Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Excuse me, signore? You dropped this,” Your sweet voice rang in Bruno’s ear like a bell, the black-haired man turning towards you. His heart pounded in his chest, your smile nearly sending a flush over his cheeks as you held out the wallet he’d so carefully ‘misplaced’ while walking past you, “You should be a little more careful. You never know who might pick up your lost items!” You chirped, pretty (E/C) eyes sparkling with mirth as Bruno stuttered through his thanks. After all these months of planning and watching you, to think he’d end up being tongue-tied in your first official interaction with him. You giggled - ah, his heart wouldn’t be able to take more of this - before bowing your head and hurrying off down the street. Bruno had no doubts you heading towards the ‘secret’ headquarters of the drug cartel you had unfortunately gotten caught up in.

Pressing his wallet to his mouth to try and hide his smile, Bruno inhaled slowly; there was just the slightest hint of your perfume attached to the leather, lingering as an aftereffect of your Stand. Swallowing thickly, Don Giorno’s right-hand man quickly tucked his wallet into the pocket lining the inside of his black suit - an effort to be more covert as he hunted your boss and the rest of your ‘co-workers’ down. With a whisper, Bruno activated Sticky Fingers, his large blue Stand quickly zipping open a portal that followed your meandering walk, intent on finally taking down the people who held your poor, innocent and sweet soul captive with the damned soul contract from your Boss’ Stand. 

It had been nearly a year since Giorno had first tasked Bruno to take down the last and most elusive group that ran the drug trade in Italy. Months of stalking, interrogating and killing off the lackeys had gone torturously slow and yet, eventually it all started to tighten the noose around this nest of rats. If Bruno had any shred of sympathy for those who sold drugs to children, as the evidence pointing towards this group indicated, he would have been impressed with how loyal and difficult the lower-ranked thugs were for their boss. However, it had only taken one particularly cowardly man, fearful for the safety of his family, to give in and tell Bruno what he’d wanted to know. The information, at the time, had been just a crumb of what he’d wanted - this one had only recently joined the rats' nest, God rest his soul - but it had been enough for Bruno to find, well, you.

His tense features softened when he thought of you, his dark blue gaze straying to your form as you ducked into one of the nearby alleyways. If there had ever been someone Bruno was hesitant to get rid of due to affiliation with a drug gang, it had to have been you. From the very moment Bruno had laid his calculating gaze on you, he’d fallen head over heels in love. It was your smile, your eyes, the gentle, serene look that always seemed to colour your features, the way you walked, how you spoke - a voice so soft and sweet it made Bruno think of how it would sound, cracked and pleading for the mercy of relief - hell, even the way you walked, how your body moved oh so sensuously, it all aggravated the feelings of love and desire that rushed through his body. He’d been relieved that the intel he’d gotten from the lackey was correct, though his immeasurable disappointment that it had been the person of his dreams that worked for a drug ring tinged the excitement with a note of bitterness. 

He had spent the last three months following you wherever you went, even outside of the headquarters of the drug ring, just to catch a better glimpse of your life. Some would say he was delusional, insane, to have fallen so quickly and so deeply in love with a target, but Bruno would have ignored them. You were just... so perfect - truly perfect - in his eyes, and his heart hurt that you worked for such an awful organisation. It felt as if his heart was going to be ripped in two - his loyalty to his Don and his love for you - until Giorno had offered Bruno the chance to ‘save’ you from the life you were entrapped in. Maybe it had been the soft way Bruno had spoken about you, how the older man stumbled over your name, the wistful, sad look on his face whenever you were called a ‘target’, that had influenced the Don to give Bruno the chance to keep you for himself. Perhaps it was the fact that your Stand’s ability was the reason for the increased production of the popular lust drug ‘Bubblegum Bunny’. Maybe Giorno just wanted to reward Bruno’s loyalty to Passione by gifting you to the black-haired man.

Whatever the reason, as Bruno snuck into your gang’s headquarters, his eyes locking on your form as you were brought into a small side room and locked in for the process of extracting your Stand’s pheromones, he knew what he had to do. It was almost laughably easy, taking out every higher up member that loitered around HQ, their blood and entrails soon coating the floor as Bruno quickly worked through their ranks. Bruno tried to be as quiet as he could, ducking in and out of the various portals Sticky Fingers created, using both himself and his Stand to take the gang out. Even the Boss, the one he’d been warned about being a Stand User, hadn’t been able to stand up against Bruno’s attacks, the man dying a quiet, undignified death. 

As Bruno wiped his hands off on one of the dead men’s suits, he froze when he heard banging and yelling coming from the room you had been put into. Snapping his head up towards the sound, he hurried over to unlock the door, catching your flailing body against his and quickly pinning you up against one of the walls, “Shhhh, shhh, cara, just relax, I’ve got you,” Bruno cooed, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he angled you away from the sight of the carnage, though not quickly enough that you didn’t see what had happened to your Boss and co-workers. He felt and heard you heave, your body thrashing to get away from him even as Bruno wrapped his arms tightly around your figure and held you still, “It’s alright, carina mia, I won’t hurt you. Shhh, you’re safe now, (Y/N), I won’t let anyone else hurt you.”

“W-who the hell - you killed them - holy shit, oh my god - get off of me you sick - vile - disgusting-!” You were still dizzy from the after-effects of having your Stand drained from its pheromones, your mind woozy and unfocused. Your words lanced into Bruno’s heart, wounding him as you cried for the loss of your friends and co-workers, “Let go, let go, let go, you’re sick, I don’t - I don’t even know who you are, don’t touch me, get off of me!” You whimpered, breath hitching and becoming faster as you grew more and more panicked, unaware of the way Bruno had gone completely still against you.

Something dark and ugly reared its head in the centre of Bruno’s chest, pushing away the hurt and betrayal he felt at your resistance. You were his - his lovely (Y/N), the love of his life, so sweet and innocent and in need of Bruno’s protection - one of his hands burying itself in your hair and yanking your head back so your (E/C) eyes could meet his, “Shut. Up,” He hissed, voice dark and dripping with vitriol, the threatening grip in your hair forcing you to go completely still in Bruno’s hold, tense, shaking, eyes wide and staring up at the vaguely familiar features of the larger man, “Do you know how hard I’ve had to work to be able to save you? You ungrateful little...” Bruno trailed off, desperately trying to rear his anger back to look at the situation logically. Of course, you wouldn’t trust Bruno - you’d been with this gang for so long, it’d be a wonder if you weren’t a victim of Stockholm Syndrome. Inhaling slowly, Bruno forced himself to be calm, his gaze dipping to your lips, something hot and hungry and wanting filled the black-haired man, “You need to show me some appreciation for saving you from these thugs, carina,” He cooed, his grip in your hair loosening, though remaining there as a threat if you didn’t follow Bruno’s wishes, “If you don’t kiss me, I’ll slit your fucking throat.”

You tensed at Bruno’s words, wide eyes searching his and whimpering when you saw the darkness that swirled in his gaze. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to end up like the others. Shutting your teary eyes, you tipped your head up, granting Bruno access to do as he pleased, the taller man immediately taking advantage of your forced submission to kiss you deeply. Bruno groaned as the taste of your mouth tingled on his tongue, his grip on you becoming softer as he pressed the full length of his body more firmly against you. Perfect... God, you were so perfect - you tasted so sweet on his tongue, better than Bruno ever could have imagined after all these months. You whimpered and allowed his tongue to dip into the hot, wet cavern of your mouth, resisting the urge to gag at the slick texture that rubbed against yours. The dizziness from your pheromone harvesting returned full force, your hands gripping at the front of Bruno’s suit to try and steady yourself as the black-haired man swallowed what little breath you were able to take. You tried to break away from Bruno, but he was too hungry, too needy, too lost in the taste and sensation of kissing you to notice that you were rapidly losing consciousness. 

When you went slack in Bruno’s arms, he broke the kiss with a deep sigh and admired your relaxed face. Carefully shifting his grip on you, Bruno lifted you into a princess carry and headed out towards the side exit to the building. He had Sticky Fingers dial Fugo, who was the driver designated to pick Bruno up, “Don’t you worry about a thing, mia bella (Y/N),” Bruno whispered against your temple, his chest tight with mixed emotions of anger and joy that he finally had you, “When you wake up, you’ll be safely locked away in our new home.”

Chapter Text

You knew it. You fucking KNEW that someone was stealing your fucking underwear!

“What the fuck, Mista!” You glare at Mista from the doorway, one foot tapping against the floor as he smirked lazily at you, naked except for the pair of frilly baby blue panties that barely contained the bulge of his cock. You knew your cheeks were flushed with a combination of embarrassment and rage, your (E/C) eyes trying to steer away from the growing wet spot at the front of Mista’s crotch. The dark-eyed gunman smirked, the hand that had been resting on the flat planes of his stomach moving down to playfully tug at the waistband of your undies. You swallowed thickly when you saw his hard, throbbing cock twitch at the change, your lips curling in disgust, “You’re disgusting. Stealing an employee’s underwear from their private rooms - and wearing them?! If I may be so blunt, sir, what the hell?! You know what, I’m not paid enough to deal with this, fuck this,” Shaking your head, you turned on your heel, intent on going to Bruno or Giorno - whichever one of them would care enough about one of the many maids that worked in the mansion - so that they could take care of this bullshit themselves.

You jolted in shock when the door slammed shut in your face, the click of the lock drawing your attention to the doorknob. You froze when you saw the little figures of Mista’s Stand grin up at you, their expressions as unsettling as it was to find one of your bosses wearing your underwear. A chill rushed down your spine when you felt something brush against your inner thigh, a squeak leaving your lips as you tried to reach down to feel what the fuck was going up your skirt. You didn’t notice Mista stand from his bed and rush you, your fingers brushing against something cool, alive and that left the tips of your fingers tingling from the touch. You made a move to grab it, intent on getting whatever the fuck it was away from you as it continued to move up your thighs - only for Mista to grab both of your wrists and slam your body against the door to his room. You gasped, a choked off scream barely leaving your throat before the panties that the gunman had been wearing were forced into the back of your mouth, muffling your cry for help. You tried to arch and buck to get away from Mista, only for the taller man to chuckle and pin you against the door, forcefully holding your wrists in one hand above your head, his other hand moving down to gently, threateningly, wrap around your throat, “So...would you like your underwear back, (Y/N)? I’m sure that naughty mouth of yours will be able to clean off my pre-cum while it’s in your mouth, right?”  

You froze in fear when Mista lightly squeezed your neck, a breathy, unintelligible murmur spilling from his lips as he lightly kissed the back of your neck after pushing your hair aside, “Hmmmm, that’s it, just relax for me, bambina,” He crooned, his legs forcing themselves between yours as two of his Pistols slowly lift your skirts, exposing the black lacy underwear you’d had no choice but to put on this morning after most of your panties had gone missing. You could feel Mista smirk against your neck, his legs forcing yours open wider and wider until you were precariously balanced on the tips of your toes, your clothed pussy exposed to the tiny, grabby hands of Mista’s Stand, “Oh? What a pretty pair of undies you wore today - are they for me? They are, aren’t they? I can tell, carina, you’ve been playing so hard to get, but I knew you were just another shy, needy little slut for me,” The gunman purred, his voice husky with want as you made a soft, frightened noise, trying unsuccessfully to close your thighs against the six probing figures rubbing against the damp seat of your panties. The cloth barely hid your soft mons beneath it, the Sex Pistols easily able to feel out the curves of your labia, the bump of your clit, their little voices chattering with excitement as they squirmed under the cloth to begin touching the bare flesh underneath. You flinched and bucked your hips, desperately trying to dislodge them, only to grind your ass against Mista’s hot, naked cock, the dripping head smearing pearly white pre-cum against the lacy black material. 

“Fuuuuuuuck, your panties feel so fucking soft on you,” Mista groaned, pressing himself even more firmly against you, his cock slipping between your thighs with a little bit of awkward humping. You shivered when you felt it grind against your labia, pushing the Sex Pistols around more firmly, the squirming little beings fighting with each other about who got to play with what parts of your body. You could barely move, the grip Mista had on your throat forced your face against the door, your cheek pressing into the cool wood as he lightly choked you every so often. Chuckling lowly, Mista leaned in to kiss your slack, panty stuffed mouth, admiring the fear in your eyes as his Stand began to work you over, making your pussy wetter and wetter with each touch. You whined sharply when you felt two small mouths begin kissing and suckling at your clit, Mista’s mouth moving from your lips to your neck to begin marking your skin possessively, “Mmmh, such a good slut, hahh, you like it when Sex Pistols play with your needy pussy? Don’t lie to me, baby, I can feel how wet you are - your panties are fucking soaked,” Mista growled, roughly grinding and thrusting his cock against your, your panic, fear and arousal making you even more sensitive to all the stimulus you felt against your pussy. You writhed, trying yo duck your head down so the gunman wouldn’t be able to continue marking you, but Mista simply pulled your head back so it rested against his chest, “Uh-uh, bambina, you gotta be a good girl and let me mark you up - how else are the others gonna know that you’re mine,” His tone was teasing as he swivelled his hips against you, but the hidden darkness beneath that shot bolts of hot fear into the pit of your belly.

You squeaked when you felt the four Pistols who weren’t currently playing with your clit move away from your soaked folds, their bodies moving up to the bands of your underwear that hugged your hips. You tried desperately to shake your head, to plead through the cloth at the back of your throat for it to stop, but they easily tugged down your underwear to expose your swollen, dripping cunt. Mista hissed between his teeth when he felt the heat of your juices coat his cock, slicking him up with your natural lubricant, “Damn, (Y/N), you’re so wet you could probably drown someone between your thighs,” He growled, resting his chin against your shoulder, two of the Sex Pistols moving to guide the tip of his cock so it pressed against your weeping cunt, while the last two squirmed beneath the material of your shirt and bra to play with your nipples. Soft, breathy noises fell from your lips, tears staining your cheeks as Mista hauled your body away from the door, forcing you to lean back against him. He changed his grip on your wrists to hold them behind your back, giving his Stand free rein to the rest of your body should they want it, “Hmm, I shoulda taken your clothes off so I could see your pretty tits swinging while I fuck you, bambina... ahhh, we’ll just have to do that next time, won’t we?” Mista crooned shifting his hips before forcing his cock inside you, his pussy stretching painfully around his thick girth as he cruelly sunk into your clenching walls with one thrust. 

A muffled scream ripped from your throat, your body thrashing weakly against Mista as fat tears dripped down your face. Despite how wet you were, the lack of prep left your inner walls aching and throbbing with pain, your already tight cunt becoming vice-like around your forced lover. Mista groaned as your muscles practically sucked him further in, the Pistols all roaming around your body to play with you, trying to make up for the painful stretch of their User’s dick. You eventually went lax against Mista, chest heaving for breath, your body trembling against the onslaught of sensation that rushed through you. You felt like you were adrift, your mind foggy and disjointed from your figure, before you were brought back into it forcefully with the first rough thrust Mista made inside you, a mixture of pleasure and agony coiling tightly in your gut. The gunman grunted loudly in your ear when your cunt fluttered around him, releasing his grip on your throat to instead hold your left hip as he pulled his hips away before slamming brutally back into you, drawing a wheezing moan from your rough throat, “Mmmh, fuck yeah, that’s it, just give in to me, baby,” Mista panted, setting a hard, rough pace, eagerly seeking out his pleasure from your body. While his movements weren’t necessarily pleasant, the feeling of his tip slamming into your g-spot while the Sex Pistols pinched, rubbed and sucked at your clit more than made up for the pain that wracked your body. You were horrified to find that the pain steadily began to dissipate the longer Mista fucked you, harsh pleasure rushing down your spine to send your juices gushing around Mista’s cock, steadily working you up further and further to the edge of your release.

The gunman panted and groaned in your ear, his hot breath washing over the bruised, saliva slick skin as he rutted into you, single-mindedly chasing the high of his release. You tried to hold off, hoping that he would cum and let you go, hoping you could keep some of your dignity if you proved him wrong and didn’t cum from the onslaught of his dick and his Stand’s attempts at pleasuring you, but you knew it was a losing battle. You whimpered and whined, your hips jerking into and away from Mista’s thrusts, your mind growing foggier with the need for relief. You could hear your attacker growling absolute filth into your ear, you could feel the little hands and mouths on your clit and nipples, you could feel your pleasure drip, drip, dripping down the insides of your thighs. You cried, knowing that there was nothing you could do to try and stop the bliss that threatened to overwhelm you. It was with one particularly deep thrust combined with a rough squeeze from one of the Pistols that sent you over the edge with a muffled wail, your back arching sharply as you shook from the force of your release. Great big sobs wracked your frame and you shook your head, trying to pull away from the over-stimulation of Mista’s thrusts, only for the muscular gunman to growl lowly and force your hips down against his. He hilted his cock inside you, grinding against your ass as you felt thick, hot ropes of cum paint the insides of your walls, the throbbing, aching muscles clenching rhythmically around his dick to draw more of his spend deep into your body. You felt sick to your stomach, frozen in place, unable to move even though your hands were free from Mista’s grip.

Releasing a blissful sigh, Mista dismissed his Stand, pulling his softening cock from your pussy with a slick noise that made you shiver in disgust. Thick, slimy globs of his seed dripped from between your flushed labia, streaking your inner thighs and coating the insides of your black lacy underwear. Still, Mista held you close, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, pressing ‘sweet’ kisses over the bruises he’d left, “Hmmm, that felt so good. I needed the relief, cara, thank you,” Mista crooned, pulling away from you and reaching down to pull your panties up ad over your abused cunt, humming happily when he saw the streaks of white gleaming against your inner skin. Slapping your ass, he chuckled and unlocked the door, “ Now, you’ve still got a lotta work to do today, don’t ya, baby? You can come back here for the rest of your panties later tonight. I’m gonna have to discuss some changes to your schedule with Don Giorno later tonight,” Your heart sunk at his words as you spit out your soaked panties, sniffling pathetically as Mista closed the door behind you. Something told you you weren’t going to have your current job for much longer. 

Chapter Text

“I saw you last night, carina…you looked beautiful, (Y/N), absolutely stunning,”  The soft voice murmured in your ear, a warm body pressing lightly into your back.

You flinched when you felt large, warm hands curl around your hips, desperately trying to ignore the way your skin tingled from their touch. There was a soft chuckle, warm lips pressed to the back of your neck, a soft sigh sending a wave of hot breath over your sensitive neck. You shuddered and squeezed your eyes shut, trying desperately to ignore the build-up to tears.

“Aren’t you even gonna look at us, baby?” Another man’s voice, so familiar, so awfully, terribly familiar, rumbled against your throat, sharp teeth nipping at the point where your pulse thrummed beneath your skin. A long, thick tongue laps lightly at the growing bruise as a growl vibrates against your skin, “If you just do what you’re fucking told then we wouldn’t have a problem, would we, (Y/N)? Did you really think you could run away from us? That we wouldn’t come after you...” Joseph - no, not Joseph, these monsters were not the men you had fallen in love with oh so very long ago - hissed, his words trailing off. He cupped your chin and forced your face up, his gaze burning over your terrified expression, wishing desperately that you would look upon him with those gorgeous (E/C) eyes of yours. He craved supplication, validation, the cleansing nature of your kind gaze taking in all that he was and telling him it was alright, “Did you think we wouldn’t find you and take you back?”

You whimpered when Joseph’s grip on your chin tightened painfully, the feeling of bruises breaking out across your skin forcing your teary eyes open. Caesar - wherever Joseph went Caesar was right there with him, you thought bitterly - huffed and clicked his tongue sharply, pulling Joseph’s fingers from your face, “Now, now Jojo, do try to control your temper,” The blond crooned as he turned your face, lightly kissing over the mark Joseph had made on your chin, cooing sweetly when you tried to jerk away from him, “It’s been a while since we last had our bella uccellina in our arms. It’d be best if we didn’t frighten her again, don’t you agree?” The brunet huffed at Caesar’s words, his fangs glinting threateningly in the low light that trickled in from the tiny barred windows above you. You felt sick when Joseph locked his gaze with yours, the now mauve coloured irises flashing a deep crimson as you felt something burrow its way into your skull. Joseph’s lips curled in a smile and he leaned down, nuzzling his nose against yours, keeping his eyes on your (E/C) ones, that false, nauseatingly sweet love blooming in the back of your mind. Caesar hummed as he noticed what the brunet vampire was doing, the blond opening his mouth to lightly nibble the skin of your neck, “Hmhmhm, ahhh, I’ve missed having you in my arms, carina... you’re so warm, so soft, so alive and perfect. I just want to sink my fangs into you and drink you down,” Caesar’s voice mumbled and dimly, you knew you should be afraid, but whatever Joseph was doing to your mind suppressed any feeling beside complete and utter adoration.

“C-Caesar, please,” You whispered, voice cracked and ruined from the screaming you had done when you’d first woken to find the two men - no, vampires - staring at your naked, sleeping body. Your breathing hitched in fear when the tips of his fangs scraped against the spot where your veins throbbed beneath your skin, “P-please.... don’t-” You were interrupted by Joseph as he leaned in to kiss you deeply, his tongue forcing its way between your lips to coil with yours. You whimpered, bound hands clenching between your thighs, your mind spinning dizzyingly as Joseph shut his eyes. His sharp fangs nicked your lips and tongue, the taste of blood filling your and his mouths as he groaned hotly and forced you to take him deeper. You choked, writhed, tried to get away only to be pinned by Caesar, who sank his fangs into your neck. You could feel the way your hammering pulse began to slow and grow sluggish, the feeling of suction shooting bolts of mind wracking pleasure down your spine. You didn’t know why it felt so intense, why you could feel wetness gushing between your thighs, a needy ache throbbing in the apex of your pelvis, but you mewled and arched your back at the feeling. You felt high like you were going to cum just from the sensation of having your blood drawn, of having both men press into you from either side, their cool bodies fanning the unwanted flame of desire in the pit of your belly.

You barely noticed when Joseph broke the kiss, your eyes hazy and mouth slack and drooling as Caesar drank greedily from your neck. Joseph’s voice sounded hazy and far off, you felt large hands tipping your head back further, a lukewarm mouth pressing a soft kiss to the other side of your neck followed by the sensation of the brunet biting into you. With nothing to muffle your noises, you cried out and convulsed, your inner muscles clenching painfully around nothing at your release exploded through your body, thick juices squirting from your needy, empty cunt. Your orgasm changed the taste of your blood, the flood of endorphins making it taste sweeter, more complex than before. You whimpered weakly when the two men continued to drink from you, their tongues covetously lapping at your shoulders until the stopped sucking and let the stream trickle to a halt. You were woozy and lightheaded, perfect for Joseph to prey on your mind as his mauve gaze locked with yours once more, hammering in the affection you felt towards the two vampires in thickly. He was delighted when you leaned in to kiss his bloodied lips sweetly, mumbling something unintelligible, before turning your head and doing the same to Caesar. The blond chuckled and eagerly returned the little kiss, tempted to take advantage of your nearly mindless actions to take what he really wanted.

The blond hummed and slid his tongue over the still weeping wounds on your neck, Joseph briefly breaking eye contact to do the same on the other side, “There we go, you did so well, bella uccellina,” Caesar purred, drawing your naked body closer against his cool, clothed one, his fingers sliding down your belly to swipe at the mess between your thighs. Your clear juices stuck to his skin, making the pads slick as he brought them up to Joseph’s mouth, the brunet eagerly taking the digits and lapping them clean. He groaned thickly and you saw his pupils dilate, his nostrils flare, a hungry expression twisting his handsome features into something you couldn’t - no, wouldn’t recognise, “Doesn’t she taste incredible, caro? And to think, our sweet (Y/N) came just because we drank from her... perfect, you’re absolutely perfect for us, bellezza,” Caesar crooned in your ear and you whined, trying desperately to feel more of them, his words shooting a bolt of lust through your body.

“Mhm, so perfect,” Joseph murmured in agreement, indulging himself by leaning in to kiss and nip at your neck, relishing the little sighs you released at his sharp affection. A smirk curled his lips as he locked eyes with Caesar, the blond humming and beginning to pull away from you, “But we still need to punish you for running away from us,” Joseph whispered, feeling a thrill of excitement skitter down his spine when your (E/C) eyes, wide and terrified, turned to his. The brunet was tempted to curl up closer to you, wanting so desperately to give you all the love and attention you deserved... but you weren’t ready, nor had you made up yet, for them to give you what you needed. You whined Joseph’s name, his mind manipulation taking effect easily, making you feel afraid as both vampires pulled away from you and started making their way over to the stairs that would lead out of the cold, bare basement they had locked you up in. They watched you squirm and try to buck off of the bed, your desperation for them cute in a twisted way, as both men bid you a good night.

A sob ripped itself from your throat when they shut the door behind them, the click of the lock causing your body to tighten in fear. You didn’t want this, you hated this, you didn’t want to be alone, you needed them, needed Caesar and Joseph like you needed air. Yet, the two vampires didn’t come back, no matter how loud you cried for them, screamed their names, begged raggedly for the two to return. Above you, in the comfort and darkness of their bedroom - the bedroom you would one day, hopefully soon, be allowed to sleep in - Caesar and Joseph touched, kissed and rutted against each other, pleasuring their bodies to the sounds of your desperation and fear. 

They could hardly wait for the day you completely gave in to them.

Chapter Text

You flinched when you heard the door to your apartment squeak open, immediately shutting your eyes when you heard a low sigh coming from the front door. The plate in your hands shook with how hard you trembled, wrist still bloody and raw from the manacles that had sprouted from them this morning, keeping you locked within the prison that was once your home. Inhaling slowly, you tried to square your shoulders and relax somewhat, carefully setting aside the still wet plate to dry in the rack on the counter. You heard the sounds of heavy-duty boots being removed, a pause as the man you feared most seemed to wait for something, before he began walking to the kitchen, calling out your name. You knew if you replied now that your voice would shake too badly, so you kept quiet, going through the familiar, mechanical motions of washing the dishes you had used to make dinner. 

Risotto, the man who kept you prisoner, the man who had followed you home and forced his way into your life, called out your name once again, his voice tilting just a little, the tone becoming dark. You made a soft noise, which drew his attention, large body slumped over with exhaustion, the lines around his mouth tense until he spotted you and he ducked into the kitchen. The assassin meandered into the space you occupied, his dark eyes glancing over at the dinner you had made - his favourite, as was always requested when he allowed you the freedom to roam your apartment - and hummed softly, “You didn’t greet me today.”

You bit the inside of your mouth to keep yourself from saying anything. You knew that if you said something Risotto didn’t like, the terrifying man would punish you for it. You were lucky that he hadn’t already, to be fair. Taking a small breath, you mumbled a small apology, “Got lost in thought, sorry,” Your reply seemed to satisfy him, enough that he bent to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. Despite yourself, you remained still, unwilling to break the strange calm that Risotto displayed at the moment. When your captor moved to wrap his arms around your waist, his chest pressed against your back and his head resting atop yours, you nearly dropped the plate you had been cleaning. Setting it aside to dry, you clutched the edge of the cabinets, your body tense as you waited for Risotto to say or do something. The tension between you two was thick and uncomfortable - at least from your perspective - and you tried to keep your expression neutral when Risotto buried his face in your hair and sighed slowly once more. 

You knew he liked the smell of the shampoo he’d gotten you. It was the only shampoo you still had. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me how my day was?” Risotto’s voice rumbled against the back of your head and you flinched. You were silent for a tad bit too long, a growing pressure in your wrists letting you know that though he seemed to be calm, Risotto was not a patient man when it came to you deferring yourself to him. Mumbling lowly, you followed his implicit instructions and asked how his day had been while slowly taking the last plate in the sink and beginning to wash it. Risotto hummed in satisfaction, “Busy. Melone nearly let one of our targets slip away before Prosciutto was able to knock him off,” You grimaced at the casual way Risotto spoke about his job, but remained quiet to allow the man to continue. This was good. If Risotto was talking about work, he wouldn’t notice the knife you were gripping beneath the soapy water. Your heart thrummed beneath your skin as you tightened your grip around it, humming absent-mindedly as you tried to wait for the perfect moment to strike. You didn’t want to give Risotto the chance to realise what you were doing and stop you - this would be your only chance in who knows how long to try and make your escape. 

Feeling Risotto shift and begin to pull away from you, you decided that this was the perfect moment to strike. Faster than you thought possible, you pulled your hand from the soapy water and swung your arm and body around, bring the knife up to Risotto’s throat - only for your larger, stronger captor to grab your wrist and squeeze the raw skin painfully. You cried out, your hand going slack as the delicate bones in your wrist creaked beneath Risotto’s strength, the taller man forcing your arm back until your knees buckled beneath you. The knife clattered to the floor and skid off to the side, removing the chance you had to grab it with your non-dominant hand to try and stab Risotto again. You bent forwards, heaving as the pain continued to build and build and build until you tasted bile at the back of your throat, “S-stop, stop, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You wept, tears streaming down your face as Risotto paused in what he was doing, your arm shaking in his grip as he kept you where you were. You thought for a moment that maybe he’d have mercy on you, that he would forgive you for your ‘transgression’ against him, only to scream when the pain in your creaking wrist tripled. 

