#looking at him actually makes my womb ache

[scenedenial]

ebon moss bachrach is actually one of the most handsome men i have ever laid eyes on. the freckles. the mile long eyelashes. i need him carnally

#looking at him actually makes my womb ache #ebon moss bachrach #wowwwwww

[screampied]

hey i LOVE your work and ykk ou ur toji is just like… UGHHHH

could you do a mean toji who just mocks the reader and makes fun of her while she gets off on him (like idk his thighs or whatever) or when he fucks her? i feel like you would write this very well;)

❤︎ ໋𓈒 toji mocking your moans while you ride him

warnings. fem! reader, thigh riding & cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, ōrgasm denial, breath play, spanking. + thank you sm !! mdni

“we’re quite handsy today, huh,” he’d mumble once his eyes flicker down towards your nude body—you suck in a single breath as he’s got you just barely straddling his lap. with an unsatisfied pout, you’re just here moving up and down against his beefy thigh—oh so desperately wishing that you were riding him instead of his stupid, stupid leg. toji’s amusement only fuels the more you frown and scowl, pawing your hands up his perfectly chiseled thighs before he snickers. “what’s the issue? my thigh not enough to satisfy the pretty girl?”

“no..” you immediately say, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. he could hear the irritation linger on your tone before you bury your face into his neck . . a good waft of his loud cologne scent infiltrating inside your nostrils.

two rugged hands drag down your back, sending you multiple shivers from his touch before he replies in a hoarse tone. “well, that’s too damn bad,” and his chortling laugh only makes you throb from how close it’s against your ear—fuck. “actually, y’know what. i feel like bein’ nice today, baby. you want more than my thigh? how ‘bout ya jus’ ask me nicely.”

“but—”

“but—nothin’ girl, now speak,” toji utters, feeling your grinding against his thigh—grabbing your chin softly before making you stare him right in the eyes. he slyly grins, a thumb tracing down your dampened lip. “i’ll wait.. talk to me nice, girl.”

your eyes avert towards his dick, just laying there on his stomach—so ridiculously lengthy, a mere tannish color coats it - including his leaky tip that stares right back at you.

it looks so good, you wanted him inside so bad that it hurts—he could tell too, you found it hard to stay still as you made a cute attempt at rutting against him once more.

“i— i want you, ‘toji,” you claw at his body with doe lit eyes, his swollen base—so full of unused seed that you desperately yearned for it to be inside of you, filling up your pretty little womb. “want you s'bad.”

“oh i know you do, babygirl,” he rasps, he can’t help but notice the sudden boner that makes his jaw tighten. coarse big hands grip both of your hips before he gawks at you with that same tantalizingly smug grin. “can’t just spoil ya all the time though, talk more for me. i like listenin’ to that needy voice.”

ugh, you start to grow impatient and he only laughs at your sheer annoyed expense.

“please,” you murmur out in a whiney tone, slowly wrapping your clammy fingers around his length. he doesn’t stop you, he lets you touch all over him, aligning yourself with the fat weight of his cock that was just aching to be buried within you. “i wanna ride you so bad, ‘toj. need it, need your cum.”

“girl you don’t need . . . shit,” he swallows, a cold sweat breaking onto him.

you’re fucking hot—especially whenever you just take what you want, toji could have creamed his pants at just your voice and your voice alone.

you had him so hard, he sucks his teeth in total exasperation before he feels you slowly start to sink him down. “fuck, y’er such a little brat,” he mutters, feeling the warmth of your walls swallow him whole. it was a moist feeling, you were already a bit soaked—purely from riding his thigh for how many minutes, you weren’t even sure anymore, nor did you even relatively care. “ride me then, do y’er fuckin’ worst then.”

“shut up and i will.” you snap back.

he rolls his eyes, feeling your ass thrash against his lap and it makes him squeeze the plush mounds of your rear.

“eh, i really don’t like that mouth,” and he spanks you harder, this time it stings and you moan—he’s so thick that your stomach starts to seize once you feel him gradually reach into the depths of your pussy. “when you ride me, there shouldn’t be any back talk, girl,” and he grabs your chin for the nth time, pressing a sweltering wet kiss right onto your glossed lips. “. . . are we clear or do i gotta let this pussy know what goes ‘round here.”

…so cocky,

you gnaw at your lip—fighting back the urge to roll your own eyes backwards before you thrust against him harder.

it’s relentless, the brutal skin-to-skin contact makes a raw moan harshly yank from the back of your throat as your hands continue to claw on his chest.

his bare chest that was already glistening with droplets of sweat. he was so toned, his pecs—his nipples that were swollen and a sheeny pink color, you even attempt to lean in to lap your tongue against his nipple but he lightly shoves you back.

“leave those alone, slut,” and you conceal back a laugh—by 'those', he was most likely referring to his tits broad pecs. “ride me, ‘n hurry up. ‘m gonna fall asleep at this rate.”

toji never knew how to simply shut the fuck up, such a talkative man—whispering filthy sweet nothings into your ear as you’re taking every thick inch of his cock. he stretches you out so good that you’re already whimpering, eyes goggling profusely at the way his angry tip just thwacks and thwacks against your g-spot. “s-shiiit, toji,” you’d curse out in a sharp breath, continuing to drag your hips further against him at such a pace.

in and out, in and out, you’re rotating your waist a bit before he grunts lowly, head throwing back and he smacks your ass yet again, and again, and again. “fuck yeah, ride me jus’ like that. such a good girl, takin’ this dick like the good girl you are, mhm.”

“t—tojiiiii,” you’d mewl out right against the flapping shell of his ear. your cunt felt so stuffed, a straining exhale snatches from your lungs before you whimper once his base kisses against your ass. his base was so full, you only imagined how much build up cum was stored in there just for you.

“t—tojiiiiiii,” he mimics your tone as you mash against him, the sofa he sits on sinking down a bit from both weights combined. you pout once he starts mocking you, a gruff laugh dies from his throat before he squeezes your right ass cheek. “feels good, yeah? keep moanin’ for me like that.”

“shut up, s-shut uppp,” you moan, burying your face into his neck. doing so, you get a concise whiff of his cheap cologne and it smells so good. you’re a mess, spasming as your stomach continues to seize before he grabs both of your hips so that you could slam down onto him even harder. “close, toji. ‘m really close, fuck.”

he groans, feeling the hefty weight of his balls smack against your skin each time you move up, then down, then up . . . all over again. toji’s a big guy, it was no secret. the way your pussy constricts around his length, paving way for more movement . . . simply hypnotizing.

“yeahhh,” he snarls, strong hands still attached to your ass. green irises of his dilate, his eyes turn hooded for a second as he glances back at you. an entire mess, tongue all lolled out and you’re feeling it steadily about to approach. “look so fuckin’ dumb,” he points out with a subtle head shake, grabbing your chin again. “my dumb baby,” he corrects himself and your pout softens.

he’s so fucking big— you’ll point this out a million times if you have to, the stretch was so immaculate.

toji groans, pressing another saturated kiss onto your lips and you taste a brief mixture of his saliva and alcohol—presumably rum, you lean into his touch before feeling his big hands snake near your neglected tits. his growing stubble tickles against your face as you quicken your pace. so good, so fucking good.

all you can think about is that you’re getting off, you’re about to finish— gush out so much, you feel a familiar pit in your stomach arise. he feels you starting to shake and twitch, it’s cute.

“. . easy, now,” he teases, finding it adorable how whenever your orgasm approaches—you’d be an entire mess, pussy convulsing all on his cock as if it was the first time you ever took him. “oh my just look at that pout,” he points out, reaching towards your chin before bringing you all up close towards his face. not to mention, toji’s so pretty up close—ten times more intimidating with his low hazy eyes and wide sleazy smile. “such a baby. want me to talk ya through it?”

“p—please,” you whine, barely even giving him a chance to finish his seductive sentence.

with a playful eyebrow furrow, he makes you grind against him even harder. the sofa creaks and you squeak out a whimper, feeling yourself about to make such a mess. “please, please,” he copies your tone again, and it’s so embarrassing. toji purposely pitches his tone to sound like you and he snickers at the growing glare on your face. “please what, babygirl?”

with an irritated grumble, your flimsy arms still thrown over him, you moan out a desperate, “please let me c-cum. toji, i want it s’bad, pleaseplease let me be a messy girl.”

“. . . ahhhh,” he parts his lips, and he’s oh so dramatic, flickering his eyes towards the ceiling as if he’s deep in thought. “let me think about it.”

you didn’t know how much you could take, you’re sopping wet and his raspy deep voice that was right up against your earlobe doesn’t make things any better.

jagged breaths rip out from your esophagus as your shaky limbs could barely keep themselves up. he cackles, feeling your soft quavering lips kiss near his face, brushing against the scar that runs near the right lower part of his lip. it twitches as a response from your touch, how cute..

“hurry the fuck up then, lay it all on me,” he finally grunts, witnessing the way your dilated irises light up at his sudden permission— you whimper out, finally coming undone and it’s like a rough wave that crashes over you. the calm before the storm, once it comes, you’re left pulsating with his thick dick still buried inside of your cunt. you hug him tight with your walls like a vice, never wanting to let go. “you make such the silliest noises, girl.”

“s— shut up,” you moan, the under parts of your thighs aching heavily as you’re still in the midst of your teeth-shattering release. it feels so good, your maw drops and the contracts inside of your pussy only duplicates. it’s mouth watering, you grind against him just slightly and he spanks your ass, head going back. “i- i love you, toji.”

“i love me too,” he jibes with a cocky grin, sweat beads racing down the sides of his brow. you shoot him a glare and he rolls his eyes for the nth time. “. . kidding,” and he plants a kiss near your forehead, rough hand still attached to your right ass cheek like velcro. “i love you too, sweetheart.”

you’re still panting, but he’s clearly not done talking— it’s toji, figures.

“now bend the fuck over,” he grouses, eyes gazing towards your ass— a tongue goes against his lips like he was preparing for an appetizing meal. “i’m not finished. we gotta work on that lazy arch of yours, girl.”

#★vegasbaby. #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #dilf toji #toji fushiguro x reader #cw sex mention

[ghouljams]

ALSO if roachs womb signature is fae magic,, when he meets up with ghost or the other guys by chance with bookworm (his darling) dO THEY STEAL HIS IDEA??? AND like imagine price somehow hearing this idea and just drifts off into a daydream about his Witch having a *permanent* mark of him, and not even that but its his NAME? duuude hes just gone

*gripping your shoulders and gritting my teeth* do you have any idea how badly I want to give Witch a womb tattoo. Do you have any idea how fucking feral I am for this woman? How feral Price is for her???? GOD

"You're all caged up again," Price tells you looking over the spread you'd laid out this morning. A full tableau of Lenormand, it's a new moon and you'd like to see what coming. You hum, stirring an extra spoon of honey into your ginger tea.

"Correct," you tell him, let him fill in the rest since he's so- You take a breath to steady your thoughts, there's no need to snap over a little concern. "It's that time of the month," you sigh, "don't want anything sniffing me out."

"Blood and magic," Price agrees, "better safe than sorry." He goes back to inspecting your cards. You hardly think he knows what he's looking at, parsing the spiral can make even you a little dizzy.

You assume that's the end of that and go back to your tea. The magical cage you put yourself in makes you a little nauseous the first day, easy enough to remedy. Your lips twitch into a frown as your spell work shifts. The ashen paint and runes moving like snakes against your skin. You don't like that one bit. You turn to look at Price who has his hand raised, his finger stilled in the air at your glaring.

"Don't," you warn him, your skin burning with foreign magic.

"I can help," he promises and you go to stand in front of him. You grip his chin, tip his head back to look at you, his hands grip your hips, thumbs digging into your stomach and rubbing out the ache of cramps.

"I don't need help," you tell him sternly.

"You're all caged up when I can just-" he presses his palm bellow your belly button and your stomach jumps. Heat swims through you, scorches over you really, all your seals forgotten in favor of clutching at Price's shoulders and shuddering. He smooths his hand around to hold your back, tug you close to press his face against you. You can hear the heavy inhale of his breathing, smelling you, smelling whatever he did. "God," he breathes, "you are going to hate this."

"What did you do?" Your suspicion seems to break whatever spell is over him. Price lets you go, leans back and waves a hand.

"Temporary measure, don't worry," that makes you more worried actually, "better than your cage, prettier too."

You don't waste time trying to parse what he means, you go to your bedroom and strip. It's hard to miss. All your previous marks seem to have consolidated themselves over your pelvis. Sigils loop over your womb, spreading up your hips like the limbs of a tree to spell out Price's name. You could kill him. You might kill him. It's weird that your cramps are gone.

You glare at Price's mark. You can feel his magic hugging you, the tendrils of it stroking your muscles. You wonder if he's siphoning off the pain, if he's eating your magic through whatever he's drawn on you. You don't bother getting dressed when you storm out to confront him. Better to do this on unequal footing you think.

#cod x reader #x reader #cod x oc #x oc #1fae1 #john price #john price mw2 #john price x reader #captain john price #john price x oc #captain price x reader #captain price cod #captain price mw2 #captain price #fae!price #oc: witch #tw periods #f!reader #afab!reader #price as soon as he sees witch with his mark: whatever you say beautiful im not arguing with you

[yanderenightmare]

Can we get incel shiggy hating himself for actually (deep down) feeling soft for his darling and taking it out on her?

Shigaraki Tomura

TW: NSFW, yandere, abuse, incel misogyny, mean shiggy

fem reader

You cry and shield yourself, crawling into the darkest corner of the room. "Please-" You plead – a small shaking hand held up in the slimmest and weakest of efforts – and sadly, all you could to protect yourself.

Your whimpers are never-ending and act like a drill to the heart and everything else soft inside of him – churning his guts and splitting his mind.

He growls. "Shut up-" Grabbing you by the hair and hauling you up and out of your curled state.

"Please, Tomura, please- I'll be good, I promise-" You cry, trying to shelter yourself though without pushing him away – scared to have your wrist snapped in punishment.

"Keep my fucking name out of your mouth." He hisses, sparing you and your silly pleas no mercy when throwing you down on the mattress – stomach and face first.

"I'm sorry-" You feel your heart jump to your throat, knowing and dreading what is to come but only allowing yourself to twist the sheets in curled, trembling fists in spite of it – cowering as his hand comes down on the back of your head again, keeping you bowed and down, with your hair tugged between his fingers.

He doesn't want to look at your face and therefore shoves it into the pillow instead - feeling the tremors of your cries hitch against his palm. Flashes of your teary eyes haunt him either way, and he growls again, tearing the boxers you'd put on down to your thighs before scoffing – using his quirk instead he lets the dust filter down your legs to settle neatly on the floor.

"I told you to stop stealing my shit-" He repeats, putting a hand down flat on your back – watching the ashes of his shirt reveal your pretty skin.

You start sobbing, then – doing little else. Naked and shivering, you flinch beneath his touch while he kicks your legs apart. Obeying without a word, you spread them wider – offering that which you know he’s going to take like the night before – hoping your willingness is enough to soothe him.

It isn’t. The hand in your hair shoves you down harder until it becomes hard to breathe, and soon you start struggling again. You guess he likes that, to see you try and fail. He shoves inside you when you’re like that – his own spit doing little to ease the stretch and pain, and you scream despite having no air left to make a sound.

He lets up after a while – allowing you to gulp to smoothen the ache in your lungs while he fucks you raw. He leans over and yanks your head back – rasping at your ear. “Feel that, whore?” Your head burns listening to his dry chuckles, your heart tearing itself apart with disbelief that something so cruel can exist. “That’s your cunt going sloppy wet for me.” 

He shoves in deep and hard, too quick to let you adjust – and the attack makes you jolt and choke on pained moans. 

He scoffs. “You act like you’re not a dirty slut, but cum doesn’t lie. So when I feel you soak me like this- tch- I know for a fact you love it.” He seethes, pulling on your locks some more and trying to angle a little sharper against your womb – enough to make you whine out another pained sob. “You’re nothing but a filthy cumrag… You should be happy I even bother with you.”

He yanks you down on the floor after some time - his other hand gripping his dick in hurried tugs that squelch in the sticky mess of what wetness he’s pounded out of you. 

You keep your eyes closed and await the blow, charting his sounds until he releases that final heavy moan – and soon after, you feel the spiteful warmth from his balls spritz all over your face. You barely flinch.

He pants heavily before letting go of your hair – and still, you don't move.

You just open your eyes again, and he watches them tremble with tears – big and shiny, as you kneel beneath him – your breaths cracked and uneven while you nibble some on your bottom lip. "Thank you." You sniffle, voice thin and softly beaten.

And there goes another sting to his heart, and he scoffs at the bitter aftertaste it leaves in his throat. "Shut up." His hand grabs your face, squishing bloated cheeks tight to make you pout, and you squeeze your eyes shut and let out another whimper. "You don't talk unless I say so. You don't do anything unless I say so-"

Your soft hands brace themselves against his knees gently with shivers, and he feels the immediate urge to kick you away from him – but stops himself.

