A/N: I'm writing this bcs I was getting baby fever and then I got cuteness aggression from thinking about Changbin as a father sooo here we are now hehe yippee I hope you like it pls enjoy :)
🩷 Reacting to the news 🩷
- Eyes wide and blinking excessively in disbelief with a weak “What?”
- You confirm the news and a smile is creeping up so he does his upside down smile trying to control it
- “I’m gonna be a… I’M GONNA BE A DAD?! FOR REAL?! ME?! HAHAHA!” he’s SO excited 😭
- He was sitting on the bed with you but he gets up and does a little happy dance because he’s ecstatic, but then he sits back down and gives you a hug
- “Thank you so much. I love you so much. This is so important to me.” he just wants to hold you and love on you, he didn’t know when he’d become a dad or even if he’d become one but he was always interested in the concept
- He pulls back away from you and looks at your stomach that is only soft from the satisfying brunch date from earlier in the day
- “I promise to stick to my principles and be genuine to you. I will love you and teach you how to be a good person. Because you are our baby.” he gets quiet… saying ‘our baby’ got to him, his eyes start to fill with tears
- You give him a hug and let him know that everything is going to be okay and that you’ll get through this together, he hugs you again and says “Yes. We will. I promise.”
- He kisses your cheek and side hugs you while holding a hand against your lower belly, he’ll start to call those ‘family hugs’
⭐️ 5 weeks ⭐️
- You’ve already started going to doctor appointments, coming home to flowers and your favorite snacks that he prepared beforehand, turning on your favorite television show to help you relax and ease your mind
- You held his hand as you two spoke to the managers and leaders at JYPE about what’s going to happen in the near future, things regarding his schedules and contracts and discretion
- The members were so excited to find out and were immediately supportive, calling you two after the meeting to see how things went
- “Everything will work out, you two. Don’t worry about anything.” says Skz's amazing leader Bang Chan, and it does make the two of you, especially Changbin, feel better, he tells his hyung thank you for the comforting words
🐽 8 weeks 🐽
- The past three weeks have been a little… textured, you’re starting to feel the emotions everyone warns about with pregnancy which aren’t terrible but you are a more emotional person, Changbin understands this and makes an effort to sit and listen to you as much as he can
- He tells you to text him while he’s at the studio or dance practice and he’ll call you when he has a long enough break to speak with you
- Physically, there’s a small difference in your body that he notices easily since you’ve been together for some years now
- He gives you lots of body massages when you’re tired and researches healthy recipes that you’ll need to start eating, most of the time he just calls his mother and asks her what you may need which leads to her coming over to bring you some lunch or bring you back to her house (if he's working), you’ve been close with his family forever and marriage only made that bond stronger, their house is basically like a second home already
- Both of you had a wonderful time at your ultrasound appointment, he quickly went from chatting it up with you to quietly staring at the screen where the doctor pointed to your baby, he couldn’t believe it despite staring right at the images, that’s your guys' baby!
- This pregnancy was really sinking in for him, well, every day, but it was especially sinking in at this very moment, when the doctor left the room to let you get ready to go home, Changbin gave you a passionate kiss and restated his promise to you that you two would get through this together
- Together you showed the printed copies of the ultrasound images to his family and yours, when you showed the members they were excited and almost couldn’t look away, it was definitely setting in for them as well
🐰 12 weeks 🐰
- Pregnancy is hitting you like a truck, sure life is beautiful or whatever but you're really only good at making things look good when you're in front of others
- Changbin's mom noticed you were trying to hold back how you were really feeling and she tells you to be honest and let it out, you both end up crying, just a little emotional, but she tells you that everything is okay, that you're okay, that they love you, and that Bin loves you, too
- She tells you to take a nap while she makes some lunch that will be healthy but also serve as some nice comfort food to help you feel better
- When you wake up, you can indulge not only in how the smell of the food isn't nauseating, Changbin's there, he was able to leave the studio early and wanted to come see his special lady and his special baby (and his mom of course)
- Unfortunately, you sometimes get sick at home when he's wearing too much of his colognes, you tell him you'll power through it but he insists that he'll either spray them outside of the entire apartment or he'll hold off on wearing them for a while, you're appreciative but it makes you feel a little bit like a bully, you're grateful for him being so understanding
- When the two of you go shopping, he just HAS to go to the baby section and look at all the tiny clothes, did he almost lose his mind when he saw a pink hoodie onesie with a bunny on the front? yes, yes he did, he's trying to be patient but it's hard, you're practically forced to drag him out of the store and rub his back to comfort him, you want to enjoy these next few months while you're still a just duo
🌸🌸🌸 ~ End of Part 1 ~ 🌸🌸🌸
A/N: Was this good? I went by a whole week by week guide from the national health organization to give me some idea of what I was writing here, I hope this seems accurate and is somewhat if not definitely enjoyable bcs I definitely enjoyed writing! part 2 will come out.. at some point, hopefully not too long from now, especiall if this does well! anyways thanks for reading, have a great day!!
Edit: If you’d like to be tagged in the next part, drop your @ in the comments and I’ll start a taglist!!!!
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Warnings: obsession, gaslighting, psychological trauma, Stockholm syndrome, thought reform, NPD, pregnancy illness and trauma, drugging
A/N: This is not a story for everyone. Please mind the warnings and stay away from the things that may trigger you. If you or a loved one have been experiencing situations like this, please find help. This is not normal or safe behavior. This is fiction.
Why is it that in moments of panic and distress… time moves so much slower? Why is it that when you’re making a decision that could save your life, it hurts so bad? Why does this even have to happen? This home was so happy at first. It flipped so quickly, Ivy barely had time to recognize what was happening. One minute, she was engaged to be married to the number two hero of Japan. The next, she couldn’t even stand beside him without trembling.
No matter what trials he put her through, he was obsessed with maintaining their social reputation. If Japan could just see that what happened to Rei wasn’t his fault… They’d trust him to keep them all safe again. Instead of the streets being filled with disgusted looks and harsh words. People turning their noses up to him and murmuring to their friends, saying: “Oh so he can keep US safe, but what about that wife of his? Or ex wife as I should say.” among other insults, some unnecessary but whatever.
It drove him into a dark place. Ivy fell with him. Getting promoted from an intern to his girlfriend. As soon as those views went up, there was the ring. Such a beautiful stone for an ugly reason. This is where the fairytale started to become more Grimm. The gaslighting was the first wave. “Enji, is it okay if we don’t go out today? I’m a little tired.” She sighed and relaxed deeper into the couch. Earlier, she’d cleaned the entire kitchen. Her attempt at working fast to get done in time for their dinner date only made her more tired.
“You’re fine. You’ll get a second wind in the car. Come on.” He brushed past her without stopping, walking towards the front door. Ivy just shrugged and grabbed a small sweater before leaving. The dress she was wearing had thin straps and exposed her arms and such. So the sweater was just in case it was cold during their date. It was a good prediction. That day, the restaurant had turned their thermostat down a bit, luckily, Ivy was already prepared with her sweater. Out of nowhere a man with a camera came in asking to take pictures of the couple for a tabloid. “Take it off.” Enji demanded. “My sweater? But I’m cold.” The look he gave her was a way of saying ‘Now.’ without really saying it. It was one she’d only seen him really use with the kids. “Y-Yes, sir.” The man noticed what was going on but felt it was better to just do his job and leave.