Blood gushed as sharp iron spikes lanced through your wrist and upper arm. You heaved, bile splattering onto the front of your shirt and the floor, making a mess you would no doubt have to clean up. Your mind spun dizzyingly at the cloying scent of blood filling your nose, Risotto sighing tiredly as he released his grip on your wrist. You could feel that the iron spikes had been careful not to sever your hand from your arm, but you could tell that the bones had fractured from being pierced. You clutched your hand to your chest and cried, your face becoming a mess of makeup, spit and snot. Risotto seemed to watch you for several long moments, taking in the pitiful heap you made by his feet, before he knelt before you and gently took you into his arms, “Shhhh, shhhh (Y/N), it’s alright, I forgive you,” The dark-eyed man crooned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you leaned desperately into his chest, forgetting for a moment who he was and what he had done to you, craving the comfort of another’s touch, “I’m sorry, carina, you know I hate having to hurt you like this... but I can’t let you go unpunished for that kind of behaviour, you understand, don’t you?” You wept and nodded weakly, trembling as Risotto tightened his hold on you, carefully lifting you into his arms so he could bring you to the bathroom where he’d clean you up, “I just want you to love me, (Y/N). It’s okay to love me, bellezza, just give yourself a chance, si? Please let me teach you to love me.” 

You continued to cry and sniffle as Risotto helped clean up the blood from your wrist, the iron spikes no longer piercing through the flesh. The sting of the antiseptic sent a fresh wave of tears down your face when Risotto disinfected and wrapped up your ruined skin, followed soon by the larger man wiping the mess off your face. He was careful to help you undress, easily forcing you into one of his large, worn Metallica shirts, tossing your dirtied clothing into the wash. Once you were clean and cared for, he brought you into the cool, cold room and lay you out on the bed, cooing and shushing you when you begged him not to tie you to the bed, only to do exactly as you pleaded against. Once he was sure you wouldn’t be able to make a break for it, Risotto went back to the kitchen, ignoring the mess of blood and vomit on the floor and prepare two plates full of food for you and him. 

“I suppose tonight will be a calm night in,” Risotto mused to himself, hearing your whining from the bedroom become quieter as you realised you weren’t going to get what you wanted, “And I was so hoping I’d have one nice evening.”

Chapter Text

“If you don’t kiss me, I’ll slit your fucking throat.” 

Your heart pounds loudly in the back of your throat. The edge of the knife presses threateningly into the soft, flimsy skin of your neck, proving that the man’s words were not an idle threat. You knew that a day like this could come when your true parentage had been revealed and you had been hauled to the country capital and introduced as Emperor Diavolo’s bastard child, but you had never thought it would be so soon. 

Or that your assassin would demand a kiss from you.

You release a strained whimper when the handsome blond hovering above you presses his knife more firmly against your throat. Not wanting to die, you give in to his demand, carefully lifting your head to press a light kiss to his lips. Immediately, your attacker sighs and pushes closer, forcing your lips to part so he could greedily take what he wanted. As he kissed you, your mind reeled as you tried to make sense of what was happening. Who sent this man? Was it your half-sister, Diavolo’s Heir? You thought you and Trish got along quite well the few times you spent time together. A soft noise left your throat when the knife was pulled away from your neck, cold steel plunged into the pillow beside your head. You tried to break away, but the blond man cupped your face and forced his tongue deeper inside your mouth, shifting his body until he no longer hovered above you, but lay against your barely clothed form. A terrified whine vibrated against the muscle that was so desperately squirming in your mouth, the edges of your teeth scraping his tongue even as you desperately tried to resist the urge to bite down. Who knew what he would do if you bit him?

Breaking the kiss, the blond pulled away briefly to ruck up your skirts and tear away the top of your nightdress, exposing your trembling body to the cool night air. Your would-be assassin smirked when he saw the flush of your skin, one rough hand cupping your left breast and squeezing it painfully, your nipples pebbling because of the attention. You tried to buck away with a whine, turning your face away from his when he bent down to try and kiss you again, “If you know what’s good for you, Princessa, you’ll be a good girl and give me what I want,” He growled against your cheek, dipping his head to the exposed skin of your neck and biting down on your pulse sharply, marking you without a care. You feared that this meant it wouldn’t matter if he marked you, your assassin planning to kill you once he’d had his way with you anyway and tears slipped down your cheeks. You tried to stifle your terrified noises, the sobs that threatened to spill from your lips, and the blond cooed in an insincere ‘comforting’ manner, “Oh hush, carina, I won’t hurt you, shhh, I just want to play with my pretty little prize before I steal you out from under your father’s ‘protection’. Mmmh, it’s been so long since I’ve had the chance to fuck such a pretty little bitch as yourself,” You flinched when you felt him steadily beginning to move down your body, hot breath washing over the clammy sweat that trailed down the growing softness of your form - good meals and a life of comfort had allowed you to gain the softness of a proper princess, something that obviously delighted your attacker as he bit and sucked dark marks into the plush flesh of your belly. 

You were surprised he hadn’t thought to tie you down: was it confidence or foolishness? Did he know that you had no knowledge of how to defend yourself? Either way, the action did not go unnoticed and left you weary, unwilling to fight back just in case the blond man made good on his threats, “P-please, I don’t... why are you doing this?” You whimpered, teary (E/C) eyes sliding down to lock with the icy gaze of your assassin, the man cooing at the sight of your flush, chubby face as you faced him once more. You hated that the vibrations of his voice and the tender touches of his rough, slim hands were beginning to make you feel hot, an ache settling in the centre of your pelvis. You were on the cusp of your monthly cycle, at your most fertile and vulnerable, and you knew that there was no doubt this man would impregnate you should he continue with what he was doing. Your mind raced as you tried to think of a way to convince the blond not to take you, distracting you until you felt his hot, thick tongue drag between the plump, flushed labia hidden between your thighs. You gasped, arching your back at the bolt of pleasure the action sent through you, your hips forcibly held down by the slim and muscular form of your assassin, “O-oh please, please don’t do this! I-I’ll give you any-anything you want, sir, please-!” 

Your ragged moan interrupted the desperate offer you were trying to give as the assassin ignored your words. His hands gripped your plush thighs, burying his face between them as he lapped languidly at the growing wetness welling from your pussy. You whimper and try to buck away, hands clenching at the pillows beneath your head. Your eyes shut tight as you desperately hoped to think of someone, anyone else doing this to you, or better yet, imagine something that wouldn’t make you feel so hot and needy for more. Pleasure ebbed and flowed through your body, culminating in the pit of your gut where it coiled tightly. You wished you could bury your hands in the silky looking strands of the blond’s hair, but you were too afraid that doing so would encourage him. Pulling away from your cunt, the assassin growled something thickly, one of his hands moving between your thighs to spread your thick lower lips, exposing the soft, wet flesh beneath, “You taste so sweet, Princessa,” He cooed, trailing his tongue over the throbbing flesh, relishing the hiccuping mewl that spilt so easily from your throat, “Hmm, you’re offering me anything I want, but honestly carina, what I want is you,” Your hazy (E/C) eyes fluttered open, teary gaze locking with his cutting, excited blue irises, your body tensing when you felt his fingers plunge into you, quick and cruel, eager to stretch you just enough to take his cock with little pain or discomfort. Though he knew he had to work quickly, especially since you were steadily becoming louder with each thrust and spread of his fingers, he was unwilling to hurt you. After all, you were going to be his perfect little wife once he got you out of here. His lips curled in a smirk, Prosciutto - for that was the assassin’s name - shifting his body so he lay against yours, pinning you down to the soft mattress of your bed, the hand not currently drilling in your cunt cupping your pudgy belly and giving it a harsh squeeze, “The Emperor might have been willing to risk having a little bastard, but I’ll be sure to marry you before anyone notices the child growing inside you.”

You felt a chill rush down your spine at the blond’s declaration, opening your mouth to respond only for Prosciutto to lean in and kiss you deeply. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and pulled his cock from his pants, intent on filling and fucking you before he was caught. You squeaked and tensed in slight pain when he thrust into your slick pussy, breaking the kiss and inhaling sharply to cry out - before your mouth was filled with the taste of silk as the blond man wrapped a pillow around the lower half of your face. You whimpered wheezily, tears streaming down your face as you felt his long, slim cock steadily fill you to the brim. Your world shimmered as your eyes filled with tears, back arching and hips bucking desperately to try and get Prosciutto off of you; you couldn’t let him do this, couldn’t lay back and let him do as he pleased, especially with regards to his dark desires. Prosciutto growled thickly and held still, staring into your (E/C) eyes as he waited for you to relax and stop struggling. This was going to happen whether you lay back and let him do as he pleased, or if you tried to put up the weak struggle you were attempting. Eventually, the sting of Prosciutto’s initial entrance waned and you grew tired of fighting, your body going slack beneath the blond, “Now, are you going to behave? No screaming or I’ll make sure you regret it, Princessa,” You whimpered and nodded, encouraging Prosciutto to pull the pillow away from your mouth. The blond crooned and slowly began to rock his hips, his face ducking into the crook of your neck to nip and suck at the soft skin there, tossing the pillow off to the side so he could grip your wide hips with both hands.

You remained quiet as your attacker rutted inside you. You remained quiet as he whispered filth in your ears, promising you a life of luxury, of riches beyond your comprehension, of a family and children of your own. You remained quiet as his thrusts became brutal, the slamming of his cock reaching so deep inside you it left a painfully pleasant ache at the back of your cunt. You remained quiet when you came from the stimulation, hot tears flooding down your flushed, stinging cheeks, little hitches of breath the only indication of the sobs you desperately stifled in your chest. You remained quiet when the blond growled and groaned, calling you his perfect slutty princess as he filled your ruined cunt with thick globs of seed, his hands and body forcefully tilting your hips up so not a drop would be wasted. You remained quiet when he slipped out of you, staring at the mixture of blood, cum and your juices that trickled from your bruised labia, a soft murmur of how pretty you’d look all round and glowing with his child causing you to break down and turn away from him. You remained quiet as he leaned in to kiss you, whispering his name in your ear, tucking his spent cock into his breeches and left through the opened window. 

The next day when you were introduced to Prince Prosciutto of the Northern Lands as a potential suitor for your hand in marriage, you remained silent and allowed him to kiss the back of your name, charming smile doing nothing to mask the dark promise in his icy blue gaze. 

Chapter Text

He was back again today.

The blond in the strange green suit with several dozen holes sat slumped in the corner of the cafe just like he had been the last three shifts you had worked. From what you could see, working at the counter, he seemed to be hoarding a pile of paperwork under his head, his voice muttering so low you couldn’t understand what he was saying. Not that you would be able to understand him well anyway - you were still trying to learn Italian as best you could, now that you were working in the service industry. He just always seemed to use the larger, more complicated words and sentences than what you could understand.

At least he kept his order simple, you thought to yourself, glancing in his direction and taking note that his cup of coffee was getting dangerously low. You watched as he lifted his head from his paperwork, looking absolutely miserable as he continued to pour over the documents. Your heart went out to him - the poor guy looked like he was just one misspelt word from breaking down. Shaking your head, you sighed softly and continued restocking the flavourings for the coffee, making sure they were in the order of darkest to lightest. It wasn’t a requirement of your job, but it just bothered you if they were out of order. Glancing around, you took note that your manager seemed to be on break, the perfect time for you to do your random act of kindness for the day. You quietly made another cup of coffee - cafe latte with a pump of hazelnut flavouring, a dollop of fresh cream and some cocoa powder on top - and made your way in his direction. 

He didn’t notice you until you placed removed the empty cup he’d just set down, replacing it with the new one with a smile, “Ah... Signorina, questo non è il mio ordine,” He said, voice soft as he glanced warily between you and the cup of coffee. Seeing his confusion, you felt your cheeks flush darkly as you stuttered through telling him it was on the house. His eyes widened and he smiled, small and thin, but genuine, tilting his head and murmuring a soft thank you. You beamed at him and walked back over to your station, unaware of the way his purple gaze followed you as you bustled through your work. Despite his work, the man couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over your figure, sticking to the sway of your hips and the cheerful bounce in your step. Hesitantly, the blond man lift the cup to his mouth and took a sip, nearly melting back into his seat with a groan of bliss as the divine taste of hazelnut and coffee danced across his taste buds. Catching you glancing back in his direction, he lifted he cup up in a small salute, his lips quirked in a softer, sweeter smile, cheeks rosy with delight at your attention, “Grazie, signorina.”

You smiled and waved off his thanks, turning back to your work just as a large group of college students ambled into the cafe. A half-hour later, he flagged you down to pay for his drinks and smiled that same pretty smile, his cheeks dusted a light rouge as you told him to have a good day. You were surprised and happy to find he had left you a hefty tip, your lips curling up in a delighted smile. When you turned once more, he was gone and you shrugged and went on with your day.

Remembering it now, sitting across from the same man, wringing your hands together nervously as he handed you a stack of official-looking paperwork, the name of your recently deceased boyfriend glaring up at your tearful gaze, you wondered if that moment of kindness back then had been more than he deserved. You certainly felt, at this terrible moment, that that was the case. 

Pannacotta Fugo, as you had learned his name over the past year and a half, was not a man to be trifled with. When you had first seen him all those months ago, stressed and in need of a break, you had thought he was just a strangely dressed businessman. Now, as you read through pages upon pages upon pages of outstanding debts you would have to pay off because of your stupid late boyfriend, you couldn’t help but look up at the calm blond in despair, “I... I don’t have the money to pay all of this off,” You spoke, voice meek and worn from crying, your hands scrunching the papers together in your tight grip as you let your watery (E/C) eyes fall back to them. You sniffled lightly and let the paperwork fall back to your coffee table, burying your face in your hands as you tried to stop the well of tears in the corners of your eyes, inhaling sharply. Rubbing at your face, you released a shaky sigh and dropped your hands, meeting Fugo’s pensive gaze desperately, “Is there anything I can do to get rid of this debt? I don’t have much in savings, b-but it’s enough to get rid of half, yes?”

Seeing the blond shake his head, a falsely sympathetic smile curling your lips, you tried to push down the sharp disappointment and betrayal that bloomed in the pit of your stomach.  With how often the blond had come into the cafe you worked at, you had thought that the two of you had become friends. Sure, your Italian was still... spotty, for lack of a better description, but you had steadily been improving with his help. Surely those days together, making idle conversation as Fugo worked through the large piles of paperwork he always brought in with him, meant something at this moment. You could feel despair beginning to overwhelm you, tears glittering on your lash line as you stared down at your hands. There was no way your old boss would take you back after having quit several weeks ago - especially not when you had an outstanding debt to Passione. You doubted anyone would take you in with the debt anyway, Passione or not. Even then, you knew you still had to use the majority of your savings to bury your boyfriend - not that the bastard deserves it, you think bitterly to yourself - so that removed the option of at least paying back some of the money in good faith.

There was nothing you could do. You felt helpless, alone, betrayed and terrified. 

You were jolted out of your thoughts when you felt a rough, warm hand grip yours, your gaze snapping back up to Fugo’s as he linked his fingers through yours. A part of you felt comforted by the touch, your hand squeezing his instinctively in thanks. The other, more cautious and afraid part of you, remembers the times Fugo had gotten so angry he’d flown into a rage, screaming and cussing anything and anyone out as he’d stuffed his paperwork back into his briefcase, storming out of the cafe with nary a backward glance. Of course, he’d never, ever shown you that anger - it had always been directed at someone else... but that didn’t mean you weren’t terrified that one day he would turn on you and scream about what a useless bitch you were, “I’m sorry, (Y/n), but we both know that you could never pay this amount of money back no matter how good of a job you’d be able to get,” Fugo murmured, and you noticed the strange, nearly excited tremble in the blond’s voice, dread welling up within you as he smiled oh so sweetly, lifting your hands to his lips to press a kiss to the back of yours, his feverish purple eyes locking with your (E/C). You wanted to pull your hand back, but Fugo’s grip was too tight and you gave up soon after with minimal struggle, “I... I know this might be sudden, but I could help you get rid of your debt with no problems. I’m paid very well by Passione’s Don - being the gang’s accountant has quite a lot of perks, after all... ah, but there’s just one small thing I’d like in return.”

You watched warily as Fugo reached into his suit, fumbling with something in the inner pockets lining the upper half, growling in frustration before he finally managed to grab it properly. Chuckling, the blond pulled out a small, velvet box and you felt your heart freeze at the sight. That was the ring box you had found a couple of days ago, stashed in your boyfriend’s work coat. You had been looking for that ring ever since the news of his death had reached you. What was - “I know this isn’t the best of circumstances to ask this, carina, but...” Fugo shifted until he kneeled in front of you, his purple eyes wide and adoring, flipping the lid of the box open to show the subtle, pretty little diamond and silver ring nestled in the ring holder. You felt sick, swallowing back bile as it threatened to overwhelm you, desperately trying to pull back as Fugo leaned into your personal space, “Will you marry me, amore? I’ve been in love with you for so, so long - ever since you first spoke to me. You’re such a kind, gentle soul... that bastardo-” Fugo spat angrily, his grip around your hand, the hand that held your ring finger to be clear, tightened painfully, bruises beginning to bloom on the soft skin, “didn’t deserve you. You deserve to be loved, spoiled, treated like a queen. I would give you that - I would make all of your wants and wishes come true. It wouldn’t be so bad, right?” Fugo asked, his voice becoming strained and panicked as you remained silent, staring in dawning horror as he continued to tighten his grip around your hand, the delicate bones beginning to creak painfully. Fugo seemed to be on the brink of a nervous breakdown, muttering to himself in Italian before shaking his head and holding the ring out to you more firmly, “Is it so hard to love me, (Y/N)? You... you were just playing hard to get, right? That’s the only reason you would-would date such an unreliable asshole, right?” Fugo seemed to be growing more and more desperate, the barely contained rage the blond held in his slim body causing him to quiver before you. 

You didn’t want to know what would happen if you rejected him. You didn’t want to see him lose himself. You didn’t want to be hurt, killed, whatever it was that Fugo would do in the blind anger he’d fall into if you didn’t stop it right now- “Y-yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!” You blurted quickly, flinching when the blond man went deathly still, his purple gaze both looking directly at and through you simultaneously, “I-I’ve liked you for a long t-time Fu-Pannacotta...” You trailed off, the reassurance of your fake feelings weak even to your ears. You worried, for a moment, that Fugo didn’t believe you, that your words would just make him fly off the handle, but the blond soon sighed and slumped, a relieved, bright smile curling his lips. You nearly felt like you were going to vomit when he kissed your hand again, mumbling something against the skin that sounded suspiciously like ‘Grazie, amore’ before he pulled the ring out of its box and slipped it onto your ring finger. You bit your lower lip, the tears that filled your (E/C) eyes slowly beginning to trail down your cheeks as Fugo pulled you in for a tight, desperate hug.

Who knew how long you’d be able to keep up this facade. You could only hope it wouldn’t end in your death, too. 

Chapter Text

When the dragon first landed on the borders between your liege’s lands, you had sworn to uphold your oath and rid the kingdom of the fiend. You had ridden out, decked in your worn armour, no need for finery when there was a large likelihood that you would die. You felt as you grew closer and closer to the towering spire the dragon had taken for itself, that you had lived a good life. You had accepted that as the last of your bloodline of dragon slayers, it was your duty to protect the kingdom. 

Who would mourn someone that had gone to meet their destiny with honour and integrity?

As the battle had raged between you, large gales of wind battering against your rickety armour, breaking the links and leaving you vulnerable, you had come to accept that this would be your last fight. You had accepted that you would not settle down and grow old with a beloved by your side. You had accepted that there would be no other (Y/S/N)’s to follow in your stead should you fail. The dragon was a formidable foe, his breaths calling on the strength and violence of the storm rather than fire as he flew in delicate arches around your figure. Behind you, your horse lay stiff, dead, the poor old beast having thrown you off its back when it had first spotted the flying menace, heart coming to a sudden stop not a second after. You knew you were vulnerable, weak compared to the dragon, swinging and arching your sword, having tossed your shield aside in favour of being swift and sure-footed. You knew you were only delaying the inevitable, your death spelt out in the shake of your aching muscles, the tremble in your legs as you continued to dart forward. You knew if you weren’t careful that this battle - your death - would be for nought. So you had raised your sword as the dragon rushed you, a scream of rage, pain and grief echoing through the canyon as you met your death head-on. 

If you were going down, you would take the fiendish lizard down with you.

With a great big clash, you had met the beast halfway, your sword catching on its horns as it forced you to the ground. In the tumble, you lost your grip, a strained cry of desperation and anger wrenching itself from your throat as the sharpened metal flew away from you. You squirmed as you felt the large, clawed hands of the dragon clutch your entire torso, its monstrous head lifting away from you, mouth open and poised to strike. Undeterred, you snarled, thrashing, biting, clawing at anything and everything you could. Your continued struggle had the dragon pause, its mouth sliding shut as it studied your squirming, writhing figure, listening to you as you howled and swore angrily, proclaiming you would curse the beast to hell. You froze, however, when the beast rumbled lowly, its lips spreading in a wide grin, the hands around your torso tightening until you could no longer breathe. Just as you were about to lose consciousness, accepting that your death would be at the hands of the beast in such a pathetic way, you heard a low voice croon, “Don’t worry, my love, I’ll protect you while you slumber. You need never fear death at my hands again.”

So, you could imagine ones surprise, when you awoke the next day, naked and flushed with need, surrounded by finery you had never before seen, as the dragon hovered above you. At least, you believe he was the dragon, your eyes wandering his tanned skin in aw, watching it shift as the man - dragon, definitely the dragon, with those towering horns, those slitted golden eyes, fangs so large they could pierce your skin with no issues - duck his head down between your thighs, a long, slick tongue invading your soft cunt with ease. You could not hold back the breathy moan that had spilt from you, your thighs clenching around his head, trying to close yourself off from that terrible, terrible tongue as it pleasured you relentlessly. While you were no stranger to the carnal bliss of the body, it had been too long since you had taken a lover skilful enough to have you on the brink of release in mere moments. You whine, confused, afraid, bucking your hips to try and get away as the dragon’s tongue strokes deeper and deeper inside your cunt, stretching you, encouraging your juices to soak the muscle in preparation for more. You could feel your inner muscles tighten, your head tipping back with a moan, breathing picking up as you began to plead, “O-oh, gods, please, please, I-I’m gonna - a-ah, hahh, hmgnh, f-fuck!” Your hips rut against the man’s face, mind delirious with heat and pleasure as you rocked closer and closer to completion. You came with a wail of relief when he shifted his grip on your hips, bringing a thumb to your cunt to rub the pad roughly against your clit. The pleasure was too much as you felt your cunt gush around the dragon’s tongue, your body trembling and tense until it went lax.

Still, he continued thrusting his tongue inside your aching pussy, keeping you on the edge until he was satisfied with how wet you were, pulling away from your twitching, aching cunt, “What a good little knight, all sweet and tender for me,” He growled, turning his face to bite into the hard flesh of your inner thigh, watching covetously as you jolted against the fine silk sheets. The manacles around your wrists clinked loudly with your movements, the tinkling metal like music to the dragon’s ears as he slowly brought your hips back down. He curled around your front, forcing your thighs to part and wrap around his muscular hips, his larger, muscular body easily pinning you down, the heat of his body overwhelming against your sensitive, flushed skin. You whimpered, shaking your head, trying to arch away from him, only to press further into the softness around you, twisting the sheets around your sweaty body so tightly you felt like you were cocooned in soft warmth, “You look divine, my mate, perfect - so strong and brave of you to come to me, to fight me so fiercely for those who don’t deserve you,” The dragon continued to murmur, his large head - everything about him was so big compared to you - burying itself in the crook of your neck, nuzzling the bruised skin, his fangs grazing the space he planned to bite into to mark you properly as his. You whined and thrashed, shaking your head and begging, though he ignored your pathetic attempts to get away from him. The broad head of his cock ground between your soaked labia, the feeling of it forcing you still, nausea-inducing fear coursing through your veins alongside the lust that addled your mind, “I have been searching for a worthy carrier for so long, my sweet little knight. Know that from today onward, you will carry the brood of Whammu, the Great Air Dragon; you will be my perfect little mate, so fierce and proud and strong, perfect to be the mother of my children,” The dragon, Whammu, growled against your ear and a fresh wave of panic rushed through you as the head of his cock began to breach your barely stretched pussy. 

“W-wait, I can’t, you’re t-too big-!” You gasped and screamed as the dragon relentlessly rolled his hips into yours, forcing the wide head of his dick into your smaller cunt with no remorse. Whammu purred thickly at the tight heat that clenched around his head, your inner muscles desperately trying to expel the huge intrusion, but only managing to suck him slowly, excruciatingly inside you. You wailed, arching your whole body against the huge, hard length of Whammu’s body, feeling the slight, hardened bulge in the base of his abdomen, “W-Whammu, oh gods, p-please - it’s t-too much, I can’t!” You whined, struggling as best you could when the dragon merely held your hips in his powerful grip, his cock sinking ever deeper inside you. You feared, deliriously, that he would be large enough to pierce through your womb, filling the sensitive space to the brim with just his cock, let alone the ‘brood’ he wished to stuff inside your smaller body. You were terrified that something would tear, that you would be damaged once Whammu had filled you to the brim with his cock. If you looked down, you could see the bulge he made inside you, gradually filling you fuller and fuller, so full it was becoming hard to breathe, until his hips finally pressed against your ass. You whined something incoherent, eyes screwed shut as you tried to breathe through the overwhelming pressure - neither pleasurable nor painful - your breath catching and hitching with every subtle twitch of Whammu’s cock, every slow grind of his hips. His voice was a low coo as he murmured sweet praise against your temple, your hair slick with sweat and sticking to the sides of your head, “I-... I ca-ahhhhngh-can’t d-do it,” You whimpered pathetically, crying gutturally when you felt the head of Whammu’s dick nudge against your cervix, coating the painfully sensitive opening with his numbing pre-cum.

Whammu hushed you, his hands stroking your sides, gently coaxing you through your delirium until your tense, shaking body relaxed and twitched around him slightly, “Shhh, little knight, shhh,” He murmured, his voice thick and sweet, adoration dripping from his words as he slowly began to rock his hips against yours, the heat between your bodies making you feel like you were melting into the silk sheets. You could feel Whammu pull out of your cunt by an inch and thrust back inside your cunt shallowly, gradually building up his movements until he slowly pulled his cock out till the tip and slammed back inside you, his merciful motions ceasing as he gave in to the lust and the need to see you fucked and filled with his eggs, “Hush now, of course, you can do it, look at how well your body takes me, how perfectly you were tailored to fit my cock,” Whammu rumbles, his words meant to soothe your babbling, pleading, incoherent whining as your tight cunt swallowed him back to the hilt with little difficulty. The wet sounds of his rutting inside you nearly echoed through the tower, hard, meaty slaps of his muscular thighs meeting against your ass, your liquid lust flowing from your cunt in a river to make a mess of the finery beneath you. Whammu started slow and deep, but steadily increased his pace, brutally fucking you into the soft mattress and sheets of his nest, murmuring against your skin almost feverishly as you whined and clenched your hands uselessly above you. You knew if your hands were free, you would be clawing at Whammu’s back, desperately trying to hold him closer, to cling to him to ground yourself instead of pushing him away, “You feel so tight, so heavenly around my cock, mmmh, that’s it, give in to me, let me take care of you, let me fill you with my brood, make your belly grow heavy and round. Shhh, you can rely on me, little knight, I will keep you safe and hidden here in our home,” You whined and shook, mind lost in the haze of pleasure that rocked through your entire being, the feeling of his cock hilting inside you so deep the tip slammed into your womb sending shock waves of arousal through your gut.

You were close. You wanted to hold onto something, to cling, to pull Whammu closer with your legs. Just a few more hard strokes where the flat planes of the dragon’s pelvis ground roughly against your clit, and you felt the pressure within you explode, a whining cry of Whammu’s name ripping itself from your throat. The dragon grunted and hilted himself deep inside your milking cunt, growling and snarling as something heavy and round travelled up his cock, rubbing against your tightened walls and over your g-spot, sending you tumbling over another orgasm before it settled heavily in your womb. You whimpered weakly, unable to fight against Whammu as he lapped at your neck, opening his mouth to sink his fangs into the crook where your neck and shoulder met, marking you with the scar that would grow from his bite. Egg after egg after egg pumped steadily through your clutching pussy, rolling against each other before nestling heavy and hot in your gradually growing belly, making space for more to join. You must have cum at least thrice more before Whammu rolled his hips one last time, the biggest egg of the brood yet pushing through his cock to plop wetly alongside its siblings in your tight, aching womb. The dragon growled and rutted a little inside you, a torrent of thick seed spilling into your ruined cunt to coat and fertilise the eggs, cushioning them to ensure they didn’t rub abrasively against each other while they incubated inside your hot little belly. You whined, slumped in the bed, delirious from the pleasure-pain of having cum so much in such a little amount of time. Whammu’s softening cock eventually slipped out of your gaping pussy, a thin trail of seed trickling from between your bruised labia before it congealed and prevented the eggs from leaving you before they were close to hatching. 

Whammu crooned and kissed your face, running his hands possessively over your swollen middle, stretch marks already beginning to form across the skin. You were too tired to fight back, the darkness of slumber calling for you as you slid your eyes shut. 

Chapter Text

“Do you have to leave so soon?” 