He watches his cum drip along your tears – upon your cheeks and lips, and the sight leaves him feeling deeply unsettled – the sight of your little face in his big hand and how he barely has one pinky raised to keep it that way.

He wonders if he should set the digit down and put you both out of your misery.

#yandere shigaraki #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere shiggy #yandere shigaraki x reader #yandere mha #yandere bnha #shigaraki smut #shigaraki thirst #yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere tomura #tomura smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki x you #tomura x you

[hadesrise]

pls more miguel drabbles I'm BEGGINGGG

𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎’𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄.

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. foul language, ftm!miguel, spider-man!reader, cheating with miguel, praise kink, degradation, breeding kink, choking, hair pulling, doggy style + mating press, squirting, size difference, reader being a shitty asshole to his husband (for a reason wink), pet names, marking, rough sex, getting caught

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊. you begged and i shall give. as always, please correct my spanish if it’s incorrect.

MINORS, FEM READERS DNI !!

Gaining another member who’s very capable and reliable had Miguel relieved because he would have someone to put his complete trust in other than Jess and Peter B. yet also frustrated at the same time. You’re absolutely great — amazing even — following his orders and perfectly executing plans, completing missions without a single problem no matter how difficult or easy it is, an extremely reliable person who Miguel could count on all the time to the point of becoming his second right-hand in command.

There shouldn’t be a problem to make him frustrated, really. But the problem is that he’s utterly, utterly attracted to you and you were married — the golden band around your left ring finger proved so. It didn’t help that you were taller than him; not bigger, that’s impossible, but taller than him. Towered over him completely in front, loomed over him from behind, not to mention the utmost strength and power you had due to being an actual Spider-man who was bitten by a radioactive spider.

Miguel can’t fucking stop fantasizing about you, how you would hold him down and fuck him into oblivion until he can’t walk, how you would leave big handprints on his hips as you dick him down, how you’d carry him around like a ragdoll with your cock fully seated inside him. And everytime his sharp eyes would catch the golden ring, fire erupts in his chest and fills it with utmost envy that he can’t have you to himself, because someone had already claimed you theirs. It eats away at his skin until he feels himself burning up, mixing with loneliness that he so desperately wished you could defeat for him like you always do with the villains.

But then, hope strikes when you look at the ring in disinterest, almost agonizingly. You would cover your left hand entirely in your suit, as if you didn’t even want to look at it. His heart jackhammers when your eyes would travel to him occassionally and roam around his figure like a hungry animal, watching his every move, lingering longer on his ass and chest. You were quiet, the only Spider-man who wouldn’t utter a single joke, just silently accomplishing tasks and only replying to people with a single word but dios mío— your eyes were so fucking loud. Told your emotions without saying a word.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Jess once said to him before.

“That’s the eyes no married man would make to their boss. Careful, Miguel.” She had warned him, “He might just eat you up and spit you out like he probably does to other people, and then go back to his spouse.”

Miguel hadn’t meant to give in. He hadn’t meant to get a taste of your love, only a little bit.

But then he did, and the aching and yearning grew, his hunger furthered more without being satisfied; you left him addicted to you, to your touch, to your every being. Though, unlike what Jess warned him about, you didn’t just eat him up and spit him out. No, you tasted more of him. You came back with desire far greater than the day before, over and over again, leaving no places of his body untouched and fucking into his womb so gratefully. You worshipped him, like he was the one you married and not the bloke he call himself your husband. Spent all free time buried in his pussy and fucking the stress out of him.

Then, you oh so cruelly introduced him to your husband, knowing well how much Miguel envied and yearned to be that guy. You were so unfair, how could you let that thing latch onto you like a leech in front of him, knowing damn well he wanted to be the one doing it so bad? But he had forgiven you so quick when you subtly started playing with his aching cunt under the dinner table, rubbing and flicking his clit, inserting your fingers into his wet pussy, all the while your husband rambled on about his successful business proposal.

When the dinner ended and your husband went to the kitchen to wash the dishes, you rested your chin on your palm while smirking at Miguel with mischief glinting in your eyes. Fingers still playing with his pussy, watching him try to keep his moans in, deeply amused.

“Hold on a bit more, sweetheart.” You whispered in his ear, curling your fingers against his g-spot as Miguel bit his lip harshly to stop the loud moan that threatened to spill. His thighs were shaking. “He’ll leave for night shift in thirty minutes, so as soon as he’s out that door, I’ll fuck a baby into you, yeah?”

“Fuck—” Miguel quietly gasped and covered his mouth with one hand, panicked eyes snapping to your husband and showing relief when he didn’t seem to hear anything.

Were you fucking crazy? Fingering him and biting his neck while your husband stood right in the kitchen where he could easily see what’s going on if he just turned around? Miguel was nervous you’d get caught, but excited at the same time, the thrill making his pussy clench tightly around you. He hears your uneven breathing and shifts his gaze to you, and almost squirms. You were still taller than him even when sitting, your lustful eyes glued to Miguel like you wanted to fuck him right there on the table.

You licked your lips, whispering lowly. “I’ll make you mine soon, breed you full.”

Miguel nearly whined, grinding on your fingers.

That’s how he ended up on the bed that you and your husband sleep on after the door closed, his back arched perfectly and ass up in the air, puffy cunt greedily sucking your thick cock in as you fucked him in rough and long strokes, as if to force him to feel every inch of it. You had already pulled three orgasms out of him and his mind has turned into mush, but he knew you won’t be done with him anytime soon. Not until his belly’s bloating with your seed.

His dropped upper torso caused his sensitive nipples to rub against the mattress each time you thrusted into him, making Miguel moan in pleasure.

“Just like that, baby,” You moaned, thrusting deep before slapping his ass hard, Miguel crying out in both pleasure and pain as his pussy clenched around you. His hips subconscuously moved to fuck himself on your cock and you stopped moving, just placing your hands on his hips. “Feels good, darlin’? Go on, fuck yourself, use me.” Miguel whines at that, beginning to bounce on your cock at a fast pace and moaning loudly.

His ass jiggled with his every move and you bit your lip, almost hypnotized by it.

“A-agh... Fuuuck! Please, pleasepleaseplease,” He babbles out, pleading, not satisfied with the pace he himself was going at. He wanted your roughness that makes him choke and sob, he wanted the way you drill your cock into him and make him forget his name, he wanted you to fuck him like you mean it. “Fuck me, please! I—I can’t— dios mío, I want you— Fuck! I need you, haah, I need you so bad,” He pressed his ass on your pelvis, burying your cock as deep into him as possible.

You hummed, leaning over and trapping him under you, just how he loved. “You need me to fuck you like a cheap whore, right?” Breathlessly chuckling in his ear, sending shivers through Miguel’s spine.

“S-sí, por favor,” He nods his head almost desperately, tears spilling from his eyes.

“Fuckin’ slut for me,” You growled and snapped your hips harshly, making Miguel gasp, before pulling your cock all the way to the tip and slamming back into his drenched pussy, starting to rail him into oblivion. Miguel’s eyes rolled back into his skull as uncontrollable moans left his lips at the rough and fast thrusts that he craved so much, series of thank you’s leaving his lips.

Slipping your hand through his hair, you tugged on it harshly and Miguel chokes up a moan at that, drool dripping down his chin. “Such a good fucking pussy,” You groaned, digging your teeth on his shoulder. “Always the best— fuuuck, my husband can’t be as good as this shit.” It was a cruel thing to say, but oh Miguel loved to hear it. “No one fucks you like I do, ain’t that right, baby?”

“Augh! Oh- Ohhh, fuck yes!” Miguel almost screamed, scratching at the sheets, unable to keep himself down as the stinging pain from his hair being pulled and the harshness of your cock repeatedly abusing his cervix and g-spot brought him immense euphoria. “¡S-sólo tú-! Sólo tú, mi amor— agh! haah— más, más, por favor-” He babbled mindlessly, sobbing and moaning like a dumb bitch in heat.

You feel his walls pulsating and your dick throbbing inside him, a sign of both of your orgasms nearing. You let go of his hair to pull his arms back instead, using it as a leverage to drill into him fast and rougher. Miguel could practically feel your cock in the back of his throat as he continuously let out screams that you’re sure his throat’s gonna be sore tomorrow. “You gonna cum with me like a good boy, sweetheart? Take care of me like the good boss that you are?”

Miguel dumbly nods his head, can’t even answer you from how amazing it felt. His mind feels like short-circuiting as you push and push him over the edge, eyes unseeing. With just a few strong slam of your hips, Miguel tumbles down the edge and cums at the same time with you, screaming your name as he squirts all over the sheets again, feeling your hot cum gushing into him. You moaned, closing your eyes shut and relishing in the sweet squeezing of his pussy milking you dry.

You pressed his back further to the sheets to make him arch more and thrusted deep inside, making Miguel cry out and his body convulse violently from the utter pleasure. “Drink it all in, Miguel. Spill none of it.” And Miguel obeys, whimpering to the pillow as you breed him thoroughly.

God, he was already seeing stars — you fuck him so good and well, but he knew you weren’t done yet when you flipped him over with your cock still fully inside.

You grab his hips, which were small enough for your hands to wrap completely around, and Miguel latches onto your forearm with one hand while the other settles on your wrist. A sob wrecks through him when you started fucking him slowly, pushing all the cum deeper inside in long strokes. “What’s the matter, darlin’? You said more and now that I’m givin’ it to you, it’s too much already?” You pouted, feigning sadness.

Miguel shakes his head with a whimper. Aw, he was crying! Just like he always did everytime you fuck him, and it made you swell with pride and cockiness. “I—t-too sensitive... just- jus’ gonna rest a while and you can breed me again,” He slurred, mind dizzy and a small dumb smile spreading across his lips.

Your eyes darkened at that as you licked your lips with a predatory gaze, a mocking smirk immediately appearing. “I don’t think so, mi amor.” You buried yourself within him again in one swift motion and Miguel chokes on a scream, squirting once more at the suddenly strong pleasure, thighs shaking. “Ah, that’s it.” You moaned, “Good boy. Squirting like a fuckin’ whore. You don’t get to rest while I’m breeding you, got that? All you’re gonna do is just scream my name as I fuck a baby into you, hm?”

Gods, the fucking mouth on you everytime you fuck him.

You always feel extra chatty whenever you’re fucking him and it never failed to make Miguel so fucking wet, he’s practically drenching everything beneath him.

You lift his legs in a mating press and pull your hips up until only the tip is left before slamming back down harshly, the heavy weight of your thrusts making sparks fly in his vision, Miguel’s head thrown back as he lets out any kind of noise that left his throat sore. His pussy was red, puffy, swollen and utterly used, engorged clit waiting to be touched. You had mercy on it and started rubbing it with your thumb, Miguel sobbing and crying out, his hand weakly trying to get you to stop.

Immediately enclosing your other hand around his throat, Miguel let out a high pitched moan and gushes his juices around you again, mind absolutely blank with tongue poking out of his open mouth. He wrapped his arms around your back when you captured his lips in a kiss, muffling his screams and moans and whines.

He was so overstimulated it hurts, but the safe word never erupts from him. This is what he wanted after all; being used by you, being your cum dump, your breeder. With you, he just got to be dumb and cockdrunk and obedient, you wouldn’t be disappointed at the fact that the strong leader is such a little bitch for you. You would gladly mark him yours with your seed, make him yours body and soul.

If only that stupid husband of yours isn’t in the way.

You pulled away from the kiss and pounded into him to chase your orgasm, praises spilling from your lips as Miguel took it all screaming nothing but your name. “Yes! Yesyesyes, oh fuck! Breed me, breed me, please— Quiero a tu bebé, mi amor, por favor-” He sobbed desperately along with incoherent words.

“Te daré cualquier cosa, amor...” You breathlessly chuckled, moaning at how good and tight his pussy is as you continue to rearrange his guts. “Mía, sólo mía,” You punctuated with each thrust that had Miguel’s eyes rolling back. “Me divorciaré de él por ti, lo prometo. Lo siento, mi vida... Te amo, te amo tanto.”

Miguel’s heart fluttered as tears escape his eyes, moaning softly and digging his talons on your back. It’s probably bleeding now but you don’t care, just whispering sweet nothings and pressing kisses on his face while your thrusts grow slow and sensual, as if petting and rewarding his pussy for being so good.

“Ah... yo también te quiero...” He whimpers, grinding on you. “Dámelo, por favor...”

His gummy walls squeeze around your throbbing cock and you groan, thrusting slow and sensual yet deep and sharp to send both of you to the edge. Soon enough, you feel him spasm as he cums yet again at the same time with you burying deeply into him and spilling all your cum inside, filling his womb with warmth again, his legs locked around you and pressing your hips close to not let anything spill out.

You throw your head back and moan, letting Miguel attach his lips to your throat and leave bitemarks just like you did as you slowly ride out both of your high.

It felt like heaven, he felt like heaven and home.

Miguel’s head falls back on the pillow, panting heavily and sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, a rare sight. You gently kiss his forehead, moving your hips sensually to pull soft noises out of him.

A loud thud erupts from the side and you glance at the doorway to find your husband standing there with pale face and wide eyes, horrified. You heard Miguel’s breath hitch, but you were oddly calm, movement not stopping and forcing moans out of him. His face grow red from embarrassment, which you only found adorable.

“Surprise~” Your lips curved up in a sadistic smile, mocking your supposedly husband. “A taste of your own medicine doesn’t feel so bad, yeah?” Confusion crossed Miguel’s face before immediately being replaced by pleasure as your cock brushed against his g-spot and you kiss him tenderly.

“At least I wasn’t a pussy who pretended to love his husband.”

The last thing Miguel saw was blood draining from your husband’s face before utmost pleasure took over his mind again and turned him back into a moaning mess for you.

As he catches glimpse of the golden band shining around your ring finger, his lips twisted up into a dizzy and dumb smile, knowing you’ll soon remove and replace it with his. Now, it’ll no longer be a fantasy.

© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.

#gay #lgbtq #male reader #x male reader #mlm #male x male #miguel x male reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara spiderverse #miguel o'hara x male reader smut #ftm miguel #atsv x male reader #atsv smut #atsv x reader #atsv #miguel spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #across the spiderverse #smut #miguel o'hara drabble #spiderman atsv #marvel x male reader

[mmorw]

afab! Alec who doesn't respect the correct use of the contraceptive.

cw: smut. afab! chr. omegaverse. fingering. vaginal. mating press. womb fucking. knotting. mentioned incest. Alec is actually worried about getting pregnant. mean! reader. possessive! alec.

!! English is not my first language 🤘 any spelling or grammatical errors, notify by dm.

dark content ig.

“If you are not going to use it correctly, it's not worth using it.”

your fists trembled anxiously on top of your thighs as you watched with wide eyes Alec's fingers go deep inside his wet pink intimacy, with his legs spread wide and clit swollen, needing to tease you.

“You say that contraceptives were expensive.” you gasped, your throbbing making your head ache from how immersed you were looking at Alec; who was just smiling and biting his lip anxiously.

“alpha. ♡ ” he grinned happily, his thumb infuriatingly massaging his wet clitoris as he let out light squeals bathed in pleasure, causing you to move just the slightest bit to try - even to sniff his delicious scent. “na-ha, stay there.”

“Alec— please.” Alec laughed at your pleas, his long fingers with neatly filed nails strolling along his lower lips, biting his lower lip once he observed your crotch, your pelvis next to the erect zipper of your cock begging to be touched. “j-just... please,”

Alec rolled his eyes, mocking your comments once he smiled macabrely and leaned towards you again, his legs perfectly apart as he lifted his moderately swollen chest with his arms.

“just a little more~” he laughed, leaning down to run his slimy, long tongue down your neck, his hands on your fists as he anticipated tease his dripping pussy over your erection.

his hands roamed up and down your neck, luring his mouth to bite and suck on your neck as he wiggled his hips in your lap, moaning softly as his clit rubbed against the silver zipper, giggling at you.

You let him go on, you knew that Alec was much more violent and stronger than you; so, if you rejected him, he would be able to kill you because you somehow embarrassed him.

But it was intoxicating. The 'magic pheromones' of the omegas here were much stronger and sweeter than those in the real world, it was probably to attract more qualified alphas to a good and abundant breeding of pups because of the loss of population during the wars.

your hands, trembling but sure, moved down to his waist, your thumbs massaging his smooth pale skin, his perfect fucking hips making you bend slowly every moment Alec was distracted by biting you; sweat pouring down your forehead when you couldn't take any more, your erection throbbing fucking hard against your pants when you slowly unbuttoned; not wearing underwear under those snug fitting rags, so it came out with a slight push to rub in anticipation against the wet slit of the omega.

You couldn't take any more of his comments, the pain in your groin and pre-cum dropping from your tip desperate to feel the boy's walls made you lunge against him, and without warning slam hard against Alec's intimacy, feeling his juices splash around your groin once your glans successfully hit his entrance, abusing your movements lovingly as you began to move after the red-haired man's loud moans.