After he left, it was quiet. Ivy just stared down at the plate in front of her. Her appetite left with that look Enji gave her. It was stuck on her mind. The more she thought about it, the more her throat began to hurt. Tears filled her eyes even though she tried to hold it in. Enji didn’t notice until a big sparkly tear dropped from her face and made a tiny puddle on the table. “Ivy? What’s wrong?” At first, she just shook her head. She was so tense and focused that the small clank from him setting his fork down caused her to flinch. “Ivy. Tell me what’s wrong. Now…. please.” His ‘please’ was more gentle than the rest of his words, so she decided to at least try to look at him.
The words were definitely there but getting them out through the cries she was choking back was a hassle. It took some time, but eventually, they could come out as well as she could speak them. “W-Why did you do that? When the man wanted to take a picture of us? I didn’t want to take off my sweater but you gave me that… look. …Why?” A handsome eyebrow raised. “I wanted you to look nice. That sweater isn’t very flattering the way your dress underneath is.” Ivy just sniffled and wiped some of her tears away. “Okay. But I said no. I didn’t want to. Yet, you gave me that look, like if I didn’t take it off, you would do something about it. You can’t do that.” His hand had been lying flat on the table, but now it had curled up into a fist.
“I’m sorry you feel upset by my actions. I just wanted you to look as beautiful as I see you.” He gave her a small smile. She didn’t return it. “That’s fine and I appreciate you looking out for me but you’re supposed to listen to me and respect my decisions. Not look at me like that. I know I’m short but I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman. Please don’t ever do that aga-” Ivy jumped at Enji slamming his fist down on the table, the dishes clattering. A few of the other customers glanced over at them before returning to mind their business. Terrifying blue eyes never left Ivy’s during the entire moment, but his hand did soften and hold hers. He squeezed her hand gently and lifted it to his lips to kiss her knuckles before redirecting his attention back to his dinner. Ivy decided to do the same.
A few minutes later he spoke again. His tone was soft and gentle. “Are you ready to go, my love? It has gotten a bit chilly in here. You’ve been shivering for a while now.” Yes, it was cool in the room. However, she wasn’t shivering. She was still trembling from that look he had given her. There was no verbal response. Just a nod of her head. “Alright. We can go now and get you home so you can warm up.” They paid and left.
He was a gentleman; both held the car door open and closed it for her. When he got in on the other side, he immediately rolled up the window between them and their driver. Anxiety immediately climbed up Ivy’s chest. As soon as she thought of sliding away from him, he grabbed her face and pulled her close. “How DARE you embarrass me that way?! Do you even care about how I look in public?!” Ivy closed her eyes and began to sob quietly. “Oh, please, enough with those damned crocodile tears! You’re such a selfish little bitch. All you care about is how you feel. What about me?! I’m the one that loves you. Don’t I matter?” Guilt-tripping. Something so painful and compelling.
Even with how tight he was holding her face, she tried to apologize. “I-I’M SO SORRY! I’M SORRY. I’M SORRY. I’M SORRY. I-I SHOULD’VE TAKEN IT OFF THE FIRST TIME YOU SAID TO! I’m sorry, Enji, please, y-you’re hurting me…” The intense look in his eyes slowly faded and he smiled. “You’re such a beautiful crier, honey. So pretty.” His grip softened and he kissed her forehead. “My sweet, pretty girl~” He patted his shoulder for her to lean against for the rest of the ride and that was it. For the rest of the day, he was pleasant, for the most part. Other than holding on to her at bedtime, pulling her close every time she tried to move away.
A few days later, Enji decorated their room with love in mind. A rose petal path into their bedroom and circling the perimeter of the bed. Adorable little tealight candles making a heart around a flat black box on the floor tied up in a little pink bow. “I’m excited for you to open it. I hope you like it.” Ivy kneeled down and opened the box, lifting the present up. Inside was a beautiful, white babydoll dress, made of a very nice silk. Matching panties to go with it. “Oh, Enji! I love it so much! Thank you!” They hugged and shared a kiss. “You can try it on now, if you’d like. I’d love to see you in it~” Giggling, Ivy ran to the bathroom to get undressed and put on her new gift.
She returned minutes later. Enji was so taken aback by the view that had he not been sitting on their bed he just might have fallen backward. “Wow~” It fits so perfectly on her. The way it flowed with her graceful walk and how it made her breasts look soft and precious, it made his heart, as well as other things, joyful. “Whaddya, think? Does it look alright? Do I look nice?” He grinned and pulled her into his lap. “You look like an angel. My sweet, pure, innocent angel~” It’s true. She did look like an angel. But their actions after that weren’t so innocent.
Weeks after, Ivy seemed to be going through periods of nausea in the early mornings. She even felt weaker some days. One afternoon, Ivy collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. Not only was she diagnosed with Iron Deficiency Anemia, but it was discovered she was three months pregnant. Neither of them had stopped to actually notice anything. Enji was busy with work and Ivy was busy with taking care of the kids. For Ivy’s well being, they had to hire a nurse to be home with her and a nanny.
Though Ivy was suffering, Enji was thriving. The paparazzi painted the town in snapshots of a “distressed” number one hero out buying medication and flowers for his “dear wife”. At least he was somewhat taking care of her instead of just making her live with it alone. Poor Shoto tried to spend every minute with her. Seeing her unable to get up and play with him was upsetting but he put on a smile for her. He’d sit and talk to the nurse while Ivy napped and then asked Ivy about the baby, often making amazing comparisons as to how big her belly was getting.
“It’s almost bigger than me!” Shoto exclaimed. Ivy giggled and rubbed her belly. “I don’t know if she’s that big yet! But she will be someday. Will you be an awesome big brother and teach her cool things?” Shoto nodded with excitement and a grin on his face. “I promise I’ll be her favorite big brother, mom. And I’ll make it easy so you can play with us again.” Shoto’s words made her happy and sad at the same time. Such a sweet boy with a big heart. If he chooses the path to be a hero, he’ll be a great one. “Come along, son. Let your mother rest.” Enji’s voice broke the sweet peace between them. Shoto frowned and gently hugged her. She kissed the top of his head, then watching him crawl off the bed and walk away, she blew him another kiss.
“I’m sorry if I was interrupting something. I just want to make sure you get better. Our daughter will be here soon and lots of people will want to be able to see her.” Enji smiled at her, holding a bouquet out to his wife. “I know she’ll be beautiful like you.” Ivy couldn’t help but roll her eyes at how inconsiderate he sounded. “I don’t want her all over the news. Just because you’ve been sweeping the town on the front of magazines and on celebrity newsfeeds, DOESN’T MEAN SHE NEEDS TO BE!” Ivy scolded. The smile didn’t leave Enji’s face. He just cleared his throat. “Nurse, can we have a moment alone, please?” The nurse looked from Enji to Ivy with a worried look on her face then grabbed her jacket and walked out of the room. He shut the door behind her, locking it.