The soft voice of your client, deep and sleepy, catches your attention as you check the time and your bank information on your phone, making sure that the full payment had gone through, (E/C) eyes turn to look at the tired, satisfied form, the room too dark for you to make out any defining features besides the strange glint in his eyes. The heady scent of his Heat, spicy-sweet, filled the room even though it had ended in the early hours of the morning. You shoot him a polite, kind smile, wondering if he could even see it in the darkness of his nesting room and shook your head, “I can still hang around for another round if you need it, sugar,” You croon, putting your phone back on the charger and shifting to face the Omega, trying to ignore the pleased shudder that rushed down your spine when he purred in satisfaction. You bit back a tired sigh as you crawled onto the bed once more, allowing the Omega - Dia, he’d told you to call him - wrapped his surprisingly muscular arms around you. You hummed and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek, willing to put up with the affection for just a few hours more, or at least until your contract ended. Dia pouted, which you could barely see in the darkness, and you chuckled softly, leaning close to kiss the Omega gently, “Awww, don’t be like that, carino. We still have a few hours until I have to leave. Where’s that smile I’m looking for, sugar? I want to remember every. Little. Piece. Of. You,” You emphasised your words between sweet kisses to his face, remaining affectionate even in the last few hours of your contract. 

When you had been approached by a member of Passione in regards to your under the table job, you had been fairly surprised. Mostly because you had been approached while you were bustling tables at one of your part-time restaurant gigs. When he - a little pink-haired man who hid their secondary gender so well you’d been tempted to say he was a Beta - had called you by name and invited you to sit with him for a cup of coffee, you had been hesitant to do so. It wasn’t necessarily that you hadn’t... performed your job with other members of the mafia syndicate, more like you had been able to tell from the documents he’d pulled out and the way he had spoken that this was for someone of high rank in Passione. Before you’d had time to wonder which of your previous clients had ratted you out, the man who called himself Doppio had offered you the ‘opportunity of a lifetime’, so to speak. A job that required your utmost silence and secrecy should you choose to take it. Considering the amount of money that had been offered as pre-payment for your discretion, you had been more than willing to accept. You had been given instructions on where to meet, how long you would be required to perform your ‘service’ and the payment once the time had passed and you had completed the task. 

Considering your task was to help a paying Omega through their Heat, well, it hadn’t been a difficult thing to accept. Especially with the generous payment, you were going to receive once whoever your client was’ Heat had ended. So you had accepted after a cursory look through the contract, received the keys to the safe house - a very fancy looking mansion, surprisingly - bought yourself some birth control - which was always uncomfortable to stick inside you - and headed home for the day to prepare. You had, luckily, been given a burner phone to go over some details with your client before the two of you met, which had just been the general things you knew you’d need to do for any other job you’d taken in the past. Purchase or use birth control, keep your mouth shut about who they were and be ready to take care of a needy Omega in Heat. Simple, plain, the instructions were already almost followed to a Tee, even as you tried to ignore the bubbling sense of unease settling in the pit of your gut. The voice on the phone had been sharp and breathy, deep in that deliciously masculine way most Omega men sounded when they were on the cusp of their Heats, and you had tried to ignore the dread that welled inside you when he called you casually by your first name. Seriously, which of your previous clients had ratted you out? You were almost half convinced that your new client was the secretive ‘Boss’ of the gang, though you had tossed the thought out as easily and quickly as you had the details of the contract before you could fully read through them.

This would just be another simple, easy job for you. Please the Omega, make sure you don’t mark, mate or impregnate them, get the money and keep what happened during their Heat to yourself. You were lucky that they hadn’t seemed interested in any darker kinks that you would usually charge extra for. So you had sighed, washed up, shaved your legs, pits and trimmed your pubic hair, then packed the clothes, lube and condoms - just in case - you’d need for the next week. 

You should have read through the contract more thoroughly. Maybe then you would have realised that you had just rutted Passione’s Boss through his quarterly Heat. Maybe you would have refused the request, unwilling to tie yourself up so intimately with a man well known for killing those he sees as traitors. Perhaps you would have made the connections that he knew you far, far, far too intimately than should be possible, even if he’d gotten your name from one of his underlings. 

But you didn’t know any of this, as you kissed your client sweetly, your hands petting his torso and sides, moving him around so he lay sprawled out in the centre of his nest. You didn’t know, as you kissed down, down, down the muscular length of Dia’s body to wrap your soft lips around his cock, that the Omega you’d spent the last week tangled up with, knotting repeatedly according to his demands, that he was Diavolo - the most powerful man in Italy if most were to be believed. No, you had no clue that this man had watched you for nearly two years, jealous of the subordinates and other Omegas you pleasured through their Heats, encouraging him to go off his suppressants so he could finally take you for himself. You didn’t know, sucking his cock down your throat, his hands in your hair as he whined from the gentle stimulation, that he didn’t plan to let you leave now that he had you, eager to keep you locked away and all to himself for as long as he was still obsessed over you. You didn’t know that he’d spent some of his lucid moments, moments where you had been sleeping soundly, poking holes into the condoms you’d brought with you and carefully removing the IUD you’d pushed into your clit to prevent any viable eggs and semen from filling his fertile cunt. You were unaware of the syringe Diavolo had hidden in the drawer of the nightstand, how his begging for you to mate him, to breed him, had been honest and eager from the very start, the needy Omega desperately wanting to trap you into a relationship with him in any way possible. 

You knew none of this as you rubbed the blade of your tongue against the underside of Diavolo’s cock, suckling and humming lightly to pull the Omega over the edge of a lazy orgasm and swallowing his spend easily. Crawling up the bed following Dia’s release, you kissed him deeply, allowing the Omega to taste himself on your tongue before you slowly pulled away. You smirked down at him, hearing Dia pant and mewl from the lazy stimulation, moving to sit back on your heels as he recovered from his orgasm, “Was that good for you, bambino?” You crooned, purposefully allowing your voice to become husky and deep, watching Dia shudder and spread his thighs eagerly beneath you. Your clit twitched with interest, the retracted length and girth beginning to plump up with blood once more, eager to fill the satisfied Omega one last time before you would have to leave once more. Dia moaned as he felt the slick muscle brush the inside of his muscular thigh, his green eyes dark with lust as he watched your long, thick clit become hard, perfect and mouth-watering in every way. Remembering how it felt when you stuffed that thick meat inside his puffy, needy cunt as him shuddering and clenching around nothing, a gush of thick juices coating his labia, eager to feel you inside him once more. You laughed softly when you saw his reaction, delighted that Dia seemed more than willing for one last romp in his nest, “That’s it, caro, just lay back and let your Alpha take care of you.”

Shifting your body, you moved to pull away from Dia to reach for the nearly empty pack of condoms on the bedside table, only to feel him tighten his strong grip around you, “Hmmm, it’s fine, we don’t need them anymore,” He purred in your ear, arching in a languid stretch and wrapping his muscular thighs around your soft, wide hips. You sighed and gave in despite your worries, kissing and sucking lightly at Dia’s still slightly swollen scent gland, the bruised bump causing your partner to whimper and tip his head back submissively, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you, Alpha,” He crooned, half distracted as your soft hand wrapped around the impressive girth of his cock, rubbing the sensitive flesh gently as you aimed your clit for the soft, wet, open heat of his cunt. You ground the head between his soaked folds, humming lowly as Dia whined and clung to you desperately, “How long I’ve - ah, mmh - watched you from afar, dreaming about the day I finally get to have you in my nest,” He mewled, deep voice sounding sweet even as you felt wariness settle across your mind, trying to hush him by kissing him deeply. You were... disturbed by his words, the connotations that he made regarding already knowing who you were. Still, you pushed them to the back of your mind, slowly sinking your clit into Dia to the hilt, rumbling softly when he clenched tightly around you, “A-ah, hahh, yes, mmh, hahh, perfect, my perfect (Y/N), you’re mine, do you hear me? Mine,” You gasped when Dia suddenly flipped you over, the taller Omega growling thickly, his intense gaze locked on your softer form. His large, nearly clawed hands reached down to cup and squeeze your breasts, his hips rolling smoothly above you as you moaned and tipped your head back in pleasure. Dia groaned, pinching and tweaking your nipples harshly as he began to lift himself off your clit, teasingly swivelling his hips while keeping the tip inside his soaked pussy, before slamming back down harshly, shuddering when your clit ground over his g-spot, his cock slapping wetly against your lower abdomen, “Mine, mine, mine, you’re mine, I’m never letting you leave me, never gonna let you take any other Omega, do you hear me? I’d kill you first then let you take another lover,”  Dia snarled, riding you hard, fast and deep, taking your throbbing clit inside his aching cunt so deep the head felt like it was prodding Dia’s womb.

The Omega moaned thickly, gripping your tits tightly as he fucked himself on your clit, relishing the power he held over you now that he was clear-minded once more. While Dia adored how you’d stepped up and taken care of him during his Heat, how gentle you’d been unless explicitly instructed, he couldn’t deny that he loved watching your gasping, flushed face as he rode you, the way your breasts jiggled from his rough thrusts. You moaned his name, voice wrecked, your hands clutching at his narrow hips and encouraging the irregular rolling of his movements, “F-fuck, oh g-god, Dia,” You groaned, breath hitching when he bent down and nipped sharply at your scent glands, biting into the bumps so hard you froze, afraid that he’d broken the skin and forced a mating bond between you both. The anxiety swirling in your gut mixed headily with your arousal, creating a strange, tingling tightness in your gut that threatened to burst at any moment, pleasure rushing up your spine to build up the ecstasy you felt. You gasped and moaned, gritting your teeth against the burgeoning desire that filled you to the brim, suddenly hit with the instinct that something was very, very wrong, “D-Dia, wait, something’s n-not right, lemme pull on a c-condom-!” You were interrupted by the Omega slamming his lips over yours, his thrusting growing more and more aggressive, fucking your clit harshly in pursuit of his pleasure. Dia growled when he pulled back from the kiss, muttering something you couldn’t quite catch, the movements of his hips stuttering and picking up speed, the pink-haired man eager to feel you cum and knot inside him over and over again. 

Just as Diavolo hit his peak, he could no longer hold himself back and let his fangs drop, clamping his mouth around your mating gland and biting in harshly. Your blood and pheromones burst over his tongue, causing his green eyes to roll back in pure bliss as his intense orgasm crashed through his body, pussy tightening like a vice around your steadily inflating knot, forcefully holding you deep inside his needy, milking cunt. You gasped in shock, the pleasure of Diavolo’s bite sending you tumbling over the edge, knotting the Omega hard and fast, the flesh at the base of your clit inflating so quickly and locking you inside Diavolo’s pussy you felt dizzy and light-headed. Your hands clenched around his hips, grip tight enough to bruise as you painted the back of his cunt with your copious, watery seed, fully aware that there was far, far too much of it coming out of your clit, even as your shallow cunt squirt and made a mess of the sheets beneath you. Something instinctive and terrified told you that your birth control had failed, that the IUD what somehow removed during the process of Dia’s Heat, and a shudder of fearful revulsion swept over you, drowned out by the ecstasy of your release. Diavolo purred, lapping at the punctured gland inside his mouth, the Omega feeling heady from his victory, stuffed to the brim with your egg and semen, hoping darkly that it would take root inside his womb while fertilising his egg as well. 

With a sigh, Diavolo pulled his fangs from your newly created mating mark, his rough tongue laving over the painful wounds, encouraging them to scar brightly against your skin. You stared up at him, wide-eyed with shock, stunned silent by the Omega’s actions as he grinned smugly down at you, “Now you’re truly mine, (Y/N),” He purred thickly, slowly grinding his hips against yours and shuddering as he felt your watery release lap against his walls, your inflated knot keeping him full. Sighing in satisfaction, Diavolo stretched out against you, nuzzling and rubbing his face against your chin, marking you with his spicy-sweet scent to further stake his claim, uncaring about the terror that gripped you. You were his now, and that was all that mattered in his mind. 

Chapter Text

“I could fucking kill you right now, you know that?” Cioccolata’s voice crooned by your shoulder, his hot breath washing over the raw wounds in your shoulders. A soft whimper rips itself from your ruined throat, the blindfold around your eyes soaked through with sweat and tears. You could feel your blood dripping from your back, lukewarm and nauseating, forcing you to swallow back bile. You shake when you feel gloved hands wrap around your hips, forcing your shaking body to go still beneath the doctor’s touch. You didn’t try to move away - practically melting back into Cioccolata’s embrace, the green-haired man crooning as you did so, “It would be so easy, you know? Just one little nick into your aorta and you would bleed out in seconds. Just. Like. That,” You flinched when he snapped his fingers to emphasise his point, the rubber covered thumb of his other hand rubbing slow circles against your clammy skin. Cioccolata remained quiet for a while, draping his front against your back, relishing the touch of your figure against his, the way your blood-stained his coat, lingering on his clothing like the lipstick stains of an ardent lover.

You were silent and still, breathing heavily, your lips spread as you tried to inhale slowly, shallowly, whiles your lungs begged for you to gulp down air greedily. You had to be quiet while Cioccolata thought. You had to be good, had to let him mull over what to do with you. The whirring of camera equipment made itself known, reminding you of the audience that watched Cioccolata ruin your body - punishing you for trying to run away when he left you unsupervised to take care of Secco for the day. A new wave of tears soaked into your blindfold at the thought; you were bad, bad, bad, and had to make up for it, you had to prove to Cioccolata that you could be a good pet and stay quiet for him. Your arms screamed from the strain of your body dangling from the ropes, your legs completely useless as they throbbed painfully from your fall through the window. When you had first jumped, you didn’t have the time to worry about if it would break your bones, too preoccupied with getting away from the doctor and his toy before you were caught and ultimately punished for your disobedience.

Cioccolata sighed again, the green-haired man pulling away from you. You strained your ears, desperately trying to hear if he was going to lift the cat-o-nine-tails to continue slicing open your back. You heard, instead, the rustle of clothing, dread and fear swirling heavily in your gut - what was happening? What was Cioccolata planning to do? Oh god, oh god, ohgodohgodohgod - “You’re lucky, carina, that I’m a patient man. I know you’re just acting out against my loving experiments because you’re scared,” Cioccolata cooed, the sound of his pants falling to the floor drawing a terrified whine from you, your teeth biting sharply into your lower lip to keep from making any other noises; Cioccolata doesn’t like it when you’re a noisy bitch. You have to be good, you have to behave, you don’t want him to hurt you for being bad again. The doctor’s hands cupped your hips once more, his legs forcing yours apart, chin digging into the meat of your shoulder as he draped himself along your back, “Now, I know I usually like to play with my Bitch as a treat, but bad pets don’t get rewarded, now do they?” Cioccolata’s voice was breathy, and you felt his right hand move from your hip to between your thighs, his knuckles brushing against your folds while the doctor stroked his cock to full hardness. You trembled, whimpering Cioccolata’s name, only to cry out when he bit sharply into your shoulder with a disappointed growl, “Ah, ah, ah, no. Bitches don’t get to talk. Keep that pretty slut mouth of yours shut, carina, or I’ll sew it shut.”

Unwilling to entertain the doctor’s sadistic tendencies, you bit your lower lip to try and keep your noises to yourself. While some slipped through - little moans, breathy mewls, animalistic and lustful noises - so long as you didn’t speak, Cioccolata was more than happy to continue playing with you. Slowly, as the doctor continued to brush and grind his knuckles against your pussy, the head of his cock rubbing against your clit, you began to enjoy his touches, leaning back further into Cioccolata for more. Embarrassingly, you could feel a wetness begin to accumulate between your thighs, your juices drip, drip, dripping onto Cioccolata’s fingers, drawing the green-haired man’s digits to the hot, wet centre of your cunt. He chuckled, forefinger and thumb - still covered in the rubber of his gloves - pinching your clit harshly just to draw a needy moan from your throat, watching from your shoulder as you stuck your breasts out, your ass rubbing back against Cioccolata’s pelvis, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, what’s this? Is my pretty little Bitch all wet for their master?” He sneered, the head of his cock gliding between your surprisingly slick labia. Your cheeks flushed with humiliation, hating that your body’s natural lubricant was aiding the doctor in torturing you further, though a larger part of you craved Cioccolata’s praise and surprisingly gentle touches. 

You whimpered and turned your face to try and hide it in your arm, the green-haired man immediately clicking his tongue and lifting one of his hands to tangle it in your hair, forcing you to face the camera set up on a tripod in front of you. You couldn’t see the machine, but you could hear Secco’s excited, nearly wheezing breaths, the other man relishing the sight of you - naked, bloody, thoroughly punished and soaked with need. Cioccolata laughed, the sound pitched almost into a giggle, one hand forcefully holding your blindfolded face up so the audience on stream could see your expression more clearly, the other pinching and tugging harshly on your clit, forcing waves of overly-pleasurable and painful tingles through your gut, “Mmh-mmh, you have to let the people see what a bad slut you’ve been. Be a good Bitch and take my cock all the way, carina, and maybe I’ll let you off the hook for the night, capito?” You nodded quickly, wet streaks of salty tears trickling from your soaked blindfold and over your face, the humiliation of being touched, ‘loved’ by Cioccolata in front of a live audience is nearly too much to bear. You made a soft, pained noise when the doctor forced the head of his cock into you, your juices doing nothing to prevent the burning stretch of his cock from shooting pain down your spine. Though you tightened around him and whined, Cioccolata simply hummed and continued to force inch after inch of his thick dick inside you, your slick insides making sure that nothing tore, but unable to settle the pain that wracked through you. Your arms shook, rattling the chain that held you up, and any shift of your legs sent more pain hurtling through your mind.

You felt dizzy. You felt sick. And yet, you felt pleasure and satisfaction bloom in the pit of your gut when Cioccolata was able to push the last inch inside you, his balls nestled against your soaked labia and smothering your clit with their heavy weight. A soft, guttural noise spilt from your lips, Cioccolata encouraging your body to lean back against him, the stinging on your back negligible as you sought out the comfort of his touch, “’m sorry!” You whimpered, breaking down as Cioccolata slowly rocked in your cunt, steadily building a long, smooth rhythm that caused your head to spin, the hand in your hair petting your head gently, “’m sorry, ‘m so, so sorry, shouldn’t’ve - hahh - didn’t mean t-to be bad, Cio-a-ah M-Master, please,” You continued to babble, hearing and feeling Cioccolata hum as you wept and pleaded for forgiveness, biting your lower lip until the skin burst and bled. You knew you’d just disobeyed him, but hearing your sweet voice hitch and whimper for forgiveness just made the doctor harder, his thrusts speeding up just the slightest bit in response. He cooed, praising you for being good, for being a good little Bitch, and you felt a rush of dopamine flood through you, whimpering and rocking back into Cioccolata’s painfully pleasurable movements. Something inside you had broke, your mind delirious with lust, agony, terror, causing you to seek out the first thing that gave you comfort even if you didn’t deserve it. The hand between your thighs moved up, clutching your left breast and squeezing the tender flesh harshly, the skin bruising beneath Cioccolata’s touch as you shuddered and mewled for more, “Master, Master, more, please, f-feels ssssssso good, o-oh yes, hahh, mngh, yes yes yesyesyesyes, please, ‘m sorry, be good, be a good Bitch for you, please,” You were steadily becoming less coherent, the pain edging out into pleasure, burning, burning pleasure, tightening the coil in your belly and causing your juices to flow from your pussy like a river. A puddle began to form beneath you, Cioccolata’s balls hitting your clit with wet, meaty slaps, the doctor using you for his pleasure, as his personal little fuck toy, and loving every second that you arched into and relished his awful attention.

“Hmmm, should I forgive you? You’re being such a good Bitch now, but I can’t deny I’m still hurt you’d try to leave me like that,” Cioccolata mused, his thrusting becoming sharper, meaner, his cock reaching so deep inside you it was starting to feel painful again, the tip slamming ruthlessly against your womb. Still, you cried out at the bliss of it, the pleasure in the pain, the ache that settled hard and fast in your gut, threatening to tip you over the edge, “Perhaps I should make you wear one of those special shock collars I ordered for naughty little Bitches, hm? Should I plug you full and make you wear a chastity belt? Put you in one of those sleeping benches and make you stay in there until you’ve learned your lesson, forced to suck your Master and his favourite Pet off while unable to pleasure yourself?” You moaned and jolted with each of Cioccolata’s thrusts, head lolling so much it was like you were nodding along to all of his suggestions, eagerly lapping up whatever punishment the doctor saw fit to give you, “Should I brand you? Should I open that skull of yours and turn you into a mindless little slut? Cut off your arms and legs so all you’ll be is a helpless little fuck toy for your Master?” Each suggestion was crueller than the last, Cioccolata’s feverish purple gaze focused on the camera, grin wide and almost feral as he asked the audience what he should do. You whimpered and mewled, babbling about how you were going to cum, cum on your Master’s cock, begging Cioccolata to let you cum as the doctor continue to fuck you cruelly. There were several pings from the computer, messages being left for the doctor from the other depraved members who watched his content, undoubtedly offering Cioccolata their two cents of what to do with you. 

The doctor laughed, relishing the power he displayed, turning his face to plant a wet kiss to your cheek, sneering when you leaned into the affectionate gesture with a whine of his title, “Hmm, I’ll have to think about it more... but for now,” He grunted, picking up the pace, forcing you against his body tighter as he completely let loose, slamming his cock at breakneck speeds inside you, rutting to reach his completion and fill you with his cum. You wailed at the sensation, thrashing as you tried oh so desperately not to cum without permission, going limp against Cioccolata when he tugged at your hair harshly, snarling, ordering you to, “Cum on your Master’s cock, you dirty little Bitch, I want you to soak the ground beneath you, milk my cock like the desperate whore you are,” You screamed and tumbled over the edge, gurgling and heaving as you came. You squirted all over the ground, broken legs trembling painfully, your cunt tightening like a vice around the thick meat still pounding your poor walls, milking Cioccolata until he slammed into you to the hilt. Thick, burning ropes of white cum spurt inside you, stuffing your ruined pussy until it began to drip around the base of Cioccolata’s cock. Your bruised labia ached as Cioccolata pulled out, the last few spurts coating the soaked folds in the pearly fluid, marking you for the stream audience and forcing your legs to part so they could admire the mess you’d become under Cioccolata’s ‘gentle’ care. Stepping away from you with a sigh, the doctor used his grip in your hair and tug your face down to his waist, sneering at you to clean him up with your worthless mouth, which you did with a whimper. As your tongue trailed over the mixture of your juices and his sticky seed, Cioccolata cheerfully bade goodnight to his audience, his purple gaze promising more content in the future. 

Chapter Text

You heard there was a monster that recently showed around your Pod’s territory.

Darting from cove to cove, you peak around rocks and follow the currents of the waves, sneaking through the edges of your Pod’s borders. While the older and much wiser hunters had warned you to stay close to the centre of your home waters, the gossiping of the other netters poked at your curiosity, “Haven’t you heard? There’s a monster near the western borders,” They’d whispered behind their fins, trying to remain discreet beneath the watchful eyes of the hunters, unwilling to be scolded for entertaining such things as ‘monsters’. Though there had been speculation, none of the other netters had been interested in trying to locate this so-called ‘monster’ besides you.

Perhaps, though, they were right to stay close to home, you thought to yourself, hesitating against moving when your tail cramped yet again, the unfertilised brood in your lower belly moving around slickly in your womb. While the mating season was slowly beginning to sink her claws into your Pod, you were still a few weeks away from having to worry about any of the eggs being viable. As such, they were still small and relatively light inside you, making swimming through the semi-familiar waters around you easy. Every so often, you would pause just a little longer, glance back towards the safety of your Pod, before shaking your head and continuing further. You were just... so darn curious! It had been so long since you’d found the opportunity to sneak away from those that protected the ‘vulnerable’ members of your Pod - AKA, those growing a brood for the upcoming mating season. 

When you were still a guppy, you would have spent hours just swimming around your Pod’s territory, going out to the furthest boundaries you could without being spotted or taken note of. There had been a handful of close calls when you were young, fish and marauding mers posing a threat to you you hadn’t thought of, but nothing you or your Pod’s hunters hadn’t been able to take care of. As you had grown, you had been forced to curb your curiosity and interest in the waters outside of your Pod’s boundaries, especially considering you were meant to be mated with one of the few allies your Pod has. Thinking about it made you grimace slightly, not looking forward to the day you would have to set out and ‘do what’s best for the Pod’. Bah. You wanted to explore! You wanted the freedom of the open ocean, to wander through the currents like a marauder and find your own way.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t take note of the large figure swimming lazily above you, his red-black eyes catching sight of your light and colourful tail. Red, white and black bands shift and shimmered in the light of the sun, your predator watching carefully as you began to encroach upon his hunting territory. Every so often, he would dip above the surface level of the ocean’s waves, inhaling a big lungful of air. While he was a water-dwelling Naga, he did not have the necessary organs to regulate his breathing underwater, though he could last for hours with just one deep breath. He watched, hungry and curious, as you continued to flit from cove to cove, unaware that the monster you were seeking was steadily closing in on you. You were... adorably unaware, the Naga noticed, narrowing his gaze as you finally crossed the boundaries of his territory and moving in to strike. 

Feeling your tail brush against something you didn’t expect, you meep and dart forward, rushing through the nearest cave system to get away from whatever it was. You were so preoccupied with getting away from the thing that had touched you, that you didn’t see the Naga move beneath your body, coiling tightly in one of the secret pockets in the cave system you had entered. His red irises glinted darkly as he took note of the slight swell in your belly, his hunger for a meal shifting into a hunger for something else. He watched as you continued to move through the same four twisting caves, eventually settling back in the centre as your panic stopped. Once you’d made it deep enough inside the cavern that there was barely any light, you glanced back and released a sigh, frustrated that you had let yourself get so worked up. Grumbling to yourself, you turned to head back out of the caves, only to swallow back a fearful scream when something sprung out from the nearby darkness, coiling and looping around your body tightly. You tried to thrash and struggle, only to feel as if all of the breath in your body was suddenly crushed from your lungs, leaving you to simply squeak breathily. The only part of your body that remained relatively free and that you could use to cause some damage were your hands, but when you poised them to claw at your attacker, they released a low growl by your ear, large, rough hands gripping yours tightly and forcing you still, “Don’t test me, tesoro.” 

A soft, terrified noise was ripped from your throat as you slowly started to realise you were very, very much in danger. Was this the monster everyone had been warning you against? Black spots danced in your vision as you fought to inhale even a tiny bubble of air, but the muscular coils surrounding kept you from doing so. A high pitched whimper of fear was all you could make, your mind fizzling in and out of consciousness. You felt water brush against the parts of your skin still exposed through the coils of the monster, their body undulating against - around? Beside? - yours. Oh no no no no no no, this was a terrible idea! You couldn’t let them drag you away from your Pod’s territory to wherever it was they planned to stash you for a snack! But you couldn’t even begin to try and squirm out of the monster’s grip, rapidly losing whatever air remained in your lungs, completely unaware that the darkness enshrouding your vision was not from the lack of air, but from a different cave. It was much smaller than the one you had gotten lost in, cosy one could say, and most importantly, it could be closed off by the Naga from the outside. When you were released from his coils, there was a moment where you were simply limp, inhaling air as deeply as you could and trying to recover. When you realised that you were free, you immediately tried to swim away, only for the larger Naga to hiss sharply and herd you deeper into the cave, until your back struck the stone wall, “N-No-no! Leave me alone - what do you want from me-!” You squeaked as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, the tail of the monster trying to wrap around yours. You reared back, using your claws to scratch at his face, barely managing to nick the skin of his nose before he could grab and pin you to the wall behind you.

“Stay still - stay fucking still or I’ll make sure you’ll regret it, little fish,” The Naga hissed, wrapping you in his arms and forcefully tangling his body around yours. You wailed in fright when you felt his fangs scrape against your tender neck, the action making you go slack in his arms. You trembled, held in the strong, deadly arms of your predator, frightened of what the beast would be capable of now that he’d dragged you somewhere away from your Pod. Of course, it was partly your fault for having snuck off in the first place - but that didn’t change the fact that you were stuck here now. Feeling you shake but remain still, the Naga rumbled softly, petting the back of your head to try and soothe you, unaware that his actions just caused more anxiety to bloom in your gut, “Good, good, shhh, I won’t hurt you,” He murmured, his voice a deep rumble, vibrating against your chest and belly as he slowly lowered both of you into a bed of mossy algae. You went tense but stopped yourself from thrashing again, especially with how close the Naga’s face still was to your neck, “Just behave and everything will be fine. Shhhhhhh...” Despite yourself, the petting and softness of the Naga’s voice were starting to help you calm down, especially since the immediate danger of being eaten was nothing to worry about. Your mind raced as you tried to think up some reason why the Naga would have hunt you down and dragged you into what could only be his Den.

You were jolted out of your thoughts when big, clawed hands touched your swollen middle, your unfertilised clutch moving lightly beneath your skin. You swallowed down the building nausea at the back of your throat, wide (E/C) eyes looking up into the (admittedly handsome) face of your attacker, “What do you want from me?” You managed to ask weakly, your hands frozen above your head, unwilling to make the slightest mood lest the Naga feel you planned to attack him. You winced when he rumbled and ducked his head down, nuzzling his face against yours in a gesture you would usually think was affectionate. Slowly, it began to dawn on you that the Naga seemed to be performing some kind of courting ritual - one that was uncomfortably familiar to you - and you whined and squirmed, turning your face away from his in rejection, “P-Please, I’m s-sorry, just want to go home,” You whispered as he snarled at your refusal, one hand gripping your chin and forcing you to continue allowing him to mark you with his scent.

“No,” He murmured simply, pressing a small kiss to your lips, lingering for several long moments before finally pulling away, an expression of satisfaction colouring his face, “You’re already home, little fish. You’ll be staying here while I court you before mating season begins,” You inhaled sharply and shook your head, slowly moving your hands to try and push him off of you. Surprisingly, he relented with a sigh, sharp from edging the corners of his lips down, a calculating look entering his dark gaze, “But you’re probably hungry from swimming for so long. You’ll need a steady supply of food to make more eggs,” The Naga murmured, seemingly half to himself as he headed towards the exit of the cave. Your heart leapt into your throat, thinking maybe you could make a break for it while he was gone, only for that hope to die when the Naga dragged a huge boulder to cover the exit of the cave, “You’ll be safe here, little fish. Be good for me and I’ll make sure your stay will remain comfortable.” 