“s-shitᅳ wait! ” his back arched violently, his trembling hands trying to push you away the moment he had realized your quick response to his taunts; leaving him in little more than weakness beneath you. “b-bad! ba—d alpha! ”

his frown and eyes with little heart symbols lowered anxiously to the sweet pleasure which was bestowed upon the mercenary, his sharp nails dug into your back when you forced him on the ground again striking rapidly and violently his cervix while his legs trembled and pounded your back looking for you to stop.

“¡y-you're an animal— ngh! ” He gasped in desperation, taking even more air from his lungs as you slammed into him; the bluish pearl and your fat, swollen glans pressing against the entrance of his womb made him squirt violently, his heels hitting your lower back again and again trying to stop you for even the slightest moment. “y-you—!”

“s-so wet— and warm. ♡” Alec rolled his eyes backwards when he felt the corner of the pearl pierce his cervix after your onslaught, enveloped in the mercenary's inner warmth so much so that he didn't want to stop, his walls squeezed you perfectly!

Alec felt helpless, lured into a sweet pleasure lashing out at him without the slightest mercy, the lack of control making him tremble and shake beneath you, his teary eyes dropping tears again and again at your sensible commands.

His juices quickly soaked your pelvis with each thrust, his arms struggling to hold on to you as the pearl slowly entered his dry womb, pressing you against him as soon as it entered and made Alec squirt once more.

His carnal screams were high-pitched and off-key, descending with each note into the gaping hole that was left, making it easier for your glans to fit perfectly once you managed to expand his tight cervix.

your mandible clamped hard along his neck, his milky skin changing to shades of purple and red as your teeth pressed eagerly into Alec's sweet flesh, licking and sucking in pleasure at his sweet nectar.

“w-waitᅳ I'm,, so—rwy! ” He cried out, falling surrendered to the hard thrust of your hips when you grabbed his thighs and flexed him into a more comfortable position for you, in which to perfectly hit his sweet spots while Alec sobbed and choked out harsh moans.

For a moment, his mind turned to the sensation of your cock throbbing inside him, the veins around your fat member sending vibrating gasps into Alec's mind once he was immersed in pleasure again, feeling it grow and how; now that they had no more contraceptives, you would probably cum inside him.

Alec could not get pregnant, of course not! It would be pathetic, to have to abandon his position as a sadistic mercenary to a lovely housekeeper caring for a pup that would kill him during childbirthᅳ,, Alec, at this point, began to think about the change what would happen to his growing pregnancyᅳ he didn't wanted it, he didn't!

He did not even want to think about how it would have been with his sister, without the proper means for the corresponding labor; which would lead to deadly ends in which he... he might not have survived such hours of non-stop effort, you know; a long cup of doctors, even nurses had died in the war, one would have to get by completely alone in this sort of thing.

“I'm gonna— cum,” You gasped gladly, ignoring his paranoid thoughts; your hands running up his legs towards your thighs, hiding your burning face in his neck as strands of saliva splattered his bitten and bleeding neck, your canines grazing his olfactory gland, forcing him to draw out more of his seductive scent.

At this point, the pearl would do nothing and Alec knew it; it would soon come out or fade away but the main purpose of it was to omit the passage of cum as an IUD, with which, out of place you would clearly be able to impregnate him.

“h-holdᅳ on,,” He struggled to speak, his claws digging into your shoulders as he went your movements became softer and slower, pressing hard but slow lunges into his cervix lovingly, kissing around the bites once you felt your stomach tingle. “a—alpha, h-hey..! ”

Alec's trembling hands went to your face, turning to kiss you hard as he pulled you down, preventing you from being able to move another inch more than the points accessible to your mouth, giving a desperate, messy kiss as he forced your tongues to touch each other.

“I-I can't,” he mumbled, drowning you in another kiss as he watched his inappropriate attempts to make you stop, his slick and your pre-cum leaving his entrance sticky and slimy, the sticky white threads making the onslaught sound that much dirtier and more addictive. “pᅳpregnant ! I- can't! ”

“come on- Alec, don't be a baby.” You grunted, gripping his shapely hips to give one last thrust into his hot cunt, before cumming furiously inside the mercenary's tiny womb, forcing your thick, viscous strands of hot seed to fill his cavity quickly.

your knot had entered a few seconds before making sure you had perfectly knotted his womb, kissing his lips sweetly when his eyes rolled and his hands fell into yours, tears falling from Alec's eyes and back arched; knowing there was no turning back, not anymore.

Alec's fertility was somewhat enviable, but at this point... there wouldn't be much more to envy, if Alec didn't put a stop to his alpha, they would probably end up with more pups than a standard family by the end of the year.

Well, rule number one, don't lose control under sex, Alec.

#dom male reader #alpha! reader #afab character #isekai trip saki de tasukete kureta no wa hitogoroshi no shounen deshita #ITSDTKNWHNSD omegaverse #┊alec — ITSDTKNWHNSD

[azsazz]

Falling For You

Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Ice skating with Rhys in the Winter Court.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,001

Notes: Just thought I’d kick off December with a little Rhys cuteness.

_________________________________________

“Why did we have to come to the Winter Court? The Night Court is perfectly fine.” Rhysand grumbles, readjusting his gloves for the third time since you’d stepped foot into the city of Glacia, the largest of the chilly Court’s territories.

You’d always wished to see the city known for its ethereal holiday decor. The largest tree you’d ever seen, glittering with faelights and ornaments so shiny and sparkly they took your breath away, the icicles of all sizes, hanging from the tops of buildings and businesses, reflecting everything like a mirror.

And of course, the ice skating.

You peel your eyes away from the petite fae female who is doing tight corkscrews on the ice, arms curled above her head, so beautiful that you wonder just how long she’d been skating for. Shooting your mate a look from the corner of your eye you choke, stifling your laugh as you catch him with his shoulders hunched and scarf pulled up high over his nose, black knit hat tugged so far down that you can only see the violet of his eyes.

For someone who was raised deep in the frosty mountains, you thought Rhys would be able to fare the weather better.

Of course, your mate was just being dramatic. He would take you anywhere you wanted to go, and although he may be complaining right now, you knew he would warm up to the idea eventually.

There was always a lull right after Starfall. Rhysand would get a bit jittery, wanting to escape the freezing cold in favor of taking you and your friends to see the turn of the year in either Day or Summer. He liked sitting out in the sun, being able to actually feel his fingers, but you were insistent in begging him to come to Winter to experience the stories you’d been told growing up. 

And, well…when was he really ever able to say no to you?

“Yes, Rhys,” your breath puffs white clouds as you speak, “Perfectly fine. I want to experience the gorgeous winter in its true form!”

“By doing that,” he points disgustedly towards the large river before you, frozen over and with a multitude of citizens and visitors slipping and sliding across it. 

“Yes,” you cross your arms over your chest.

“You don’t even know how deadly I’ll be with those…” he makes a face, “Knives on my feet.”

You roll your eyes at your mate and he loves it, if the crinkles by his eyes as he smiles are anything to go off of.

“Well then,” you shrug, eyes snagging on the white haired High Lord as he speeds past. Your scowl melts into a wide grin as you turn towards Rhys, “I guess we’ll have to get Kallias to teach you some pointers.”

.·:·.☽ ✦ ☾.·:·.

“Okay, this isn’t so bad,” Rhys admits, right before he loses his balance.

You laugh, using the hand tucked into your own to help him steady before he falls. Rhys shoots you a thankful look, not quite ready for another drop on his ass.

“Remember not to look at your feet,” you remind him, “Kallias said to look at where you want to go.”

“Kallias has been doing this for centuries, Darling. I don’t know how well the word of a man who probably came out of the womb doing this holds up.”

“It’s working for me,” you respond smugly. You’d only lost your balance once.

Rhys mutters something under his breath that has you glaring in warning because there are children all around.

You push ahead, ignoring his protest. He’s going too slow and you want to enjoy a single lap without a complaint.

An ache fills your chest and you slow to a stop, carefully spinning around to catch eyes with your distraught mate.

He’s not that far away, looks like he’s picked up a bit of speed trying to catch up to you. His violet eyes are locked firmly on you as he glides forward, mostly straight but a little wobbly.

He’s starting to approach quickly, much more quickly than you had anticipated, and if he doesn’t try to slow down, he’ll tumble right into you.

“Rhysand, slow down!”

“I can’t,” he calls back, a tinge of fear in his voice as he pinwheels his arms backwards like that’s going to help slow him.

You don’t move fast enough and he’s sliding into you. You catch him and the breath releases from your lungs as the both of your teeter over onto the ice, hard.

Now it’s you who’s wheezing out a curse and blinking the stars from your eyes. The thick knit of your hat and padded coat helped ease the fall, but with your mate on top of you, squishing the air from your lungs, you were a bit disoriented.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he responds frantically, checking you over immediately, “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you huff, a hand wrapped around his waist, “Just a little breathless is all.”

He smirks, a retort on the tip of his tongue but at your harsh gaze he smartly keeps it to himself.

Instead, he tucks his head into the crook of your neck, rubbing his cold nose against your skin which sends shivers up your spine.

“I think I’m ready for some hot cocoa now, Darling,” he mumbles and you giggle, fixing his disheveled hat when he leans back. There are those pretty eyes.

“I don’t think you’ve come up with a better idea in your life,” you agree, beaming at him for a moment. His eyes sparkle light, the faelights on the tree and the snowflakes in the sky, and you admire your mate, so kind for bringing you to see this. 

“Thank you, Rhys, for bringing me here.”

He shoves the scarf down to press a chilled kiss to your mouth, ignoring the squeals and laughter of the children that scoot past.

“No thanks necessary, my High Lady. Your wish is my command.”

#rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand/reader #rhys/reader #rhys x reader #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acotarxreader #acofas #azsazz #cozy boy winter

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Congratulations, Star! 🥳🥳

For your celebration how about “I love you doesn’t begin to express what I feel for you” with Bob?

Hi, Taylor! This one is a little bit different from the other prompts I've written, and I hope you like it! It's still Bob, and it's still very fluffy. It's just a different take on, "I love you doesn't begin to express what I feel for you," in that it is not our reader or Bob saying the words to each other.

The Best Day of Your Life

The dull aching pain in your body is what wakes you up. You’re in a hospital bed, and everything hurts. There’s an uncomfortable heaviness in your breasts, twinging in unison with the radiating ache in your lower back, cunt, and stomach. You’re still groggy as you crane your neck, looking for your husband. There’s one of those rolling bassinets near the hospital bed, but you can’t reach for the buttons on the hospital bed or prop yourself up without even more pain singing through your veins. That’s when you notice the call button on the bed near your hand. It’s a bit of a struggle with the weight in your limbs and how your arms don’t seem to want to cooperate as you scrabble for the button.

It's a huge relief when you finally grab hold and depress the button. An infinitesimal tiny beeping starts up and along with it you can hear the clatter of rubber soled shoes as people start to make their way to you. When the door bursts open, you're unsurprised to see your ObGyn and the nurse who'd helped you while you were in labor walk through the door. They're followed by another nurse, this one introduced to you as a lactation consultant. They bustle around you, checking your vitals before elevating the bed into a seated position.

"Mrs. Floyd, you're awake. How are you doing?" It's Doctor Williams, your ObGyn who asks you that.

"I-I'm okay." Your voice is a hoarse whisper, all moisture sapped from your tongue by the anesthesia still heavy in your veins. The nurse presses a couple of ice chips into your mouth, and as they melt, you finally start to remember flashes of what happened.

You'd been in labor, toiling endlessly, bearing down when the doctor told you to and relaxing when the contractions eased, all with a punishing grip on your husband's hand. You remember becoming a sweating, heaving mess, your hair stuck to your sweat slick skin as you'd gasped and screamed and moaned. Each minute your muscles contracted felt like forever. Then the doctor stopped you. She'd explained that the baby was in breech and you needed a C-Section. It had taken you barely a second before you agreed. The final things you remember in the operating room were your husband's eyes and a baby's wail.

"Alright now, Mrs. Floyd. How do you feel? Any pain? How manageable is it?" The doctor's words startle you out of your reverie.

"I'm sore, Dr. Williams. But I can heal from that. Where's the baby? Where's my husband?" Your worry is escalating the longer you've been awake without seeing him.

"They're fine! Lieutenant Floyd just headed down to the Nursery to pick them up." The doctor's smiling at you as she speaks. But you're rapidly hyper fixating on one word. Them. Dr. Williams said, "them".

"Them, Dr. Williams?" There's a disbelief in your tone as you stare at her.

"Yes, them. When you were in labor, we started having you push once you were dilated to 10 cm. But the baby was breech so we prepped you for a C-section, do you remember that?" You nod in response. "When we cut your womb open, we saw not one baby, but two. One of your babies was being very protective of the other, preventing us from ever seeing them on the ultrasound."

You can't hide your shocked chuckle or the tears that spring to your eyes. You and Bob had been trying for so long to have a baby. You had given yourselves one more month to do it the old-fashioned way before you tried an IVF clinic. Then you'd actually become pregnant. So, to find out that your miracle baby was not one baby but two? It has you sobbing in your hospital bed with an aching body, a calm mind, and an overflowing heart.

That's the scene your sweet husband walks into. You're cry-laughing feebly into a tissue, and the Doctor and Nurse are trying not to laugh at you. The lactation consultant is the one handing you the tissues. You're sure you look a fright, but you've never seen Bob look at you like you're his whole world before.

His voice is raspy, and his eyes are red-rimmed as he walks carefully up to you. He's got two wrapped bundles held securely to his chest, and your eyes light up at the sight.

"Hey, beautiful. There are two little girls who are very eager to meet their Mama."

His chuckle as you make grabby hands to the babies makes you smile dopily before the lactation consultant, named Billie, helps you out of your gown and position each baby at your breast. The instant rush of love you get at the first touch of their little bodies against your skin would have knocked you off your feet had you been standing.

You're crying again as you carefully sob out, "Hi, babies. I'm your mama. I love you doesn’t begin to express what I feel for you. I'm going to take such good care of you for the rest of your lives. You're going to be safe and happy and healthy. I promise." Their heads are so soft and downy, already covered in a light coating of pale brown strands. They suckle hungrily as they feed from your breasts, and it sends an intense rush of pride through you. Your body made these two perfect little beings and is now feeding them, too? Through it all, Bob is a steady presence at your side, his hands gentle as he brushes his fingers across their chubby cheeks.

When the babies are laid into the bassinet and you're in a fresh hospital gown, you finally pull your husband closer. He's looking at you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky. He's always looked at you like that. It was that look that had you falling for him when you met him, but this particular look is deeper, softer, and sweeter.

"They're perfect, beautiful." His voice is reverent as he tips your chin up. "You did so good, Mama."

"You've been doing pretty good too, y'know, Daddy?" Your voice is soft as you tug him closer, furtively pulling on his shirt to get him to join you in the too narrow hospital bed.

"It scared the shit out of me, when they put you under for the C-section. You were awake and knowing, I could see your face as they cut you open. I know you couldn't feel it, but I could see it. I thought we were going to lose one of our girls." Your heart aches as Bob takes his glasses off to sob against your shoulder. He cries for several long moments as you card your fingers carefully through his soft hair. You wait until his shoulders stop shaking before you pull him in for a kiss.

"Hey, my sweet Bobby. Look at me, my darling. Our girls, they're right there. Safe and sound. You ensured that they were protected and taken care of even when I couldn't. I love you so so much. And I love them, too." You're breathing a little raggedly as you look into your husband's eyes. "This? The four of us? We're a family now. Forever. We're going to love and cherish those little girls for the rest of our lives."

"Damn straight, sweetheart." You can see an all too protective light glint in his eyes as he wraps an arm around you. "What're we naming them, then?"

You purse your lips in thought. "The older twin, let's name her Natasha, Natasha Grace Floyd. For her godmother, the fiercest, most protective woman we both know."

"I love that sweetheart." Bob kisses you, before continuing, "And the younger twin?"

You snuggle into his arms, a yawn overtaking your exhausted system. "What about Nicole Elizabeth? After your mom and sister?"

"Those are both perfect. Welcome to the family, Natasha Grace and Nicole Elizabeth. Your Mama and I love you already. We can't wait to see you grow up." Bob's fond tone is the last you hear as you fall asleep. You can't wait to bring your girls home, and you can't wait to see them grow up. Just a few hours old, and they already have their dad wrapped around their little fingers. This is the best day of your life.

Want to request something for my 100 Follower Celebration? The guidelines are here! Please leave me a request in my inbox with your ask!

- XOXO Star

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #100 follower celebration #robert bob floyd x reader #bob x reader #robert floyd x reader #top gun imagine #top gun fluff #bob imagine #bob fluff

[sakumasmut]

Hello!!! I enjoyed your writing a lot🥰 Can I request a breeding kink with Jun (in his hyena outfit) and fem!reader? Thank you very much🥺💕

Hyena Outfit!Jun Sazanami x Fem!Reader

tags/warnings: cosplay, clothed sex (naked reader, clothed Jun), mating press, breeding, light primal play

ao3

The way Jun looked in his striped hyena costume was much more alluring than he gave himself credit for. To think he actually dressed like that, showing off toned abs and tan skin, and even performing on stage in it. He looked smoking hot in it, even more than he did without anything on.