“Y’know…” Now the smile was gone. It was more of an emotionless frown. Still, Ivy stood her ground. Figuratively. “My favorite thing about having a daughter with you… is knowing that she’s not just yours. She’s also mine. And if I wanna show her off to the world….” He took a few steps over to Ivy and sat on the side of the bed. “THEN I’LL DO AS I DAMN WELL PLEASE! UNDERSTAND, IVY?!” Enji’s voice boomed and echoed in the room. He was in Ivy’s face, with barely any room between them. His face and hair had combusted, making it a warm torture by making her sweat.
Ivy quietly started to whimper, tears filling her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. “O-O-Okay…. okay.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes, looking away from his. The flames disappeared and so did his temper. He stood and kissed the top of her head. “Feel better, my love. Both of you.” And like that, he was gone. Everything was to fall back into place like normal. The nurse came back in, glancing at Ivy. “Are you alright, Mrs. Todoroki?” Ivy smiled softly and nodded. “Yes. Thank you.” Deep down, her heart was breaking. What kind of love was this? She needed to get out, but this damn baby was keeping her down. She’s too exhausted now. It’ll have to wait.
Time passed. The pregnancy was complicated, the delivery traumatic since they’d almost lost Ivy and the baby. They were fortunate to survive. Of course, Enji used the event to market how “scared” and “upset” he was which, according to everyone else, makes him a great father. He had citizens all around the country in the palm of his hand. Well-wishers and baby gifts were plentiful. When asked about how Ivy was doing, the answer was always “She’s resting but she says thank you for all the positivity.” and handled it for her. It took Ivy a while to heal but she made quality progress, as well as their new daughter.
That was four weeks ago. Now. Ivy found herself frantically folding and packing items into a suitcase. Enji was out on a mission and all the children were sleeping soundly. It was now or never. The house was so dark, it was so hard to see. “Alright. I got my bag. I got my purse. I g- wait…. where’s the diaper bag? Shit, I left it in her room.” As soon as she turned around, the world stopped moving. A giant silhouette loomed over her, holding something wrapped in a blanket.
“Hi, Ivy.” There was the voice, deep like the Mariana Trench, Ivy had been conditioned to fear. Dull and painfully blunt, stabbing her heart with fear. “E-Enji…. I’m-” “Where are you going?” He sounded genuinely confused and interested. “I-I-I was going… I-….” Her throat hurt. Trying not to cry, to not be scared was such a challenge. “I’m leaving. I-I’m leaving you. I can’t TAKE it anymore, Enji. I n-need to go.” She looked up at what she assumed was his face. It was too dark to tell. “Oh…” He sounded numb. Like he wasn’t phased by what she had just said. “Yeah. So… excuse me. I-I need to get my daughter. I’m taking her with me…. and we’re not coming back. I’m sorry.”
Instead of another numb response, he laughed quietly. “No. Don’t say sorry to me. Say sorry to her.” In his arms, their baby girl slept soundly. A little angel in a nice, relaxing sleep within her daddy’s arms. Ivy felt sick to her stomach. She felt like she could scream. “E-Enji…. please give her to me. P-Please.” Ivy carefully demanded, reaching out for her daughter. He wouldn’t budge. “You’re gonna leave me? You’re gonna leave her. And Touya. And Natsuo. And Fuyumi. And Shoto. You’re gonna leave us all. So that you become the villain. And I’m the hero father who’s raising five children on his own.” Ivy shook her head, feeling defeated. “Enji, ple-”
“Or… you can stay. Because I love you so much. So so so so so so sooooo… much. And you love me.” He looked down at his sweet baby girl, gently swaying. “And we’re a happy family. Right, Ivy? Just put your bags away, and I’ll put her back in her crib for the night. And we’ll go to bed. And when we wake up tomorrow, this...never...happened.” Ivy was trembling. She was filled with desperate sadness, humiliating defeat, and seething rage. Her gaze shifted from Enji and the baby to the bags, to the door, and she sighed. Mission failed. She couldn’t bring herself to leave.
“You win… I’ll stay.”
“Good choice,” Enji whispered. When Ivy turned to pick up the bags, a sharp stabbing pain hit the side of her neck. She pulled out the cause of her pain and stared at it with wide terrified eyes. It was a syringe. The only thing left in it was the drops of whatever had just been pumped into her bloodstream. She turned and looked for Enji who had become a blurred image walking away from her. “EN-…. Enj-…. No….. no….” The syringe fell out of her hand and Ivy soon fell after. Her eyelids became heavy and seconds later, she was asleep.
Enji returned, looking down at her. “I just need you to sleep through the night so you won’t try to leave while I’m asleep. I did this because I love you. Now, let’s get you to bed.” He smiled and carefully lifted her off the hardwood floor. Enji carried her to their bedroom and was gentle when laying her down. “Look at you…. how couldn’t I have an obsession with you?” He got in on his side of the bed and kissed her cheek before falling asleep himself, cuddling her. “Goodnight, Ivy.”
The next morning, Ivy woke up with a terrible headache. The bright morning sun shining in through the curtains made her head hurt worse before her eyes began to adjust. “Hm?” She looked down and saw their daughter latched to her. “How did...” Curled up right next to them was Enji, sleeping calmly and quietly. It made her smile. He’s always been so good to her. Always there for her.
She couldn’t remember a time when he ever did her wrong.
♡ TW: noncon, gangbang, pillory, elf-reader, orc assailants, war between orcs and elves, racism between orcs and elves, captive reader, poor confinement conditions, starvation, piss drinking, cumflation, mindbreak, Stockholm syndrome
♡ FEM reader
The orc camp smells of blood and sweat and other obscenities you and your snooty elven nose fear naming.
They’ve stripped you and your fellow troops of all weaponry and armor—ugly bastards even took your boots! Leaving you in only silken undergarments, standing barefoot in the cold, wet mud.
It’s to make it harder to run away if you were to escape, you suspect. You can’t decide if it’s a clever tactic or simply a cruel one. Either way, it’s the least of your worries... You haven't been fed or given water since yesterday when you were all captured—paired with having been made to march for half the day barefoot, all tied up by your wrists, one behind the other, toed along like animals with mean tugs that had more than one of you falling face first in the mud—who knows how many of you will be able to continue walking when they decide it’s time to start moving again—much less run away if and when the opportunity presents itself—leaving you hopeless if someone doesn’t do something soon.
And it turns out that someone is you.
“Hey!” you yell. Bruised hands gripping the splintered wooden bars of your crudely built prison, glaring at the two brutes standing watch.
They acknowledge your shout, but neither of them gives any reason for you to believe they understood you were talking to them. Looking at you, then at each other.
“Yes, you two, guards!” you make clear.
They continue to look at you, yet don’t make a move.