You shivered at the Naga’s words, curling miserably up in the centre of the nest as the unnamed beast left to hunt. As he swam away, Risotto’s lips curled in a soft, content smile - it seemed he had made the right choice to move so close to a Pod of Merpeople. His little mate was absolutely perfect for him. 

Chapter Text

Josuke Higashikata was one of the kindest, sweetest men you had ever had the fortune to meet.

Josuke Higashikata was a close friend, someone you could depend on no matter what was going on in your life.

Josuke Higashikata is an honourable man, taking over his grandfather’s ‘duty’ to the little town of Morioh, despite leaving regularly to attend college outside of it.

Josuke Higashikata’s significant other would be the luckiest person in the world - they would be loved, cared for and would never have to worry about anything besides loving their sweetheart, Josuke.

Yes, to most in the little town of Morioh, Josuke Higashikata was practically a saint. When he was in the neighbourhood, he’d make sure everyone was safe. He’d make sure the local kids had a ‘big brother’ to depend on. He’d hang around with his ragtag group of friends and goof around, playing lighthearted pranks and pulling laughter from all those he’d meet. 

To most, he was the living embodiment of the perfect man - Atlas, holding the world on his shoulder, Adonis’ smile gracing his handsome face as he looked at anyone with the gentleness of Orpheus, telling you ‘everything is going to be okay’.

Josuke Higashikata was one of Morioh’s most successful paramedics. No one had died while under his care - nothing short of a miracle. They said he had Midas’ golden touch, that his hands were so large and so gentle as they held those of a dying patient, infusing them with the will to survive. 

Josuke Higashikata was, by all intents and purposes to everyone in Morioh, the perfect man.

To you, Josuke Higashikata was and insane, jealous and terrifying monster.

Your hands clench around the knife you held, the bloody chopping board hitting the sharpened end with dull, satisfying ‘thunks’ as you cut the beef Josuke had bought into little bite-sized chunks. The skin of your palms stung painfully from how tightly you gripped the object, forcing you to grit your teeth and hold back the urge to cry. Onions and garlic simmered in a nearby pot, the heavenly, savoury smell coiling in your lungs with each laboured inhale you managed to take. Your stomach grumbled hungrily, but you ignored it, scraping the cut-up beef into the pot with the onions and garlic, the satisfying hiss of the meat’s juices interacting with the heat. You glanced up at the time and grimaced - 5.30 p.m. ... no doubt your ‘fiance’ would be coming home soon. A shudder rushed down your spine at the thought, one of your hands reaching up to wipe the clammy sweat from your brow. A wave of dizziness overcame you and you leaned down, gulping in air desperately and trying to get the room to stop spinning. The painful throbbing between your shoulder blades seemed to match the beating of your heart and you fumbled over to the nearby sink to grab yourself a glass of water.

Sipping the cool liquid, you sighed and continued to lean against the kitchen countertops until everything finally went still once more. You knew you should have used that damn cream Josuke left you - but you had been in too much pain throughout the day to get up out of bed, let alone use that damned cream wand he’d left in the bathroom for you. Shaking your head, you moved to finish taking care of the stew, knowing that there would be hell to pay if dinner wasn’t halfway done to being ready when Josuke came back. You quickly opened a can of tomatoes - pureed and already salted, thank god - and poured the full thing into the pot, uncaring whether the food would taste any good while you still desperately tried to stay on your feet. A few cursory sprinkles of some herbs and spices, and you turned the heat of the burner to low, leaving the stew to simmer. Once that was done, you quickly moved to sit on one of the nearby dining chairs, burying your head in your hands while your elbows rest on your knees. Urgh, how had your life spiralled down to this? You were supposed to finish your exchange program in the nearby college before heading back to university to complete your Bachelor's degree. Now you were stuck in some dead-end town, engaged to the common folks’ hero and unable to get yourself out of here. 

You knew you never should have accepted the cute paramedic’s date offer. You knew you had been way too busy with your schoolwork. You knew he was a couple of years older than you really would have liked. But you were stupid and wanted that goddamn whirlwind romantic fling where you’d reminisce about Josuke Higashikata to your grandkids many, many years into the future. You had never intended to stay and marry the guy - but you found you’d had little choice in the manner.

The moment Josuke Higashikata had gotten down in one knee, three months into dating him, in front of a restaurant full of Morioh town residents, you had been doomed to the life he envisioned for the two of you. You had intended to break your ‘relationship’ off that night, too many instances of Josuke just ‘showing up’ wherever you were culminating in your need to get away from him. He moved too fast, loved you too deep and was way, way too clingy towards you for how long the two of you had known each other. The first time he started talking about ‘following’ you while he had a free moment from work, you knew you had to end it or things would end up terrible for you in the long run.

Too bad you’d been way too late. 

The jingle of Josuke’s keys and your fiance’s cheerful whistling broke you out of your despair. Grimacing, you stood from your seat and moved back to the stove, quickly clicking on the rice cooker to start preparing the finishing touches of the evening meal while straining your hearing towards the door. You heard the click of the lock, the rustle of a plastic bag, Josuke calling out a ‘Tadaima!’ before the door shut behind him once more. Biting back a sigh, you monotonously responded, “Welcome home,” as Josuke removed his work boots with a pair of heavy thunks. You tried to stop yourself from flinching, stirring the curry in the pot to prevent it from burning, “I’m in the kitchen. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes,” You continued before Josuke could say anything, hoping your fiance would leave you be, despite knowing he’d be more interested in greeting you ‘properly’ after his time at work. You were right, unfortunately, as he walked into the kitchen and straight to you, leaning down to press a happy kiss to the apple of your cheek. You refused to turn your face to kiss him properly - that was one thing he’d at least allowed you, unwilling to ‘force’ your affection from you when he’d much rather you ‘gave in’ and ‘accepted that the two of you were meant for one another’.

You grimaced when Josuke wrapped his arms around your waist, the taller, stronger man leaning into you, his chest pressed into your back and causing it to throb painfully once more. Luckily, you had braced yourself this time, clenching your grip around the spoon in your hand tightly and biting your tongue to prevent yourself from making another noise, “How’s my pretty fiancee doing tonight, hmm? Were you able to finish that assignment you mentioned last night?” Josuke crooned inquisitively, the slightly smug and careful undertone of his words letting you know that he knew you hadn’t been able to. You had been looking forward to handing that assignment in and booking it out of the city as fast as possible today. 

Unfortunately, because of what he’d done the night before, that had been an impossibility. You sneered and pressed the spoon against a large chunk of tomato, feeling it pop beneath the wooden utensil and imagining it was Josuke’s head instead, “You and I both know I could barely even get out of bed today, Josuke. I was in too much pain from...” You trailed off, gritting your teeth, unwilling to mention the large branding of Josuke’s initials in the middle of your shoulder blades. When it had happened, you’d been delirious from the pain, weeping openly as he’d pressed the hot iron to your skin, marking you possessively as his voice - guttural and sharp - repeated over and over that you were his, you belonged to him, you were his ‘perfect little wife’. The memory was something you desperately wanted to scrub from your mind. You heard him hum and shift slightly, tugging the back of your shirt down so he could see how the brand was healing, frowning when he spotted that the bandaging he’d put over it this morning hadn’t been replaced. Urging you away from the stove, Josuke forced you to lift your arms, your shirt soon being pulled up and off your body, tossed to the side without a care. You shivered slightly and sighed, feeling the tape around the covered wound give way to the black-haired man’s fingers, “Josuke-”

“Shhhhh, darling, let me take a look at it. I need to make sure everything is going well,” Your fiance hummed, tugging off the bandaging, his bright blue gaze slipping up to lock with yours through the hanging utensils above the counter, “Sweetheart, I had to mark you. How else was everyone gonna know you’re mine?” Josuke’s voice is sweet in your ear, the warm fingers of his right hand gently brushing over the still inflamed skin of his initials. He hummed softly, a frown curling his lips as he felt just how hot the skin was, pulling away only slightly so he could check the wound more thoroughly. Seeing how red it was, Josuke sighed and clicked his tongue, taking note of the way you flinched and tried to curl away from him. Disappointment welled deep in your fiance’s chest, something angry and ugly rearing to the front, “Didn’t I tell you you had to take care of it properly? You’re going to catch an infection at this rate,” Josuke seethed, pressing his front against your back, the abrasive material of his work shirt grinding painfully against the brand. You bit your lip to hold in a whimper, struggling to breathe through the nauseating wave until Josuke finally reached the little pot of burn cream he’d been looking for - did he just keep a pot of it everywhere in the apartment? The cold of the cream soothed the burning pain of the mark. 

You can’t help but sigh and lean into Josuke’s touch, your captor feeling his heart thrum in his chest as you seemed to be giving in and trusting him with this intimacy. Truth be told, you were tired - exhausted, even, of fighting Josuke about every little thing. You wanted to leave. You wanted to go back home. You wanted to get away from Josuke and this town that’s placed him on a pedestal and claimed that he can do no wrong. When Josuke finishes rubbing the balm into the brand and covered it up with a new bandage, he lingers with his touch, taking advantage of the few moments before you realised he was done and wrenched yourself away from him as if his touch was what burned you. You muttered something about keeping an eye on dinner and stooped to grab your discarded shirt. Your ‘fiance’ frowns and moves to wrap you in his arms again, though you ignore his attempts at wheedling affection out of you. The paramedic sighs and leans his whole body against you, trying to pull your attention to him as he starts chatting lightly about his day, musing about some grandmother who fell down the stairs or helping a young boy out of a tree. You don’t respond with more than a distracted hum, which aggravates Josuke - he’s half tempted to dig his fingers into the brand, to make you pay attention to him in the only way that matters. The only reason he hadn’t used Crazy Diamond to heal you was so that he’d have an easy point to make you respond to him.

Still, considering the inflamed nature of the brand, it would be best if he refrained from touching it for now. It took a few moments before Josuke pulled away and moved off to go take a shower, sweaty, tired and hungry from his day at work. You paused, waiting for him to step out of the room before you slumped with a sigh. Your (E/C) eyes glanced in the direction of his work coat, the glint of the keys hanging from the slot. An obvious trap - one you wouldn’t spring for. Gritting your teeth, you forced yourself to remain in the apartment, despite the anxiety blooming in the back of your mind, screaming at you to leave while Josuke’s back is turned to you.

But you stayed. You served Josuke Higashikata his dinner when he comes out of the shower. You let him continue rambling as you pick at your plate of food, hungry but unmotivated to eat. You let him drag you to the couch for a ‘chill night in’ after you clean the dishes. You let him wrap his arm around your shoulders and cuddle you into his side, his attention locked on the television screen as you both watched some stupid comedy show you hated. 

You stayed and tried to ignore the slight flutter of your heart when Josuke Higashikata - Morioh's very own 'Hercules' - leans in to kiss you sweetly.

Chapter Text

Everything feels cold.

A shiver rushes down your spine, barely imperceptible compared to how badly you’re already shaking, even surrounded by a pile of cloth and fur. The cool stone of the underwater cave feels like it’s burning through the thick layers of your ‘nest’ (as Jotaro calls it). Swallowing thickly, you whimper and try to curl up more, desperately trying to preserve at least some of your body heat. At the same time, you kept sweating, your body practically coated and clammy to the touch. 

‘What’s happening to me?’ You can’t help but think, wrapping yourself more firmly beneath the always slightly damp blankets surrounding you. While you were lucky that they somehow never seemed to grow mould, that didn’t mean they were any more comfortable. A pitched whine leaves your throat, the ache in the pit of your stomach becoming worse. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, you needed something, anything, to help you through this awful cold. Where was Jotaro when you needed him? The damned Selkie should be here, taking care of you, like he’d been so desperate to. A choked off whimper echoes through the cave and you can feel your whole body cramp, a slickness between your thighs that catches your attention and makes you aware of the blooming warmth in your belly. 

You whine again and again and again, voice weak and frustrated, one of your hands slipping between your thighs to palm at your sensitive pussy. Your labia feel swollen and painful, throbbing and hot - so, so hot, too hot, you feel like your fingers are going to burn from the heat - your clit plump and erect with need. Even just cupping your cunt in the palm of your hand is enough to shoot bolts of electric pleasure up your spine, your head lolling to the side as you moan gutturally. Your hips move on a rhythm all their own, your feverish mind going foggy with desire from the continued stimulus. Mouth open and drooling, noise keeps slipping from your throat to echo throughout the space you inhabit, the sounds catching Jotaro’s attention at the Selkie returns from his hunt, the courting gift he’d gotten you forgotten. You whine and arch, rocking your hips and cunt against your hand firmly, the pressure in your gut building up to an unbearable degree, a ragged sob leaving your lips. No matter how much you toyed with your pussy, spearing three of your fingers into your cunt at once to rub the pads against your slick walls, nothing worked. You were just left in a feverish haze, constantly on the edge without being able to reach your release.

Jotaro swings himself up through the hole leading to the cave and removes his cloak, his pupils blown wide as he inhales big lungfuls of your desire. You barely notice his return until he tears your coverings from you, growling thickly and forcing you onto your back, thighs pinned to your shoulders by his large, strong grip, “A-ah, Jotaro, Jotaro, p-please,” You whine, tearful (E/C) eyes looking hazily up at the Selkie that had abducted and bitten you, shuddering when the head of his cock ground against your knuckles, his fangs bared in a snarl if frustration as you blocked his entrance. Part of you screams at you to push him away, to keep him from thrusting into your needy heat, filling you to the brim with his monstrous cock, but your instincts have you pulling your fingers from your throbbing walls with a whimper. You’re panting and whining, incomprehensible words falling from your lips like gibberish, your slick fingers wrapping around his girth to pull him closer, closer, closer until the head breaches your cunt, “Yesyesyesyesyesyes, fill me, fill me, it hurts so much, need you inside me, please, please, ‘m so cold, too h-hot, Jotaro please,” Your words barely make sense to him, the Selkie still not completely used to the human tongue, but the insistent grinding of your hips and the way your pussy so easily accepts the broad head of his dick is enough to have him thrust into you to the hilt. 

Stars burst in your mind and you arch weakly as you cum from the feeling of being filled. You’re sobbing and shaking, your hands digging into Jotaro’s shoulders and desperately pulling him down closer, your inner walls milking his huge cock for dear life. You feel stuffed to the brim, your rational mind fully aware that it should hurt, that you had been far from prepared for the Selkie’s impressive length and girth, but you were delirious at the relief that briefly washed through your feverish form. You shake apart beneath Jotaro, who patiently holds still, waiting for your cunt to stop squeezing his cock, his fangs gritted and glinting in the low light, a thunderous growl rolling around the small cave and making you vibrate from the inside out. You whimper when he shifts positions, pinning you firmly to the floor beneath you, your pelvis tipped up and your upper back forced to take the full weight of your and Jotaro’s bodies as the Selkie bent you in half. You felt breathless, head spinning with desire and the need for more, more, more echoing through you, pussy clutching and swallowing around Jotaro and encouraging the Selkie to roll his hips in slow, shallow dips, “That’s it, just give in to me, love,” Jotaro growls, finally managing to clear his mind of your scent enough to speak, the head of his dick continually nudging - practically massaging in all honesty - the entrance to your womb, prodding the back of your cunt as his balls rubbed the soft curve of your ass.

“Jotaroooooooooo,” You whine breathily, eyes wide and starry, mouth open in a continuous moan, the black-haired Selkie chuckling at the absolutely wrecked image you made beneath him. You were so pretty, so perfect, so his that he couldn’t help but pull out and thrust back into you, watching you keen and writhe beneath him. While he knew you would be angry with him for going back on his ‘promise’ to you regarding your courtship, he couldn’t find it in himself to care as he steadily built a hard, slow pace, rutting into your slick, hot cunt and relishing the tightness of your fluttering walls. You whimpered and whined, bucking up into his movements, head tipped back to try and gasp for breath as his cock repeatedly punched the air from your lungs each time he slammed into you, “So good, so good, yes yes yes, more, please, wanna feel more, need more, please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease,” Your babbling was cute to Jotaro who growled and hummed, purred and rumbled, his blue gaze locked on the space where his cock disappeared into you, the slick skin shining in the light before it was swallowed up by your needy hole. If you were in the right frame of mind, you would have struggled and cried, trying to get away, knowing that if Jotaro leaned in and bit you that it would all be over - you would be tied to him, claimed by him, unable to return to the surface. All your hard work rejecting his ‘romantic’ advances would be for nothing, his Pod keeping you trapped here when he’d go out to hunt. You would never be allowed anywhere without his constant presence, the Selkie jealous of any attention that wasn’t his, and you knew you would break and give in to him sooner than later.

But all of that was pushed aside in favour of the pleasure rushing through your body, the tight coil the built up in the pit of your gut once more, Jotaro’s steady thrusts working you up to another hard orgasm. It was almost too much, your pussy becoming impossibly sensitive as you tried to tighten around him like a vice, eager to keep that wonderfully thick dick inside you until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your addled mind was lost in an ocean of sensation, Jotaro using his greater strength and the dominance he held over you to continue steadily rutting into your cunt, fangs flashing above you as he fucked your messy, wet cunt through your second release. You could barely hear his growling, his words thick with lust as he stared down at you. While he was content not to bite you (yet), that didn’t stop him from marking you in other ways - digging his claws into your thighs, leaving bruises from his sucking mouth all over your body, nipping the point where he would eventually mark you as his mate; any part of your body that he could bruise to show who you belonged to was placed under constant attention. You felt dizzy and tired as the pleasure began to build up once more, your cunt throbbing around Jotaro’s dick, eager to feel the Selkie spend himself inside you as his smooth motions ground the head over your g-spot. Seeing that you were barely hanging on by a thread, your third orgasm bearing down on you all too quickly, Jotaro grunted and shift your positions once more, draping his body against yours, his chest forcing your thighs against your shoulders as his arms wrapped around your back, pinning you to him and practically smothering you with his body, “Cum for me, cum for me, my mate, perfect, you’re mine, mine, cum for me,” Jotaro snarled, slanting his lips over your moaning mouth to drink in your whiny noises.

You a muffled wail, you did exactly as Jotaro ordered, your whole body tensing and shuddering against his as you came one final time, your vision starting to go dark and blurry with tears. Jotaro grumbled and thrust one last time inside you, forcing his cock into you to the hilt and painting your insides with his sticky cum, marking you primally, his scent covering your whole body as he pumped you full of his seed. You broke the kiss with a high pitched mewl, gasping and drying, tears spilling down your flushed cheeks from how overwhelmed you felt, how sensitive and almost painful your cunt felt as it was bathed in Jotaro’s spend. The Selkie rumbled and rubbing his cheeks against yours, purring praises into your ears as you slowly blacked out, whimpering weakly as Jotaro began to grind his hips in sinuously circles against yours, stirring his thick cum inside your poor, overworked pussy.

You would wake up the next morning, sore, exhausted and spent, Jotaro front plastered to your back, his coat draped over the two of your while he continued to sleep. For just a moment, you would entertain the thought of slipping from his arms to drown yourself in the nearby water, effectively ending your torment right then and there. But Jotaro’s grip around you was firm, his face buried in the back of your neck, and you knew that even the slightest movement would wake him up immediately. So you sighed and allowed yourself to doze, face sticky and stinging from your tears, body bruised and throbbing, wondering to yourself if Jotaro would ever actually let you leave. 

Chapter Text

“Hey, (Y/N), you’re looking a little lonely tonight! You mind if I share a drink with you, caro?”

“Melone? The hell are you doing here - shouldn’t you be out on a job with Illuso?”

“We finished up early and the others let me know where you’d be tonight. Mmmmh, you look so good like this, carino, all dressed up in a sharp suit, makes me think about what you’d look like all dishevelled and half-dressed while sprawled out on my sheets-”

“Melone, we talked about this. You’re not my type and I’m not in the mood to entertain your nonsense while I’m out on a job. Buzz off.”

Aw, c’mon, what’s a drink between two co-workers, hmm? You know I’m good for it~! Besides, I can take a hint - I know you aren’t interested in me. Just one drink and I promise you won’t regret it~! Besides, I don’t think your target’s gonna be coming out here tonight, Gelato told me to relay the info to you.”

“...[Sighs] Fine, one drink - but that’s it. I still have to get home tonight and I’d rather not wake up hungover.”

“Ohohoho, don’t you worry about a thing, bambino~! I know just what you need...”

You never should have let Melone buy you a drink, is all you can think to yourself when your eyes slowly blink open to the sight of a quiet dark room. The memory of the lavender haired man’s pouting face swirls in your mind, his lips painted a light mauve and eyes lined with kohl as he flutters his lashes up at you, handing you your third cosmo of the night. A groan vibrates in the pit of your chest, head lolling to the side while you tried to calm the hazy swirl of your thoughts - you felt clammy and hot, and wondered idly if your slimly built co-worker had slipped something to ‘loosen you up’ into your drink. The thought makes you grumble, your lips curling in a grimace as waves of pain wash through your head, forcing you to become more aware of your surroundings as (E/C) eyes flutter open once more. Feeling another throb of pain in your temples, you move to rub at them, only for your hands to remain stationary above your head. Something hard and leather feels like it’s wrapped around your wrists, which draws your eyes up to your arms. You grimace at the sight of the thick leather bondage gear tied not only around your wrists but your upper arms and up to your elbows as well. Fuck. Shit. Whoever had done this knew exactly what they were doing. Panic was beginning to set in - did Melone lie to you about your target not coming out to drink? You wouldn’t put it past the lavender haired man to put his selfish desires before your safety, but that was honestly your bitterness talking. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm down, brows furrowed in concentration as you try to remember how you and why you were here, before a sharp thrill of pleasure draws your attention down between your spread thighs. 

You choke on the sight of long, silky lavender hair framing Melone’s soft face, the slimmer man’s bright blue eyes locking with your (E/C) ones when you looked down, “M-Melone?!” You grunted in surprise, watching as his lips - spread wide around the girth of your cock, his mouth halfway down the thick flesh and continuing down, down down until his nose is pressed into the thick curls at the base - quirk up in a delighted smile. You shudder when you feel Melone groan hotly, the vibrations in his throat and on his tongue shooting aroused pleasure straight to your core, “O-oh fuck, fuuuuuuck, hahh, w-wait, Melone, stop, why-” Your head tips back as your eyes slam shut, a guttural sound ripping itself from your throat when you felt the tight grip of his throat massage your dick, the pretty man between your thighs swallowing down thick spurts of your pre-cum with ease. Fuck, fuck, fuck, does Melone not have a gag reflex? All your previous partners had struggled at taking your cock down their throats, even though you didn’t have a monster dong like your Capo or that newbie Prosciutto’s got his hands full with. You can barely bite back the whine that’s building up in the back of your throat, your cheeks flushing darkly when Melone gurgles and moans around your cock. Suddenly, his words from earlier ring through your mind, a burst of desire tingling at the base of your cock, the skin smothered by Melone’s plush lips feeling hot and sticky with a mixture of the lavender haired man’s spit and your pre-cum, “Oooooohng, fuck meeeeeee,” You moan throatily, arching your back what little you could and trying to clench your thighs around Melone’s head, only to feel the same thick leather-wrapped up to your knees as well.

You were well and truly stuck. Pinned and tied to the unfamiliar bed, helpless but to let Melone do as he pleased. You wondered how the hell he’d managed to get you here - you knew he was strong, despite his lithe appearance, but even Melone would have struggled to carry you to wherever the two of you are by himself. Your mind is too fuzzy from whatever he’d given you to think properly, and the pleasure from Melone’s mouth isn’t helping. You feel your assaulter swallow around your cock again, his tongue poking from behind his lower lip to trail sloppily between your balls, soaking the taut skin with his thick drool and making a damp mess beneath your ass, “Hahh, oh g-god, mmh, fuck, Melone, hahh, y-your mouth - ‘s too hot - oh fucking hell, hahh, hahh,” Your words are slurred and disjointed, wanting to tell the other man to get off and untie you. There’s a soft, wet sound beneath the ones Melone makes as he sucks you off, the wet swallowing of his mouth and throat distracting you from the slick noises of Melone working himself open with his fingers. The lavender haired man shudders when you groan, the musky taste of you lingering deliciously on his tongue, thick virile seed coating his taste buds and making Melone wish he was capable of carrying your children. If his mouth was free, he’d no doubt be telling you exactly this - crudely mocking you by whimpering about how perfect you’d be when paired with his Stand, what good Baby Face Juniors your perm would make when paired with whatever fucking zodiac came to his damned mind. 

Fuck. Fuck you hated him so much, hated how smug and blissed-out his expression was as he continued to drool, suck and swallow your cock to the base, even as he drooled like a spoiled brat. You wished your hands were free so you could bury them in his hair, rip those silky strands from his head as you pulled him away. If you were cruel, you might even just jerk off on his face before leaving him there like a used slut. No. No, he’d like that, the little bastard, you thought, gritting your teeth to try and hold back your noises of pleasure, which only made Melone double down. The other man’s mouth began to move up and down your cock in slick strokes, tongue rubbing against the underside, teasing the thick veins that throbbed almost painfully against the flat-bladed muscle. You wanted to snap at Melone and curse him out for attacking his own teammate in this manner, taking advantage of your vulnerability to take what he wanted from you, consequences be damned. When you got free from your bindings, you were going to kill the lavender haired twink for this - Risotto could punish you however he saw fit, but you weren’t going to let Melone get away with- “Oh fuck, gonna cum, gonna fucking cum, yes, yes, there right fucking there, a-ah!”

You can feel the coil in your abdomen tighten, your balls jerking as Melone pushes his mouth down. There’s a twinkle of mischief in his bright eyes, a hunger that tells you he’d love to feel you cum down his throat. Your muscles tense, back arches just the slightest bit, your eyes going hazy as your release bubbles up, up, up - only to be stopped harshly, Melone’s thumb roughly pressing against the underside at the base of your cock, his touch precise enough to cut off your orgasm with ease. You release a choked off whine of his name, your voice reedy with need as the other man hums and pulls up until only the tip of your cock remains in his mouth. Melone’s eyes wander your tense figure, the furrow of your brow, admiring how your usually tense and stoic face was washed with desperation, anger and lust before pulling off of you completely with a pop. You breathe heavily through your denied release, your teeth gritted and bared angrily, aroused glare firmly in place, “Melone,” You growl, watching the lavender haired man shiver and whimper at the darkness in your tone, his back arching and the wet noises of his fingers thrusting inside his asshole, stretching himself in preparation, become more obvious, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let me cum and untie me from this bed right. Fucking. Now,” You hiss, jerking your hips to try and dislodge his hand from your cock, which only made Melone wrap his fingers around the girth and jerk it.

“Oh, carino, you just look so pretty like this,” Melone’s voice is soft and breathy, his mouth popping off of your cock, trail of spit and pre-cum connecting his plush lips to your wet tip. You gasped and moan thickly, shaking your head and trying to push away from the lavender haired man, tears glimmering in your eyes. Fuck, you needed to cum, you so, so desperately needed to cum. Melone, however, chuckled, his slim fingers clenching around the base of your cock, bright gaze locked on the girth as it bobbed and drooled thick pre-cum, painting your skin with the pearly fluid, “Hmmm, I know you said you weren’t in the mood, bambino - that I’m not your type, but it’s okay! It’s okay to love me, (Y/N),” Melone pouted, allowing the head of your cock to rest against his lips, the tip of his tongue playing with your slit. His eyes were wide, feverish and sincere, something dark and hungry colouring his expression as he blew cool air against your flushed, sensitive skin, “Please love me, caro... I could be so good for you... I’ll let you use my pretty mouth whenever you’d like, just kneel under your desk and keep it all wet and warm down my throat,” The lavender haired man’s voice became pitched and whiny, a shudder of revulsion rocking up your spine as his tone grated against your ears. Gods, you hated him, you hated Melone so much - and yet, you couldn’t help but get harder at his words, the vein on the underside of your cock pulsing to the rhythm of your heartbeat. You growl thickly, frowning when the other man clambered atop you, releasing his grip around your cock when he was sure you wouldn’t cum immediately afterwards and ruin all his hard work.

There was no denial that Melone was a beautiful man. You watched, angry and aroused, as he sinuously crawled up your body, his smiling lips pecking your pursed ones before leaning back, lithely muscled body in full display as he ground back against the hard, leaking length of your cock. Your eyes catch sight of his slim dick, the flushed tip bobbing and drooling copious amounts of pre-cum, giving away just how turned on Melone was with your predicament. Finally, finally, the lavender haired man had you exactly where he wanted you, Melone thought, slightly delirious with the pleasure that rushed up his spine as the fat head of your cock rubbed slickly against his stretched hole, “I got myself all open and wet for you, Daddy,” He coos, ignoring the way you flinched at the ‘pet name’ right hand moving between his thighs to grip your throbbing girth, holding it still as he wiggled his hips back and pressed down, a full-body shudder rocking Melone’s figure as the head popped into him. He moaned, pitched and soft, the raw, naked, slick skin of your cock rubbing oh so intimately against his soft inner walls, “Mmmh, you don’t mind if we don’t use a condom, right, Daddy? I’m clean and I know you are too - s’not like you can get me pregnant anyway,” Melone pouted, a mou of discontent briefly twisting his pretty face into something dark and angry, before his expression turned back to that sickeningly loving one he’d had the entire time he was sucking you off. You groaned from the centre of your chest, watching with wide eyes as Melone slowly sunk down your cock, his lube coated hand resting over his slim belly, cupping the barely-there bulge your cock made in his body, “Ooooh, Daddy, look at how big you are inside me~! You can see your cock through my belly, can’t you? Mmmh, I wish your hands were free so you could feel it too.”