Jun was surprised at your request for him to wear the outfit for more private purposes, but didn’t question it and took it from the costume department. You hoped they were going to thoroughly dry-clean it after tonight—it was going to need the washing. Your legs were pressed next to your head and into the mattress, hips lifted into the air by his gloved hands as he rutted into you at a brutal pace from above, slapping his hips against your cunt. His cock drove into you easily, gravity doing the work for him as your walls clamped around it each time his dick slid back in.

Squeals left your mouth in waves, unable to control yourself and not feeling the need to. Jun’s outfit looked like a ferocious animal, so you were more than happy to let him pounce on you like one. He was the predator, a hungry carnivore that wanted nothing more to eat you up. You were the prey—naked, trembling, and ready to be torn apart.

Your eyes kept wandering from his concentrated face towards his decorated arms and chest, lovingly taking in all the details of the accessories and makeup he asked the staff to put on him as well. His clothes showed off his already gorgeous body; the breast plate that made a small clinking noise whenever he moved up and down, the red vest that was cut so low that his sweating chest was visible to you, the striped collar clicked into place below his chin, and the sash that was barely hanging onto his hips, the fabric brushing against your skin each time he bottomed out—they all increased your arousal tenfold. To think he’d go to all that effort, just to satisfy one of your bedroom fantasies; Jun was a dream come true.

“Man, you really like the outfit, huh?” Jun chuckled, noticing your staring. “Didn’t think you were into this stuff.”

You blushed, looking up at him and noticing the way his ear headband had dislodged slightly from his hair, so that it was tilted towards the right. He needed to stop being so darn cute!

“I-I just think it suits you! The tail and ears are cute too!”

“Cute?”

He raised an eyebrow as he also raised his hips, suddenly slamming into you so hard you felt his tip press against your cervix. You cried out loudly, walls clenching even tighter.

“I-I meant sexy! You look super hot!”

“That’s right, I’m a sexy and cool predator of the wild.” He lifted himself up to pull his cock out of you, letting his tip just barely touch your dripping entrance.

“Now let's make you this hyena’s mate.”

His grip on your hips tightened as he slammed into you again. Any complaints you had were literally fucked out of your thoughts in favor of screaming his name. It didn’t matter if the mating press was starting to make your joints ache, nor did it matter that your stomach lurched each time he dick pressed against the entrance to your womb, so close to fertilizing your eggs. All that matter was that he was fucking you, and doing an amazing job at it.

“Like that?” Jun grunted, “Like it when my cock is deep inside you?”

“Y-Yes! I love it!”

“Good, ‘cause it’s gonna go in real deep when I pump my load into you, and you’ll take it all like a good mate, won't cha?”

“Yes!” You cried out. “Give it all to me!”

Jun sped up, his thrusts getting harder and faster. Your voice went hoarse from how vocal you were being, but even the smallest of whimpers from your throat were pushing him towards the edge. Your body shuddered, and a loud cry left your lips as your climax rocked your body, pussy clenching tightly around his length to milk it. His cock obliged, and Jun grunted as he came deep inside you. His seed unloading inside you sent a warm tingle all over your skin as it filled your womb up and painted it white.

You breathed heavily, coming down from your high and quickly realizing that without the pleasure masking it, the pain from having your body essentially folded in half was catching up. You tried to squirm in discomfort, but Jun didn’t move from his position, nor did he let go of you, keeping his cock inside as you felt his seed swimming inside you. It felt like your guts were being rearranged.

“Mm, you were great, /name/.” He gave you a toothy grin, “But you’re gonna have to stay like this for a while longer, can’t let anything leak out.”

“But you’re not even hard anymore!” You complained, and Jun smirked.

“Oh, that can be fixed real quick.”

Jun had a dangerous glint in his eyes as his grip returned to your hips, keeping your legs propped up as he began to shallowly thrust into you. You couldn’t help but whine, especially when you felt his member beginning to harden once again.

“A-Are we not finished?”

“Oh I’m far from done with you.” He cooed. “I need to fuck my cum in deeper and deeper. We’re not stopping ‘till you’re overflowing with my sperm.”

#enstars smut #ensemble stars smut #enstars x reader smut #jun sazanami smut #nsft es!! #request

[xdogteeth]

a couple of months ago, i watched all of ryan gosling's movies and this was before i was into homelander. there's one movie that sticks out and it's called Only God Forgives (2013) and it's about a drug trafficker (ryan) in thailand who's mother sends him on a mission to kill the person who killed his older brother for beating a sex worker to death. i'm putting spoilers under the read more because i remembered the end of it and it's so homelander core- or, i wish homelander did that.

the movie itself isn't suitable for everyone, i'm making that loud and clear. (tw: mentions of open wounds, body horror i guess?)

ryan's character, julian, has pretty much the whole shabang of mother issues. (shocking, right?) in the movie when his mother appeared it definitely gives huge context clues that she groomed him and his older brother. though, she favors his older brother more so julian is constantly thriving to get her love and attention just in the slightest to make his whole month.

it definitely reminds me of someone.

julian goes through torture pretty much, still yearning for his mothers attention who genuinely can not give a shit. she gets killed and julian finds her in the room. he's pretty much just as insane after going through literal shit of trying to avenge his older brother's death for her love and something snaps inside of him.

i vividly recall julian holding a katana of some sort before slicing his mother's womb open and shoving his hand in there. i think it truly depends on the person who looks at that scene but being me, i see it as him wanting to be close to her one last time like a baby in the mothers womb. there's something about it for sure, a messed up metaphor without a doubt.

the scene itself brings me to homelander. of course it would, why wouldn't it? it wouldn't be me if i didn't remember a messed up movie about a guy with severe mother issues and slowly turn to homelander with the thought "it's just like you".

i'm not gonna lie, i think after he explodes madelyn with butcher i wish it was different.

lowkey, i wish homelander did that to madelyn like julian did to his mother. it's messed up and uncomfortable, but i think it really would've sewn up how insane and off the rocks homelander truly is at the end of season one i believe? no one truly talks about how on edge homelander is with his... er, parental issues and a piece of me wishes the writers would've shown it more with gruesome, out of pocket ways.

to me, if homelander did that to madelyn it would've symbolized what he was aching for all that time. sure, they show him being needy and pawing at her for attention but it wasn't enough. they drive homelander in s1 as a scary man, something untouchable and i wish they would've done more with it. i blame the idea i'm rewatching s1 and seeing bits and pieces that should've had more... oomf? i guess? with homie. of course, we all can't get what we want so i'm just tapping my foot on the floor in annoyance.

anyways, point is, i hope homelander does more out of pocket things involving his parental issues. i just want to watch him be deranged enough it falls into the category of "what the actual fuck was that". i just hate seeing him being held back from things like that because he could be so much more scary if the writers just let me in the room and throw my ideas down. let him repeat julian's scene in Only God Forgives, let him do more fucked up shit that has the watchers debating to clean their eyeballs with clorox or not. let homie be free.

#.exe #i look and sound insane probably and i'm not sorry for being deranged #okay a little bit i am sorry #homelander #the boys tv

[ficbrish]

Tiny Scene Tuesday

[22Aug2023]

Today's three little words: Theft, Lump, Youth

[Create a short piece (art or fic) that encompasses those 3 words]

Thank you @mallaidhsomo for the prompt!

Any stray Shenkos out there, come join the Big Place Shenko Discord for weekly art/fic prompts! ✨

"Her Father Was Not a Good Man"

[[tw/cw: Implied domestic violence, childhood PTSD, beheading]]

Ever since she learned about the duct rats, they broke her heart. Youths living in the bowels of buildings and space stations. Spilled out from the womb and into filth, surviving on crime and the hope that nothing bad happens when they’re inevitably caught; breadcrumb to breadcrumb.

She also envied their freedom.

Or maybe it was just a different fear that adorned their shoulders. A different kind of monster in the cave.

No, don’t think of him.

His eyes contained a poison that rotted just under her skin since birth. Powerful eyes. Gnashing eyes. They looked so weak falling to the floor, filled with shock and her mother’s scream.

His body took a moment to collapse. His head still had his face on it, his expression.

“One terrible, horrible, disgustingly unhealthy, waste of my life’s work, wake up potion for you, and a nice, normal, healthy water for me.”

Shepard swallowed the lump sitting on the back of her tongue, “It’s coffee, Miranda.”

“I don’t think you can still call it coffee. There’s enough caffeine to give a Krogan a heart attack. In both hearts!”

She took a sip despite Miranda’s glare.

“See? I’m okay. Don’t feel anything different.”

“It doesn’t work that fast!”

“Can you figure out how to make it work that fast?”

“No!” Miranda sat down next to Shepard in a huff.

“You brought me back from the dead.”

“It’s not a question of whether I can. I refuse!”

Shepard wiped away a tear.

“Oh no! No, you don’t. Those big, baby blues aren’t gonna work on me.”

She shook her head and sunk back into the plush couch in Miranda’s room. It made her body remember the hard, Alliance-standard chairs in the SR-1, and her heart took a moment to ache for it.

“If you could change things, would you ever choose to grow up like Mouse?”

It took Miranda a moment, “Wait. Thane’s duct rat?”

Shepard cringed, “Don’t… Don’t say it like that.”

“What?”

“It just…” she started to laugh, “It sounds really bad coming out of your mouth. Thane’s duct rat?!”

Miranda laughed too, “I did not say it like that!”

“You did! You so did!” When the laughter stopped, she asked, “So would you?”

“Why are you asking this?”

Shepard shrugged her shoulders, looking into her cup of “coffee”.

“I mean… That’s basically what I chose in the end, right? Getting away from my father. Giving up everything.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“I mean… come on. You traded one for the other,” she gestured vaguely about the room, “You never actually pulled away.”

“I’m sorry,” Miranda said with unabashed snark, “I guess I didn’t get the memo that we were being a bitch today.”

“I’m not judging. I’m just saying.”

She rolled her eyes, “It’s both, Shepard.”

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

Miranda took a sip and threw Shepard’s question back to her as a peace offering, “So… What would you do?”

A chuckle that was more like a huff left her lips, then she answered, “My father or no home at all?”

“Yeah.”

She sighed, “I don’t know.”

Miranda wasn’t sure whether a hug was warranted, so she took a big gulp of her water instead.

Shepard spoke again, “Imagine who we’d be without all that.”

“I really think we’d be too powerful,” she quipped.

“Oh! For sure! I mean us without our shitty fathers?”

“Jacob might’ve been my only ex.”

That broke them into a fit of laughter.

“We were sabotaged by fate, or the goddess, or whatever.”

“Theft, that’s what it is,” Miranda joked darkly.

[Read more snippets on AO3 🥰]

#tiny scene tuesday #mass effect #mass effect 2 #BrishFics #estrella shepard #miranda lawson #big place discord #server games

[ftm2bbw]

I adore how your hedonism has deepened. No longer content with simply edging, now you want to be forced to cum, endlessly and for as long as it takes to get your mind melted out of your cunt. You want to surrender all control, of your mind, of your udders, of your own pleasure. That's why you want a cishet guy to see you and be attracted to you, to the point of not only encouraging you to grow fatter and curvier, but raping you, saving you the dysphoric trouble of having to ask for it. You know it's what you want; the puddle between your thighs is proof of that. But it's too much, too embarrassing to ask for it. So you just want him to take it. And take you. And know that you're genuinely cumming when he fills you up, growling that he can't wait to see how big you get.

I’m terrified of it, terrified of how good it would actually feel, terrified of how much I’d like it.

So I don’t want a choice. I don’t want to have to think about it. I just need to be bred. I need him to keep an eye on me and keep me distracted with pleasure until there’s nothing I can go about it and I’m forced to ride out all nine months. (And I live in a deep red state, it wouldn’t take much waiting.) Forced to give into my womb.

I need him to remind me of how good it feels every step of the way. Rubbing my belly, massaging my swelling tits, making me cum as he tells me how hot and sexy and fertile I look as I swell with his seed. How much bigger my tits will swell, how my belly and ass will grow, how my hips will widen. How I’m practically glowing. Taking advantage of my ever increasing hormones and sensitivities to get me ever more hooked on his attention and his cock.

Ensure I never even think of going back on T afterwards. Ensure I’ve been properly conditioned into a breeding cow like my womb aches for me to be.

#I’m so turned on by this it hurts… #ask.txt

[sansaorgana]

— THROWN TO THE WOLVES (VII)

THROWN TO THE WOLVES MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Atreides!OC

SUMMARY — Baron Harkonnen throws a celebration in the honour of the na-baroness being pregnant with the heir of his house. Feyd-Rautha's unusual gift for his wife surprises everyone.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is Paul Atreides’ half-sister. It's the longest chapter so far and I wrote it all yesterday...??? I was afraid that after a few chapters I would start losing interest in writing down the story (as usual) but something completely opposite is happening 😳 I was planning a little in my head and I think the story will have 10 chapters but the last chapter might be very long... I am not sure yet. You see, I have a little OCD and I don't like odd numbers... So there is no way the story will have 11 chapters 🤣 Either 10 or 12. Of course I want to thank everyone showing support to my story and my writing. Special thanks to @everandforeveryours for sending me a link to a helpful Dune lore video and allowing me to use a good idea of Feyd's pets being a gift from the Baron Harkonnen. I also want to tag @valeskafics and her fanfic "Between Us" because it uses the same theme I used in this chapter. I had this idea even before reading that amazing story but she wrote it first so I want to be fair! 💕

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), violent behaviour, death

WORD COUNT — 7,110

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THROWN TO THE WOLVES (VII)

The sound of grunts, screams and clinging metal accompanied your breakfast as usual when you were eating your morning meal and watching your husband practice in the courtyard. Last night’s memories brought a faint smile to your face as you caressed your womb with your free hand.

Never before had you performed your marital duties in such a way. Nothing hurt you that morning, nothing was aching, nothing was sore. What a shame, you thought at first but you knew that your child’s safety was the priority. You were aware of the mockery of this yearning which was missing Feyd’s roughness and abuse. You both had your victories with each other – he had managed to shape your body and its desires the way he wanted to. He had turned you into a whore.

So, last night’s relative gentleness had been new to the both of you. It hadn’t been as exciting nor fun but you would get used to it for the few upcoming months, you decided.

You looked down and watched him finish the fight so gracefully and swiftly that it made you feel proud as if you were a mother watching her son training. Your fingers tickled your own abdomen teasingly, hoping that your unborn son could feel that. You already imagined him being the one training one day as you’d watch proudly.

Feyd looked up to make sure you had witnessed his victory and you waved at him before going back to your breakfast. He was an exquisite warrior and you wondered why his uncle still made him perform pathetic shows in front of the audience instead of letting him show his real abilities. Perhaps he didn’t want Feyd to become more respectable, at least not yet. It would weaken his position and despite presenting his nephew as his natural successor, he wasn’t eager to let go of the throne just yet.

Feyd had been right the other day when he had told you that it was not the right time to kill the Baron. It would make the nobility of Giedi Prime want to take over the reign and call Feyd an usurper. No, the transfer of power had to go smoothly because every civil war was weakening its state.

You were deep in your thoughts when Feyd joined you on the balcony in his gladiator gear, still breathing heavily after the fight.

“Let me finish my breakfast first,” you told him casually. You knew what he wanted. The same thing as always after the fight.

“Not today,” he only said and sat on the chair next to yours. You raised your eyebrow at him and watched him grabbing a plate and putting some of your food on it.

“You don’t have to restrain yourself so much, I am not made of glass,” you chuckled.

“Who said I’m going to restrain myself?” He looked at you and you moved uncomfortably.

You still had the image of his awful cannibalistic lovers making out with each other and hissing at you with jealousy, threatening to eat your heart.

Feyd’s appetite was insatiate, you didn’t mind sharing him with concubines – especially in your fragile state. But these three women… They simply had to go but you had no idea how to deal with that matter. He seemed to have a strong bond with them.

“What are you still doing here then?” You snapped at him angrily and looked away.

“My uncle is throwing a celebration tonight in your honour,” Feyd explained and you looked back at him, surprised.

“In my honour?” You asked in disbelief.

“You’re carrying the Harkonnen heir,” he reminded you with a proud smirk. “It is a custom to celebrate it,” he added.

“What kind of celebration?” You wanted details. Once again, this side of the Harkonnen culture was not known to you.

And to think that your father had been advertising you as a woman who was very educated in that matter.

“The nobility of Giedi Prime will come to celebrate and shower you with gifts,” Feyd watched with delight as you smiled and your eyes sparkled.

“Now you’re talking!” You were visibly excited.

“I came here to ask what kind of gift I can give to you,” Feyd’s words made you freeze for a second.

You did not expect that.

“Keep in mind I only have a few hours to get it,” he added. “So don’t ask me for impossible things.”

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. A very delicious idea and it made your heart pound faster in your chest. You had your large victory with Feyd but you still weren’t sure how far he’d go for you, you still weren’t sure if his domestication process had been complete. This could be a great test of his obedience but it could also anger him. You decided to risk it since your new status was making you untouchable anyway.