You sigh exasperatingly—yet with how tired you are, it’s more a full-chested groan unbecoming of a fine elven knight, but under the circumstances, you couldn’t much care.
“I know ungodly monstrosities such as yourselves don’t require much to sustain your foul existence, but elves need food—at the very least water!”
A fellow elf grabs your shoulder gently, saying something under his breath, perhaps in an effort to make you quiet, but you nudge it off and continue your rant in spite of it.
“If you plan to keep us alive—as I would think, given your decision to cage us—I would advise you to meet us with the bare necessities!”
Both guards look away toward another orc—one sitting on a thick log at the mouth of one of the nicer, warmer-looking tents they’d pitched—perhaps the biggest one—sharpening his blade with a rock.
He doesn’t look up from his handiwork but speaks, “The elf is hungry?”
You scowl at the question. “Yes, you oaf—the elf is, in fact, hungry.”
He lifts his blade and looks it over—one side, then the other—before sinking it deep down into the mud. Tossing the rock away, he stands and whistles sharply, prompting the two guards to wander off as if to get something. Meanwhile, what seems to be the commander starts walking towards the prison.
Regret starts to fester as he approaches, and you’re reminded once again why the inferior race best you in battle time and time again despite your obvious intellectual difference. Three cabbage heads taller than you, his weight must be about four or five, maybe even six, times yours—built like a grizzly bear—plus his armor, which easily adds another.
He unlocks the prison, and you step back on instinct.
“Come. You will be fed,” he says, opening the gate wide.
You look behind you—all the other elves have scurried back into the far end of the cage, leaving you alone in your endeavor, which only feels foolish now that you’re sure he’s going to use those blood-dirty hands of his to squish your head clean off your shoulders as soon as you step out.
Even still, maybe by the adrenaline of imminent death or the lightheadedness of starvation, you dare ask, though a little cautiously now, “What’s on the menu?”
The orc snorts—perhaps at your pickiness—finding your resolve to uphold your standards funny, given you weren't in much of a situation to make demands. You could scoff, too—of course, you can't expect an orc to understand anything about standards.
He smirks, answering, “Something to keep warm."
Or perhaps he was laughing for an entirely different matter...
The guards return carrying something. You spot them behind him, trudging loudly in the slop before halting—mounting something close to the firepit.
By the time you understand what it is, it’s already too late. Your hair’s grabbed—as well as your entire skull—taken in one meaty hand, pulled out of the safety of the cage, and shoved harshly down into the wet dirt.
He locks up the gate again as you lie there. And you take your chance to try and run, crawling forward—fighting through the clay, dragging you down. Scrambling for balance, you’ve barely even made it up on your feet once he grabs you again—this time leading you towards the other two standing in wait along the torture device they’ve set up just for you.
You’re lifted to stand atop a crate, making you the right height, then bent over—with your wrist led into each their position as well as your throat, shoved down as the lunette comes down and successfully locks you in place—perfectly trapped in the pillory with no means of escape.
You pull and struggle, toiling against the wooden plates—too late for any such silly thing as regret you can only whimper in short, panicked screams and cries—but it’s no use. The hand comes back and grabs your hair, yanking it tightly, making your neck crane as he forces you to look up despite the fixed position.
He smiles down at the look on your face—watching your tears make clear streaks through the mud, lips wobbly as you begin to beg, “Please—I’m sorry, I’ll—”
“Oh, don’t worry, little elf,” he cuts you off with a coo, grabbing your jaw in his other hand. “You’ll be fed, just like promised.”
Something behind you rips your silk cloth away, baring you. You stiffen all over, breath hitching as useless fists whiten in their restraints. You want to kick, to thrash—but poor balance only results in you choking yourself—and so you’re left to stand there, helpless—bowed and nude before three orcs you’ve angered with your reckless entitlement.
“Mh, pretty elf holes…” one of the guards behind murmurs, cupping your asscheeks and spreading them to take a look, filtering grubby fingers through the crack and lips, rubbing over both holes.
You shake, trying to thwart their efforts. But a gritty pad roughs over your clit and finds purchase below it.
“Stop, stop! Don’t!” you wail, but it pries you apart anyway—wriggling inside your cunt in a brutish shove, it sheathes itself deeply in curiosity to see how much you could fit, eagerly pumping it inside knuckle-deep before pulling back out—then repeating the motion—promptly finger-fucking the tight opening with a digit the size of an average elf’s manhood.
You sob, heaving for breath. Shaking your head in shame as you start to slicken—if just to make it a little more bearable, but the wet noise of it only serves to make you wish they’d killed you instead.
“Shh, elf. Don't cry.” The commander orc in front of you keeps his hold on your hair, talking down to you as he admires your despair. “We’ll give you what you beg for…” He strokes your cheek harshly with the other hand, smearing your tears before moving on to his armored belt.
You whimper as it drops, revealing what must be your newest and truest worst nightmare.
“A warm meal in all your hungry holes.”
The two guards take turns behind you. You can’t see them, but they’ve made themselves more than known—having stretched out both your openings to accommodate their overgrown size.
They seem to like it when you cum—keeping their fat fingers on your clit and always fondling your tits, rubbing your nipples as they fuck your womb deeply until you wet them with your fluids. Your knees gave in a little while ago—their groping now the only thing keeping you upright, and the steady pounding the only thing keeping you awake.
Meanwhile, the commander has his fun with your face. Making you cuddle his heavy ballsack, dousing your face in the rank. With a dagger threatening your pretty eye, he'd coaxed your tongue out to play sooner than you’re proud of—now pliantly hanging from your mouth, licking every foul-tasting patch of his toad-like skin—feeling worse than a beggar eating scraps.
But you ought to thank him. Earlier, he’d tried forcing his length down your throat—making your jaw all but unlock to make room. His cockhead is the size of your fist—in the end, you could only suck on it, only able to satisfy him and his harsh scalp-ripping grip on your hair by prodding his dickhole with your tongue. He started petting you when you did that, making you feel all the more defeated.
His mercy tastes worse than the rancid white you’d been made to swallow. You’d wanted to bite, but the dagger he’d earlier stabbed into the wooden plate for safe-keeping keeps you sweet as you lick and suck the prominent veins running up his fat size—face glazed in sweat and spit, both his and yours.
“Poor elf-bitch…” he jeers while twirling a lock of your fine hair around his crooked finger. “Fed twig all your pretty life—of course, you’re hungry.”
He chuckles, voice hoarse and muted—almost soft, were it not for its gritty timbre. Keeping his cock resting heavy against your face, covering your eye while rubbing the base against your pouty lips.
“A mouthy whore like you needs real cock. Only happy when you’re pounded like meat.” He hums, “In your natural state, pleasing those bigger and stronger than you as a good pet should.”
He laughs louder, rumbles with it enough to shake the ground, then breaks away from you.
“Leave her cunt to me,” he says, folding his arms upon his chest, leaving his heavy cock to swing between muscle-ripped thighs as he leers at the scene. “Prissy elf pussy’s mine to breed.”