 You inhale sharply at Melone’s words, your (E/C) eyes straying from his face to where his hips bet yours, the lavender haired man’s ass grinding against your upper thighs and balls as he got used to the stretch of your cock inside him. Finally, he sighed softly, happily, using his position above you to plant his feet flat on the mattress on either side of your hips, slowly dragging his body up until only your tip remained inside his fluttering asshole, before harshly plunging back down, drawing a shout of his name from your lips as a wail of pleasure spilled from Melone’s throat, “Fuck!” You spat through gritted teeth, growling at the back of your throat when Melone set a hard, fast, jerky pace, the slim man gripping your upper thighs to use them as leverage while he rode you. You snarled when you felt his manicured nails dig painfully into the skin, your hips jerking up on every downwards motion, forcing your cock impossibly deeper into Melone’s ass, “Fuck, fuck you, god, hahh, ffffffuck,” You grunted, unable to think straight (ha) long enough to come up with something more creative, whatever Melone had used to drug you combined with the pleasure to make your thoughts muggy and incomplete. Above you, Melone moaned and whined, mouth flapping as he repeated ‘Daddy, Daddy, oh so good, fuck me, fuck me, fuck my tight ass harder Daddy,’ over and over like a mantra as he used your cock like his personal toy, riding you as if his life depended on it. You followed your instincts to fuck into the tight, wet heat around your sensitive prick, eager to cum after having been denied before, your lidded eyes slamming open wide when Melone shifted his position to lean up and wrap his slim hands around your neck, drawing your wide blown eyes to his face.

“Fuck me harder - don’t you dare cum inside me before you get me off, Daddy,” Melone snarled, his bright blue gaze feverish as he spoke, the movements of his hips becoming harder, less rhythmic, Melone’s cock bouncing as he rode you. You gasped and choked as the other man cut off your air, his grip tightening and loosening around your throat whenever he felt your cock twitch or thrust against his prostate, Melone moaning even as he glared down at you, “You’re not allowed to cum until you’ve made me spend myself all over your chest, do you hear me, Daddy? You feel so fucking good, I wanna cum without touching myself, wanna cum just from feeling your fat cock ruin my insides,” The lavender haired man’s words were practically sobbed from how turned on he was, hiccups spilling from him as you continued to roughly pound up into his hole every time he slammed down on you, his ass swallowing your dick with ease and clenching whenever you grazed his prostate. Melone wanted this to last forever, he never wanted the feeling of you buried inside his ass to end, was so desperate to cum yet disappointed and unwilling to have this end so soon. He’d just have to keep you, Melone thought feverishly as he tightened his grip around your trachea, forcing you to breathe heavily and work for your release, your eyes nearly rolled back beneath your lids from the lack of oxygen you inhaled; he’d just have to hide you away from the other members of the team and keep you tied up, fucking you and kissing you and sucking you off until you loved him. Melone mewled at the idea, imagining how sweet it would be to hear you say those words, to hear your deep voice filled with tenderness and adoration as you- ”Tell me you love me, Daddy. Tell me you love your Melone, I wanna hear you say it.” 

The lavender haired man snarled, loosening his grip around your throat long enough for you to moan breathily, completely out of it, unable to do anything except give the man riding you, the man giving you such terrible, incredibly pleasure, what he so desperately wanted, “Love you - I love you, Melo,” You barely managed to breathe out before your air was cut off once more, Melone sobbing and whining ‘Daaaaaaaddy,’ as he slammed down onto your cock once, twice more before going still, his slim cock twitching as he painted your chest and belly with thick ropes of pearly white cum. You gasped sharply, the tight, milking pressure of Melone’s ass drawing you over the edge in a harsh burst of pleasure so intense you immediately knocked out afterwards. Melone was left straddling your hips, reeling from the overwhelming pleasure of feeling your hot, sticky seed pumping into his guts, coating his ass with your virile seed as his release tapered off to a few weak, pathetic twitches, cum drooling from his slit and marking you primally with his seed. Melone felt a deep satisfaction, fully and warm from your intimate actions, a sigh of happiness spilling from his lips as he released his grip on your throat, sprawling out on top of you, coating his chest and belly with his own cooling cum as yours dripped lazily from his hole. He shuddered and mewled the ‘pet name’ he’d given you, uncaring that you couldn’t hear him now that you were unconscious, your spent cock slipping out of his abused hole. He desperately tried to push your leaking cum back inside his ass, a delirious part of his mind - one not completely sound and rational at the moment - telling him that he needed to keep your cum inside himself, needed to make sure that your virile deposit would stick.

When Melone came back to himself fully, he pulled off of you and sighed in satisfaction, pressing soft kisses to your slack face with a hum. You may not love him yet... but Melone was sure that would soon change. 

Chapter Text

Sometimes you loathed your father for his gambling addiction. Truly, deeply hated him. As you walked through the back gardens of the Joestar estate, you try desperately to ignore the feeling of piercing blue eyes on you. You knew you shouldn’t have worn your mother’s dress tonight - it had always been just a little too tight for you, forcing your breasts up and together in a way that drew far too many eyes. Part of you suspected your father had suggested you wear this dress to catch Lord Joestar’s eye, but you tried to squash that feeling. While the relationship between you and your father was strained due to your mother’s recent death and your father’s increasingly worrying gambling addiction, you doubted he would be so bold as to pawn off his only daughter.

There was just no way, you thought to yourself, pausing in front of the late Lady Joestar’s memorial statue, your eyes roaming her beautiful features, your brows furrowing in concern. Right? Your father may be a fool, but he was not a cruel one... especially to offer you to a grieving widower with two children. Shaking your head, you hear the soft footfalls of someone following you, a chill of fear rushing down your spine as Lord Joestar’s soft, rumbling voice calls out to you, “Lady (Y/N),” You turn to face the tall, broad, intimidating man, fighting the urge to flinch and cower away from his intense blue gaze. Though Lord Joestar’s expression was gentle, the scruff around the lower half of his face belying his well put together stature, there was a barely hidden hunger in the pits of his blue eyes. You wrap your arms around yourself for comfort and tilt your head lightly, carefully keeping your gaze turned down and away from Jona-Lord Joestar’s heated gaze, “Ah, apologies for startling you, my love. You seemed to have gotten yourself quite lost,” You couldn’t stop the flinch you made at the sweet pet name, warily watching Jonathan offer his hand to you, broad palm looking inviting yet terrifyingly demanding in the low moonlight, “The groundskeeper told me you would be out here.”

You had been at the Joestar mansion for the past three days and you were reaching the end of your rope. Lord Joestar had been pursuing you - you think, at least, that he has - from the moment you and your father had arrived at Jonathan’s invitation. He had told you to call him Jonathan, his smile soft as he held your hands, pulling you uncomfortably close to his large, muscular body. If you hadn’t heard of the power Lord Joestar held, you might have been flattered, swooning even... but the way he looked at you, how he didn’t correct his children from referring to you too familiarly, the way he’d had you sit next to him at the dinner table and rested one of his broad hands on your inner thigh - you couldn’t handle it. Clearing your throat, you placed your hand in his, biting back a wince when he gripped your hand tightly, his large thumb rubbing against the exposed skin of your inner wrist all too intimately, “Ah, my apologies, I was just exploring the grounds. You have such a beautiful garden, Lord Joestar,” You murmur, purposefully glancing towards the memorial statue of Lady Joestar. Jonathan hummed, his gaze straying to Erina, something loving and warm flitting across his face.

“Isn’t it? My late wife designed the garden before she passed,” Jonathan spoke softly, his eyes locked on Erina’s statue for several long seconds before he shook his head, tugging you forwards and linking your arm through the crook of his elbow, “While the gardens are lovely when I saw you last night... you looked beautiful, stunning - a proper Lady, you know?”Jonathan mused, and you fought the urge to jerk away, knowing that it would just spark anger within the older man, and allowed him to lead you... deeper into the garden? Uh oh. You didn’t trust this. Turning to look up at Jonathan, the older man smiled kindly, though the dark desire in his gaze warned you that you were not going to like where this conversation was about to go, “Since you like the gardens so much, why don’t we go for a walk, hm? There’s something we need to discuss, man to woman, about the... financial stability of your family,” Your heart plummeted to your feet and you nodded, swallowing thickly and following Jonathan as he leads you through the gardens. 

Things were quiet between the two of you as Jonathan lead you deeper and deeper into the gardens, away from the lights and prying eyes of the Joestar manor. You could feel your heart beating loudly in your ears, your fear making itself known in the pit of your gut as Lord Joestar tugged you into a nearby hidden cache, his larger body crowing you against the surprisingly sturdy hedges. When he ducked down to brush his lips against yours, you jerked away, trying to press yourself deeper into the foliage, hoping that the bushes would open up to swallow you whole and take you away from Jonathan Joestar, the only man you’ve ever felt such terror towards, “Please, Lord Joestar, don’t - this is highly improper. What if someone sees us? Your grief is blinding you,” You said softly, your hands resting on Jonathan’s wide chest, the feeling of his heart beating calmly beneath your palms sending your pulse skyrocketing in terror. You tried not to show how afraid you were, the slight shake in your voice easily attributed to nerves, flinching when the older man’s broad palms slid up to cup your hips comfortably. You felt sick, bile crawling up the back of your throat, realising how helpless you were in comparison to Jonathan’s strength; it was only his kind nature that stopped him from simply taking you, the black-haired man wanting you to give in and let him take you as he pleased, “Please, sir, there’s - there’s no reason for you to do this. People will talk.”

Jonathan hummed, his large thumbs rubbing light circles into the cloth over your hips, the action drawing a full-body shiver as the Lord pressed himself into you more firmly, “Hush, dearest, haven’t I told you to call me Jonathan? Shhh, there’s no need to be so frightened,” Jonathan cooed, one of his hands reaching up to your face to cup your right cheek, thumb brushing away the stray tear that slipped down your cheek, his warm mouth coming down to press a tender kiss to your lips, “While I shall always grieve for my dear Erina, I know she would have wanted me to move on. Our boys deserve a mother figure in their lives - and from the moment I laid eyes on you so long ago I knew you would be perfect for us,” Your heart skipped a beat, (E/C) eyes going wide in shock at Jonathan’s words, the black-haired man giving you a sympathetic, yet excited look, “I invited your father to... discuss his situation, what with all the gambling. You realise he owes my family quite a bit of money, no? I’ve allowed him to borrow money from me to pay off his gambling debts for quite a while now, but he just keeps using it to fuel his addiction,” You flinched, ducking your head down, feeling the tears well in your eyes as Jonathan leaned further into you, the bulge at the front of his pants obvious, his cock hard and throbbing against your soft belly. You couldn’t bite back a fearful whimper when Jonathan kissed the top of your head, his voice barely louder than a whisper as he continued to speak, “Of course, I’ve had to cut him off. You understand, don’t you? It’s such a shame I’ll have to take him to court over this. I hate to make another family destitute over something that could be handled privately,” You barely managed to choke off a sob, the realisation of what Jonathan was suggesting finally drilling into your mind. Oh gods... oh gods, you were being pawned off to Lord Joestar. Oh, gods damnit.

Jonathan’s grip on your cheek draws your eyes back up, forcing you to look up into his bright, sympathetic gaze. You wanted to reach up and throttle him, to scream that he could go to the depths of hell with his ‘kindness’, that he was a foul, loathsome pervert - but you kept your vitriol to yourself, “I could make your father’s debt to me disappear oh so easily, my sweet (Y/N),” Jonathan whispered, his eyes flashing darkly as they lingered on your lips, his hips starting to grind against yours, forcing you to feel just how big and thick he felt, even under the layers of clothing he wore, “Your father could live comfortably for the rest of his life with the funds I have at my disposal, love. All I ask if for something of... equal value,” With the way Jonathan’s eyes roamed your figure, his lust clear and bright on his rugged, handsome face, you knew exactly what it was he wanted. You tried to think quickly, tried to come up with a counteroffer, but you knew you had nothing to your name besides your body, youth and unmarried status. The realisation that there was nothing you could do, that you could either fall to poverty, your family’s good name smeared by your father’s debt, or you could give Jonathan what he wanted: a new wife. A new mother for his children. A happy little family to make up for the monetary strain your father was, no matter how small that strain on the Joestar fortune was. A hitched breath caught itself in the back of your throat as Jonathan leaned further into your space, his warm, soft lips catching yours in a hungry kiss. You yielded, nervous but submissive, your lips parting for his tongue to fill your mouth, the muscle mapping out the soft, warm cavern as a needy groan spilt from Jonathan’s chest, the sound vibrating against you and causing your nipples to harden. You whimpered, tears spilling down your cheeks like rivers, tipping your head back as Jonathan devoured your mouth, stealing the breath from your lungs and the first kiss you had ever had. 

When he pulled away, your eyes fluttered open to stare up at Jonathan, misery and acceptance drawing over your face as you whisper a soft, “Please...” begging Jonathan not to do this. When his hands cupped your shoulders and pressed lightly, however, you went down to your knees without a fight, the cool cobblestones beneath you already beginning to bruise your poor knees. Jonathan slid his hands into your hair, anchoring you in place as you fumbled with his belt and the front clasps of his pants, clumsy in your inexperience, the sight sending a thrill of desire up the Lord’s spine. He could not wait to have you on his wedding bed, writhing beneath him as he pleasured your body, preparing your virgin cunt to take his impressive girth - but for now, he would content himself with your pretty mouth, admiring the gorgeous sight you made beneath him. Your cheeks were wet with tears, stained black from the light kohl you’d painted them with, your skin becoming even messier as his long, thick cock sprung free from its confinement, pre-cum bubbling from the tip to smear against your left cheek as the meaty girth slapped your face. You flinched, whimpering, both of your small hands moving to cup and stroke his cock, your motions slow and uncertain, though Jonathan’s heady groan reassured you that you were doing well. Embarrassingly, you felt a thrill of arousal in the pit of your gut, warmth suffusing your cheeks and the apex of your thighs, the ache settling there causing your thighs to clench together. 

“That’s it, what a good girl you are, my sweet,” Jonathan rumbled, his voice deep and gravelly with lust, his grip in your hair tugging and turning your face so his cock head rested against your soft lips. The plump, pink skin was painted in pearly white as the slit drooled thick globs of salty fluid, Jonathan’s excitement causing the thick cock to produce more pre-cum to stain your pretty lips, “Open your mouth for me - there we go, you’re doing so well, my love. I’ll teach you how best to serve me, (Y/N), to please your husband,” You whimpered at Jonathan’s words, mouth wrapping around the broad head of his dick, your tongue lapping at his drooling slit. You grimaced slightly at the bitter taste, though slowly took more and more of Jonathan’s large cock into your mouth, barely even capable of taking him a quarter of the way before you gagged and pulled back up. A fresh, hot wave of tears spilt from your lips and you sniffled miserably, Jonathan cooing over how cute you were with your mouth around the tip, one of his hands petting your hair to soothe the panic that spiked in your chest, “Oh, shhh, don’t worry darling, we’ll work on that in the future, hush now. Just suck and lick on my cock like a good girl - yes, just like that, mmh,” You pulled off of Jonathan’s cock to lick and kiss your way down the underside, thick spit coating his skin and making the jerking motions of your hands smoother, slicker, easier to stroke the heavy girth. Jonathan groaned when he felt your tongue trail over his full ball, the heavy sack twitching beneath the sweet attention of your mouth, “Gods, that feels so good, you’re a natural, darling, so perfect, mmmh, take them into your mouth now,” You followed Jonathan’s instructions, wincing from the musk that lingered on your tongue and in your nose, trying to ignore the pre-cum that dripped onto your perfectly styled hair. 

Jonathan growled lowly when you suckled and lapped on his balls, rolling the sack gently across your tongue. You wanted to bite down and escape, though you feared that even the slightest graze of your teeth would have Jonathan’s hands squeeze and pop your head like a grape, “That’s a good girl, take them out of your mouth and kiss your way back to the head,” Jonathan’s voice was a deep rumble and you whimpered, rubbing your thighs together, humiliated that you already felt so wet despite the lack of stimulus. You should hate this, you shouldn’t be feeling so aroused from sucking Lord Joestar’s cock, your fear and lust mingling together into a heady combo. You lapped the throbbing girth, reaching the tip and moving to wrap your lips around it once more before Jonathan’s hands tugged harshly at your hair, the stinging pain preventing you from doing as you’d intended. (E/C) eyes flew up to lock with the dark-haired man’s heated blue eyes, his lips pulled back and teeth gritted, “Keep your mouth open for me, my love. I want you to keep stroking my cock, yes, oh you’re so sweet, such a precious little wife you’ll be, you follow my instructions so well, beloved,” You couldn’t stop the heat of your cheeks, your tongue hanging out of your mouth, a slick trail of drool dripping from the tip to splatter onto your breasts, spit trailing between your pronounced cleavage. Jonathan groaned at the sight, biting his lower lip as he moved you closer so the thick head rested against the flat blade of your tongue, coating the muscle in thick pre-cum, mixing it with your spit so the pearly fluid also dripped down to your breasts, “That’s it, keep still, so good, such a perfect girl, hahh, mmh, f-fuck, hold still-!”

With two more rough strokes of your hands, Jonathan groaned gutturally as pleasure washed down his spine, thick ropes of sticky cum spurting from his cock in a wave of release. You flinched at the sudden bursts, your tongue practically burning from the heat of the older man’s seed, salty, bitter strands filling your mouth so quickly it began to spill out and onto your chest. You whined, closing your eyes as two, three, four ropes missed your mouth, cock jerking rhythmically as it splattered over your forehead, eyelids and the flushed skin of your cheeks. Jonathan breathed heavily, head tipped back and face slack with relief, your stroking hands coming to a halt around his cock. Eventually, the flow of Jonathan’s thick seed trickled to a halt, the last few weak spurts filling your mouth to the brim, coating every nook and cranny in the bitter fluid. Sighing, Jonathan pulled his cock from your mouth, the softening flesh twitching as he caught sight of the mess he’d left on your face and in your mouth. The older man couldn’t help but trail his thumb over your lower lip, swiping a thick trail of cooling spend from the pink skin and forcing it into your mouth to join the rest, “Closer your mouth,” You immediately did so, hazy (E/C) eyes opening to stare up at Jonathan, watery and bright as your lips wrapped around his thumb. A shudder of lust rocked down his spine, his voice rough as he continued to speak, “Swallow,” watching the bob of your throat as you followed his instructions. Your tongue automatically moved to lap his thumb and the insides of your mouth clean, swallowing the last remainders with little struggle. Your stomach felt full as his cum sloughed down your throat, lukewarm and sticky, nausea rising in the back of your throat as the reality of what had just happened set in, “Good girl. Now open your mouth - I want to see if you swallowed it all,” You whimpered, opening to show off the soft pink and wet flesh to Jonathan.

The dark-haired man smiled and cooed, his praise washing over you and leaving you feeling warm. You closed your eyes and leaned back when Jonathan pulled away, tucking his spent cock back into his breeches. The older man sighed and helped you to your feet, fumbling in his breast pocket to pull out a handkerchief, beginning to wipe your face clean despite your weak protests, “My, my, I certainly know how to make a mess,” Jonathan said with a chuckle, removing the trails of his cum from your face, but leaving the pearly fluid on and between your breasts, his dark blue gaze slipping to admire the sight of the wetness glittering in the moonlight. Shaking his head, he stuffed the dirty handkerchief into his pocket, linked his arm with yours and slowly lead you back to the manor, “We have much to discuss. Your father will certainly be overjoyed to hear that you accepted my proposal. It’s time I properly introduce you to my boys as their new mother.”

Chapter Text

“Amore mia, there you are!”

You bit back a sigh when you heard the voice of the one man you wish you never had to speak to. Ducking your head down, you tried to avoid looking directly at him, hoping he would think you hadn’t heard him speak so you could make a quick getaway. 

Unfortunately, you knew it was far, far too late for that. The flapping of a pair of strong wings sounded directly in front of you, and you came to a sudden stop. You clutched the strap of your shoulder bag tightly, gritting your teeth and swallowing back the vitriol that threatened to spill from your throat before you managed to school your expression into something calm and neutral. Feeling a broad pair of hands cup your shoulders, you jerked back and glared at the one, the only, Caesar Zeppeli, ‘Swan Prince’ as he liked to call himself, ‘Goddamned nuisance of epic proportions’ according to you. Caesar, as always, was unperturbed by your glare, the humanoid bird man cooing happily as he wrapped his arms around you, despite your struggling to get out, “I’ve missed you so much, carina~! You haven’t been to the lake in a while... I was hoping to give you my gift the next time you came,” The golden-haired man pouted, nuzzling his face against the top of your head and inhaling your scent slowly, his bright green gaze fluttering shut in bliss.

“I’ve been busy with work and haven’t had the time to indulge in painting,” You grumbled in annoyance, squirming and bucking to get out of Caesar’s feathery grip, the larger man cooing and snuggling even closer despite your attempts. Your temper flared, fists balling tightly and you had to force yourself to take a deep breath, lest you scream in impotent rage at the amorous swan,” Can you let go of me already?” You snapped, tugging at Caesar’s arms and kicking roughly, your heel barely managing to graze one of the man’s shins. Caesar pouted but did as you said, letting your body slide against his in an obviously deliberate manner. 

Ugh. Ew. And you’d been having such a good day too.

Glaring up angrily at Caesar, you scrunch your nose when you catch a whiff of something musky and unpleasant, fighting back a gag and stepping away from the swan. You noticed, unfortunately, that he seemed to be carrying a large, stained bag, the bottom of it moving and jiggling in a distinctly discomforting manner, “What the hell is that?” You asked warily, eyeing the bag uncertainly as it continued to jerk this way and that. Your mind immediately went to the worst possible options, even as Caesar beamed at you, holding up the bag full of whatever was in there (oh god, it’s alive, it’s alIVE-) and holding it out to you.

Uh. 

No.

“I’m not touching that.”

Caesar’s face fell immediately at your words, a pout twisting his face into something ugly and dark, before he huffed and - this time more insistently - held the bag out to you, “It’s my gift!” You grimaced, gagging as the smell became more pronounced, the twitching in the bag having died down a lot since you first spotted it, “Carina, we’re courting! Since you don’t like my dancing or my singing, I had to ask some of the others that live in the lake!” Other what? What had he asked?! And why was the bag starting to stink like fish?! “One of the selkies suggested I court you with food because you had been so unresponsive to my other attempts. Granted, selkies are foolish creatures who feel the need to give away their coats,” Caesar sniffed, turning his nose up at the idea and sneering in a distinctly unpleasant way, so much so that you had to keep yourself from throttling him, “But, Joseph has it on good authority - in the sense that it worked on Suzi Q - that humans court through giving food to one another. And so, this is my official courting gift!” 

While Caesar’s misunderstanding of ‘human courtship rituals’ would have been funny on any other day, you were less than amused. If he had brought you what you think he’s brought you you were going to lose your shit, “Thanks, I’m allergic,” You immediately say, grimacing as the bag went completely still in Caesar’s grasp. Oh, gross, yeah, gross gross gross, you wanted that bag at least 3000000 feet away from you. The swan man tilted his head, mouthing the word ‘allergic’ in total confusion, which made you want to smack yourself in the face as you tried, desperately, to remain calm and rational, “It means I’ll get sick if I eat it, bird brain. I can’t eat - it’s fish, right? Salmon?” He shook his head, “Trout?” Caesar nodded happily, “Yeah, allergic to fish,” His expression became crestfallen and you wanted to kick yourself. Caesar slumped in disappointment, a moue of discontent colouring his features at the fact his newest scheme hadn’t worked either. Sympathy, tiny and warm, wormed its way into your chest before you squashed it beneath the heel of your intense dislike of Caesar, running a hand over your face, “Listen, Joseph only got the ritual half right; what you need to do is take me out to dinner, which is a non-sequitur because I’d immediately reject you if you asked me out to dinner. Just... just go home, Caesar - there’s plenty of other fish - pun not intended - in the sea... er, lake,” You finished speaking, your expression tired as you turned to start walking, only for the wet, meaty and plastic sounding slap of something being thrown in the opposite direction that you were walking in. 

“I wish you would just let me have you…” You heard from behind you, your whole body flinching in response to the deep sadness in Caesar’s tone. Guilt weighed heavily in the pit of your belly, though you squashed the feeling when you heard feathers ruffle and a pair of arms wrap around your waist. You were pulled back into Caesar’s chest, the golden-haired swan man nuzzling his face into your hair, his nails feeling suspiciously claw-like, “I try so hard, but you’re just so difficult to please, amore. I wish you would just... give me a sign, tell me what you like...  ti amo, mio dolce, fino in fondo alla mia anima. Tu sei l'unico per me*,” He murmured, his words unintelligible to you due to your lack of knowledge regarding Italian, though the ardent way he spoke made your heart quicken. 

A small, sweet, love-struck part of yourself wanted nothing more than to melt back into the embrace of the ‘Swan Prince’, to swoon and sigh and let him sweep you off your feet. This was the same goddamn part of you that still entertained Caesar’s attempted courting, that kept going to the same lake despite your dislike for Caesar, the part of you that so desperately craved being loved. Your brain fizzled out at Caesar’s touch for a moment, and when you came back to yourself you jerked out of the swan man’s grip, muttering something about needing to go somewhere and booking it. You had no idea if Caesar would try to follow you, or if he would leave the lake in the future to court you... but something instinctual warned you that you’d just given Caesar a little piece of information that was going to have him come back to court you twice as fervently as he had today. 

The golden-haired man watched you rush down the street, his mind carefully tucking away the small nugget of information he’d gotten from you, a wide grin curling his lips. It seemed that his attempts at making himself seem harmless were working fairly well, the swan prince thought to himself with a hum, shutting his eyes and allowing himself to transform into his full swan form. With a careful flap of his wings, Caesar darted into the sky and started to follow you, watching carefully as you made your way back home, mapping out the city in his mind for future ‘surprise’ visits. If he could finally figure out your schedule and regular walking pattern properly, the swan was certain he’d be able to wear down your defences enough for him to snatch you up and hide you away in the secure and private nest he had carefully built for the both of you. There’s were just a few last things he needed to get before he could set his plan into action. Green eyes watched, lovingly, as you slowed and reached your apartment building, the swan landing on a roof a little further and higher than that of your apartment building, the one that allowed Caesar to peek into your apartment and watch you go about your regular actions now you had reached home.

Soon, Caesar’s mind crooned as he settled himself comfortably close to the ledge, watching covetously as you shrugged off your coat and hung it up, soon you would be his. 

* I love you, my sweet, to the very depths of my soul. You're the only one for me 

Chapter Text

Things seem to be going well. 

Your eyes slide carefully over the people gathered together beneath the balustrade. You were, for a lack of a better word, bored. It wasn’t necessarily that the party in question was boring in and of itself, but you certainly felt out of place. Sighing softly, you checked your watch, subtly glancing around to see if the person who had ‘invited’ you to tonight's shindig had shown up already.

No one seemed to be looking in your direction. At least - not yet. 

The dress you’d bought for tonight was draped over your form elegantly, the skirt swishing around your legs as you stepped away from the balustrade to start making your way down into the crowded ballroom. You had no idea what this party was all about - truly, it was strange you’d even been invited, considering you knew no one here - but from what you could tell it was meant to celebrate either a birthday or an engagement. Either way, you had no clue why you were here, just that the invitation had been overly familiar, warm and you vaguely remembered the name Joestar from... somewhere. You’re honestly not sure where.

Walking through the crowds of people, you almost felt self-conscious with how lavishly dressed everyone was. Due to the invitation having only come to your apartment room - living where you worked, hell yeah, you hated the hotel business sometimes - you’d had no time to go all out with your shopping, and had simply grabbed the only dress that seemed vaguely fancy. However, seeing so many people wearing diamonds, glittering dresses, jewellery you could never hope to afford with the salary you earned, you felt very, very out of place. Part of you, the part that had been snidely telling you this whole time that you didn’t belong here, wondered if this had been someone’s idea of a cruel prank; let’s invite the hotel desk clerk whose boyfriend recently up and vanished on her to our fancy-schmancy party and laugh at how pathetic and alone she is. 

You grimaced at the thought, spotting one of your catering co-workers and making a beeline for them, relieved to see they were holding a tray full of glittering Champaign flutes. You saw their eyes widen in disbelief, your co-worker mouthing a ‘what the fuck?’ to which you winced and shrugged. You knew it was against hotel policy for the staff to hold conversations with the guests, so what you were doing currently could come back to bite you in the ass, but you hoped that your co-worker would know better than to blab to the boss. Snatching a flute of Champaign, you gave them a subtle nod and a panicked look, before inhaling sharply, gathering yourself together and walking away. Maybe you could slip away from the party and sneak into one of the lounges? Seeing a couple head off, giggling and touching each other in a barely appropriate manner, you decided that, hm, that’s probably not a good idea. Taking a sip from your drink, you were unaware of the icy blue eyes following your every movement, the darkly brooding and handsome face of someone you hadn’t seen hide nor hair of for several years stalking behind you quietly, watching as you fluttered around like a nervous hummingbird.