“Well, there is something I want,” you whispered, seductively, as you looked deep inside his eyes.

“What is it?” He asked and you chuckled as you mysteriously covered your mouth with your hand. He furrowed his brow at that gesture and you beckoned him over as if you wanted to tell him a secret.

Unsurely, he leaned in for you to whisper into his ear.

“I want to be your only pet… like you are mine,” you breathed out and bit on his earlobe gently before pulling away and seeing the absolute terror on his face.

He was trying to hide it the best he could but you only smirked at him, not expanding your thoughts any further. You didn’t care what he’d do to them, you just wanted them to be discarded.

Feyd did not say anything. He took one last bite of his breakfast and left the table to walk away and walk out of the chambers. It was a little disappointing that he hadn’t given you any reaction whatsoever but you decided to give him some time to process your request and his own feelings.

You almost had a nervous breakdown in front of your wardrobe and it felt humiliating to be so emotional about the outfit to choose. Like all these months on Giedi Prime hadn’t changed the core of your personality – you were spoiled.

“Na-baroness, please, calm down, it’s going to be alright,” Astra’s eyes widened at you.

“I don’t know what is wrong with me…” You sniffed your tears back.

“It’s the baby, I’m sure, my Lady,” Cara assured you.

“There is no point in crying over a dress, I’m so stupid,” you sat on the bed and hid your face in your hands. 

“I think there is, actually, my Lady,” Astra swallowed thickly before sharing her thought and you looked up at her, questioningly. Cara did the same thing. “I mean, na-baroness, the clothes you’re wearing, they’re reflecting your power and personality. May I dare to say… Women do not have as many opportunities to display their power as men and for noble women… the way they’re presenting themselves… that’s very important, my Lady,” she explained. “Forgive me for my boldness but on the day of your wedding, na-baroness, your dress was turned into a mockery by the na-baron. But on the day of his fight in the arena, you established your dominance with that red leather dress, my Lady,” she bowed down her head and waited for you to scold her.

“You should have just shut your mouth,” Cara hissed at her.

But you only laughed cheerfully and extended your hands towards the girls to hold them.

“Oh, girls, I adore you,” you assured them. “Thank you for your insight, Astra. You are a very smart girl and you are right,” you told her and she looked up in disbelief as her eyes sparkled. “So are you, Cara, but you need to have more courage,” you squeezed Cara’s hand to show her some of your gratitude, too.

You didn’t want to favour any of them because it could lead to the other one growing to feel resentment and betraying you. You knew perfectly well how it felt like to be the less favoured one.

They both smiled sweetly and helped you to get up to choose from the dresses all over again. You wanted to look like a Harkonnen but you wanted to stand out, too. Not only were you the na-baroness but it was also your day, your celebration, your moment to shine.

Someone knocked upon your doors and Cara went to open them to see who that was.

“We have a gift for na-baroness,” you heard a male voice and you nodded your head at Cara for her to let them in.

Two of Baron Harkonnen's servants entered your bedroom carrying a big black box. You furrowed your brows at it as one of them bowed down and handed you a letter.

My Baroness, this gown is a gift from me. My own mother wore it for her celebration after conceiving an heir. The tailors have been working on it to adjust it to your size all night. It is your decision whether to wear it for the feast or not but it would bring me great pleasure to see you in it and proving your loyalty to the House Harkonnen. – Baron H.

A chill went down your spine. You didn’t expect that. It was his attempt to show his dominance over you, to test your loyalty as if there was still some hint of doubt about it. You were a Harkonnen now. You had nothing to prove.

“Unpack it,” you ordered his servants. You wanted to see the gown first.

The skirt was made of black leather with a long and slim train that resembled a snake. The bodice was made of black metallic net so tightly knotted that it was barely transparent but there were red gemstones scattered all over it, forming an emblem of the House Harkonnen on the chest.

You didn’t know what to do. The dress was stunning but you knew that wearing it would only give Baron a satisfaction you did not want to give him. On the other hand, you didn’t want to be too openly rebellious towards him like you were with your husband. And some part of you was scared to disobey him as you had disobeyed Feyd when you had been given a dress from him.

“I will wear it, thank you,” you nodded at the servants and they nodded their heads before walking out of the room and leaving you alone with your girls.

“So, problem solved,” Astra chuckled softly as she touched the fabric of the gown with awe.

“Not entirely,” Cara scolded her. “Isn’t our na-baroness also the Duchess Atreides now? This dress is to humiliate her,” she pointed out and then gave you an apologetic smile.

“That is true, my darling,” you told her. “But I have bent my knee in front of Baron Harkonnen. House Atreides – which I represent – serves the Baron now,” you explained. “Let’s put it on,” your eyes sparkled at the gown.

The bodice felt like an armour but the skirt was regal and feminine. It was a perfect mix, you had to admit. You hated the Baron for understanding your fashion sense so quickly. Suddenly, an odd feeling crossed your mind.

“I'm wondering what he was like when he was young, The Baron,” you told your girls as they widened their eyes at you. “What kind of husband would he be…”

“My Lady!” Astra gasped and you laughed at the terror and shock on her face.

“I just like getting pretty things,” you shrugged your arms and winked at her as you admired yourself in the mirror.

“If na-baroness keeps saying such things, you might make na-baron jealous and angry,” Cara reminded you. Little did she know she had just given you a great idea.

“Oh, maybe I want that, my sweet,” you chuckled at her. “You know what?” You decided to change the subject as the girls looked at each other, surprised. “I think I want to wear my hair up this time. Do you think you can manage that now?”

“Yes!” Astra was excited for the idea. “And we can attach the red gemstones to the hairdo to match the dress!”

“Sounds good,” you nodded at her with a smile.

You were supposed to enter the dining room as the last one, side by side with your husband for all the guests to admire you and cheer. So you were waiting in the room nearby, still admiring yourself in the mirror constantly. Feyd wasn’t there yet – in fact you hadn’t seen him since breakfast.

When the doors behind you opened without knocking, you knew already it had to be him and indeed, you spotted him in the mirror’s reflection. He was wearing his black leather uniform and squinted his eyes at you.

You turned around with a sly smile to show off your gown but he didn’t look very pleased.

“What is this dress?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“I hoped you’d tell me I look beautiful, dear husband,” you put your hands on your hips.

“I didn’t say you did not,” he pointed out and you smirked. “But I don’t recall giving you such a dress and I sincerely doubt it is one of those you brought with you from Caladan,” he gritted his teeth and you noticed his whole body went tense.

“It is a gift from your uncle,” you tried to sound as innocent as possible. “It was his mother’s,” you added and gasped in awe in an exaggerated way as you caressed the skirt.

“My uncle gave it to you?” Feyd approached you quickly and tugged on one of the sleeves as you squealed.

“What are you doing? Do you want to break it?!” You managed to push his hand away but his face was now inches away from yours and you could see anger spilling out of his eyes. His clenched jaw was practically shaking. “What is your problem? Can’t I accept gifts from your uncle? He is my family now as much as you are and he is my Baron whom I serve,” you added.

“I thought you wanted me to kill him,” Feyd drawled through gritted teeth.

“Maybe I don’t want that anymore. His gifts are nicer than yours,” you teased as you giggled cruelly into his face. “I mentioned to my girls earlier today that he would make a good husband if he was younger and healthier,” you continued. It was delicious to watch him in such torment but some part of you felt bad for it, too.

“You’re more stupid than I thought then,” Feyd spat out. “So disappointing.”

You let out a nervous laugh. It hadn’t gone as you expected. You had to take it back as fast as possible. You knew that he admired you for being cunning and you couldn't spoil that.

“Oh, darling,” you cupped his face and he flinched but you shushed him, “can’t you see I’m teasing you, my pet?” You raised your eyebrow at him. His muscles relaxed but his eyes were full of confusion. “You should have seen your ugly face when I was saying these things,” you giggled and you leaned in to place soft kisses upon his lips and cheeks.

“Why did you wear that dress?” He only asked after a short while, when he was less angry already.

“Because it’s pretty and I don’t want him to think that I am his enemy. He probably thinks that already but I don’t want to show it,” you explained softly. “Sometimes you have to lose a small battle in order to win the war.”

“He’s going to stare at you all evening. I hate it when he does that,” Feyd told you. You caressed his cheeks with your thumbs.

“He can stare as much as he wants. I didn’t wear it for him. I wore that for my husband and for my son,” you assured him.

These days feeding him with all these praises and sweet things felt easier than usual. These days it felt almost natural. You didn’t have to plan what to say. It was coming directly from your poisoned heart; filled with the venom of unwanted affection towards the man standing in front of you.

The guards knocked upon the door and you realised it was the time to finally leave the room and join the guests in the dining room. You took a deep breath in and lowered your arms to give your husband’s hands a squeeze before leaving his side and approaching the doors.

“Are you coming?” You looked back at him.

“I am,” he joined you and put his hand on your waist. “You look beautiful, by the way,” he smirked at you and you rolled your eyes but on the inside you felt the warmth spilling all over your body.

Feyd led you inside the dining room after you two had been announced. You were watched by the cheering people as you gracefully and slowly walked towards the podium with two large, black chairs. The Baron was sitting on the opposite side of the room and watching you with a smirk as the long train of your dress followed you as if it was a real snake indeed, slithering on the black marble floor.

You watched Feyd taking a seat on one of the chairs and you were about to sit on yours, when you felt his hands grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap. You didn’t want to fight him in front of all these people so you kept your smile on. And – even though it was taking away some of your dignity – it felt good, too. His right hand with the Harkonnen signet ring landed on your abdomen possessively. The long train of your dress was falling down the side of the podium as you decided to use the second chair as a footstool.

You weren’t presenting yourselves like a dignified noble couple of the future Baron and Baroness of Giedi Prime. You looked like barbarian rulers of the savage tribe; sitting lazily on your thrones and not caring much about the etiquette. It wasn’t exactly how you had planned this evening to go but you loved to spot the annoyance on the Baron’s face.

Once you were seated, the guests sat down as well and they were announced one after another to approach you, bow down and show off their gifts to you.

Lots of the presents weren’t actually for you but for your son. There were blades and knives of all sorts – all of them beautifully made. Some lords gifted you jewellery and the Bene Gesserit woman gave you an old book from the Bene Gesserit library. You couldn’t see her face behind the veil but you were sure that her eyes were watching you as carefully as the Baron’s. And as your aunt’s friend she was most likely your grandfather’s spy, too.

All the lords and ladies were back in their seats and you had a feeling it was all over now. You tried to hide your disappointment about the fact that there was no gift from Feyd when the servant announced:

“To Na-Baroness (Y/N) Harkonnen, Duchess of The House Atreides and a mother of his son, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen presents a humble offering hoping to win her favours,” the man bowed down as three servants approached you. Each one of them was holding a black, covered plate.

Everyone was staring in anticipation, knowing your husband’s reputation they wanted to see what kind of present it could be. You felt his muscles tensing as his hand squeezed your womb even more possessively. He was excited for you to see and your heart skipped a beat as you already had a feeling what it was.

Feyd nodded at the servants and they took the black, velvet veils off of the plates as everyone gasped in shock and disgust. You tried very hard not to react in any way at the sight of the three familiar heads of your husband’s pet darlings.

You swallowed thickly, feeling his impatience to see your reaction. From the corner of your eye you noticed that the Baron was very displeased and you wondered why.

The eyes of the guests were wide as everyone on Giedi Prime had known about Feyd’s cannibalistic lovers. Everyone in the room was aware of the significance of this gift and perhaps that was the reason behind Baron’s anger.

You didn’t want to thank your husband for the present. It would be humiliating to thank him in front of everyone for getting rid of his concubines. However, he was expecting praise as the rest of the room was expecting some sort of reaction. You turned your head around to place a passionate kiss upon his lips as you cupped his cheek with one of your hands and the guests cheered. The servants took the heads away and you were glad because the sight was making you feel sick.

As you were kissing Feyd who seemed to be very proud of himself, you realised that you had just killed people. Perhaps not directly but they died because of your order and your request. These creatures were twisted and sick and dangerous but they were still – in some way – people. You remembered your father’s words about taking human life.

People should not decide about other people’s right to live or die. As noblemen in power we are burdened with the responsibility of making such decisions way more often than we should. It is important to remember the value of each and every single human life.

You didn’t want to think of that. You didn’t want that feeling somewhere deep in your heart that you disappointed your father. He was dead and he was the one who had sent you here, causing you to become like this. He would have no right to judge you. You wanted to survive more than anything because the life you had been living so far was not satisfying enough. And now, orphaned and basically homeless, you finally could make a new life for yourself. This time everything would be on your terms.

You finished the kiss with a smile as you leaned in to peck Feyd’s lips again with a sweet chuckle. The servants placed a table in front of you as the feast was supposed to begin.

“Good boy,” you whispered to him.

“My Lady,” he nodded his head at you with a wide smile, showing off his black teeth. This time it didn’t even make you flinch as you had grown used to his face. Perhaps it was because of the child in your womb but you leaned in once again to put yet another kiss upon his lips and he eagerly kissed you back.

Feyd kept you on his lap during the feast. You were feeding him his almost raw steak with your fork and he was feeding you with cake that had been prepared for your celebration. You remembered your wedding celebration and chuckled to yourself how different these two banquets were.

At some point of digging the fork and knife into Feyd’s steak, you felt your mouth watering at the sight of blood leaking out of it on the plate. It deeply confused you since you had always found these disgusting.

“What is it, pet?” Feyd placed a kiss on your neck, waiting for another piece of meat you’d feed him with.

“It’s nothing, I…” You hesitated, your eyes fixated on the steak with a mix of fascination and confusion. Feyd noticed it and laughed at you.

“Try it,” he encouraged you but you shook your head, refusing. “Try it,” he took the fork from your hand and turned your head around before putting the piece of meat in front of your mouth. “He wants it, not you. It’s for him,” the hand he kept on your abdomen squeezed your womb. You still looked unsure. “He’s a Harkonnen, he has his needs,” Feyd explained.

“I’m a Harkonnen, too,” you whispered and he smirked.

“Then open your mouth like a good girl,” he ordered and you obeyed, not ever breaking eye contact. When the piece of a bloody steak was inside your mouth already, you let it melt a little on your tongue. Feyd placed his hand on your throat possessively but gently – his intention was not to hurt you but to feel you swallow.

You couldn’t tell the steak was delicious but it surprisingly was not as awful as you had expected. It had to be the effect of your pregnancy but you didn’t want to refuse your son anything he wanted. You wanted him to be born as strong as he could and to become a warrior even greater than his father.

As Feyd was staring at you with admiration, you suddenly realised that it would be so much easier to turn your son into another guard dog of yours. You could give Feyd many sons and each of them would be willing to kill for his mother and her ambitions. You got dreamy for a while, sincerely hoping Feyd wouldn’t insist on raising his children the same way he had been raised by his uncle. Despite your dream of having strong warriors sons, you didn't want them to achieve that through pain and losing a sense of humanity.

You gave Feyd a sweet smile and let him kiss you once more, not caring at all what all the guests had to think. And caring only a little about the Baron’s visible anger.

After a while the guests left their seats as they began approaching one another and exchanging courtesies. Many of them walked up to you to congratulate you personally. It felt delightful to see so much fear and respect in the eyes of those Harkonnen men who had looked so scary to you a few months earlier but now you saw them as nothing but pathetic.

You spotted that one of the Harkonnen ladies looked surprisingly familiar. She was talking to another woman. She had a hooded dress but for a brief while you were convinced that you could spot… hair. Astra and Cara had informed you that sometimes Harkonnen noble women were wearing wigs to look prettier but you had also been aware that nowadays it was considered as a faux pas because of you and your very real and very natural hair.

“Excuse me,” you left your husband’s side and left him with one of the lords. He was watching you walk away but he did not stop you.

With your heart squeezed in your chest, you touched a shoulder of one of those women and they both turned around, startled. You gasped at the sight of them.

They were your old maids you had brought with you from Caladan. The ones that had been given to the Harkonnen noble lords.

“My Lady…” They both bowed down and you looked them up and down.

Both of them were swollen with children and their faces looked exhausted. You could swear that their skin was a shade paler than you remembered. One of them had her hair shaved off completely but the other one kept her locks and she also had makeup on.

“My girls, where have you been?” You asked them with a gentle smile. “I hope your husbands treat you well,” you added as you touched their arms and they both flinched, especially the bald one.

“I can’t complain, na-baroness,” the one with hair told you. “Beginnings were difficult but now I’m a lady and not a maid,” she placed her hand on her swollen belly.

“I am very sorry, I hope you both know I had nothing to do with what happened,” you bit on your lower lip.

“My Lady, I have accepted my faith a long time ago,” she sighed. “My husband is not as handsome as yours, na-baroness, but he is worshipping me for my looks. I am sorry for keeping my real hair, I know it is rude to show it off around you, my Lady. That is why I have a hood on my head. But my husband doesn’t allow me to cut it. In fact, he wants them to be as long as they can get,” she explained.