One of the guards soon takes up the vacant spot in front of you, putting his leaky tip to your lips in a sloppy kiss before pressing through to fight your throat for space—putting you in an air-tight spitroast—with your ass already being forced to play host for the other intruder, getting your drenched and swollen pussy slapped by a pair of weighty balls on each of his breath-robbing thrusts into your guts.
“A'right, boys,” the commander announces, “Let's stuff her ‘til she’s big and round. 'See if she's still hungry then.”
They both groan and dig in as far as your body allows, bordering on its limits, making you stretch to take them deeper before planting their seed—coming in fast ropes at first, then thicker waves, and finally smaller spurts aided by the shunting of their hips as they rut against you—feeding it to you without rush, one dose after the other, until their balls were all good and empty.
Then they sigh, breathing heavily, waiting for their seed to be settled and swallowed in your bowels before slowly sliding their spent cocks out—letting the overdose spill from your holes as you take a weakened breath and quake in the aftershocks, left hanging in the stand with a body full of orc cum and something else, something that's made your mind feel all funny and flirty.
Then, stomach heavy and warm, hanging with more weight than your breasts—tender and oddly tingly all over—you croon, like a cow, when the commander lifts your hips and eases inside your cunt only a short moment after—starting to pound you softly but deep enough to make your head hang and tongue drip with drool, moaning like an animal in its heat, all silly, like a mating-call, waiting for your womb to be fed with the same warmth.
He cups your buttcheeks with both his thumbs hooked within your ass, and still, he feels you tremble and cum without your clitty being touched—milking him for his spend, begging him with your tongue out in sweet mews. "Bleath, bleath, mathder~"
And although he can't see it from his position, it still makes him smile. “That’s right, dumb little elf-pet. Beg, and you will be fed.”
You clench up and throttle when he finally blows, and the warmth swarms your gushy insides in heavenly goo—leaving you feeling cozy from the inside out—cross-eyed and panting in utter ecstasy.
He also waits—waits until his cum takes root and his cock unswells for a good minute or two before pulling out with a throaty sigh. Then he rounds the pillory, a heavy step at a time, until his lousy and still steaming cock is met face to face with your sweaty flush-cheeked expression.
“Still hungry, elf-girl?” he asks, jostling the sloppy member against your equally drowsy face. “Or was it thirsty?”
He picks your chin up with a hand, holding it steady while watching your half-mast and glazed heart-eyes lazily blink up at him—grinning and humming at the sight.
“Tell me, elf-pet, which of it was it you were whining about?”
Drool spills from your mouth as you answer, speech slurred like a drunken degenerate, “Both~”
He clicks his tongue, “Spoiled.” But he doesn’t seem angry—no, rather pleased. “You’ve been well-fed for now—time to wash it down.”
He lifts his heavy slug and puts the numb tip to your lips, which eagerly parts wide for him to press inside softly, filling the drizzly cavern, cockhead resting neatly on the wet bed of your tongue.
You obediently await it with your eyes locked onto his—both moaning once it comes. Hot and salty-sweet, it pours onto your tongue and sloshes down your throat, spilling from your mouth and somehow splashing all over your face—making you shudder in warm bliss as you gulp it down as if it’s in another class from the aged wine back home.
“Drink, elf-slave. Drink and be grateful,” he instructs, and you obey, allowing the piss-stream to hit the back of your throat where you could glug it all down with minimal spill.
When it stopped, you sucked his tip and tongued the slit like before, cleaning it dry of the last drop, saying, “Thank you—thank you, master.”
Elves never cease to surprise him. Always so prissy—high and mighty creatures—and yet they fall the farthest from grace when pushed.
He had many different ideas on how to make an example of you to the others—cease any ideas they might have of uproar and rebellion. Leave you here for the ogres and trolls to come and have their sloppy seconds. Tie you up by your ankles and drag you behind the horses through all the muck. Let the rest of his troops have at you until you met with your unfortunate end.
But no. He thinks not.
“Let’s move—” he announces to the camp. “Time to take our bounty home.”
After all, for all your whining, you did have a point earlier—you elves are only good to them alive and well. Best get you to the nearest market and sell you.
The guards unfix you from the pillory and start hauling your collapsed form back to the cage.
“No, not her,” he corrects them, thinking of your pretty eyes and soft tongue and that pretty elf cunt that milked him dry like none other. “She rides with me.”
On bearback, he ties your hands around his neck and lets you sleep with your head on his chest, riding backward with your legs draped over his—still naked with your cum-belly leaking out over his saddle—making a mess he’ll have you lick clean later.
“Tell me if you get hungry again, little elf,” he sneers, though a little fondly. “I’ll feed you again.”
And you, despite groggy, with eyes closed, mumble back dumbly, “Thank you, master.”
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TW: nsfw, noncon, yandere, captive reader, mind deterioration
fem reader
All For One has a habit of subjugating you for his own pleasure.
It’s a game he likes to play—quite like chess, only… you start off with a single pawn, and you don’t know any of the rules. And he’s been world champion ten years in a row. And he plays dirty.
Tonight, he’s dressed you up in a costume. Not any old Halloween costume, but a slutty one. Not a playboy bunny or a maid, nor a schoolgirl—this was worse—a sleazy rendition of your old hero uniform.
You’d barely recognized the faintly familiar design when he first laid it out on the bed for you. Silly and naïve, you thought his games of derision would end when you finally offered your submission, but that was a fool’s thought. What fun were you if not proof of his undying victory—a reminder, a trophy, a relic?
It’s beyond degrading. Tight and revealing. Less than an actual costume, it was more something one would wear in the bedroom, cosplaying for some fantasy starring an overly sexualized you. Only God knows where he’d gotten it from.
Your steel armor, once with the dignity of a knight, had instead been swapped out for a silly silver bikini—the shimmery fabric tacky and cheap, allowing your nipples to peak forth. Covering it was a top and a skirt made up of silver chains, which only further mocked the appearance of chainmail—looking more like the jewelry a stripper might wear.
He’d forgone your helmet, boots, and sword entirely. Truly, if it weren’t for the detailing of the pattern making the fabric vaguely resemble plated armor, it wouldn’t have been much different from any other set of lingerie.
And still, it’s just similar enough to make it sting.
“Look at you...” he jeers, his voice sodden with taunt—carmine stare faded and gleeful, thoroughly enjoying it. “What a sight for sore eyes.”
He stands behind you in the mirror, holding you delicately by the hips, intimately close, dressed in another one of his black suits, fully clothed in devastating contrast to you. His smile curls as he roams your ill-covered body, kissed with the flush of chagrin, leering at you in the reflection—his voice slithering right by your ear.
“Though I can’t say I remember it being quite so revealing, can you?” he jokes, running his hands up and down your waist, fiddling some with the intricacies—metal daintily clinking and clangoring. “No, there’s something else that’s different...”
You feel so humiliated, so small—as if he could hold you up by the scruff of your neck with ease. It isn’t just a feeling—you’re well aware that he most likely could.