To think, after all these years of searching, he would have found you working in this dingy little hotel his grandfather co-owned. The irony was not lost on him. While he was mostly left to himself, his pursuit of you was blocked every so often by the fawning of another young lady, which he would not so politely ignore as he continued to follow your progress. His eyes couldn’t help but drink you in; the years had been kind to you, it would seem, your figure has filled out and matured since he’d last had the pleasure of being in your company. The dress clung to your curves, seducing him with the clear sway of your full hips, the slinky black material barely doing anything to hide your figure. It was easy to see that the dress had been purchased in a rush, as you had no matching shoes or jewellery to go with it, but to Jotaro Kujo, you looked divine. The black-haired man doubted he could have purchased a better dress when he’d sent you the party invitation. Spotting you working in the lobby of the hotel had made his heart skip a beat, so many years of regret and the constant search for where you had gone... it had felt like fate, to find that you were - unknowingly - working for his grandfather’s business front. 

Jotaro knew he couldn’t let you slip through his fingers again.

Unaware of your large, broody shadow, you ducked into one of the few doors you recognised that lead into the art gallery. While the gallery was never open during the evenings, it seemed that the door had been left unlocked - god damn it, you were going to have to scold and warn the night auditor to check and double-check they locked everything from now on - and sighed with relief when you saw it was empty. Oh, thank god. You could rest and come up with a plan to survive the rest of this evening here. Slowing your previous rush, you moved to walk around the room, trying to work out some of your nervous energy, finishing off your drink with three quick sips. Ugh, you probably should have grabbed something to eat while you were hurrying around the ballroom. Shaking the thought from your head, you turned your gaze up to admire the art that was on display; out of all the rooms in the hotel, this one had to be your favourite. The art student in you was filled with such awe and emotion whenever you found a moment of peace during your hectic schedule, taking the time to appreciate the beauty of the art the hotel had on display. It was a point of pride for your bosses, to be able to open this gallery to their guests and have them wander around, enjoying the art while they conducted whatever business they came for.

It was a bittersweet feeling, to be sure, as you gazed upon the one genuine Monet the hotel had, resisting the urge to reach out and wipe your hand across the canvass. Whenever you were in this room, your thoughts would always inevitably stray back to the past, to your regrets and failures, everything that had lead up to this moment. You sighed to yourself, a wry smile quirking your lips into something wan and sad - while things had never been... great with your boyfriend, you were truly worried for him. His sudden disappearance from your life had caused you such hurt, and to find that he’d ghosted you and cut off any points you could contact him in the future, stung with the memories of another heart-wrenching break up you’d suffered through in the past. You were quiet in your contemplation, your eyes drinking in the waterfront that hung from the wall, wondering if all your relationships fizzled and failed so spectacularly because of something inherent about you. Maybe you just drew in the assholes, you thought bitterly, so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the click of the door opening behind you. 

Jotaro stepped into the room, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the difference in lighting before they sought you out. For a moment, the black-haired man felt as if he’d somehow stepped back in time, a blast of memories rushing past him in the blink of an eye. He couldn’t help the sharp inhale he made, spotting you, standing there with a look of admiration on your face, the memory of what had drawn Jotaro’s attention to you so many years ago coming back to haunt him. This... this was what he’d missed, he slowly realised, walking quietly to stand behind you. He’d missed that look of devotion, of love on your face, so deep and ardent and true that it made his heart stop. He remembered what it was like to bask under that look, to have you smile up at him as he bought you coffee for your winter dates, eyes shining with the innocence of first love. It was a look he’d grown to covet, one he’d so jealously hoped to hoard all to himself if it wasn’t constantly on display for the world to see whenever you looked at some stupid painting. Envy, thick and heady and oh so familiar, reared its ugly head when he saw that, once again, that awed, loving, adoring expression was pointed not in Jotaro’s direction, but another fucking painting.

Jotaro had never thought he was a jealous man before he’d met you, and after he’d left you he had never experienced the bitter agony of envy again. It was... intoxicating, dark in a way that made the Kujo want to pluck your eyes out so that the only image you’d ever remember seeing was his face. Shaking his head, Jotaro tried to squash the feelings, pushing them to the back of his mind as you hummed and moved to step away from the painting, words spilling from his lips like ink onto canvas before he could stop himself, “I saw you last night…you looked beautiful,” The warm voice of one Jotaro Kujo, a man you hadn’t seen in years, a man who had broken your heart and left you to fend for yourself, practically rang in your ears. You flinched at the sound, turning quickly to face the man from your past, the one that haunted your nightmares regularly, his face cold and impassive as he told you ‘it’s not going to work out’ between you two. For a moment, the years seemed to fall away, and you were left starry-eyed and innocent to the ways of heartbreak once more, your (E/C) eyes locking with the glacial gaze of your ex. Gods, had it really been years since you’d looked upon his face? Jotaro had hardly changed, his expression impassive and cool as it always had been, the only differences being the new frown lines and sparse wrinkles that dusted his handsome face. You were in awe, much like you had been with the painting, that moment lasting nearly a lifetime before the crashing wave of anger and grief you’d never been able to confront smashed into your heart. Jotaro smiled, lips curled up just the slightest bit, as if it was so monumentally difficult for the black-haired man to do so, his eyes soft in a way you’d never remembered him being capable of, “It’s good to see you, (Y/N).”

“I can’t say the feeling is mutual,” You respond morosely before you can stop yourself, clamming up immediately when the words slipped out unbidden. Jotaro’s smile faltered, a look of guilt flashing through his eyes before he turned his face to hide them behind the brim - god, he still had that stupid hat - of his cap. The silence between the two of you stretched, a yawning chasm dividing the two of you to opposite sides. Everything... everything clicked into place, the tone of the invitation - familiar and warm - made sense all at once. You had to hold yourself back from releasing the built-up anger, betrayal, vitriolic emotions that bubbled at the back of your throat. For so, so many years you had wondered what you would do if you ever met Jotaro Kujo again, and now, you just... couldn’t think of doing anything. There was so much anger and hate inside you, building into something that scared you. You looked into Jotaro’s face, memorising his expression, feeling disappointment well up in the pit of your gut. This... whatever you had thought this would be, was nothing. Shaking your head, you moved to step past Jotaro, intent on leaving him to whatever it was he had planned to do here, only to have your arm grabbed by his large hand, “Let go of me, I wish to leave,” You hissed, tugging at your arm.

Jotaro refused, his eyes piercing you with a glare, a sneer curling his lip as he forced you to stay, “No. No, I’m not letting you slip through my fingers again,” His intense, angry expression softened, one of his broad hands reaching to cup your cheek, gripping tightly to your jaw when you tried to jerk away from him, “I’ve missed you so much, (Y/N)... you can’t imagine how long I’ve been looking for you. And here you are, with me, perfect and...” He trailed off, nausea welling in your gut when his eyes slid down to your soft lips, something hungry and desperate lighting his gaze. Jotaro leaned in, his soft lips barely brushing yours, the grip on your jaw practically bruising as he licked at the seam of your lips. You whimpered trying to jerk away, succeeding only slightly, enough to break the kiss. Jotaro seemed as if he was going to try again, his mouth parted this time to go for a deeper kiss, only for the two of you to be interrupted by the door swinging open, a pair of drunk guests stumbling into the darkened room. 

Seeing your chance, you took it, pulling yourself away from Jotaro and darting out, ignoring the black-haired man’s voice shouting your name. You ducked around a corner and booked it back to your room, panting and heaving for breath once you’d reached it. In the safety of your room, you were unaware that Jotaro already knew where you lived, the mafia born son of Holly Joestar glaring and cursing as he realised he’d have to work a lot harder to get you back. 

Chapter Text

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Your voice trembles with nerves as you step into your boss’ office, your eyes immediately falling onto Kars Pillarman’s bored expression. You hold back a flinch at the sight, the anxiety in your gut blooming into something hot and terrified, especially when he lifts his red gaze from the paperwork in front of him to shoot you a disapproving look. You know exactly what it is your boss wants from you, the thoughts and memories of what he could do if he remained displeased with you making your legs shake in fright even as you slipped into his office completely.

Kars hums and turns his attention back to his paperwork, his voice cold and firm, “Close and lock the door behind you. You know the glass is a one way. Take off your clothes and come over here,” Petrified, you stand stock still, (E/C) eyes wide and already beginning to tear up, your hand lingering on the knob of the door. You could so easily leave right now, Kars had a bigger reputation to uphold than you did, and you knew he wouldn’t bother running after you should you make your escape from the room right now. You could just leave. Of course, you could. But then, you might not have a job after, and you already knew if you did, you’d be blacklisted throughout the city - nay, the country - with the power Kars had over the business world. You swallow thickly, glancing back to the door one last time, which draws Kars’ attention to you, your boss’ expression becoming stormy and dark, and you knew you wouldn’t be getting another warning, “If you don’t take your clothes off, I’ll take them off for you, and you won’t like it, (Y/L/N).” 

You flinched at his words, biting back a scared whimper as you shakily began to take off your clothing, unbuttoning your blouse and allowing it to slip down your shoulders. You went purposefully slow, partly to avoid the inevitable and partly under Kars’ instructions. Slipping out of your skirt, you held your clothing, uncertain where to put it as you locked eyes with your boss, his hungry stare glancing over to a nearby chair. Thank the gods for small mercies - if Kars had been willing to have you leave your clothing on the floor, you knew you would have ended up bruised, shaking, and unable to remember your name. Once you placed your unfolded - no patience for that, you didn’t know what Kars expected from you and you didn’t want to run the risk of irritating him while he was already in such a mood - clothing on the chair, you stepped out of your undies and bra, leaving you completely naked in front of Kars. Your boss hummed, his red gaze sliding down your body, admiring the curves of your hips and breasts, the way you still held yourself so shyly even after all this time as his favoured secretary, “Come here, (Y/N),” He rumbled, crooking one of his neatly manicured fingers, beckoning you closer. You hesitated only a moment before following his command, slightly relieved that he’d used your first name; at least it wasn’t going to be one of those sessions. You would at least be able to go home without Kars insisting on ‘keeping an eye on you’ at his lavish estate. You hated going to the estate - you could never be one hundred per cent sure you’d ever leave again.

Stepping in front of Kars, you hugged your middle and kept your gaze downturned, biting your lower lip when your boss’ large hands cupped your hips. He hummed softly, tugging you closer and you went without a fight, Kars pulling you along and instructing you to sit on his desk, legs spread wide so he could admire your soft, damp folds. You were embarrassed that your body had already reacted to Kars’ touch, to his voice and the way he looked at you, your voice whimpering a soft, “Sir, please...” unsure if you were begging for Kars to touch you or if you were begging to be let go. Either way, the purple-haired man ignored your whimpering, pulling away long enough to pull his hair back so it wouldn’t get in his way, cupping your thighs and spreading your legs impossibly wider, so much so that you could feel your muscles strain and twinge painfully, “S-Sir, I can’t stretch that far - o-oh!” You whimpered, hands slamming on his desk behind you, Kars’ hot mouth slanting over your cunt, thick tongue trailing between your plump labia to grind the blade against your clit. A whine spilt from your lips, your hands clenching tightly as you fought the urge to reach up and tangle your hands in Kars’ hair. Your boss had warned you about the consequences of touching him without permission, and you didn’t want to deal with the pain, the humiliation that could come from disobeying him - knowingly or by instinct. Kars’ grip on your thighs was bruising, the capillaries beneath the skin breaking easily beneath the larger, stronger man’s grip, his lips, teeth and tongue toying with your pussy, getting you nice and wet. Your heart thudded in your ears, loud all-consuming, heat suffusing the skin of your cheeks as you felt pleasure worm its way through your body, “A-ah, mmmh, s-so - please, I c-can’t-” You bit your lip, hiccupping and trying to stay quiet, knowing that the one-way glass could only muffle your noises so much.

Kars chuckled deeply, your juices dripping from his lips and down his chin, your boss expertly working you up until all of your nerves felt like they were on fire, quivering with need, “Hmmm, go on, let them hear you, (Y/N). I’m sure everyone in the office deserves to hear what a good little slut you are for me,” You shuddered at Kars’ words, mewling when one of his hands slid up to slip a finger inside your drooling cunt, feeling your inner walls clench and flutter around the intruding digit. Kars knew exactly what to do to have you dripping and aching for him, his lips wrapping around your clit and giving the throbbing nub several slow, hard sucks, his finger pressing deep and sure, crooking to rub against your g-spot. Your arms went out from under you, the hot skin of your naked back pressing into the cool mahogany of his desk, your mouth open and eyes hazy as you made small noises of pleasure. This was how Kars loved to have you, shaking, incoherent, desperate - perfect. Seeing you like this was enough to tempt him into keeping you, possessing you, owning your heart, body, mind and soul like a covetous dragon. Pulling away from your pussy with a pop, your boss smirked at you, the sight of his cocky, smug expression making you whine and tense as he pulled his thick finger out of you. No... nooooooooo, you moaned in disappointment despite yourself, despite your situation, briefly forgetting how much you were supposed to hate this, how badly you wanted to be free from Kars’ lust even as you bucked your hips and tried to pull his finger back inside you, “My, my, you’re such a needy little thing. Do you need me inside you so badly? And here I thought you wanted me to work you open properly,” Kars’ voice was gravelly with want, your boss pulling completely away from you, wiping his chin clean with one hand while his other moved to his pelvis, expertly opening the front of his slacks and pulling out his monstrous cock. 

Your mouth went dry at the sight, the nerves constantly present whenever you had to interact with Kars lighting back up in fear as your (E/C) eyes locked with his. Kars rose a brow, slowly stroking his cock, and you knew what he wanted from you near immediately. You trembled, but obeyed, sliding off of his desk to sit in his lap, pausing only for a moment to debate whether to straddle or sit before Kars decided for you, “W-wait, sir, don’t we need to use the cond-oooooh! Hahh, nnnnnhg!” You moaned as he turned you around, lifted you above his cock and slid you down with one cruel thrust. You hiccupped and fought to muffle the loud cry that threatened to fall from you, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Fuck, fuck it was too much, the stinging pain of being stretched too quickly luckily soothed from how wet you were. You were lucky - grateful even - that Kars had taken the time to prepare you at least somewhat, making sure you were wet and slick enough to take your boss to the hilt smoothly. While your hips tried to jerk and move so you could try and push out some of Kars’ heated girth, his large hands cupped your hips and forced you still, powerful, muscular legs tensing and causing the thick cock inside you to rub torturously against your walls as he rolled his chair back into his desk. You breathed heavily, shaking so bad Kars’ chest had to press into your back and pin your front to his desk to stop your movements, a reedy moan leaving your throat, wrecked and wet sounding as one of Kars’ large hands drifted from your hip to stroke the bulge he made in your belly.

“Shhh, calm down, you can take it, good girl,” Kars rumbled against your back, the vibrations of his voice shooting sparks of pleasure-pain down your spine, his continuous press against you causing you to fight to breathe properly. Your breasts were nestled above Kars’ paperwork, tears dripping down your face and ruining your makeup as you desperately tried to get used to the stretch, “Now, you’re going to sit right here and keep my cock nice and warm inside that tight pussy of yours. If you’re quiet and don’t move for however long it takes me to finish my paperwork, you’ll have earned a reward, alright?” The false gentility in Kars voice made you whimper and nod desperately, your mind going hazy as you struggled to breathe, lean back and stop shaking. Kars cooed over how messy you were, smug adoration in his bright red gaze while he tilted your head back to kiss you, gentle, light, soft, a complete shift in tone compared to the cruelty he’d displayed by forcing you to take his cock bare and hardly stretched. You whined, mouth slack as Kars kissed you, allowing the large, purple-haired man to do as he pleased. When he pulled back with a sigh, he forced you to lean back and rest against his chest, your trembling having calmed significantly now you could breathe properly. You allowed yourself to drift, your focus shifting nebulously between the heat and security of Kars body against yours to the thick, throbbing pole lodged deep in your guts. You felt like Kars’ cock was trying to rearrange your insides, forcing your body to accommodate to his so he could carve out a perfect little space inside you, the perfect fit for his dick - practically turning you into a pocket pussy, you thought deliriously, a hiccupy-whimper, breathy and soft, spilling from your lips. 

Kars hummed and shushed you, his concentration moving to the pile of paperwork at the edge of his desk, one hand resting on your bulging belly and rubbing the tender skin while the other signed and pushed the documents into the ‘outgoing’ cubby on the left corner of his desk. You fought to be good, to keep quiet and still like your boss wanted, sniffling miserably while your juices continued to trickle and seep into the front of Kars’ slacks, ruining the material and giving your boss another ‘reason’ to extend your contract. It was hard - every little movement from Kars felt like it reverberated through you, sending a fresh wave of tears down your flushed cheeks, pleasure throbbing hot and painful in the pit of your stomach. You practically bit your lips bloody, trying to hold back the sounds that built up in the back of your throat, wanting so desperately to please Kars, to get this over with, to be able to feel that pleasure work its way through your body and leave you exhausted. Your hazy eyes stared ahead, and you barely noticed the time tick by, growing more and more needy and sensitive with each tick of the clock, each twitch of Kars’ thick cock inside you, the head rubbing and drooling messy bouts of pre-cum against your inner walls, your g-spot - hell, your cervix, or so it felt like - the slight jolts working you up to something quick, messy and full of need. You were practically vibrating when Kars finally pushed the last piece of paper into the cubby, both of his hands ‘lovingly’, possessively rubbing over the bump he made before they gripped your hips, lifting your off of his cock and forcing your front to sprawl across his desk, leaving only the dripping tip inside you until he forcefully slammed his cock back into the nice, tight, warm little home Kars had made inside you. 

You cried out wetly, the right side of your face sticking to the pristine wood beneath you, Kars standing from his chair to start railing into your cunt, one hand buried in your hair to pin you in place, the other clutching your hip to force your shaky legs to help you stand. A wave of incomprehensible babbling drooled from your slack mouth, your (E/C) eyes rolling to the back of your mind as you crested the wave of a quick and messy orgasm, your release squirting out of your sensitive cunt to soak Kars’ slack even further, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, what a messy little bitch you are,” Kars hummed, bemused as you writhed, sobbed, shook and came apart beneath his expert touch, your boss knowing just where to touch you to get you riled up once more, “I don’t believe I gave you permission to cum just yet, did I, (Y/N)?” You whined and sobbed, barely understandable apologies flapping from your mouth to fill the heated space beneath your cheek, your breath leaving condensation on the lacquered wood, “Shhh, darling, it’s alright - I knew you wouldn’t have been able to hold on, what with how sensitive you are. You did so well for your first cock warming session, sweet thing, such a good girl, keeping quiet and letting your Sir do his work in peace,” You whined and whimpered, arching your back so the curve of your ass smacked wetly against Kars’ pelvis, his red gaze appreciating the way the supple flesh jiggled from each rough thrust. Ah, if only he’d had the patience to pull you over his knee and bruised the soft flesh, he’s sure you would have cried and squirmed so much more if you’d been forced to sit on the painful bruising Kars was wont to leave on your soft cheeks. Oh well, he could always indulge himself some other time, Kars grunting and fucking into you even harder, deeper, faster, chasing his release without a care for your pleasure, knowing you’d be able to cum at least once more from his rough attention. 

Sure enough, with one particularly deep thrust, Kars hilting his cock inside you and growling as he leaned his full weight across your back, you came, nearly blacking out from the pleasure, wailing his name without thought. You tight, milking walls pulled your boss over the edge with you, Kars’ heart fluttering with excitement as he came deep in the back of your cunt, thick, hot ropes of cum practically burning your inner walls and cervix, bathing your insides in his sticky spend without a care for the consequences. He’d be able to afford it, after all, and surely you would appreciate it if he ‘stepped up’ and ‘took responsibility’ should anything come of his ‘slip in judgement’. Sighing, Kars slowly pulled out of you, his still twitching, spurting cock filling your pussy to the brim as he pulled out with a wet pop, the last few, weak pumps of seed coating your labia and clit in the thick pearly fluid. You whimpered, body slack with exhaustion, your thighs trembling and bruised as you held still, legs spread and pussy on display. Kars hummed lowly, hooking his thumbs inside your messy cunt and holding open your folds, watching a long, thick drip of his and your release spill from your cunt, hanging suspended in the air for just a moment before it broke and fell onto his pristine leather shoes. Hearing the click of Kars’ tongue, you flinched and curled up slightly, your boss using his grip in your hair to pull you off his desk and push you to your knees, red eyes dark and stormy as you were forced to see the mess you’d made of his shoes, “Lick them clean. You should know better than to make a mess of Sir’s clothing,” The purple-haired man growled, and you immediately bent low, tongue slipping between your lips to lap the droplet up, too tired to fight Kars’ orders. Your boss purred and pet your head, a thrill of sick joy rushing through you at the praise.

“Good girl. Get dressed, I’ll be taking you home tonight to give you your reward,” Your heart sunk, the rational part of your mind - still foggy and far away - baulking and trembling fearfully, though the part of you currently in control was grateful to Kars, happy to pull your clothing onto your messy figure, eager for more praise and pleasure at the hands of your boss. Kars smirked and hummed, wrapping an arm around you and leading you out the private exit at the back of his office, unwilling to have any of the lower office staff see the spectacularly messy little slut you were from his tenderly forceful instructions, “Hmm, you’re almost there darling. Just a little longer and you’ll be all mine.” 

Chapter Text

He shouldn’t be doing this. He really, really shouldn’t be doing this. 

It’s midnight and you’re out of the house. You trusted him - after all of Josuke’s whining and begging - to take care of things while you did Coven bullshit. Josuke had been needling you to let him take care of your house while you were away for months now. Sure, maybe he was... a little obsessed with it - but he was trying to prove to you that he would make the best familiar! Way better than the owl bastard you’d been talking with a couple of weeks ago. Dude can’t even fight right! He’s not big enough to protect you, care for you, hug you when you’re scared, mate you-

Josuke shakes his head with a growl, forcing himself not to think of you that way. Be patient Josuke, you first have to get (Y/N) trust. The thought of you made something warm and tender bloom in his chest, the need to be around you constantly settling like a familiar ache into the marrow of his bones. Ugh, you were just so perfect. So kind, so sweet, you’d healed him when you had no reason to take care of a lone, frightened werewolf who’d been wreaking havoc on your little flock of sheep. Sure, you’d been pissed, but you’d still helped him! The memories of your soft hands against Josuke’s wounded skin had the werewolf shudder lightly and shake his head, nervously checking if you hadn’t already returned.

Nothing. You were still gone. You probably wouldn’t be back for another couple of hours... right? Right.

Heart thumping in his chest, Josuke tiptoed nervously back to your room, having spent the past half hour darting down the hallway that leads from your kitchen to your bedroom, nervous that you might return at any second to catch him sneaking around. He’d sworn to himself he wasn’t going to be creepy, that he’d respect your privacy and show that he could respect your boundaries - despite the many, many, many times he’d already trundled over them to try and woo you over - to prove he’d be a good familiar. The thought of you cooing and praising him for doing a good job, being a good boy and taking care of your home, had Josuke whining and wagging his tail excitedly, the muscular appendage whacking and thumping loudly against your cabin walls. 

Ugh. Focus Josuke! You can fantasise about (Y/N) calling you a good boy later in your den! The pompadoured werewolf angrily thought to himself, his eyes shooting from the door to your bedroom back to the kitchen area. He really should just plop himself down on your couch and watch the front door, pricking his ears at the possible sounds of an intruder... but your scent was so thick, so heavenly, trailing through the air and beckoning Josuke closer. It was almost siren-like, crawling into the back of his mind and reminding him, terribly, that all of your most intimate things were hidden just behind that door. Josuke could feel his mouth watering at the thought, swallowing thickly with a wet click, his bright blue gaze stuck on your bedroom door. He really shouldn’t do this, but... well, what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt his chances with you, right?

Inhaling deeply, Josuke glanced back to your kitchen one last time before his hand closed around the doorknob to your bedroom. Quietly opening the door, he slunk into the dark space, blinking and allowing his sight to grow used to the difference between the well-lit hallway and your bedroom, barely illuminated by the light of the moon. His eyes, once adjusted, immediately flew over to your closet, and before Josuke could stop himself, he caved in and rushed over. Nose twitching, the werewolf felt drunk on your scent as he was surrounded by it, shoving open your closet doors and rifling through your clothing, searching for something, anything he could easily sneak into his pocket. Despite himself, he buried his nose into a pile of your shirts, groaning when your sweet, herbal scent filled his lungs, lust coiling thick and heady in the pit of his belly. Pulling away, Josuke shook his head and continued searching, finally finding your panty drawer and pulling it open so quickly it nearly flew out of the closet. The sight of satin, cotton and lace made Josuke’s eyes go wide, his pupils dilating to engulf his irises. 

Shaky hands reached in, the rough pads of his fingers trailing over the soft material. A shudder of pure need wracked down Josuke’s spine, a high pitched whimper spilling from his throat as one of the panties caught on his claws. It was a lacy thing, more holes than silk, black and so pretty Josuke couldn’t help but pull it to his nose and inhale from the soft material. The crisp, clean scent of your detergent had the werewolf recoiling, a disappointed whine filling the air, his raging erection flagging slightly as his ears and tail drooped. Damn, he’d hoped that the natural, musky scent of your pussy would have lingered in the silken material, the werewolf having dreamt about being able to bury his head between your thighs and lick you till you trembled hotly beneath him, only to be foisted by your clean underwear. Grumbling to himself, Josuke shoved the pair of lacy underwear back into the drawer and pulled out another, finding that it had the same problem, as did all the rest, no doubt, “Damn it!” The werewolf barked angrily, shoving the drawer closed and pouting, his tail thrashing angrily behind him. Had he just risked it all for nothing? Ugh, he knew he shouldn’t have come in here, no matter how good everything smelled.

Closing the closet doors, Josuke moved to stand, only for his eyes to fall on a small, hidden basket to the side. Nose twitching, Josuke couldn’t help but take a sniff, a groan rumbling in the pit of his chest as he did so; the heady scent coming from the basket could only be described as heavenly, Josuke diving for the basket and ripping the top off with ease, staring down into a pile of used clothing. Ruffling through most of the dirt and sweat-stained shirts, pants, skirts and bras, Josuke reared back in triumph when his hand closed around something silky and light, his eyes widening at the sight of the pair of baby blue panties in his grip, “O-oh fuck,” He whispered, staring in awe at just how sheer they were, white lace bordering the almost mesh-like quality of the underwear. Tiny flowers decorated the waistband and leg holes, giving the sexy little piece an almost innocent look to it, but it was the small wet spot at the front that caught Josuke’s attention. Holy shit... had you worn these panties today? Rubbing a thumb over the crotch, Josuke whined and pulled the pair closer, the wet spot still damp from where it had pressed against your pussy, “Oh fuck, you’re such a naughty little slut, (Y/N),” Josuke whimpered, imagining you wearing this pair as he’d spoken to you this morning. God, you were wearing a skirt too - he could have snuck a peek beneath the material and see your pretty little labia and clit, all wet and messy. 

And you had been wet - the dampness of your panties crotch made that all too clear. No longer having the will to deny himself, Josuke pulled your used panties, smothering his nose and mouth into them as his free hand moved to the front of his pants, fumbling with the zipper of his jeans before he was able to pull his hard, leaking cock out into the open. The heated flesh throbbed, a groan vibrating in the back of Josuke’s throat, the silky mesh material of your panties doing nothing to muffle the sound, “Hahh, fuck, you’re such a needy whore, mmmh, getting all turned on while I was talkin’ to ya today,” Josuke growled, picturing you in his mind's eye from this afternoon, cheeks flushed from being out in the sun, gardening. Josuke imagined that your cheeks were flushed for a completely different reason as his free hand wrapped around his cock, pre-cum slicking his hand so he could stroke himself easily, “Hahh, you wanted me, didn’t you, (Y/N)? Mmmh, yeah, fuck, I know you did - you like to play all hard to get, but I can smell how bad you want me,” Josuke growled, tongue darting out of his mouth to lap at the damp spot left behind, whining as the subtle taste of your pussy spread across his taste buds, giving the werewolf just a hint of your taste, your juices, enough that the image of you shifted in his mind.

Falling back against your plush carpets, Josuke growled and closed his eyes, his memories of your glaring, reddened face twisting to something softer, needier, your (E/C) eyes full of lust and want as your hands delicately held up your skirts. In his mind, you were showing yourself off, the light curls that covered your pussy on full display behind the mesh of your sheer panties, trimmed and neat and perfect, glistening with the beginning stages of arousal. Josuke imagined, teeth clenching around the lacy edges of your panties, mouth sucking around the crotch for more of your delectable taste, that he’d lift you and sat you on your garden’s sturdy fence, ducking beneath your skirt to lap hungrily at your cunt through the silk mesh of your panties, teasing himself and you. A whine, high and reedy with need, spills from Josuke’s lips, drool trailing from his mouth as he throttled his cock, pleasure tingling hot and ready at the base of his spine. Fuck, fuck, you’d be so perfect, your hands buried in his hair and messing his pompadour as you coo and moan, calling Josuke a good boy, a good little doggy while he lapped and mouthed at your pussy, suckling your clit for more of your delicious slick. He wanted it, he wanted to be your good boy so badly, wanted you to take him as your familiar so he could suck and lick your cunt to orgasm over and over and over again while you moaned about what a good doggy he was. Maybe that should have made the werewolf flinch, the idea of being compared to some domesticated mutt usually causing anger to simmer in his gut - but to imagine it coming from your lips as you scratch behind his ear and forcefully smothered him in your pussy - well, it was enough to have Josuke cumming, thick ropes of hot seed spurting from his cock to make a mess of Josuke’s front.