“I do not mind you wearing hair on your head,” you told her. “Yours is real, you have a right to wear it.”

“But not to show it off, my Lady,” she explained.

“Is that some new law I’ve had no idea of?” You chuckled, watching the other one from the corner of your eye. She was acting extremely odd and her pupils were dilated to the point her eyes almost looked black.

“Not officially, no, as far as I am concerned,” your former maid explained, “but the Baron himself was telling the lords that their wives should not wear wigs because it is insulting to the new na-baroness,” she bowed down slightly.

“And what about you, darling? What happened to your beautiful hair?” You looked at the other one as she gasped and bowed down as well, nervously.

“M-my na-baroness,” she stuttered out.

“What is wrong with her?” You asked the other one.

“Her husband, he…”

“My husband is the greatest and the most generous man I could ever ask for, my Lady,” the startled one interrupted her as she widened her eyes even further at you. “There is not a day I am not grateful for him,” she continued and you squinted your eyes at her. You had given the same speech to your grandfather the other day about Feyd-Rautha. But your speech was purposefully planned out and she sounded like a programmed machine.

You wanted to ask her about more things when you noticed a huge and very unpleasant looking Harkonnen lord approaching you angrily. He bowed down at the sight of you but then he grabbed the bald woman by her arm and pulled her closer to him.

“What have I told you about walking away?!” He scolded her.

“I-I am so sorry, my Lord, please forgive me, I did not mean to disobey, please, my Lord…” She trembled.

“My Lord,” you told him and he laid his angry eyes at you, “it is my fault. I wanted to speak to my former maid. Please, I did not mean to steal your wife away from you.”

“Na-baroness doesn’t have to explain herself to me,” he bowed down to you. “It is an honour for you to speak to my wife, my Lady,” he added and dragged her away with him.

You watched with shock, terror and sadness but there was nothing you could do. You had to be a harsh na-baroness Harkonnen and accept their customs. You didn’t want to make scenes and ruin your own celebration.

After all, you were selfish, too.

“Mine is not like that,” the other woman only told you. “There he is,” she pointed at the man talking to Feyd-Rautha. The men looked at you and you both waved at them as they nodded. Her husband was not very good looking indeed but he wasn’t as scary as the other one. “I told you, my Lady, it could be worse,” she told you. “But be careful with the pregnancy,” she warned as you raised an eyebrow at her.

“What do you mean?”

“These babies… their babies, I mean… They change you. I hope not permanently, but they do. And I feel as if the child is feeding off of my life energy and strength. I am weakened and exhausted,” she sighed. “But it is alright. I know my husband will not let me die.”

“I do not have to worry about these things either,” you reminded her but some part of you tried to convince yourself at the same time.

“Of course, my Lady,” she nodded her head and your husbands approached you.

“I see a little reunion, my Lady,” your former maid’s husband bowed down at you. “Congratulations, na-baroness.”

“I congratulate you, too, my Lord,” you pointed at the woman’s abdomen and he smirked as he pulled her closer to him.

“I will forever be grateful to you, na-baroness, for bringing such a gem with you all the way from Caladan,” he told you and you gave him a faint smile. “Please, do forgive me for letting me keep her hair.”

“I don’t mind her hair, my Lord,” you told him.

“As long as she’s not showing it off,” suddenly Feyd barked as you furrowed your brow at him.

“Feyd!” You chuckled nervously, ashamed of his behaviour.

“It is understandable, my Lord na-baron,” the man bowed his head and walked away with his wife.

“What was that?” You asked your husband.

“No common lady shall outshine my wife,” he explained with his jaw clenched.

“Please,” you laughed softly as you cupped his angry face, “she’s my former maid. How could she ever outshine me?” You asked him and then you teased. “Do you think I am so easy to outshine, dear husband?”

“N-no, that is not what I meant,” his eyes widened as he shook his head. “I want you to be the only woman on this planet to shine.”

“Then don’t stand in the way of light,” you leaned in to whisper into his ear and then you giggled before kissing his cheek.

Feyd was asked to stay longer at the celebration by some of the lords who wanted to drink and party with him and other men but you decided to go to your chambers as the rest of the ladies. It was late already and you were getting tired so you said goodnight to your husband and the guests before excusing yourself and walking out of the dining room.

For the first time you noticed that there was no guard following you and your exhaustion suddenly turned into excitation. Since everyone was busy with the celebrations and you were free of company, it was a perfect excuse to wander a little around the fortress and through the corridors that you still had not explored properly.

It was your home now and you wanted to know all of it. At this point you had a few paths memorised already and you took the known one just in case you got lost and couldn’t find the way back. You passed the doors leading to the library and you pushed the next one open.

It was a Memory Room as they called it and it had the Harkonnen souvenirs and war trophies on display. You weren’t actually forbidden to go there at all but you had never gone there anyway. You had read about it in one of the books and you wanted to see it yourself but without any guard staring at you.

At this point of the night, the room was dark and empty with no one guarding it and the guards who were supposed to stand outside were most likely partying with other men as they abandoned their duties for the time of celebration.

You gasped at the size of the room as you looked around and allowed your eyes to get used to the darkness. Then you began walking around and looking at the exhibits behind the glass. The Harkonnen enemies were many and great and yet, all that was left of them remained now nothing but a trophy in this room.

There were other artefacts as well – like the one you were looking for. And when you finally spotted it, at the end of the wall, you smiled to yourself as you looked up. It was the blade given to you by the warrior during your wedding ceremony. He had won the bloody contest and swore to you that for his na-baroness he would shed the blood of his enemies. The blade still had dried up blood on it and below the exhibit there was an engraved inscription.

10191 AG – the blade given to Na-Baroness (Y/N) Harkonnen of The House Atreides on the day of her wedding to Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen from The Wedding Games winner Maxim Arseni

Lost in your thoughts of your name being engraved there forever, you stopped paying attention to your surroundings.

“I see you’re basking in your glory, Baroness,” a familiar, unpleasant voice startled you. You turned around and spotted the Baron himself floating in the air in the middle of the room with all his machinery behind him. How could you not hear him coming? You cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be so inattentive.

And now you were alone with him in a dark room when your husband was partying with other lords and couldn’t hear you even if you screamed for help.

“I am not basking, my Lord,” you bowed down slightly as you approached him a little to be able to see him more, “and surely I have no glory attached to my name yet.”

He smirked.

“You wore the dress,” he pointed out.

“It is beautiful, my Lord, thank you,” you nodded.

“Do you know that the harpies were my gift to Feyd for one of his birthdays? They costed me quite a lot as they had been genetically modified for him. He had a tendency of getting bored of his previous pets so I prepared him something special. He was mesmerised by them and their infinite sexual desire, their bloodthirst and devotion,” Baron was explaining to you but you could hear irritation in his voice.

Now you could understand why he was so angry. You accidentally told his dear nephew to get rid of his expensive gift.

“Did you tell him to get rid of them or did that boy do it himself?” Baron asked and you remained silent because both answers would only make it worse.

If you told him it had been your idea, he’d get his proof that you were playing a game indeed. If you lied to him it had been Feyd’s idea, he’d start thinking that Feyd was getting weak.

Unless…

“I asked him to get rid of them, my Lord. I’ve had no idea they were so meaningful,” you admitted. “But I did not specify what I want to be done to them. Their death surprised me no less than you, my Baron. His bond with them was known to me,” you added as genuinely as possible.

“I am aware what game you’re playing, Baroness,” Baron’s voice was surprisingly calm, almost as if he admired you. “Such a timid little thing that came here only a few months ago, tripping as she walked towards my throne on the first day… already making my life more exciting,” his eyes sparkled.

“You forgot how it’s like to have real enemies, did you not, my Lord?” You asked him, carefully. “They’re all so scared of you that they don’t even walk up close to you anymore. They are no worthy opponents. Even my father did not dare to fight you, he preferred to give me away for peace.”

“Your father was weak, Duchess Atreides,” Baron pointed out.

“I know,” you shrugged your arms.

“So you do know what use there is of weak men. Do you really want our Feyd to become one?” He asked and you were almost caught off guard by the tone of his voice. He was talking to you as if you were an equal.

He already knew that he was losing his control over Feyd-Rautha to you but he still hoped to share him.

Of course you couldn’t trust him. He was pretending to be your friend for his own gain. However, it meant that you had been promoted in the ladder of his enemies if his strategy was no longer humiliation and threats but fake friendship instead.

“I do not wish him to be weak,” you explained. “It is the last thing I want,” you told him, truthfully. “What you did to him… was awful. But it is something that cannot be taken back and it is something I do not want to take back,” you emphasised. 

“Yet now, after seeing his gift, all the Harkonnen lords are whispering between each other that my successor is getting weak for a woman,” Baron informed you and you gritted your teeth. If he wasn’t lying, the news were not pleasing you either. But it was useful for your little plan. “And what do we do now, my Baroness?” Baron asked.

“Let him fight in the arena,” you proposed, trying to hide the excitement on your face. He couldn’t know it was a part of your scheming, he had to think it was an idea that had just popped into your head. 

“Hmm,” he hummed to himself. “What do you mean?”

“It’s going to be his hundredth kill, right?” You asked and he nodded. “And as far as I am concerned it’s going to be his birthday, too.”

“Yes, has he told you?” Baron laughed.

“No, my servants have,” you answered truthfully. “I think for this special occasion you should give him a real warrior to kill. Not someone weak and not someone drugged. Let these whispering lords see how weak he is getting indeed. They’re quickly going to see that they were wrong about him. I’ve watched him fight and he’s excellent,” you finished.

“Interesting,” Baron squinted his eyes at you. “But also very convenient for you if he dies there. Because you're already carrying his son.”

“I have no gain in Feyd dying in the arena,” you laughed at him. “If he dies there, you’re going to kill me the moment I push the baby out and train him like you trained my husband,” you told him and then you realised that it was really true.

A shiver went down your spine. You suddenly regretted your proposition but it could not be taken back now.

“I will think of that,” Baron nodded his head at you. “You should go to sleep now and rest,” he added and you bowed down before approaching the doors, trying not to show how much you wanted to get away as fast as possible. “However,” he started and you slowed down with your hand already on the doors’ handle, “you think that I resent you way more than I actually do, Baroness,” he added and you swallowed thickly before nodding your head and walking out.

You sighed with relief at the sight of the familiar corridor and you hurried to the staircase leading to the living quarters to finally go back to your room.

MASTERLIST

#feyd rautha x reader #austin butler x reader #lilysfiction #tttw #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader

[legends-of-time]

The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 21: Early August 1920

Masterlist

Billy had agreed to stay at Downton with Sybil so that their child could be born in the house and so she doesn't have to travel as much to see her family while so heavily pregnant. Emma is ecstatic when she finds out.

It is rather convenient as only a week after the arrangement is made Emma is awoken to find out that Sybil is having pains which means she may or may not start giving birth at any moment. The young woman has never gotten up so fast. Tom chuckles at his wife as she rushes to Sybil's room.

Emma stands with Sybil's mother and sisters as Dr Clarkson checks on her.

"The pains have stopped. Nothing will happen yet." Dr Clarkson tells them. They then join the men waiting in the Hall.

"Everything is fine." Dr Clarkson tells them. Billy sighs with relief.

"You mean it was a false alarm?" Lord Grantham states.

"Not exactly." Dr Clarkson replies. "These early labour pains show that the womb is preparing itself for birth." Lord Grantham pulls a face at his words.

"Dr Clarkson, I'm afraid Lord Grantham doesn't enjoy medical detail." His wife remarks. "The point is, can we all go back to bed?"

"You can." Dr Clarkson tells them. "And so can I."

"I'll see you out," Mary says.

"Sir Philip Tapsell will be here tomorrow." Lord Grantham says.

Dr Clarkson seems slightly offended by his statement. "Of course. If you think it advisable."

"There really is nothing wrong?" Billy asks him.

"Nothing at all." Dr Clarkson reassures. "She is a healthy young woman going through a very normal and natural process."

——

Emma wakes the next morning and soon after breakfast, she is sat with Sybil and Mary.

"I'm the size of a house. My back hurts, my ankles are swelling, and my head aches. Honestly, I cannot recommend this to anyone." Sybil complains.

"I could've told you that." Emma quips, smiling.

"I am listening, but of course, I'm dying to start one of my own," Mary responds.

Sybil looks up at her eldest sister. "So, you're not waiting?"

"Waiting for what?"

"I don't know, but I did wonder."

"Well, there's no need to worry about that just yet," Emma says. She knows there's more than enough time for Mary and Matthew before there's need for any worry. "Though I can tell you all this talk of babies make me think of the christening and how glad I am that Ivy was baptised in Dublin and not Downton. Can you imagine?"

"Blimey," Mary says. "But it was what you wanted and not Tom's?"

"Oh, I didn't mind. And I love Tom so very, very much." Emma replies.

"Billy doesn't care how we baptise the baby, as long as I'm happy. He is giving me complete control. He probably feels bad because I'm exhausted and in pain." Sybil explains.

Emma laughs. "That's Billy."

Sybil chuckles. Both Mary and Emma can tell she needs to sleep some more.

Mary stands. "We'll let you rest."

——

"Quite a few of the cottages have been renovated," Matthew says as he, Mary, Emma and Tom take a walk around the grounds.

"Thanks to you." Mary compliments.

"Maybe a little thanks to me," Matthew replies.

"Many of the farms seem abandoned," Tom says.

"It is because many of them have been left entirely to their own devices," Matthew explains. "Coulter hasn't farmed this properly for 20 years. He struggles to pay the rent, which is too low anyway. There's been no... investment."

"Papa would say you can't abandon people just because they grow old," Mary says.

"I agree, but it would be cheaper to give him a free cottage and work this land as it should be worked," Matthew argues.

"That makes sense but you don't think Lord Grantham understands that?" Tom asks.

"Maybe he harks back to a time when money was abundant," Matthew complains. "There wasn't much need to keep on top of it. I think he equates being business-like with being mean. Or worse, middle-class like me."

"Being middle class means you actually have some business skills," Emma remarks. Mary gives her a reprimanding look, which would have been effective if it weren't for the smile on her face.

"Well, the middle classes have their virtues, and husbandry is one," Matthew says.

"We ought to get back," Mary tells them. "Sir Philip thingy's due on the seven o'clock train. Mathew and Tom ought to be there to hold Billy's hand."

"Poor fellow. He's so terrified, and so thrilled at the same time. As I would be. As I WILL be." Matthew says. Emma sees that Mary looks uncomfortable.

——

The last thing that Emma wants to do is sit around at dinner while Sybil could give birth at any moment, but alas, she is sitting at dinner with Sir Philip.

"The dear Duchess of Truro is full of your praises, Sir Philip. Then, of course, you know that." The Dowager compliments from between Lord Grantham and Billy. On Billy's right is Matthew then Emma then Lady Grantham, Sir Philip, Mary, Tom and Edith.

"She had quite a time when she was first married, but I said to her, 'Never fear, Duchess, I'll get a baby out of you one way or another'." He replies, causing Lord Grantham to choke on his drink. Emma chuckles at this, holding her drink over her mouth to hide her laughter.

"And so you did." The Dowager continues to cover up her son's faux pas.

"Three boys, and as a result, a secure dynasty, I'm glad to say." Emma rolls her eyes. Does this man honestly believe he can control the sex of a baby?

Emma notices Matthew staring at Mary during this statement. She realises then that Mathew must be thinking about the lack of pregnancy in their marriage as well.

"But you see no complications here?" Lord Grantham asks.

"None at all. Lady Sybil is a perfect model of health and beauty."

"We told our local doctor we'd send a message to him when it looks as if the baby's coming." Lady Grantham says.

"Dr Clarkson has known us all since we were girls," Mary explains.

"Yet what's needed here, Lady Mary, is a knowledge of childbirth, nothing more." Sir Philip corrects, which Emma frowns at. "But if it soothes you, then of course. He's most welcome." 

——

Emma misses breakfast downstairs the next morning and has it in bed as Ivy had been particularly fussy and wouldn't settle.

When Emma comes downstairs, she meets with a mildly excited Edith.

"Edith? What is it?"

"The editor of The Sketch wants me to write for him. He saw my letter to The Times, and wants to give me a regular column." Edith explains.

Emma's eyes widen. "This is amazing! What would it be about?"

"I can write about whatever I like but papa only thinks they want my name and title and nothing else," Edith says sadly.

"Well, he's wrong," Emma argues. "The editor has seen what you have to say and is interested in more, I'm sure that's all it is."

"I hope you're right," Edith says.

——

Emma is further uplifted by the news that Anna may have found the evidence needed to prove Mr Bates' innocence from his ex-wife's friend.

Mary, Emma and Edith make their way downstairs before dinner.

"Gemma says Daisy is being harsh to the Kitchen maid, Ivy." Emma is saying to the two sisters.

"I honestly find it funny that your daughter and the new Kitchen maid have the same last name." Mary chuckles.

"It's a nice name!" Emma defends.

