommy but when pete finally cums he SLAMS his hips in so there's no WAY the pregnancy doesn't take. sorry patrick looks like you're gonna have to be a teen mama after all :((

(bonus points if throughout the pregnancy pete refuses to cum anywhere but directly onto patricks growing tummy)

.

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar

Complete

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

[lgbtlunaverse]

Payment for surrogacy gets really complicated because on one hand paying for it means most surrogates will end up being lower class women who need the money and will be easier to exploit, something which is rife in the current implementation of surrogacy, but on the other hand being pregnant is genuinely like body horror to me and I think that if you go through that for someone else you should get a billion dollars.