“Why yes, of course…” he hums with delayed realization—you know he’s faking for anticipation, chittering while wrapping his thick arms around your tiny midsection, giving you a firm squeeze. “You’ve lost all muscle.”
It’s a painful truth. You don’t know how many months it’s been. Perhaps a year has passed already, maybe even more. He keeps you well aware of his triumph in the outside world, but time still eludes you.
You’d tried maintaining it in the beginning, even after he’d taken your quirk. You’d been vigilant, keeping up your workout regimens just as religiously as before. But you couldn’t pick what you ate, nor when—and he’d only feed you cake. It wasn’t long before all your hard-earned muscles had melted away like popsicle syrup off the stick, licked and lapped right up by the man holding you.
“Mmh, yes…” he murmurs gratingly while swaying you back against him, lips pressing against your ear. “And it’s left you oh-so-soft.”
His bulbous crotch slots against your upper ass, resting there as it grows fatter and warm—a sign of his enjoyment. The weight of him makes you feel all but paper-thin.
His voice rasps now. “If I were to give you your quirk back, I wager you wouldn’t even be able to use it anymore—it would sooner rip your poor limbs apart.”
It’s beyond cruel to suggest—as if disgracing your old costume wasn’t enough torment already. You bite your lip, gnaw it harshly—don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t let him see you cry.
“Isn’t that just fascinating?” He gives your earlobe a gentle bite, and the whimper in your throat springs free like prey out of hiding.
A sniffle shortly followed—along the dribble of the night’s very first tears. Your diminished spirit has made you all too prone to cry as if there’s nothing else for you to do but indulge in the small comfort it gives.
“Oh, sweetie—don’t weep over prowess long since lost. It was never enough to challenge me anyway,” he coos, as if consoling you—swaying your smaller brittle body back against his looming chest, a cage that seemed to swallow you whole.
Steering your jaw, he holds your face still before the mirror, unable to look away as the tears dribble down your sorry cheeks—he smears them further with a kiss.
“The world would chew you up as you are now, fragile like glass.” The grin curling his lips makes you resemble prey caught on a predator’s teeth—you can’t help but shiver at the sight of it. You wish he wouldn’t toy with you like food and just kill you already. “Mark my words, hero—the belly of the beast would not grant you as much comfort as I do.”
His other hand slips down to cup your mound—firmly, with a squeeze that has you curl yourself back against him as he presses two tough fingerpads into your clothed clit, rubbing it tightly enough to make your thighs shake.
“You’re better off like this,” he grunts, snickers at how your weak hands clutch the sleeve of his suit, curling the fabric in your palms until your knuckles whiten—watching the furrow further crease between your cinched brows as you try and bite back your pathetic little sounds even as more tears come tumbling down your swollen cheeks. “Mh, my pretty plaything.”
He makes you continue to look at yourself as he simply slides the panty to the side of your cunt. Encouraging you to place your hands flat against the mirror as he bends you forward, then to step back and stand atop his dress shoes.
“Don’t be shy now,” he makes sure to tell you. “You’re as light and negligible as a feather.”
He parts his feet and yours along with them, spreading your thighs enough to accommodate the fat heat he soon slides between them. Rigid and veiny, it competes with the size of your forearm—so thick that when he slaps it up against your slit, your knees buckle from the impact.
His chuckles rumble across your body like an earthquake. You only realize how much it makes you shake when he encloses your hip in his big hand, steadying you. Holding you still as he drags his engorged cockhead through your lips, catching your clit before resting on your entrance.
You’re so sore from prior nights—countless hours locked in this room with his visits the only thing keeping you company—everything has yet to forgive you for the wreckage those visits leave behind. Your sorry little puss rues and dreads another defeat now as he sinks inside the comfort of your battered walls, one unyielding inch at a time.
You wince and tense, shoulders bracing, and yet he pushes deeper, sliding you down his shaft until you rest at the hilt of his base, kneading the tip into your gummy womb, giving it a deep kiss that bulges out from your poor belly.
The sight in the mirror is morbid, even more so than the feeling—the way he molds your insides to fit him, to cater and house his length and size.
“Ah—just perfect, isn’t it, hero?” he purrs, chest resting heavily upon your spine while dwarfing both your hips in a firm grip, chin-stubble scraping along your neck as his voice comes out hot against your ear, “Obedience suits you so well, don’t you agree?”
Your knees buckle once he starts the heavy pace—slowly pounding into you from behind, dragging out and pushing deep in womb-robbing thrusts. You pant from the toll of it, feeling your muscles give—too tired and too broken to continue acting tough. He’s the only reason you’re left upright on your feet—keeping you standing with just his hold on your haunches. It seems like nothing to him, though it feels like the weight of the world to you.
“It’s only a shame it had to come with all these scars.” He clicks his tongue, eyes raking across your body as it takes him, resting on each mark disrupting the otherwise milk-smooth skin. “If only you’d accepted your place sooner.”
The ember burning within you is all but a piece of cooling charcoal now. You feel it diminish every day, leaving you even thinner than before.
“But then again, I quite enjoy you like this—littered with my battle scars from your toes up to your crown. It’s rather intimate, isn’t it?” he hums with a smile. “Proof of all the times I could’ve quashed you beneath my foot like a pitiful bug but decided to spare you. Teach you how to worship like the weak ought to.”
There was a time when you still humored the thought of killing him, even with your quirk taken from you. You thought, in your foolishness, that being this close to him must garner an opportunity, any, however slim, just enough for you to take advantage and finish what you vowed to end so long ago.
Now, you almost don’t care anymore. The world had moved on without you, and there was nothing more you could do about it.
You realize your promise had been as cheap as this outfit.
“The greater the fall, the sweeter the surrender, isn’t that right?” he states. “Doesn’t it feel good to finally accept your place in the world, hero?”
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cw. foursome, daddy!chan, mean dom!seungmin, degradation, size kink (jeongin has a big dick bc it's canon) wc. 1700 minors dni.
note. the second drabble for my 7k event, using the prompts #27 "i'll make it fit", #35 "let them use you, baby. show them what a good toy you are" & #57 "sweetheart... you trust daddy more than you trust yourself. don't you?" this isn't proofread. we die like men ig <33
the room feels too small with three pairs of eyes on you.
chan's sitting behind you, his broad chest warm against your back. knowing he feels every shallow inhale and exhale makes your breath quicken. his hand squeezes your thigh; a silent warning to keep them spread while the other strokes lazily up your arm, goosebumps rising in its wake.
seungmin stands a few steps away at the edge of the bed. he's studying your face with intent, committing every twitch of muscle to memory. you feel exposed despite the dim lighting, struggling to keep a neutral expression and ignoring the flush of heat creeping up your neck when a low groan pulls your attention towards the corner.
jeongin's sprawled out in chan's gaming chair, legs spread, already hard and doing nothing to hide it. his eyes are fixed on your pussy. he makes a show of cupping the thick bulge in his pants — trailing his long, slender fingers over the outline of it, substantial even compared to his large hands.
he grins when your eyes meet and you quickly avert them.