"Even so, I hope it resolves itself," Edith says. They meet Billy at the bottom of the stairs.

"Are we the first down? How is Sybil?" Mary asks him.

"Sleeping, thank God. She's been restless all afternoon. I don't think it'll be long now." Billy replies anxiously.

"I'm sorry it couldn't have been in Southampton," Emma says.

"We know how much it meant," Edith adds.

"Nothing means more than she does." They smile at his words and head towards the Drawing room.

——

"And you're sure you have everything you need?" Lord Grantham is asking as they enter.

"Quite sure." Sir Philip answers. Emma notices the Dowager has joined them for dinner. Lord Grantham, Matthew and Sir Philip had been in a huddle but split when Emma, Mary, Edith and Billy walk in. Emma quickly walks over to stand with Tom, who's standing next to where Lady Grantham sits.

"Hello, Granny. You're here. How nice." Edith greets her grandmother with a kiss on the cheek before sitting on the settee next to her.

"Your grandmother will be with us every night until the baby's born." Lady Grantham explains.

"I hate to get news second-hand." The woman remarks.

"Well, you won't have long to wait." Sir Philip says.

"I thought I'd bring up Dr Clarkson after we've eaten." Lady Grantham says to her husband, who immediately looks uncomfortable. Emma can't help but wonder what he's done.

"Yes, I've been talking to Lord Grantham about the good doctor." Sir Philip says. Emma doesn't like his tone.

"Sir Philip feels the room would be too crowded. It might be better to leave old Clarkson out of it for the time being." Lord Grantham explains.

"But I said I'd telephone." Lady Grantham says.

"Well, it really isn't necessary." Sir Philip argues.

"I've given him my word." Lady Grantham insists, looking challengingly at her husband.

"Why don't I run down in the car after dinner, and fetch him?" Edith suggests to diffuse the conversation.

——

Emma, Edith, the Dowager, Lord Grantham, Mary, Tom, Billy, Sir Philip, Lady Grantham and Matthew all sit tensely and quietly at dinner.

Emma frowns when she sees Jimmy and Alfred walk in as the former seems to be acting as the first footman despite only being second. She can see Mr Carson looks displeased but doesn't say anything as Jimmy leans down to serve.

Lady Grantham sighs. "There's nothing more tiring than waiting for something to happen." Billy lets out a small smile but still looks anxious.

"Edith, have you written back to your editor yet?" Matthew asks across Emma to Edith.

"What's this?" The Dowager asks.

"Edith has had an invitation to write a newspaper column," Matthew explains.

"When may she expect an offer to appear on the London stage?" The Dowager remarks.

Edith sighs and turns to Matthew. "See?" Clearly, Edith has told Matthew all about the lack of faith the family often shows.

Suddenly the door opens and the Nurse who's been staying with Sybil walks in. The family stands.

"Oh, God, is it beginning?" Billy asks. Sir Philip simply smiles and guides the expectant father out of the room.

——

Dinner is suspended and Dr Clarkson arrives. He checks on Sybil before reporting to them all, except Billy, in the Library.

"What do you mean, 'concerned'?" Lord Grantham asks.

"Lady Sybil's ankles are swollen. She seems... muddled." Dr Clarkson explains.

"What sort of muddled?" Lady Grantham asks.

"Not quite there, not quite in the present moment."

"And what do you think it means?" Mary asks.

"It means she's having a baby." Sir Philip declares. Lord Grantham chuckles.

"A word, Dr Clarkson." Sir Philip says.

"Excuse me." The two doctors walk out of the room.

"Sir Philip mustn't bully him into silence." Lady Grantham warns.

Lord Grantham sits down. "My dear, this is just Clarkson's professional pride, like barbers asking who last cut your hair. They always want to be better than any other practitioner." Emma frowns at his words.

"Surely it's more than that and we must listen to what he has to say." Emma points out.

"I quite agree." The Dowager says.

"I don't want to hurt Sir Philip's feelings."

"If there's one thing that I'm quite indifferent to it's Sir Philip Tapsell's feelings." His mother retorts.

——

Emma and Lady Grantham share Dr Clarkson's concerns and go with him to Sybil and Billy's room.

"Now what?" Sir Philip huffs when they enter. Anna is following after them with a glass of warm milk for Sybil.

"I want to test the latest sample of her urine." Dr Clarkson says.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake."

"Just give the order to the Nurse, please, Sir Philip." Lady Grantham says. Sir Philip reluctantly does so. Dr Clarkson, with Emma and Lady Grantham trailing after him, goes to the bed where Sybil sits and Billy sits in the bed next to her, holding her hand. Emma takes in the sight of the trembling and sweating woman on the bed.

"How's the young mother doing?" Dr Clarkson asks Sybil.

"Am I on duty, Dr Clarkson?" Sybil suddenly asks.

"What?" Dr Clarkson is taken aback and Emma can't blame him. This just confirms that Sybil is muddled.

Sybil begins to shake her head. "Only I swear I'm not on duty, otherwise I wouldn't be lying here."

"No. No, you're not on duty." Doctor Clarkson reassures.

Emma looks to Lady Grantham, worry etched onto her face.

Sybil grasps Emma's hand. "Emma, can you cover me, please? I shouldn't be on duty." She pleads.

"Um, yes, of course," Emma replies. Sybil moans and hyperventilates.

——

"It's my belief that Lady Sybil is at risk of eclampsia." Dr Clarkson tells them all with the exception of Billy and Sybil.

"What is that?" Lord Grantham asks Sir Philip. Emma can't help but feel irritated by his exclusion of Dr Clarkson.

"A rare condition from which she is NOT suffering." Sir Philip corrects.

"Tell him why you think she may be." Lady Grantham urges.

"Her baby is small, she is confused, and there is far too much albumen that is, protein in her urine." Dr Clarkson explains.

"Dr Clarkson, please! Have you forgotten my mother is present?" Lord Grantham complains.

"Please. A woman of my age can face reality far better than most men." His mother remarks.

"The fact remains, if I am right, we must act at once." Dr Clarkson declares.

"And do what?" Mary asks.

"Get her down to the Hospital, and deliver the child by Caesarean section."

"But is that safe?" Emma questions. She had heard that in this time period c-sections were not as safe as they will be in her time.

"It is the opposite of safe." Sir Philip answers. "It would expose mother and child to untold danger. She could pick up any kind of infection in a public Hospital."

"An immediate delivery is the only chance of avoiding the fits brought on by the trauma of natural birth! It may not work, but–"

"Honesty at last." Sir Philip interrupts. "Even if she were at risk from eclampsia, which she is NOT, a caesarean is a gamble which might kill either or both of them."

Lord Grantham rubs his forehead, stressed. "I think we must support Sir Philip in this."

"But it's not our decision," Mary argues. "What does Billy say?"

"Billy has not hired Sir Philip." Her father counters. "He is not master here, and I will not put Sybil at risk on a whim. If you are sure, Sir Philip?"

"I am quite, quite certain." Sir Philip replies.

"You're being ridiculous. Obviously, we have to talk to Billy." Lady Grantham argues.

Lord Grantham looks to his mother, who retorts, "Don't look at me. Cora is right. The decision lies with the ship builder."

——

"Could we get her to the Hospital?" Billy asks as they stand in the Upper corridor. They had just explained to him what is happening.

"To move her would be tantamount to murder." Sir Philip argues.

"Sir Philip, admit you're beginning to detect the symptoms yourself." Dr Clarkson counters. "You can see her distress!"

"Can you?" Lady Grantham asks.

"Yes, Lady Sybil is in distress. She's about to give birth." Emma rubs her forehead, her irritation with this man is giving her a headache.

Dr Clarkson turns his begging elsewhere. "Lord Grantham, Mr Prior, time is running out. We'd be at the Hospital by now if we'd acted at once. The baby would be born."

"If she has the operation now, do you swear you can save her?" Billy asks.

"I cannot swear it, no." Dr Clarkson admits. "But if we do not operate, and I am right about her condition, then she will die."

"If, if!" Sir Philip complains. "Lord Grantham, can you please take command?"

"Billy, Dr Clarkson is not sure he can save her. Sir Philip is certain he can bring her through it with a living child." Lord Grantham argues. "Isn't a certainty stronger than a doubt?"

"Robert, I don't mean to insult Sir Philip, but Dr Clarkson knows Sybil. He's known her all her life." His wife begs.

"So, you'd take her to the Hospital?" Billy asks his mother-in-law.

"I would've taken her an hour ago!" Sybil screams in the distance.

"God help us!" Billy mutters. The screams continue. Emma runs to Sybil's room with Billy, Mary, Edith and Lady Grantham following.

——

Lots of screaming later, Sybil finally gives birth to a baby girl.

Sybil smiles at her daughter, cradling her. "Oh, Emma." She murmurs. "Our daughters are the same age."

"I'm sure they'll be very close," Emma replies with a warm smile. "Someone needs to tell Billy."

"I'll do it," Mary says and hurries out of the room.

Billy soon returns and embraces his wife and child.

——

"Congratulations," Matthew says to Billy, patting him on the shoulder, as they join him, Lord Grantham and Tom in the Upper corridor.

"Thank you." Billy happily replies.

Lady Grantham is slower in coming out of the room. She happily grabs her husband's hands and gives him a kiss. "I'm sorry we doubted."

"No. As to that, Lady Grantham, it's always a good idea to forget most of what was said during the waiting time, and simply enjoy the result." Sir Philip cheerfully replies and shakes Lord Grantham's hand. Emma looks at Dr Clarkson, who doesn't look pleased and this makes her stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Is there anything more to be done?" Mary asks Sir Philip.

"Not really. The Nurse will stay with her, and so I suggest we all get some sleep, and meet again refreshed in the morning." Sir Philip answers.

——

The happiness doesn't last for long and in the night, the Nurse frantically wakes them up. Emma and Tom rush to Sybil's room with Edith and Matthew while Mary wakes her parents. Billy is already there with the doctors and stands beside Sybil, who is wincing in pain as she hyperventilates.

Mary joins them as Dr Clarkson checks on Sybil, who is trying to speak but it comes out all incoherently. Dr Clarkson moves away and Billy and Emma step forward.

"Can you hear me, darling? It's Billy." He says, attempting to soothe her.

"I need to be getting up."

"No, my darling."

"I need to—" Sybil begins crying.

"Darling, all you need to do is rest."

Sybil cries out in pain. "My head. Oh, my head! My head!" She hits her forehead repeatedly.

Emma strokes her head. "Sybil, calm down, let me bathe your forehead."

Mary passes her a wet cloth and she begins dabbing against Sybil's forehead, trying to soothe the woman. Sybil's head tilts backwards.

"It hurts! It hurts!"

"What's happening?" Lord Grantham demands when he and his wife enter. Sybil seems to begin choking as if having a seizure.

Emma shakes her, attempting to speak to her. "Sybil?" She cries.

"Oh, God. Oh, God! God, no, no!" Billy cries

"What the hell is happening? Sir Philip?" Lord Grantham demands to know.

"Sybil? She can't hear me. Sybil? Sybil, it's Mary. Can you hear me?" Mary desperately shakes her sister but she can't get through as Sybil seizes, her airways closing.

"It looks as if–" Sir Philip begins.

"It looks as if what?" Lady Grantham demands.

"This is eclampsia." Emma hears Dr Clarkson inform. Mary, Emma, Billy and Lady Grantham crowd around Sybil.

"Sybil. Sybil." Emma tries. "She can't hear us."

"Somebody do something!" Matthew yells from the end of the bed.

"The human life is unpredictable." Sir Philip defends. Emma wants to strangle the man.

"But you were so sure!" Lord Grantham insists.

"What can we do?" Tom asks.

"Help her, help her, please!" Billy shouts. Sybil hyperventilates and wheezes.

"Please," Emma screams. "Just breathe, Sybil, please."

"Oh, God, no!" Billy weeps.

"Dr Clarkson, shall we take her to the Hospital?" Edith asks.

"There's nothing that can be done." Dr Clarkson replies. Emma's stomach twists in knots.

"It's not possible, not these days!" Matthew retorts.

"Once the seizures have started, there's nothing to be done."

"But you don't agree with him do you, Sir Philip?" Lord Grantham insists but he doesn't get a reply.

"Please, don't leave me. Help her, help her, please! What's happening?!" Billy begs.

"She can't breathe," Mary says desperately.

"Please, please, just breathe." Billy cradles his wife's head as she tosses and turns.

"There has to be something worth trying!" Lord Grantham yells at the Doctors.

"Come on, come on, breathe, love," Billy begs.

"Come on, Sybil." Her mother encourages pleadingly.

"Breathe, love. Come on. Sybil? Listen, it's me, my darling. All you need to do is breathe." Billy continues. "What's happening? Please breathe, love! Please!"

"Please." Lady Grantham weeps.

Everyone is around Sybil, trying to help her but there is little to be done as she continues to seize. Emma watches as her skin turns a grey-blue.

"She can't breathe." Mary cries before taking in her sister's appearance and stepping back in shock.

"Sybil." Emma pleads. "Sybil, wake up, please."

There's a ringing in her ears, nothing is processing with her as she sees her best friend dead. Her best friend laying there dead because they hadn't listened to Dr Clarkson. She is gone. Emma feels as if someone has ripped out her heart.

"Please, love. No, no!" Billy continues.

"No, no..." Lady Grantham sobs.

"Please wake up. Please don't leave me." Billy begs, shaking his wife. "Please wake up, love. Please don't leave me! Please don't leave me, love!"

Doctor Clarkson leans over to take her pulse. He walks away, shaking his head. Lady Grantham and Billy continue sobbing and begging.

Emma sees Lord Grantham walk forward to look at his daughter. "But this can't be. She's 24 years old. This cannot be." Emma can't look at him right now. 

Emma stands, sobbing. "She's dead, she's dead, she's dead." She whimpers as Tom holds her up. "Oh, God."

If he wasn't there, she would have fallen to the ground. Through her tears, Emma spots Mary watching her. Mary stares at her, tears in her eyes as she notices how much pain Emma is in. She takes a few steps towards her, embracing her as they cry.

The sound of crying comes from the direction of the Nursery. The baby.

——

The next morning Emma is back in Sybil's room, now dressed in black. Tom has joined her, not wanting her to be alone again. He stands behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders as he traces his thumbs in circles. Billy sits next to her by the bed and Mary sits on a chair in the corner.

"The men from Grassby's have arrived." Edith notifies as she enters the room.

Billy doesn't look away from Sybil. "To take her away?"

"Yes. And we must let them." Mary speaks up.

Billy moves away from the bed, not being able to watch them take her. Emma watches him solemnly. Mary stands up and walks forward with Edith following.

The eldest Crawley daughter leans over the youngest. "Goodbye, my darling." Mary gives Sybil's forehead a kiss. Edith does the same.

"She was the only person living who always thought you and I were such nice people," Mary murmurs.

"Oh, Mary..." Edith's voice cracks. "Do you think we might get along a little better in the future?"

"I doubt it," Mary replies. "But since this is the last time we three will all be together in this life, let's love each other now, as sisters should." The two sisters pull each other into a hug.

They step away and Emma walks over to Sybil. "I'll look after her don't worry. Our daughters will be the best of friends, just like you wanted, I promise." She murmurs before giving her a kiss on the forehead as well. She steps back and tries to hold back her sobs. She feels Tom wrapping an arm around and she clings to him.

They leave the room so that Billy can say goodbye to his wife alone.

——

They are gathered in the Drawing room. Isobel, Matthew, Tom, Lord and Lady Grantham, Edith, Mary and Emma. The men stand while the rest of them sit on the various pieces of furniture.

"Ah, Mama." Lord Grantham greets when his mother walks in. Edith and Mary stand to greet their grandmother.

"Oh, my dears." The Dowager says, brushing her hand over her daughter-in-law's shoulder before kissing the cheeks of her remaining granddaughters. To Emma, she seems frailer than usual.

"You'll be glad to know they've found a nurse for the baby. She is already here." Lord Grantham informs her.

"Good, good. Where's Billy?" The Dowager asks.

"He's upstairs. I've asked if he wants anything. He says no." Edith replies, sitting down next to Mary, who has already sat down.

"He wants his wife back, but that's what he can't have." Lady Grantham says, looking as if she's only just holding herself together, before standing. "I must write to Dr Clarkson and have it sent down before dinner." She turns to leave.

"Darling, there's no need for that." Her husband responds.

"I should. I want to." She says quickly. "I have to apologise for our behaviour."

"What? Why?" Mary questions.

"Because if we'd listened to him, Sybil might still be alive. But Sir Philip and your father knew better, and now she's dead." Her mother replies harshly. Emma honestly can't blame her for feeling this way.

"Why... Why did she say that?" The Dowager asks her son.

"Because there is some truth in it." He replies.

"My dear, when tragedies strike, we try to find someone to blame." His mother argues. "In the absence of a suitable candidate, we usually blame ourselves. You are not to blame. No-one is to blame. Our darling Sybil has died during childbirth, like too many women before her, and all we can do now..." she swallows thickly, "...is cherish her memory, and her child."