The werewolf whined and sighed, panting hotly against the spit-soaked panties, his hazy blue eyes fluttering open to stare at your bedroom door. Josuke jumped in surprise when you saw you there, staring, mouth open and cheeks flushed, shock, horror and anger fighting for dominance in your face. Josuke blinked several times, cheeks blushing with embarrassment at getting caught, his cock twitching even as it softened in his grip. The scent of you was thick in his nose, the sight of you reminding him of his fantasy and he swallowed thickly, opening his mouth to explain himself, only for these words to come out instead:

“So…do you want your underwear back?” 

Whining, yelping and loud cursing rang out in the night, flashes of light following Josuke as he burst through your door, running into the woods as you screamed something completely incoherent behind him. Clenched between his teeth, Josuke still held your underwear, heart pounding as he thought about the next time he’d be able to see you. 

Chapter Text

“Darlin’ it’s cold as hell out here, why don’t you come inside the tent an’ we can cuddle and talk about it sweet thing.”

The voice of your captor is sweet as honey, the husky timbre shooting shivers of discomfort down your spine. Despite his gentle probing, you knew that Hol Horse wasn’t going to wait patiently for you to make up your mind, and with how cold the Egyptian nights had started to get, you weren’t going to last much longer out here anyhow. You sniffled softly and hunkered down, the thin blanket around your shoulders barely keeping out the nearly freezing gusts of wind from raking against your skin. The tent looked warm and inviting, Hol Horse’s patient, concerned gaze looking out at you from the opening. The muscular was blond sitting on his knees and looked close to just going out and snatching you up and out of the desert cold, much like he’d done so many months ago.

You didn’t even understand why you felt so upset with him. He’d been keeping you for - you quickly did the mental calculations - almost three-ish months now, and you’d been trying to escape the clingy cowboy for what felt like much longer. You hated him, you most definitely hated him - so then why did you feel so shitty when he started flirting with one of the barmaids back in Cairo? Why had you felt like you were competing for his attention when she giggled and flirted right back, why had you felt the ugly sting of jealousy strike at your heart? You should be happy that his attention had finally strayed to someone else! Right? I mean, if he found himself attracted to someone else, then that meant he’d let you go... right? That’s what you wanted!

... right?

Curling up against the wind, you bit your lower lip and buried your face into your knees, trying to squash the sad, desperate little voice at the back of your mind that told you that Hol Horse planned to abandon you for that other girl. You hated him! You should be rejoicing, pushing him into finding someone that could return his ‘love’ - yet, you felt a deep, unsettling grief welling up within you at the thought. You felt... displaced, lost in a sea of fear and anger and a deep welling sadness that you just didn’t know how to handle. You’d kept quiet throughout lunch, had barely even looked in Hol Horse’s direction once you’d left the city, lost in your spiralling thoughts and hating yourself for having become so fucking attached to your captor.

The crunch of Hol Horse’s boots in the sand broke you from your inner spiral, your (E/C) eyes flicking towards him as his warm, broad hands cupped your shoulders. You leaned into his touch - when did you start doing that? Why did you feel such happiness and relief when he touched you? Why did this just make you want to cry even more?! - the large blond leaning down to press gentle kisses to your shoulder blades and the back of your neck, “C’mon sugar, honey, my sweet delight, whatever you’re mad at little ole me for, it ain’t worth gettin’ hypothermia for,” He crooned, the warmth of his body against your back making you sigh and lean into his touch, aching for more of his gentleness. Hol Horse was always surprisingly sweet, gentle in a way you didn’t expect from a man that kept you by his side and refused to let you go. You swallowed thickly, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, debating with yourself just a little longer before you caved and nodded. Hol Horse wasted no time, picking you up so you could curl close to his chest, the large man carrying you into the tent and crawling over you, his bright blue eyes staring down at you, drinking the pathetic, miserable look on your face in as he mulled over what to do. Leaning closer, the blond hesitated for only a moment, hovering just a scant breath above you, which you took advantage of to lean up and kiss him sweetly. His heart pounded harshly in his chest, the tense anger in his gut dissipating all at once from how sweetly and needily you pressed your lips to his.

Hol Horse, a man who wasn’t known for denying himself anyways, lowered himself closer and wrapped his arms around your waist, humming in the back of his throat as he deepened the kiss. Without prompting, you spread your legs wide to give his body space, eager and aching to feel the larger man against you, to reassure yourself that he wasn’t about to leave you cold and destitute in the middle of the desert. Hol Horse broke the kiss with a sigh, nipping and sucking his way down your neck and chest, tugging at his shirt - the one he’d given you to wear tonight, denying you the comfort of pants or underwear, just like he always did - down low and pulling one of your breasts over the collar, “H-Hol...” You whimpered, tears slipping down your cheeks, overwhelmed by the emotions rushing through your frame, the blond man hushing you, gentle and kind, one of his broad hands cupping your jaw and wiping away your tears. You nuzzled into the rough palm of his hand, embarrassed with how emotional you were, arousal beginning to course heady and slow through your belly. While Hol Horse had kissed you plenty of times and held you close to his body every night since he’d taken you for himself, he’d never tried to force himself upon you. But now... now you were expressly giving in to him, kissing him, splaying yourself open for him, and he couldn’t find the will to hold back any longer. A soft whine of his name trills at the back of your throat conflicted desire and fear in your gaze, “Hol, please, I...” 

“Shhhhh, it’s alright, sugar, shhh,” Hol Horse murmured, kissing and lapping at your nipple, tugging the small bud gently between his teeth while one of his hands moved to slide up between your thighs, rubbing your clit and sliding two thick fingers into your aching heat with surprising ease. The cowboy felt thrilled, all of his hard work trying to make you see that you were perfect for him was coming to fruition. You clenched your thighs around his hand, a soft whimper spilling from your lips as you did so. Fuck, it was all so hot, the press and stretch of his scissoring fingers working you steadily open for his cock, your juices dripping down the curve of your ass to soak into the material of his shirt. Steam drifted from your bodies, sweat trickling down your spine as you whine and wrap your arms around Hol Horse’s neck, hands tugging at his thick hair to pull his mouth back to yours. You kissed him, desperate, hungry, aching to have him inside you, on top of you, bearing into you with all of his strength - it was too much to bear. Hol Horse broke the needy kiss with a chuckle, his lips curved in a soft smile as he slipped a third finger inside you, hushing your breathy little cry of his name, “Where’s that smile I’m looking for, sugar? Gods, you’re so perfect, you feel so wet an’ tight around my fingers,” Hol Horse groaned, pulling the thick digits from your dripping pussy, silencing your babbling whines for more with his lips, his soaked hand moving to the comfortable slack he’d tugged on for the night, pulling the waistband down so his cock sprang free.

Feeling the hot, leaking tip rub between your labia, you jolted and tried to spread your thighs wider, your hatred seeming to have melted beneath the heat of your lust, your mind spinning as you found that you were way, way more attached to Hol Horse than you’d thought, “H-Hol, please, please, I need you,” You whimpered, voice all soft and reedy, tears glittering prettily in the corners of your eyes. Hol Horse cooed and pressed butterfly kisses all across your face, hooking your knees over his elbows and slowly, carefully slipping the full length of his cock into you, inch by toe-curlingly delicious inch. You whined, your hands clutching the back of Hol Horse’s thick neck, thighs trembling as he seated himself to the hilt inside your clutching, throbbing walls. Your breaths came out in quick little bursts, you felt dizzy from the heat and pleasure that coiled in your body, thick and heady, “Hol Horse, please!” You moaned, nails digging into the skin at the back of his neck, the blond cowboy hushing you gently as he began to move. He started with slow, even strokes, edging you through the stretch of his cock to make sure you weren’t feeling any pain. When you started to buck and grind into his thrusts, whimpering and mewling for more, Hol Horse gave in and increased the depth and speed of his thrusting. It felt... incredible. You felt connected and secure, safe in the arms of your captor as he praised you sweetly, loving you with such tender, ardent movements. You couldn’t help but cry, the pent up emotions you’d been trying to hold back - jealousy, insecurity, anger and sadness - breaking free to roll down your cheeks, hiccupping moans of his name spilling from your lips in a broken mantra. Hol Horse looked at you, watched your face become slack with pleasure, pure adoration shining from his handsome face. 

You didn’t know why you felt this way, why you were only really breaking down and giving into Hol Horse at this moment, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The two of you moved in sync, as if you were made for each other, carved out of stone to fit each other perfectly with how Hol Horse caged you in his arms and held you close. The head of his cock thrust gently into your g-spot, your clit ground against the base of his cock, and in just a few strokes you came with a reedy moan, clinging to the blond man and wrapping your shins around his waist, begging him for - for - for something, something you didn’t quite know or understand. Yet, Hol Horse seemed to, the large blond speeding up, becoming just that tad bit rougher as he chased his end, coming to a halt deep inside you to spill himself in thick, messy ropes. You whimpered and cried, holding onto Hol Horse as you sobbed, apologies spilling from you with great big heaving breaths, your cowboy captor soothing you gently as he remained buried deep in your cunt. You felt... loved, so, so deeply loved and secure in Hol Horse’s arms. How had you ever lived without this safety, this intimacy, this adoration before?

The cowboy hummed and wrapped you in his arms, pulling a blanket over the both of you as your weeping slowly drifted to a halt, exhaustion tugging at your mind as you mumbled something incoherent when Hol Horse kissed your forehead. You drifted off to sleep in the arms of your captor, something innate and instinctual having changed between you and Hol Horse. 

Chapter Text

The moon shines bright and full above you as your feet pound against the earth. The silence of the night goes unnoticed as your ears are flooded with the sound of your rushing blood, your heart pumping so loud you felt like you were going to be sick. Behind you, the vibrations of your pursuer nearly make you stumble and fall, a choked, fearful cry spilling from your lips. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, you desperately needed to get away from the beast that hunted you, needed to run faster, harder. Every time you swallowed you could taste the blood that stained your teeth, having bitten the werewolf to distract him from trying to-to-to-

You shake your head and sob, pumping your legs and arms, pushing yourself to the brink, your head throbbing painfully because of it. Something crashed to the forest floor loudly behind you, a chilling howl echoing through the trees, following your desperate flight. Your lungs burned from the efforts of breathing, tears were blurring your vision despite your best efforts to clear your gaze of them. How could everything have gone so wrong?! You were supposed to sign the familiars’ contract with the owl type familiar you’d been speaking to for months now, only for your ceremony to be interrupted by the werewolf chasing after you. God, the screams... in all your life you were never going to forget the screams of the owl as they were ripped apart piece by piece. Flashes of the familiar’s innards flit through your mind like the moonlight filtered through the trees, tears stinging your face. You felt sick, remembering the bloodied blue-black muzzle of the beast, familiar eyes near-feral with rage, slit and threatening as they stared you down before the beast’s voice gurgled from his chest, the stink of rot already present on his breath: “Run, little witch.”

You hadn’t hesitated. Turning on your heel you had darted into the trees like a bat out of hell, unwilling to take the risk that he’d change his mind second later. You must have been running for hours now, your limbs feeling heavy and exhaustion plucking at your mind. It was too much for you, you felt like your lungs were going to burst from your chest - you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe! - but you had to keep going. You had to make it. In the distance, your cabin lights shine and twinkle brightly, the welcoming spell you’d put at the borders of your land activating as your bloody feet carry you over the line. There is a moment, fleeting and perfect, where your magic tingles through your body, the reassuring feeling of ‘home’ and ‘safety’ whispering like a siren song in the back of your mind.

And then you feel the heavy body of the werewolf slam into your back.

Before you know it, you’re pinned to the ground, the heavy weight of your hunter on your back, clawed hands ripping and tugging at your clothing, hot breath washing over the back of your neck. A broad, thick tongue drags against the flushed skin and you whimper breathlessly, your chest straining under the weight of your attacker as he forces you to stay still. He’s growling and snarling, and for a terrifying moment, you fear he’s going to rip out your throat, before he whines and shifts his position, forcing your legs to spread so he has you splayed out on your front. You wretch beneath him, the sudden fall and shift in momentum forcing bile up your throat before you can stop yourself, but nothing spills between your lips. You can only breathe, breathe, breathe as best you can, the air rattling in your struggling lungs. Finally, the beast gets a good grip on your shirt and tugs, flipping you onto your back and alleviating you of the weighted burden he’d made when pinning you. Blue eyes, oh so painfully familiar and bright, staring down at you, a twisted love and affection reflected in those feverish irises that sent ants scurrying up your spine in revulsion. You try to breathe in enough air to scream, but his muzzle slams into your face, his lips unwieldy, furry and strange in this form as he tries to kiss you. Growling thickly, he manages to force his rough, broad tongue into your mouth, lapping and rumbling happily as he tasted the insides of your cheeks, trying to pull your tongue to dance with his even as your hands pressed against his chest to push him away weakly. Breaking the kiss, the werewolf breathes heavily, his tail hitting the ground with loud, repetitive ‘whumps’ voice a soft coo that finally penetrates your mind to whisper:

“I want to tell you I love you until my throat bleeds.” 

You whimper at Josuke’s words, the large werewolf clutching your hips tightly between his hands. The effects of the full moon are clear to see, the usually well-groomed pompadour a mess of straggling hair from the run through the woods, his body has grown larger and more animalistic with his shift. Josuke hummed and crooned, leaning into you, trying his best to stop you from squirming away, even as you babbled at him, begging him to let you go. You were terrified that he’d force himself on you, take you and fuck you with his cock - the one you’d seen so many months prior when you had trusted him despite yourself - but the werewolf simply cooed and snuggled closer, murmuring declarations of love over and over and over into your mind. You wanted to scream at him, to tell him you hated him, but with his mouth so close to your tender throat, you knew better than to anger him right this moment. 

Still, that didn’t stop Josuke from rocking against you, barely comprehensible words spilling from his lips, the occasional “I love you, I love you, my mate, my witch,” made itself clear despite the deepening of his voice. When Josuke tilted your head back, you couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked your body, the terror of being held down by the clawed hands and the threatening prick of Josuke’s teeth nearly too much to bear. If you could just break away, if you could writhe out of his grip and closer to your home, you were sure you could save yourself from whatever Josuke planned to do. Unfortunately, now that he had you, spread and perfect, flushed with exertion and conquered after the hunt, Josuke was not going to let you go. Holding your head steady, he opened his mouth, clamping his jaw around the crook of your shoulder as gently as he could, listening to you sob and wail as he slowly, carefully sunk his teeth deep into your flesh. 

Agony seared through your feverishly frightened brain, a pained scream erupting from your throat, so powerful and raw that it made your throat bleed. You gurgled and wept, bitter tears trailing down your cheeks as the familiar bond shifted and clicked into place, tying your magic, your life, your soul to Josuke with such ease it hurt. The werewolf growled and wagged his tail harder, triumph oozing from his furry form, his ears pricked as he listened to your ragged breathing, feeling your body slump unconscious beneath his, the running, fighting and screaming having gotten the best of you. Once he was sure there would be no way to reverse or break the familiar bond with you, Josuke pulled his teeth from your shoulder, murmuring soft apologies to your unconscious form, his large, muscular arms lifting you oh so gently. Josuke carried you into the house - your house, his house, home, he thought with a wag of his tail and a pleased rumble - closing and locking the front door behind him with a soft click. He was sure you would appreciate him doting on you in the morning when you woke up from the claiming. 

You were Josuke’s now... that’s all that mattered. 

Chapter Text

“Just give in to me, love.”

“Not even in your wildest dreams,” You spat, angry and fierce even after so many months under N’Doul’s care, your mate sighing deeply as he held you struggling body in the tight clutches of his coils. Once more you had tried to escape the den that N’Doul so ‘lovingly’ kept you trapped in while the Naga had been out hunting, and once again, your swollen, egg-laden belly had kept you from going too far. Your mate carried you gently back into the warm cave, his coils tight but not tight enough to crush you, making sure that you wouldn’t try to slip away from him as he brought you back ‘home’. Your heart sank at the familiar sight, your scowl wobbling before falling completely from your face as you were lowered into the soft, cloth filled ‘nest’ N’Doul had made specifically for the both of you in mind. You knew that this would probably be the last time you could have made your escape before the eggs were ready for laying - having that hesitant sense of freedom so easily ripped from your grasp made you feel morose and exhausted from the running you’d done. As always, you slumped in N’Doul’s grip once your back lay in the nest, thinking that the Naga would let you go and wander off to finish preparing the kill he’d managed to snag for dinner, leaving you to curl up and weep through your frustration as always.

Except, the Naga tightened his grip around your body and shifted you around until you were straddling his hips, the coils of his snake half wrapping around your arms and legs, forcibly pinning you to his stronger, larger form. The pale, sightless eyes of your mate were locked in the general area of your face, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin as he nuzzled closer, beginning to press soft kisses to your face and neck. Alarm rocked through your full figure, your mind already picking up on exactly what N’Doul planned to do. You shuddered and squirmed, gasping when the clawed hands of your mate caressed your belly, his voice a deep rumble as he spoke once more, “Hmm, it’s such a shame that you continue to deny your place beside me as my mate, my sweet (Y/N),” The Naga hissed, one of his hands steadily moving down between your spread thighs, N’Doul having refused to allow you clothing once he’d claimed you as his own, your exposed, constantly damp cunt on display, your labia parted from how widely your legs were spread apart. Your breathing hitched when you felt N’Doul pause at the crook of your neck, long, thick tongue flicking over the scarred skin beneath his lips, a sigh spilling washing warm air over the silvery skin as his fangs scraped dangerously close, “I had so hoped I wouldn’t have to pump more of my venom into you. I’d rather you didn’t grow addicted to it... but if it’s the only way I can keep you still and wet for me, then I suppose it wouldn’t be too much of an issue.”

You shuddered at N’Doul’s words, panic flashing through you hot and quick, your squirming becoming more desperate struggles, the constant bucking of your hips making the eggs roll uncomfortably inside your swollen middle, “N’Doul, let me go,” You snapped, arching your back and turning your face from his, trying to keep the Naga’s terrible mouth away from your neck, only to have him coo and nuzzle closer, his coils shifting you around to you were pressed intimately close, nearly held in a loving embrace. You gasped when the familiar prick of pain came from your neck, a whimper following soon after as N’Doul pumped your body full with his venom, the aphrodisiac quality shooting heat and need through your body soon after. You whined and shook in the Naga’s embrace, your bucking coming to a sudden halt, full chest heaving with the effort to breathe as the slit at the front of N’Doul’s waist opened, the twin heads of his cocks grinding between your suddenly soaked labia, “N’Doul, f-fuck, please, don’t-” You can’t stop yourself from begging, your still semi-lucid mind quickly being dragged beneath the almost painful ecstasy that washed over your figure. Tears of frustration and lust pricked at the corners of your eyes, the knowledge that N’Doul planned to fill you impossibly with more of his thick seed was causing you to fight against the heat that rushed through your body. 

“Shhhhh, beloved,” N’Doul murmured as he pulled his fangs from your neck, blood and venom dripping from the points while his tongue lovingly lavished over the new wounds on your neck, encouraging them to clot and scab. One of his hands drifted between your thighs, his thumb gently rubbing against your clit as you become wetter and wetter, your juices dripping from your needy pussy to soak the scales of his lower snake half. He coos sweetly when he feels your cunt gush wetly from the attention he pays to your clit - your body had become so, so sensitive because of the eggs, making it so that any touch from your mate had you shivering and wet within seconds. You can’t hold onto any of your thoughts, aphrodisiac venom wreaking havoc on your mind and forcing you to give in, to spread your thighs impossibly further, arching your body just so that N’Doul’s thick, rough fingers graze over the opening of your pussy, trying to invite the clawed digits into your sweet cunt, “Oh, just look at how wet you are for me, habibti,” N’Doul crooned, nuzzling and kissing your face, relishing the taste of your salty tears as your body was overwhelmed once again with pleasure. The Naga carefully thrust his fingers inside you, hissing between clenched teeth as your walls clutched the intrusion tightly, his fingers scissoring you open with gentle motions. While the prior times he’d taken you had been fueled with rough, desperate and angry rutting... N’Doul wanted to indulge, to allow himself to show you how good he could treat you, how soft and gentle he could be as he lavished your body with the love and affection you could get if you weren’t so stubborn about leaving him.

You gasped and whimpered as the stretching press of N’Doul’s fingers, confused as to why your mate was suddenly being so careful, so thorough, so... sweet to you. You had tried to escape; you had tried to leave him. Surely he would be angry with you for that, wouldn’t he? You moaned, unable to deny the way your body shivered and ached for more, that little voice in the back of your mind that begged you to give N’Doul a chance, that told you your mate was worthy of your affection, or your submission, of your acceptance, rang loudly in your mind as you were stretched with such loving touches, “W-what are you... hahh, mmh, o-oh, N’Doul... it feels so...” You struggled to find the words, half-formed sentences and whining words spilling from your lips, sweet like wine and just as intoxicating for the Naga. N’Doul shuddered when he felt your hazy stare lock on his face, your mouth opens on a desperate moan as he edged you closer and closer to completion, only to whine in disappointment when he pulled his fingers from your quivering pussy, “N-Noooooooooo, please, I want-more, please, N’Doul, I-” You were interrupted by your mate, the Naga hushing you by swallowing your whimpering cries with his lips, his tongue thrusting deep into your mouth, dancing at the back of your throat as you moaned and tugged your arms weakly, wanting to hold on to your mate but unable to do so.

Breaking the kiss, N’Doul sighed with delight as your body swayed and tried to lean further into him, his hands cupping and massaging your swollen, egg-filled belly as he slowly, almost torturously so, thrust his cocks into your aching heat with one smooth roll of his hips. You gasped and wailed at the stretch, the pleasure from being full causing your body to sing with a need for more, juices gushing and dripping from your cunt, welcoming the twin girths into the hot, tight, wet clutch of your inner walls, “You’re so perfect, so pretty, so sweet, I love you so much, my precious little mate,” The Naga hisses against the tender skin of your neck, the raw wounds left by his fangs itching and swollen beneath his cool mouth. He kisses them softly, pulling a needy whimper from you, the effects of his venom still coursing through your blood, making your mind sluggish and hazy with lust. N’Doul coos gently, the slow, steady rocking of his hips against yours feeling almost romantic with how tenderly he’s coiled his whole body around yours, keeping you pinned and spread perfectly as he mated you. You whine and buck weakly your heavy belly shifting and cradled gently between the muscular coils of N’Doul’s tail, the Naga groaning in delight at the sight of you, so swollen and full of his brood, “That’s it, oh you’re doing so well, my darling, hush now, shhh, it’ll be over soon, I know how tired you’ve been getting lately... the eggs are close to the end of their incubation, soon we’ll have our perfect babies here with us, won’t we?”

You hiccuped and whined pathetically, face flushed and tear-streaked, your (E/C) eyes hazy from the slow, thorough press of N’Doul’s cock, “N-N’Doul, pleaaaassse,” You manage to slur, arching and gasping and wailing oh so prettily beneath your mate when the head of his cock graze your poor, full womb. The Naga’s face is turned to you with a look of pure adoration, his sightless eyes locked somewhere in the general direction of your openly weeping expression. His long, thick tongue flicks out, tasting the air and crooning softly, soothingly, one large, clawed hand rubbing over the large swell of your abdomen, “’s too much, I c-ahhhhhhhh-can’t, can’t take it anymore! Please!” N’Doul sighed with bliss, your voice sounding like sweet music to his ears, his eyes sliding closed so he could concentrate on the way your body felt against and around him. With slow, effortless thrusts, N’Doul pulled out and filled you over and over and over again, the base of his cocks grinding against your clit and sending hot bolts of pure arousal up your spine. Your inner walls fluttered around him with each press, each gentle push of his cocks deep inside your cunt, the tips kissing the soft, jelly-like consistency that kept his eggs forcefully inside your womb, cushioning the growing spheres and keeping them cosy and warm inside the tender embrace of your body. N’Doul’s rutting into your pussy was achingly slow, the Naga taking the time to caress, to touch, to kiss your body and show his love for you physically, proving his constant words of adoration. A fresh wave of tears rushed down your cheeks, your mind and body confused but delighted by the tender way N’Doul fucked you, building you up to the brink of a soft, shuddery orgasm as you whined plaintively for more.

The Naga shushed and cooed over you, his voice a husky whisper as he repeatedly told you, “I love you, I love you, you’re so perfect, mine, my sweet mate, I love you and our brood, you’re doing so well, made to take my cocks, my eggs, my children, mmmh,” As you hiccuped, sobbed and clenched around his cocks tightly. You were so, so close, so achingly close that you were crying and babbling to cum. N’Doul hummed, still going at that slow and steady pace, holding you on the edge of your release, relishing the way your vice cracked and cried out with desperation, just for him. When he sighed with pleasure and gave in, one of his hands coming down to rub and pinch your clit, he allowed your hands to go free so he could feel you cling to him, incomprehensible gibberish falling from your open, drooling mouth. Oh, you were so perfect, so pretty with your face so wrecked from your release. Your milking walls pulled him over with a few stuttery thrusts, the Naga sighing deeply with relief as his thick cum spilt inside your tight pussy, filling you up with more of his virile seed and claiming you thoroughly to ensure the eggs would remain cushioned and safe inside your womb. You sobbed and held onto his shoulders, whimpering and overwhelmed by the pleasure, your mind going completely blank in the aftermath of your release. N’Doul took advantage of your mindlessness to whisper in your air, cooing about how perfect you were, what a good mate you were for him, how deeply you craved to be filled with his eggs, knowing that your subconscious would take and keep his words. 

Even if you denied him, N’Doul knew that his words stuck in the back of your mind, influencing you in a steady wave. He’d seen it in the way you automatically tried to curl up with him as you slept, how you sometimes hovered nearby him when he returned from his hunting, the few moments you hesitated and turned back from trying to escape once more. Carefully, N’Doul turned you onto your side, the coils of his tail remaining around your full figure as his spent cocks slipped out of you, his hold on your body lose and protective instead of keeping you captured. He felt you twist and kiss the side of his scales sweetly, tiredly mumbling something before you fell asleep, allowing the Naga to pull away and finish preparing the meat for your meal tonight. 

Chapter Text

You could feel the piercing eyes of your Professor staring directly at you, even from across the lunch hall. Swallowing thickly, you tried to ignore it, laughing and nodding along to your friends as they told you all about the party they went to last night. If they could tell you were distracted by something, they were kind enough not to mention it. You picked at your food, trying oh so desperately to ignore Professor Kakyoin’s stare. God, why did he keep staring at you? What did he find so interesting about you? Did you do something to piss him off? Glancing back at the redhead, you bit back a grimace at the creepy look in his eyes, a shudder of distrust rushing down your spine.

Ever since that one terrible elevator ride where he’d taken advantage to... touch and feel you through your clothes, Professor Kakyoin had kept his eyes firmly focused on you. It was as if something had clicked into place for your Professor as if that one moment had changed things for his side of your professional relationship, and you were becoming more concerned as the weeks passed by. You had gone out of your way to avoid spending any one on one time with Professor Kakyoin, humiliated and terrified after the way he’d so inappropriately ground himself against you and it was starting to draw the attention of others, you were sure. It wasn’t necessarily that Professor Kakyoin wasn’t handsome - quite the contrary, to be honest, the redhead was one of the most stunning men you’d ever seen in your life - but you only saw him as your teacher. The memories of that day, of that elevator ride - you shuddered in disgust, remembering the feeling of his fingers dragging over the crotch of your underwear, the tips just barely touching your clit before you’d been able to tear yourself away. You’d had to step out on the wrong floor, but with the way Professor Kakyoin had been touching and grinding up against you, you were more afraid of staying in the same closed-off space as him when the other students stepped out.

You shudder to think about what would have happened if you’d stayed. That elevator was well known to get stuck at random points in the day. The faculty had been uninterested in fixing it, for whatever reason, and you were beginning to think there was some kind of conspiracy going around. Shaking your head, you tried to push the thought from your mind, trying to ignore the memories of Kakyoin pressing against your back, his breath hot on your skin, voice so soft you’d had to strain your hearing to pick up what he’d said, “I’m madly in love with you, (Y/N), did you know that? You look so good wearing such a short skirt - mmmh, just lean back a little more into me, darling,” forcing you to pretend you hadn’t heard his words as he’d become bolder and more aggressive despite the other students surrounding you. Swallowing thickly, you ignored the heat on your cheeks, forcefully taking a bite out of your food, your teeth clicking painfully against the metal tongs of your fork. You barely noticed that your friends had finished their food and started to leave, too lost in your thoughts as you distractedly mumbled goodbyes to all of them, your (E/C) eyes glaring at your food. You tried not to remember how that powerlessness had made you feel, how uncomfortably wet you’d felt once you’d gotten away, the strange, burning throb in the pit of your gut. You’d felt disgusted with yourself for feeling turned on from your Professor’s unwanted attention. You knew it was an instinctual response, that your body didn’t really have much of a choice... ugh. 