"she's nervous," he comments. it doesn't sound like a complaint; it sounds like it's turning him on.
you swallow. when you and chan discussed inviting his friends to the bedroom you didn't expect him to invite both at the same time. the idea of having someone else besides chan had sounded exciting but now, with their hungry gazes all but swallowing you, you wonder if you got in over your head.
your voice wavers. "i — i don't know if i can handle all of you."
chan's chuckle rumbles against your back. "sweetheart," he tilts your chin up so you're forced to look at him, "you trust daddy more than you trust yourself. don't you?"
his thumb drags over your bottom lip, slow and possessive, and arousal coils low in your tummy. you nod without thinking.
"good girl." chan smiles at you, pleased.
seungmin steps closer. his fingers reach out to touch your ankle but stop mid-air, remembering just in time who's in charge here.
"she's shaking," he says to chan, though he's staring at you. "cute."
chan's hand slides down your stomach, stopping between your legs. his fingers spread your pussy for them, pressing just hard enough to make your hips twitch.
"she's ready," he says, "'s always is for me."
there's a hint of pride in his voice. your pulse flutters despite your earlier inhibitions; a familiar mixture of nerves and the desire to make him proud overtakes you.
he leans in, lips brushing your ear. "let them use you, baby. show them what a good toy you are."
you gasp when he flicks your clit, still holding you tight against his chest.
seungmin's grin grows wider. he kneels on the bed in front of you, brings his face closer to your exposed cunt. the way he studies you feels almost clinical. only the set of his jaw and the tension in his shoulders betray his own arousal.
"damn," he muses. "look at her."
jeongin leans forward, exhales with a low whistle that implies he's been holding his breath this whole time. "she's already dripping."
chan smiles against the side of your neck. "she's being good. aren't you, sweetheart?"
you nod, breathe out a confirmation that sounds much needier than intended.
"can i?" seungmin asks. he waits patiently for chan's approval and you can't help but admire the way he carries himself. there's something about his composure that makes your cunt clench at the thought of watching him lose it. at being the cause of it.
then his fingers drag slowly between your folds and you gasp, hips jerking, the touch both too little and too much at once. you whimper, clutching chan's thigh next to you.
seungmin pushes one finger inside just to watch your reaction.
"tight fucking cunt," he divulges. "you sure she can take it? it would be such a shame to break a pretty pussy like this."
you stifle a moan when seungmin adds another finger. he doesn't sound apologetic in the slightest — there's not an ounce of pity in his voice, just a detached certainty adding to the heat simmering under your skin.
across the room jeongin stands and unzips his pants. your gaze drops and you freeze. he's even bigger than you expected: longer than chan, who already has to ease his way into you with careful preparation.
jeongin notices your eyes on him and raises his eyebrows. "scared?"
"a little," you admit.
chan laughs. "i invited him for a reason, baby. didn't think you'd break before he's inside you."
jeongin flashes a smile, all teeth and bright eyes. "i'll make it fit."
"we heard you like it when it hurts a little," seungmin says. he adds a third finger and pushes them deeper, watching you squeeze around his knuckles with a wet squelch. it's all the confirmation he needs.
"needy sluts like you always want it rough. you hear that? this pussy's begging to be filled. bet your little ass wants some of it, too. does your daddy ever fuck you there, sweetheart?"
the pet name rolls off his tongue with a hint of an australian accent and you whimper, his mocking words going straight to your core. you sense he's testing the waters — chan rarely degrades you, but he doesn't seem to mind seungmin's shameless comments.
you wonder what the three of them discussed beforehand. how much chan's told them about you; about the things you like, what the two of you get up to, what you fantasize about…
chan tilts your face towards him again and kisses you, deep and messy, stealing whatever resistance you thought you had left. he breaks the kiss with a low growl against your lips.
"they're not going to be gentle with you, baby. i told them not to."
you chase after him, gushing around seungmin's fingers, whining when the other man pulls them out of you. jeongin laughs.
"hands behind your back," chan orders.
there's a buzz of excitement ringing in your ears. you obey. you always do. chan grabs your wrists in one hand, wraps the other arm around your neck to keep you in place. his legs cross yours to prevent them from closing. there's nowhere to go as seungmin moves out of the way, allowing jeongin to crawl between your thighs.
the youngest doesn't wait for chan's permission, doesn't need to hear him say it — the sight of your aching hole enough to have him press the head of his cock against it. he grips your hip, fingers digging hard into your flesh.
then he moves back and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. he slaps his cock on your clit a few times just to see you twitch, thrusts his hips forward so his full length rests atop your belly, showing exactly how deep you'll feel him. the sight alone is enough to make you crumble in chan's hold, palms clammy from nerves and arousal.
jeongin lines himself up again, pushes past your entrance slowly. his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches you struggle. a strangled moan escapes your throat and your head drops forward. the stretch is intense, bordering on too much, but jeongin pushes in another inch. he forces your cunt to open around him as chan tightens his grip on your wrists.
seungmin grabs your chin and drags your face back up. "don't be such an ungrateful whore. keep your eyes on your daddy. look at him while another man ruins you."
you expect chan to comment on his friend dictating orders, but he doesn't. he just holds you down firmly when jeongin thrusts in deeper and you try to shift away. you look up at chan with cloudy eyes, their iron grip and jeongin stretching you open so overwhelming you can't do anything but give in. you feel fuzzy, floating between the three of them.
chan's steady voice grounds you. "take it," he says, calm and commanding. "let him in."
your walls flutter helplessly around jeongin's cock, and when he presses in another inch you wonder how much there's still to go. you already feel impossibly full, the stretch brutal and addictive at the same time.
"fuck," jeongin hisses, grinding forward, "she's squeezing me so hard i can barely move."
"oh, you'll move," chan grits through his teeth. "she'll take it."
his voice sounds rougher now, as if he's losing his composure. he rocks his own hips into you, grinding his cock against your ass, looking for friction. your tears fall freely now jeongin's thrusts become harder. sharper. the room fills with the sound of your choked moans mingling with jeongin's low groans as he bullies himself deeper. chan's breathing remains steady behind you, his strong arms holding you exactly where they want you.