"Nevertheless, there is truth in it." He simply responds.

——

It had been a while since she had been to the Courtyard but Emma feels like she needs to be in a familiar setting.

"Well, this seems familiar." Emma hears someone say behind her. She turns to see Thomas standing behind her. She notes his red eyes and splotchy cheeks as if he's just been crying.

"Hi." Her voice is scratchy from her own crying. Thomas walks up to stand next to her. They stand quietly, looking at the stars.

"I miss the old days." Thomas then says. "You and me talking."

"Me too," Emma replies. "We don't see each other much these days, do we?"

"No, you had to go and get married. To Mr Branson." Emma snorts at the distaste in his voice.

"Well, I like him," Emma remarks. They chuckle before going quiet.

"How's the baby?" Thomas quietly asks, tentative.

Emma gives him a sad smile. "She's doing well. There's nothing wrong. Ivy seems interested in this new addition. I've moved Ivy into the Nursery so two of them have each other for company."

Thomas snorts. "It's funny your daughter has the same name as the new Kitchen maid."

Emma rolls her eyes. "In my defence, I named my daughter before this other Ivy turned up at Downton." They chuckle.

"Things are going to be different now," Emma says after a moment. "Who knows what's coming."

"We'll have to be ready," Thomas responds.

——

A/N: I had missed doing Thomas scenes, I wanted a call back to the old days.

Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

Also, I'm so sorry.

#downton abbey

[bubblegumbi0tch]

Breed

Warning: Public sex, Breeding, cum inflation, hybrid Bokuto

He's been acting weird all day. Sniffing, snorting, grunting, sweating, even swearing. You know it's 'that time' for him, but this is different. This could be dangerous.

Not wanting to be cooped up with a carnally frustrated pup, you recommend a walk in the park. It's a beautiful summer evening, and maybe some fresh air will breathe some civility into those aching bones of his.

The sun is about to set, leaving streaks of purple and pink across the sky. There's a nice breeze blowing through the leaves, making a soft sound. Its overshadowed by the boisterousness of the park: kids, dog hybrids, families; it seems like everyone had the idea to go out tonight.

But even this is overshadowed by the grunting of your lover, each step, each breath, each movement making him groan. Poor thing. You try to hold his hand as you walk beside him, but it's so slippery with sweat, you can't get a good grip. He sneers at your attempt and pulls his hand away. What," you ask, "stop it, (y/n). it's y-your fault I'm like this," he barks back, shoving both hands into the pockets of his shorts. "Excuse me? What the fuck did I do?"

"It's day fourteen. I can smell it on you." He gets uncomfortably close, nudging his face against the side of your face. "You in ovulation right now, waiting for me." Oh fuck. Ovulation. Your face flushes red, and you stop dead in your tracks. Put a hand on your lower stomach, right above your womb, and glare at him. "That's not my fault. I can't control that." He lets his jaw open, a bit of drool running down his chin as his tongue licks at his upper teeth. "you know how easy it'd be? to knock you up?" "Kōtarō stop," you hiss, looking around to make sure no one caught him saying that. A couple walking a few paces behind you laughs to themselves, then passes you in silence.

"What? he whines. You Pause to collect yourself, taking a few steps away from him, already feeling slickness between your legs. Damnit. He laughs at the air loudly before licking his teeth again and stepping back into your personal space. "I can smell that, sweetheart," he purrs, grabbing your upper arm roughly, fat bulging between his thick thighs, "you can't hide from me. I bet I could bend ya over right here and make you cum all over my cock."

"Kōtarō," you snarl as you try to jerk away from him. He's right, but. But fuck that! He can't just do this; he can't have that much control over you. Especially not in public like this.

"that's it," he says lowly, fingers gripping until you squeal, "no other options now, babe. come with me." With his hold on your arm, he pulls you into a nearby grove of pine trees. The sharp needles prick and tickle your skin as you stumble behind him, struggling to keep up with his frantic pace. What is he going to do? Is he going to fuck you out in the open?

Beyond the grove is a small clearing filled with thistle bushes, utterly void of people, a lush virgin forest on the other side. Time and reality pause as he teleports both of you to the other side, deep within the trees. The only sounds are your breathing, the rustling of wind through the thick canopy above, and the quiet creak of the trees. You both look at each other. Blink once. Twice. And then he's upon you.

A fluttering giggle escapes your mouth as his hands immediately go to your ass, pressing his crotch into you, his hard erection already throbbing and ready. Lean your head back as he runs his teeth and tongue across your neck, feeling the need on him, smelling it in his musk,

"you're gonna be so pretty," he rumbles into your skin, breath so hot, your hands reaching to take hold of his jacket for stability, "all swollen and heavy with my babes."

You whine at his words; he's played around with the idea, but with this intense heat cycle, he really wants to impregnate you. Maybe this time, he'll actually do it. Filled with a slurry of fear and excitement, you remain as quiet as you can but still give into every touch and lick.

"you want that, don't you?" He dips between your breasts, fingers yanking and tugging until your chest is naked.

"I-I don't, uh," you trail off as he nuzzles his face into your tits and growls like an animal, mouthing at your flesh and nipples. Your pants are yanked down, and he immediately grabs a handful of your wet panties.

"oooh, yes, you do. your body doesn't lie." His fingers slip behind the thin fabric, collecting your wetness and beginning to rub it up and down your folds. He sniffs at the air again, thrusting his erection into you, demanding attention. Your dominant hand slides into his shorts to pull his cock out; it's harder and hotter than you've ever felt, dripping so much precum that it's staining his clothes. His fingers hasten, entering you, thumb diddling at your clit.

"tell me," he says with a kiss, planting his wet teeth against your puckered lips, "tell me you want my cum inside you ." His own words fuel the fire, making him buck his dick between your legs, bumping his hand still ravaging your cunt.

"Oh, fuck, please fill me, Kōtarō. I need you to fill me," you moan out, feeling a release from saying the words alone. Finally, you've said it, the truth, your fingers clenching around him only for him to remove them.

"with what?" he asks as he teases your hungry entrance with the tip of his length, stroking up and down your wet crease.

"Your cum! Give me your gift, your seed, please! I need you now."

Panties ripped open, he grabs you by the thighs and slams you against the trunk of a tree, penetrating you immediately. It's so big! He's so hot, it throbs inside you once before he starts a breakneck pace, fucking you with a vigor you've never experienced before. Your tits bounce in his face as he just grits his teeth and fucks you, grunting and growling, entirely focused on your pussy.

"Ghuaaa FUCK," you scream, uncaring of who might hear you; it already feels so good, the intensity of it overwhelming all your senses. You don't notice the sunset or how badly the bark of the tree is splintering your back. "YES, KO, FUCK ME!"

There's sudden, unbearable heat inside you as he abruptly climaxes. You cry out from the searing magic pumping against your cervix, grinding your hips down onto him. Still, too stimulated to care about anything other than him. "yeah, yeah," he almost whimpers, dropping his head to watch himself move in and out, pushing his seed as deep as it can go. "I'm gonna fill you up so much, Lil girl," he pants, "your mine, your gonna be fuckin' mine forever."

As you expected, he's nowhere near done. He pushes your legs up to your torso, deepening the thrust of his cock, bumping your cervix each time. A hand curls around your thigh to rub your lower stomach. "Mmm, Kōtarō," you whine, throwing your head back against the tree, following his eyes as he stares at your union, "I need more, feed my hungry pussy."

"ooh, sweetheart. your belly's gonna get," he pauses to strengthen the force of his cock impaling you, "so," another,"  fuckin'," and another, "BIG." He pushes himself against you, crushing you between his ribcage and the tree, as his teeth nip at your neck. All you can do is hang there in his arms, body not only enduring but reveling in the relentless onslaught of pleasure and pain. He rips an orgasm from you, and you scream out loud as your muscles pulse and dance around his cock, the intense release short-circuiting your brain until all you can say is Kōtarō.' "Good girl," he praises, "that's my good Lil (y/n). Ooh, oh fuck, I'm gonna pump you full of my pups, aah, so everyone knows yer mine. everyone will know who owns this pussy!"

After a few minutes of fucking you like that, he whimpers like a damn dog when he releases again, jet after jet of white creamy cum firing into your womb. There's so much; you can feel the liquid moving around inside you. He thrusts and mumbles incoherent things, grabbing your hips when he notices a few drops start to leak out, repositioning you so gravity assists in his endeavor to keep every bit inside. Exhausted, the hybrid drops to his knees, carefully bringing you along with him. He pants heavily, tongue hanging out, sweat pouring, eyes closed, a strained expression on his face. His cock remains inside, still throbbing, nowhere near satisfied yet. Opening one eye, he looks at you and starts laughing. "What," you ask, trying to catch your breath as you lean back against the tree. He gives you that stupid grin that you've come to love so much and says, "you're beautiful. I can't believe you actually exist and that you wanna be with me."

Your hands find his face, wiping away a trail of sweat. And you kiss him. It's soft, deep, and meaningful. A kiss that confesses all your feelings for him. All your love, desire, need. He whines and kisses back as best he can, moving his head and teeth along with you. It all instills new hunger in him, which you can feel through his cock drumming inside you. Pull away to laugh at him a bit; he's such a mess right now. He plants a sweet kiss on your forehead.

"I'm actually going to get pregnant," you say out loud, needing to hear it to solidify the fact, "I'm… I'm so happy! Thank you, Bo, for—…." You trail off when he growls menacingly, gritting his teeth and getting an aggressive look on his face. "rollover, hands, and knees," he commands, pulling you off him so you can do as he says. The soil is cold and coarse under your knees, but you're so high off his pheromones, orgasms, and seed, you don't even register it. Arch your back, pointing your ass at him invitingly, and he completely loses his shit.

Frothing and snorting like a beast, he mounts you, swollen member sheathing itself in one fluid motion. Arms encircle you to keep you in place, and his teeth sink into the skin of your shoulder, making you scream out in a mix of pain and pleasure. Growling into you, he fucks you like a dog, pistoning his cock in and out, in and out, all the way in, all the way out. You throw your head back against him and let your mouth hang open, tits bouncing with each movement, drool trailing down your chin. Fingers dig at the soil beneath, dirtying your fingernails, filling the groves of your skin. Bokuto laughs when you orgasm hard around his cock, teeth leaving your shoulder to carefully sink into the back of your neck. "sweeeeeetheeeaaart," he coos, "how many pups do you think I can fit in you?" You don't respond with anything other than stilted moans and your hips bucking back against him. Maybe four? fuck, you gonna be so big. so complete with my babies." He chuckles again, so turned on, his own words make him throb and spurt a heavy wave of cum inside you. Bokuto fucks you through his climax, pumping you full of seed, so much, it's, your stomach swells from the internal pressure.

You fall forward, ass still in the air, head resting on the grass as your lover's teeth leave you. He dips between your spread legs, tongue lapping at your pink, abused pussy. You whine and grind your hips back against him, the smell of blood and sex strong. good girl…" he mumbles into you, "lookit how full you are." His hand carefully rubs your distended tummy, and you look down to see it glowing, so much magic inside you that it illuminates through layers of fat and flesh. He rolls you over onto your back and lovingly starts redressing you, pulling your torn panties up, buttoning your pants, working your breasts back into your bra. His tongue cleans the bite wounds, and he feeds you a bite from a candy bar, healing you instantly.

You sit up, grumbling, feeling your stomach rumble from the amount of cum inside. Bokuto gives you that same silly grin, asking, "think ya can be a good Lil (Y/N) and keep all my seed inside you?" "Yes, Kōtarō," you purr, reaching to plant a kiss on his cute face. "You can call me daddy," he chuckles.

Request are open ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏⊹ ♥︎

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! #hq x reader #hq smut #request are open #hq thirst #hq x y/n #haikyuu x y/n #msby bokuto #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto kotaro #bokuto imagine #bokuto smut #bokuto x y/n #hq bokuto #bokuto x reader

[tendous-whore]

Ur naoya fic had me shook tho, I literally had to make a new account to send this request bc my mutuals on my main have no idea I’m into smut fics lmao (Dw tho I’m not a minor, age is in my blog desc.).

If you’re accepting requests…nanami and breeding kink pls. I love how the fandom has like decided that he has one lol, I see him as the type to *seem* vanilla buuuuuut he can actually be rough (everything is consensual tho). But that dom side of him only comes out when he’s sleeping with someone he makes a commitment to. Sorry for rambling. I’m looking forward to whatever you have to share next!!

you are the first person to send me an ask so far (which are ALWAYS open btw) so you have no idea how much I smiled when reading your message 🥺

when i woke up to read some jjk fics today, I was so shocked at how many people liked my naoya x reader!!!? it’s so weird that people enjoy my work, especially since it’s my very 1st explicit fic!

ANWAYS nanami is one of my fav characters, aside from naoya, for reasons other than both of them being goDAMN SNACKs😤 so definitely will dedicate a more in depth story for nanami later on. but! your request gives me the perfect opportunity to share a little bit of my own take on him hehhehhehe

so enjoy!! <3

nanami + breeding

the embodiment of “gentleman in the streets, freak. in. the. sheets.”

with his job, he hardly has the time to indulge in relationships, so he’s pretty lax in the bedroom at first. just goes with the flow, ya know

but the longer you stay, the more comfortable he gets when he realizes you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

but nanami doesn’t rush to pull out the whips and chains, he’s gradual when it comes to sharing his interests with you in the bedroom.

until he isn’t.

so when the two of you are alone, and the doors are locked, the nanami in the day contrasts the man he is at night.

nanami is already dominant in all aspects of your relationship, to some degree. but it doesn’t compare when he has you crumpled, completely submitting beneath him, or bent over his knee after a long day of dealing with your shit

he’s more cutthroat than the first time you two had sex. yea, he has a soft side too but when the mood is right, he knows which to bring out

so when your spread for him, accepting everything he gives, how can he not indulge in all he wanted with his pretty little thing?

the act of pumping you full drives him wild, and at times in need, it keeps him going, until the next time

and on top of that, nanami definitely gets off on the size difference between you and him, and shows

when he purposefully pushes on your stomach, feeling the outline of his bulge, when you fold underneath him without resistance

don’t even get me started on how he loves to take you ugh

when he has you locked in a mating press, unable to move and just take. take. take.

probably likes it even more when he’s done his research, knowing how much more likely you could get get pregnant with his cum when he’s plowing into you

the thought alone is so dangerous. but that’s why he likes it. hehe.

Nanami is diligent with the way he works your body, he’s mesmerized every detail down to the bone like the back of his hand. He knows when he pushes you further into the bed, forcing himself deeper than before, how full he makes you feel. Your body is so honest when he does, how the way your legs tense and shake and your tummy bulges when he thrusts at that one angle.

It is a sight that has him breathing faster, and his tongue dipping out to lick his lips. He’s hungry, a thirsty and dying man before you. Feeling the way your walls squeeze him, coating his lower half in a layer of slick feeds him bit by bit, but the urging desire to already fill you up has his hips stuttering.

But right now, he wants to savor this. Savor the way your body lays beneath him, your mouth slightly ajar, hair tangled between his fingers as you cried with pleasure. You looked so pathetic with the way you choked on air, your hands pressed against his chest as you took everything he threw your way.

That’s why Nanami loved you. It wasn’t easy to submit yourself to someone, but you did, allowing him to give you all that he wanted. You were good for him, so good and so pretty. And prettier when his thrusts would finally come to a stop, when his body would pull away from your battered figure, his face pulled down and his eyes focused and just watch.

Watch the way your ass trembled, your body wracked with an uncontrollable shake as you came down from your high, better than the one before. And he’d groan, the deep guttural hiss audible in the quiet room that smelled of sex when finally, his cum slowly leaked from your twitching whole.

And Nanami smiled, his eyes brighter then before when his fingers pushed it all back into your cunt, carefully gathering every drop and slowly fucking his seed into you again and again. And he’d tell you in that sweet voice of his so quietly.

“what a waste.”

“it’s not enough.”

“one more time.”

as he takes you in bed, promising that the next wave of euphoria will be it for tonight. That your walls will finally taste nothing but of Nanami, his scent etched into your skin. But you know better. Once Nanami has had a taste, he can’t bring himself to stop, not when you’re crying for him, begging for his cock to stuff you full and breed you stupid.

so when you’re nearing you end and Nanami grows sloppy, his thrusts more frantic then before, he palms your stomach. His fingers trace the outline of his cock, dragging in and out at a delicious pace, his hand digging deeper and deeper until your writhing under his grip. It stings, but when his fingers press harder and harder, it forces him to hit that one spot that has your breath stuck in the back of your throat and thighs aching.

“gonna breed this pretty little pussy.” He breathes.

“til’ it’s full and heavy.”

He’s rational, logical and very decisive. But when he is high off of the adrenaline and pleasure that’s pumping through his veins, Nanami silently hopes that his cum will bleed into your womb, that your pill won’t repel his seed. That somehow, by some miracle, you miss your period.

And if you don’t?

Then the next time, he’ll look forward to doing it all over again.

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