"good girl," he praises, not breaking eye contact, soothing you. "i know, i know, baby. biiig stretch, hmm? you're doing so well for us. daddy knew you'd do a good job, letting innie use your pretty pussy. you were made for this. made to take cock. our perfect toy."
his words make your chest swell. he smiles down at you and seungmin's grip on your jaw loosens, his fingers pushing past your lips when jeongin finally bottoms out. you choke around them, such a desperate splutter of moans and whimpers it has seungmin cursing under his breath.
chan's voice floats in and out of your consciousness, a safe haven to anchor yourself to as jeongin starts to fuck you properly. you can't do anything else but melt into chan's hold, head lolling against his shoulder. seungmin replaces his fingers with his cock, taps the head against your lips. tangy-sweet precum mixes with the salt of your tears.
mindlessly, you open your mouth, flatten your tongue against the underside of his shaft. the weight of him is heavy on your tongue and you struggle to divide your focus between lapping at seungmin's cock and the waves of pleasure taking over your body now jeongin's fingers have found your clit.
behind you, chan's voice pulls you back into the moment once more.
going insane at the thought of a skz member keeping a one night stand as a toy to share w the rest of the boys .
dumb girl has no idea hes not asking her to come over for a second time but forever actually .
and the fake pity and condescending tones while shes being spread and held by multiple hands while someones fucking her pussy or throat , goodlooorddddd
yes this is neighbor minsung anon ,, hemlo !
he'd be so proud. bringing her home, then showing her off to the rest of the group... i can see jeongin picking out a pretty little toy from the crowd and taking her backstage. chatting her up, maybe keeping things innocent at first. eventually inviting her to the dorms and getting her comfortable on his cock, sweet pussy too good not to share... but it isn't about the girl, not really. because nothing beats the praise of his hyungs when they bury themselves in her sloppy holes and tell him he's outdone himself, finding them the perfect cocksleeve <33
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Umm.. Stepdad toji who keeps pinching your puffy clit and stuffs three thick fingers knuckle deep into your pussy at the dinner table just because you brought home a guy friend of yours to hang out at his house and he does NOT like that. :(
Tw - STEPCEST, cheating, age-gap(early 20s n early 40s), anal play, daddy/dad kink, oral, some really inappropriate and gross stuff. Stepcest isn’t blood related. Not proofread.
A/n - “Toji wouldn’t do th-“ I don’t give a shit, goodnight.
GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who secretly rubs your little pussy through your thin cotton panties from underneath the blanket while you're having a movie night with your family in the living room.
GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who tells your clueless mother that he’s taking you on a daddy-and-daughter bonding trip for a few days so the two of you can spend more time together and get to know each other more which only ends up with his hefty cock being stuffed deep into your innocent pussy— filling you up to the brim in some random hotel not too far from your house.
GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who instantly gets rock hard whenever you'd call him “dad” or “daddy”. He just can’t help when a sweet young thing like you is innocently batting your eyelashes up at him and asking him for his assistance. God, you’re so helpless, you can’t do anything without the help from your dad, not even cumming. :(
Which is why he has to sneak into your bedroom dead at night and skillfully poke his stepdaughter’s g-spot with his fat tip till you can finally cum and make a big mess on his cock.
GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who's obsessed with you sitting on his face, your warm dripping pussy nestled in his mouth while his eager tongue skillfully laps at the essence of your arousal from your glistening entrance. His nose presses into your rim purposefully, causing your adorable hole to wink against his nose in playful response to his inhales and breathing. He needs you on his face at least once a day :(
GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who you coincidentally encounter in the bathroom, late at night while he’s pissing so that quickly escalated with his girthy cock now being shoved down your throat and he's thrusting it rhythmically in and out your mouth. Your eyes begin to well up with tears which only fuels him even more to use your mouth to his favor as he deviously grins down at you when he notices how you're helplessly playing with your drenched pussy with your fingers.
GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who gets off from being risky, especially when your mom is dozing off on the couch and he has you forcefully bent over the cold marble kitchen counter with one of his muscular hands pressed firmly against your lower back so you won't escape from his hold. His fat thumb is clogging your ass and his veiny cock is stretching your little pussy apart around his shaft while his angry tip is exploring the depths of your cunt.
He'd be such a mean man and force his thumb deeper and deeper into your asshole just so he can get a cute reaction from you and hear you whine while you desperately claw at his beefy forearm for him to stop :( He only chuckles and laughs at how scared you are as if you don't love it as much as he does.
GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who loves referring to himself as Daddy while he's balls deep into your slippery hole. Your trembling knees are knocking against your soft, bouncing tits and you're desperately gasping for air while your nails are sinking into his strong hand that's encircling your neck. "Shh shh c'mon be a good little step-kid f'daddy and take my cock". He whispers, trailing a thumb up to your glossy lips before inserting it into your mouth for you to suck on.
His cock is crammed into your tight pussy, and the way you keep sucking him in deeper and deeper every hazy second makes him not want to pull out anytime soon. He just can't get enough of your pussy. "That's it, that's baby, yer making daddy feel sooo good".
GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who has developed a habit of sniffing your cunt and ass, he just can't help it :( he just loves your natural scent and can't get enough of you when he's bending down behind your small figure while you're engrossed in cooking dinner for the family and pulls your shorts down to bury his pointy nose in your moist pussy.
A plague of worries clouds your head when you feel his nose prodding into your tight entrance in the open. "T-toji! n-not here, she'll see!", you pleaded as you attempted to push his head away from your rear only for him to clasp both of your hands into his larger ones with just a chuckle rumbling against your cunny. soft whimpers escape your lips when you hear his loud whiffs of your pussy.
GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who loves nothing more than licking his step-daughter’s little pussy at any given chance he gets :(
It's so prohibited and “taboo” and the older man is very much aware of that but he just can't help it when he's quietly slipping into your bedroom late at night to run his salivating tongue over the sapping mound— He’s been practically thinking about it the entire day.
His clothed cock immediately starts twitching uncontrollably every time his grimy thoughts clouded his vivid imagination, all he could do at work was discreetly palm his hardened bulge and give it a hard squeeze for friction and temporary relief.
He barely could wait till everyone was asleep to taste your delicious pussy again.
A deep involuntary groan leaves his lips from the taste of your creamy pussy melting on his tastebuds. The sensation of the sticky slick clinging onto his tongue stirred a desperate throbbing in his cock, yearning for more. God, every fiber of his being ached to plunge his hard cockhead into your warm, virgin pussy and ravish you until you painted his shaft with your cream but he won't... at least not yet.
Luckily for him, you were sleeping on your stomach and the tranquility of your slumber allowed him to cautiously lower your adorable panties down, gently resting it at your lower thighs, and parted your plush cheeks using his thumbs to peek at your delicate pussy. The glossy sheen veiling your folds glistened in the dim light, making his fat cock throb with urgency.
“Fuck, so pretty” he whispered breathlessly, sticking his tongue out to lap at your messy folds, his tongue flickers back and forth, licking up at your wetness and replacing it with his spit and intertwining saliva. Unfortunately for him, you weren’t a heavy sleeper so the sensation of his soft, wet tongue wiggling against your most intimate place was enough to stir you awake.
Your eyelids flutter open weakly, giving way to the heavy fog of slumber that still clung to your countenance. Sleep is evident in your features as your tummy tingles from the continuous sensation of the stimulation. Your vision was clouded with fuzziness but you could still make out the muscular silhouette of your step-father.
He was huge and muscular, he wasn’t built like some ordinary man so there was no mistake that it was him.
“Daddy?”You mumbled innocently, rubbing your eyes in hopes of having a clearer view after.
“W-hat are you doing?”
“Shh shh, go back to sleep doll. Dad’s gonna take care of ya” he lightly chuckled before caressing your ass and placing a few wet kisses on your soft cheeks.