You swallowed back the anger that you felt welling up and forced yourself to continue eating your meal, unaware that Professor Kakyoin had stood from his chair and was making his way to your table, the redhead stalking through the nearly empty lunch hall like a predator stalking its prey. Just as you were about to finish your meal, you jolted when the chair right next to you scraped against the floor, your head jerking up as you turned to face your redheaded Professor. Kakyoin gave you a wolfish grin, slinging an arm casually around the back of your chair, shifting the two of you around just a little so that no one would be able to see him past the huge and conveniently placed flowerpot behind him. You swallowed thickly, anxiety clawing at the back of your throat as those bright, intense purple eyes - so strange and almost inhuman, you’d never thought anyone could have purple eyes before - locking with your (E/C) ones. You flinched slightly as you felt Kakyoin’s fingers trail over the soft skin of your shoulder, cursing yourself for choosing to wear a tank top to combat the heat, “P-Professor! I didn’t see you there!” You spoke, nervously chuckling as Kakyoin hummed, leaning further into your personal space. You fiddled idly with your fork, clenching your fist around the handle and wondering if you’d be kicked out of school if you stabbed your Professor.

... probably. 

Kakyoin smirked as he continued to rub your arm, the redhead leaning uncomfortably close into your personal space, “Oh, I’m sorry for disturbing you, (Y/S/N), you just seemed a little lonely eating here by yourself,” The Professor crooned, his voice silky and soft, the tone sending shivers of conflicting arousal and revulsion up your spine. You mumbled something in response, probably telling the redheaded Professor that you were fine, which Kakyoin ignored, crossing his legs comfortably as he continued to speak with you, “ See, I’ve been thinking - for a while now - that I might have made you a little... uncomfortable with my actions in the elevator,” You ducked your head to try and hide your grimace, your grip around your fork turning white-knuckled and tense, silently debating with yourself whether going to jail for murder would be worth getting away from your Professor, “I know my actions weren’t exactly the most professional, of course, and I wanted to deeply apologise for acting in such a manner. I’m afraid I’ve been feeling a little, ah, tense recently - oh it’s nothing you need worry about of course,” Kakyoin was quick to reassure your nonexistent worry for him, though you kept your mouth shut in order not to reassure him that you had absolutely no interest in his private life. Still, the redhead smiled in a decidedly sickly sweet manner, the arm not currently around your shoulders coming down to rest - just a tad bit too high for your comfort - on your upper thigh, “I’ve just been unable to find a partner to... work through my more base desires. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you - but you understand, of course, don’t you?”

You abso-fucking-lutely did not, but you also didn’t want to aggravate your Professor’s aggressive friendliness just in case he might get the wrong ideas from your response. Swallowing thickly, you calmly scooted just a little bit away, trying to ignore Kakyoin’s sharp, disappointed frown as the hand on your upper thigh fell away, leaving just his arm around your shoulders, “It’s fine. I get it. Just... I just think our, uhm, relationship should remain strictly professional. I’d like for this to be put behind us - live and let live, you know?” You said, trying so hard not to babble nervously as you usually did, plucking at the fraying edges of your tank top. Kakyoin hummed, pretending to mull your words over, scooting just a tad bit closer so that your sides were pressed together. You tried not to recoil from the touch, your barely hidden discomfort being ignored by your Professor as he studied you. Gods, but you were just so pretty to Kakyoin - while most would call you plain-looking, almost mousy with your baggy clothing and the lacklustre amount of makeup you put on during the day - the Professor couldn’t help but think you were one of the most beautiful people he’d seen in a long, long time. You were exactly his type - unnoticeable, shy, the way you acted around people you were interested in showing your virginal status - and, well, who could blame the redheaded Professor from pursuing a little something extra with one of his favourite students. He was getting up in years, after all, and he’s been thinking about settling down in the near future.

You were unaware of the nature of Kakyoin’s thoughts and intentions, the redhead holding you close to his side for several long moments longer than was comfortable before he finally sighed and released your shoulders, pulling back so suddenly that you felt dizzy, “Hmm, I suppose you’re right. I shouldn’t expect you to be all that comfortable with trying for a more... intimate relationship,” You bit back a disgusted noise at the double entendre, keeping your head ducked low as Professor Kakyoin stood from his seat, dusting off his green suit and lifting his messenger bag to rummage through it. You were surprised when the redhead placed a cupcake in front of you, the unprofessional icing work on the top telling you that this was homemade. Your (E/C) eyes looked back up at Kakyoin in surprise, shocked to see the familiar, kind expression that had replaced your Professor’s previously intense one. Ah... it seemed he’d only been so intense because he was worried you might have reported him. Something settled in the pit of your gut, Kakyoin giving you his patented polite smile, the Professor tipping his head to indicate the cupcake in front of you, “An apology, for the other day.”

“Oh... thank you,” You murmured, taking the proffered cake and unwrapping it, not noticing the hungry, lustful look Kakyoin made when you took a bite from it. The cake was soft and moist, sweet and tangy in a way that reminded you of something citrusy. Though there was a bit of an off taste, you chalked it up to being homemade - you weren’t sure if Kakyoin baked regularly, so maybe it was just a mistake he’d made while preparing the batter. You hummed softly, kind of glad you were given something sweet and tasty, standing from your seat as you shot your Professor one last look, “Uhm... I guess I’ll see you around then, Professor Kakyoin,” You mumbled lifting your bag and taking another bite of the cupcake, unaware of the shudder that rocked Kakyoin’s body, the redhead’s hard, aching cock hidden behind the back of the chair he’d been sitting in. When he murmured his goodbye, you turned and left the lunch hall, finishing the oddly tasting cupcake and tossing the wrapper into the nearby bin.

Chapter Text

“Your cooking has improved immensely, habibti,” The man sitting across from you purrs as he takes a bite from the curry you’d made. His cane leans on the table beside him, both an indication of supposed ‘weakness’ and a lingering omen for you to behave. You swallow around the lump of food in your throat, forcing it down though it tastes like nothing, going through the motions of feeding yourself. N’Doul seems content and that keeps you from panicking outright, though the metallic cuffs around your wrists rub at your delicate skin and the welts on your back sting terribly, “Is this a new recipe? I didn’t think we had the ingredients for curry,” Though your ‘husband’s’ tone is light, there’s a soft threat beneath his words, a suggestion that you explain yourself before N’Doul thinks of the worst possible outcome and acts accordingly.

You hum tonelessly, picking at your food as you try to keep a calm, steady tone, “The groceries you ordered came today while you were at work,” You murmur, ignoring the way N’Doul tensed up, his pale eyes locking on your figure, sharp and bright. Even though you both knew there was no way you could have left the house without alerting N’Doul to your escape, you were quick to reassure the black-haired man, unwilling to bear his possessiveness tonight once more, “I told them to leave it at the door - said I had a cold and didn’t want to get others sick...” You trailed off, your last few words practically a whisper as you cowered beneath the oppressive silence coming from N’Doul. You clutched the cutlery in your hands tightly, white-knuckling the wooden utensils as you waited for your husband to respond. You weren’t allowed to use the metal cutlery; not after you’d tried to stab N’Doul with one of the knives three days after he’d first brought you ‘home’. 

N’Doul is stiff and silent for several moments too long, and you hardly jumped when Geb wrapped its wet body around your calf and up to your inner thighs, the water-based Stand pressing almost painfully into your pulse there. You know he’s searing for a tick, a tell that you were lying right to his face, as you’d done several times in the past. Still, you sat there, calm, still, scooping another forkful of ‘delicious’ tasting food to your mouth. You hadn’t been able to taste anything for days now, you thought bitterly - everything just seemed to have the flavour of ash and disappointment in it. You heard N’Doul release a small sigh, the tension in his body and the Stand around your inner thigh dissipating into thin air, the handsome man that had once been your Professor smiling beatifically at you, “Ah, that’s good to hear. We wouldn’t want to involve others in our marital disputes again, now would we, dearest?” You swallowed thickly, your head moving in a small, submissive nod, satisfying the man across from you as he hummed lightly. You watched N’Doul take another bite of food, feeling suddenly queasy from the amount you’d eaten yourself. Carefully, you set your utensils down with a soft clink, pushing your half-eaten plate to the side and clutching your hands in your lap instead. You saw N’Doul raise his brow in response, “Aren’t you going to finish your plate, (Y/N)?”

You grimaced at N’Doul’s disapproving tone, the older man scraping the remaining bits of curry and rice into his spoon. While you knew curry was supposed to be eaten by hand with nan bread, you didn’t know how to make that yet. Since your ‘marriage’ to your Professor, your access to the internet had been severely restricted and supervised. You weren’t even allowed a social media presence anymore. So, getting new recipes to test and try out from online was difficult - especially since N’Doul insisted on doing all the grocery shopping online. While your ‘husband’ had told you he’d be more than delighted to fund an online cooking course for you, the idea made you bulk and you’d rejected it without thought. Following an online cooking course would just rub salt in the wounds, the knowledge that the degree you’d worked so hard for had gone to waste - all because you made the mistake of sleeping with your Professor and letting him get attached, “I’m not that hungry today. I’ll put it in the fridge and eat it tomorrow,” The lie slipped from your tongue with ease, and though N’Doul shot a look in your general direction, he said nothing in response to your words. Scooping the last of his food into his mouth, you waited patiently for the older man to set his fork and knife on his plate before you stood up and murmured that you were going to go wash up.

As you made to pass N’Doul to enter the kitchen, plate in hands, you jolted in surprise when he reached out and stopped you, “The dishes can be taken care of later, habibti,” He spoke calmly and you grimaced as the soft tone of his voice, his hand closing around your left forearm, rough thumb rubbing over the soft skin of your pulse, “Come, sit with me, I’ve missed your company while I was at work,” N’Doul purred pulling you closer until you sat in his lap, quiet and stiff for just a few moments before melting into his embrace when he plucked the dirty dishes from your hands and wrapped his arms around your waist. Humming happily, N’Doul buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling slowly, relishing the warm feeling of contentment that curled in his chest as you leaned into his embrace. Ahhh, he’d missed just being able to hold you. While he adored teaching the minds of college students and helping them reach their highest potential in his classes, he hated that his work took him so far and so long away from you. Unfortunately, he couldn’t yet trust that you would behave if he brought you into campus as his ‘personal assistant’, though he looked forward to the day he could. Resting his chin in the crook of your neck, N’Doul turned his face to press a sweet kiss to your cheek, unable to stop the smirk that curled his lips when he leaned into the affectionate gesture, “So, what have you been doing to keep yourself busy lately, my love? I hope you haven’t gotten too bored with being left on your lonesome.”

You hummed, trying to remain disinterested and cold, though you found that difficult to do when your body craved N’Doul’s kinder, gentler touches. Traitor, you thought bitterly to yourself, the stinging welts on your back seemingly soothed by the warmth coming from your husband’s chest. Fucking hell, you hated the fact that you were touch starved, that you wanted - no, needed N’Doul to touch you. Swallowing thickly, you tried not to show how badly his touch affected you, “Mmmh,” You shrugged with the shoulder N’Doul wasn’t resting his chin on, trying to ignore the soft stroking touches against your sides, “I’ve been alright. It just gets lonely sometimes,” Fuck, fuck, fuck, you goddamn fucking idiot, why did you say that?! You grimaced when you felt your Professor tense beneath you, carefully keeping your face turned away from him as he furrowed his brows, “It’s not a big deal, I’m fine, I just-” You cut yourself off and shake your head, mumbling something weakly and shrugging again. I mean... you weren’t going to deny that you felt bored and lonely while N’Doul was away. You had little to no contact with the people from the outside world, the only people N’Doul would tolerate speaking to you were the members of your immediate family and even then it had to be while he was there with you. It sucked, plain and simple, and maybe you did want to make your Professor turned kidnapper turned husband a little guilty for isolating you like this.

“I’m sorry that that’s how you’ve been feeling lately, habibti,” N’Doul murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. The vindictive part inside you died a pathetic death beneath the calm way your husband spoke, his voice giving no inflexion to show if he felt any guilt regarding how he kept you locked away. Instead, he sighed and tightened his grip around you, his voice a low, tired murmur, N’Doul flipping the guilty conscious onto you with his next words, “I understand that you’d feel bitter and angry that I’m keeping you away from other people. I just worry that you’d lie to them and tell them that you aren’t in love with me... I just want you to admit it to yourself first, you understand, don’t you?” You bit your lower lip, trying to ignore the heavy weight that lodged itself in your gut. How? How was N’Doul always able to turn your passive-aggressive attempts at guilt-tripping him back on yourself? God, you fucking.... you hated him, despised him, there was no way in hell you could ever allow yourself to love someone this-this-this depraved- “It’s okay to love me, my darling... Please just love me,” N’Doul practically whispers into the sensitive skin of your shoulder, his words and warm breath shooting shivers down your spine. 

You made a soft noise, shifting in N’Doul’s grip and squirming away, “I have to go wash the dishes,” You mumbled, relieved when your husband sighed and released his grip on you after one last kiss to your temple. You skittered off his lap and grabbed the dirty plates from the table, hurrying into the kitchen and setting them inside the sink with an uncomfortably loud clang. You flinched and sighed, leaning against the kitchen countertop and burying your face in your hands, rubbing at your tired eyes, trying to push back the burning itch that gave away how close you were to breaking down into tears. Inhaling shakily, you released your breath in a slow sigh, squashing down the lump of guilt at the back of your throat as best you could. 

You refused to let him manipulate you into loving him. You point-blank fucking refused, you thought to yourself as you aggressively began scrubbing the dirty kitchenware and dishes clean, ignoring the feeling of N’Doul’s sightless gaze pointed in your direction. You heard him tap his cane against the floor, humming to himself before he left you to your devices. You slowed once he’d left you, the sting of disappointment in your chest going unheeded. You knew, you just knew that you were so, so fucked. 

You had to get out of here before it was too late.

Chapter Text

If you had to stay with this Naga for another moment longer, you were sure you were going to lose it.

Swimming around the cave Risotto insisted you call ‘home’, you tried to calm the nervous aggravation that rushed through your body. Time was running out for you and both you and the Naga that kept you prisoner knew it. You shuddered, feeling the unfertilised brood in your lower abdomen shift and rub against each other, pleasant tingles of warmth flowing up your spine and briefly making you all hazy and needy. Shaking your head, you growled in annoyance, glaring down at the subtle swell - though the eggs of your species were usually fairly small compared to most other Mer, you knew that if they were fertilised by the Naga that they would grow much, much larger. Certainly, you’d never mated with a Naga - or anyone, for that matter, at least, not for breeding - but considering Risotto’s size, you knew the eggs would grow far larger than you were comfortable with.

Hence, your need to come up with a good escape plan. 

Flicking your fins, you tried desperately to ignore the steadily building heat at the base of your abdomen. You could already see that the muscles that usually closed off your egg sac had already started to peak open, the soft, tender and sensitive muscles quivering from any minute brush against them. The small pearl at the top protruded just enough to be noticeable, a clear indication that you were ready to be bred - something the Naga luckily hadn’t noticed just yet, thank the currents for small mercies. Your pheromones hung thickly in the water, sticky trails leading right back to you, the scent maddening to your increasingly feverish mind as your hands began to pat and grab at the walls of the cave. You wanted out, out, out, you needed to leave, needed to find someone, anyone, to fill the aching, painful emptiness inside you. Groaning in growing irritation, you turned from the stoic, still walls at the back of the cave and thrashed over to the closed-off entrance. You poked your fingers through the tiny slits that allowed fresh saltwater into Risotto’s secret abode, your heavy body pushing against the rock, hoping that it would dislodge and roll away enough for you to slip through. Unfortunately, your body was weakened from constantly laying around in the cave, allowing the brood to swell and grow and increase in numbers, the eggs almost certainly on the edge of no longer being viable. You were almost hoping that they wouldn’t be - at least then Risotto might let you go... right?

The voice at the back of your mind, the one that had purred and crooned happily every time Risotto came back to the nest with a ‘gift’ for you - food, seaweed to improve the nest, pearls to decorate your tail with, fresh coral to keep you company, all traditional gifts of courtship that made your heart flutter even as you rejected them - whispered that maybe you didn’t want to leave. You always pushed that voice to the back of your mind, firmly believing that you wanted nothing to do with the Naga, that he was terrifying and a threat to your safety, but it never truly worked. Your mind flashed back to how he’d curl around you, one hand on the bulge in your belly, his voice a soft rumble as he checks whether you’re ‘ready’ for mating. His touch made you feel electric nowadays, the growing sensitivity of your skin and your increasingly lax entrance proving that you were increasingly close to falling into your mating frenzy. Swallowing thickly, your (E/C) eyes became half-lidded, your heavy body swimming back over to the plush nest you’d made for yourself and your eventual brood. It was so hard to deny Risotto nowadays, your body wanting him to touch you longer, to hold you closer, to wrap the thick coils of his snake-body around yours and force you to take his cocks, his seed, his-

You whimpered as one of your fingers lightly stroked the open lips to your egg sac, the flesh quivering and slick beneath the carefully soft pads of your fingers. It wouldn’t do to nick yourself with your claws. A soft moan spilt from your lips as you pressed two of the small digits inside you, reaching as deep as you could, frustrated but trembling in pleasure when you filled the hot, wet cavern with your fingers. Gods, everything felt so hot, so slick, mmh - you whined and bucked your hips weakly, unable to stop yourself now that you had started, the pheromones you’d steadily been releasing growing thicker and increasing in production. The eggs shifted with all of your minute movements, the feeling of the dense, round orbs grinding against your inner walls sent shockwaves of pleasure up your spine, drawing breathy little noises of need from your lips. The scent of your lust was so thick, trails of it seeping from the edges of the boulder, drawing the coiled up figure waiting patiently outside the cave’s attention. Risotto glanced up from his weapon crafting, his long, forked tongue flicking out of his mouth, tasting the salt of the sea, the scent of some prey nearby and the delicious, heady scent of a Mer at the peak of their mating frenzy. A low rumble vibrated from the pit of his chest, his red and black eyes shooting towards the boulder covering the entrance to the cave. A few moments later, your desperate, lustful trill of his name - a mating call, the Naga thought with smug satisfaction - reverberated from the cave.

Risotto wasted no time once he’d heard your call for him. So what if you were currently not in your right state of mind - the Naga had been waiting for weeks now, patiently watching the lips to your egg sac opening, pretending not to notice the way you shivered and arched into his touches, the thick, heady nature of your scent. Hissing, Risotto pushed the boulder aside just enough for his body to slip through, carefully turning it back to its closed position so that no other predators - or rival breeders - would slip into the cosy little den he’d made for himself and you. Once he’d ensured that nothing else could enter, Risotto turned his attention to the gorgeous sight before him, his tongue flicking from his mouth continuously as he swam with slow, powerful movements, “Oh you poor, poor thing,” He rumbled, drawing your attention away from what you were doing with a snap, a soft whimper of his name spilling from your lips. It’s enough to have Risotto curl around you, coiling his long, sinuous body around yours, ensuring that the base of his hips are aligned with yours, “Mmmh, you smell delicious, carina... so perfect and sweet, Gods, you have no idea how amazing you are, do you?”

“Risotto,” You whine, hands moving away from your spread lips to wrap weakly around his neck, drawing the Naga closer so he could rub his face and the full length of his body against yours. Your mouth dropped open eagerly as he kissed you, his hips and tail grinding against yours, stilling the screaming, instinctual part of your mind that wanted to thrash and struggle from his grip. A choked moan left you as Risotto forced his tongue into your mouth and down your throat, the hard, dripping lengths of his cocks slipping out of the slit near his pelvis. You whimpered and pulled back from the kiss, panting and sighing, arching into Risotto’s body with relish, trying to shift your form so you could take his cocks, those wonderful cocks, deep inside your needy cunt, “P-Please, I need you, need you so bad inside me, please breed me,” You mewled, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder and rubbing your cheeks against his skin, drenching him in your pheromones, marking him as your intended mate. Risotto chuckled roughly, his voice smug as he clutched your hips in his hands, holding you still and keeping you from moving anymore. You whimpered, nearly sobbing with need, your body feeling hot, achy and heavy, “Please, please, please, it hurts, need to feel you, need to be filled, I-I’m so full, wanna carry your brood, Risotto, please,” You were openly weeping at this point, your desperate need to fertilise the clutch inside your belly making you give in, forgetting completely that you were being kept in this cave, by Risotto’s side, against your will.

Risotto shushed you softly, dipping and grinding his hips against yours, his cocks slipping wetly over your labia and clit, teasing you and making you feel wilder and more desperate, his red and black eyes drinking in your lustful expressions, “Look at you, so needy... all this time you rejected me and now you want me? Such a teasing little Mer, my (Y/N),” He rumbled, aligning his cocks with your entrance, pushing just the tips inside your tight heat and stilling, teasing you with the small stretch and watching you thrash weakly, bucking your hips to try and force him to penetrate you, “Shhh, carina, just stay still and let me take care of you... you’re going to look so good, full of my brood,” Risotto’s voice gradually became more and more gravelly, the sound causing your body to shiver with need. You whimpered, and nodded, leaning back in the nest and allowing the Naga to position you as he saw fit, your tail twining with his intimately and causing Risotto’s heart to skip a beat at the feeling. Sighing slowly, the Naga held you down, admiring the sight you made, flushed and hazy eyed, your hair floating around your head like silk, a softness flashing over his expression before he cruelly forced the full length and girths of his cocks inside you with one steady thrust. You choked on a cry, back arching into a painful bow, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as pleasure and pain burst through your mind, spinning your thoughts dizzily before they settled and focused purely on the sensation of absolute fullness that encompassed you. 

Risotto hissed thickly, fangs clenched and on display, the sight causing your inner walls to flutter and clench around his cock. His claws pricked into your sides, drawing little trails of blood, the scent of which spurred Risotto into action, the large Naga pulling out of you quickly and thrusting harshly back inside you. You cried out, lust and pleasure coursing through your veins, your mate rutting into you with hard, deep movements, steadily setting a brutal pace, his cocks pummeling your tender pussy into submission beneath him. You wailed and moved into his thrusts weakly, the both of you lost to the mating frenzy that took over your minds, incomprehensible gibberish, clicking, trilling and hissing coming from both of you as you writhed, thrust and fucked against each other. It felt... heavenly to your heat fogged mind, the unfertilised brood deep inside your egg sac shifting around and rubbing against your inner walls, the hard dome of your lower abdomen pressing into the hard planes of Risotto’s stomach. The Naga grabbed your wrists and held them down, snarling filth and praise at you all at the same time, his rough, almost angry pace never slowing or stopping as the need to breed you full with little half Naga half Mer children filled his mind with feverish heat. You whimpered and moaned, barely able to hold on to the pleasure that rocked through your core, begging for more, faster, harder, deeper, anything to feel the tips of Risotto’s cocks pummeling the entrance to your womb. Your mind spun dizzyingly, your clit almost felt raw from the continuous grinding Risotto did against your body, and you were so close to the edge you could scream. You tail twitched and bucked with every thrust, Risotto growling in your ear, demanding you "Cum for me, cum on my cocks, make me breed you, milk me of my seed so that I’ll fill you with my clutch, force you to stay here and be mine.”

You wailed as the pleasure exploded in the back of your mind, body going tense and jerking roughly in Risotto’s grip. The Naga hissed and leaned down, biting roughly into the crook of your neck, barely missing the thick vein beneath your skin as he marked you primally as his pretty little Mer mate. You wailed, the water around the two of you vibrating from the sound, your inner walls clenching so tightly around Risotto’s cocks you practically forced the tips to rub against the entrance to your womb. The milking, tight clutch of your pussy and the taste of your blood on his tongue drew Risotto over the edge alongside you, the Naga growling and biting deeper into your shoulder. You whined as thick, heavy ropes of cum filled your over-sensitive pussy, Risotto’s cocks feeling just that little bit thicker, harder as they jerked and spilt more and more virile seed deep inside your womb. You could almost feel the heat seep into your belly, coating your brood and fertilising the clutch of eggs, a breathy whimper and arch of your back encouraging Risotto to roll his hips once, twice in slow, short bursts, “Risotto, please, ‘s too much,” You whined, your rational mind screaming that this was your chance, to get away from the Naga while he was still distracted - but you were just so, so tired and full and satisfied. 

For the next week, the two of you would spend the majority of your time together mating and breeding to ensure that the clutch inside your belly was full and viable with little... beasts of the ocean. You would beg and plead to be bred, a far cry from the angry, fearful and reluctant Mer Risotto had first met. By the time your mating frenzy was done, you would be too sore and too thoroughly entwined with Risotto to even think about escaping, one of the Naga’s large, clawed hands resting on the full swell of your lower abdomen as he slept securely behind you. 

Chapter Text

Holding your work card up to the scanner you wait for a few moments until it beeps. Your mind feels a hundred miles away from you, spinning faster than the speed of light, but you force yourself to calm down. You couldn’t break down now... not when the Professor needed your help taking care of one of the injured Mers the facility kept until they were ready to return to the wild.

The beep of the scanner breaks you out of your thoughts and you notice you’d been tapping your feet in an arrhythmical pattern. Inhaling sharply, you grumbled to yourself as you stepped through the sliding doors, muttering that you shouldn’t have had that last cup of coffee. You hear your colleagues greet you from the pool area where the nearly ready to be rehabilitated Mers swim in lazy circles together. Ugh - you wished you’d been shifted for the easy jobs today. Giving a half-hearted response to them, you stuffed your card back into your lab pockets and headed down the steps leading into the underground recovery space of the facility. You cursed the upper management for their oversight regarding the building’s layout; why didn’t they just invest in one of the large, abandoned warehouses close to the pier? It’d be much, much easier for you and your colleagues in the long run, but nooooooooooo, the facility founders wanted it to be closer to the city centre so you could get visitors and give them tours of the place, potentially stressing out the healing Mers and causing a drop in survival rates-

You rear your angry thoughts back in. Breathe, just breathe (Y/S/N). There’s no need to get so worked up about the stupid oversights regarding building management and location. You just had to focus on your job for today and pray you’d make it out alright. You reached the bottom of the stairs and had to fight the urge to scream in frustration at the long hallway in front of you. You so, so desperately didn’t want to work here today. Good fucking lord you hated working in this section of the facility. It was always so terribly quiet and almost maddening. Plus, the Mer you were supposed to take care of today was known for being a huge fucking asshole. You’d only had to deal with him a handful of times, but it was enough that you knew, once he was healed and back out at sea, you and several of your colleagues were gonna go out and get absolutely blasted in celebration. You fumed as you marched down the hall, trying to ignore the dread underlying your anger; your boss had been incredibly cryptic about why your shift had been changed at the last minute - you’d been looking forward to helping take care of the baby Mers while they were still here - and now you had to deal with the Asshole Supreme Overlord. 

Well, technically his name was Jotaro, but you were still gonna call him Asshole Extreme Overlord. Bastard deserved it.

Stepping through the last door on the right, you came face to face with your disagreeable patient, his intense icy blue gaze locked on the door with a glare. Holding back the sigh you wanted to release, you forced a cheerful smile onto your face, ignoring the way he narrowed his gaze distrustfully at you. Settle down (Y/S/N) - you just had to deal with him for the next four hours before you took your break and could beg with one of the other caretakers to switch out with you, “Good morning Jotaro!” You chirped in a falsely cheerful tone, turning your back to him and carefully taking off your lab coat, hanging it up on the nearby coat rack. You didn’t notice the large Orca Mer’s pupils dilate at the sight of you, nor the way his nostrils flared as he leaned his head over the edge of the huge tank he was in, continuing to stare at you as you stepped to the side behind the semi-impermeable wall. Jotaro huffed softly, so soft you couldn’t hear the sound, in disappointment as you did so, trying to crane his head out further to try and look around the changing space, “Seems like we’re going to have to change those bandages of yours today! I hope you’ve already been fed!” You continued chattering as you got changed out of your professional clothing, grateful that you’d had the foresight to wear a swimsuit today. Once you were out of your clothes, you quickly grabbed the nearby wetsuit and tugged it on, wincing slightly in discomfort when it clung to your figure. 

Jotaro didn’t make a sound in response and you rolled your eyes. Usually, most Mers were at least polite, if not chatty, when it came to interacting with their temporary caretakers. Unfortunately, it seemed that Jotaro was both the largest and most stoic of Mers you’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. Still, you continued to make idle conversation, tugging on a pair of flippers and grabbing the nearby diving equipment, “Well, I heard that your wounds are doing much better now than they were last time I was here. Considering your size, I think you’ll probably be transferred to one of the big outside pools sometime soon, especially since the current ‘pod’ that’s being held in it are close to being released,” Surprisingly, Jotaro hummed in response to your words, the large Orca Mer watching your figure change through the patterned glass. While he wasn’t able to see the details of your figure through the changing room’s glass, he could see the curves of your silhouette, the idea that you were stripping yourself of those pesky clothes - potentially naked behind that glass - causing Jotaro’s cocks to throb hotly inside his sheath, the large Mer aching to feel your smaller body against his. Ever since he’d first woken up in this accursed place, Jotaro has had his eye on you. At first, it was out of distrust - especially since he’d woken to find you in the water with him, your hands on his injured tail as you patched him up after his fight and subsequent beaching - but over time, he’d became fascinated with you. You were... an interesting human, to say the least. You were always sweet and polite to him, despite how aggressive and rude he’d been towards you, and you always gave him such a bright, dazzling smile whenever you joined him. Your touch was always soft, gentle as you helped clean and bandage his wounds, making sure that Jotaro was alright and never making sudden movements towards him, always asking before you did.

Steadily, those feeling of fascination had twisted into some softer, a yearning filling Jotaro’s large frame whenever you slipped into the water with him and helped him take care of himself. Every brush of your hands against his tail sent tingles of warmth up his spine, suffusing his cheeks and causing him to blush darkly. Lately, he’d began dreaming of you coming into his tank, naked and vulnerable and so easy to kill, and instead of drowning you, Jotaro would take you, pin you to the glass, fuck you until you cried and begged for mercy, proclaiming sweetly that you loved him. The thoughts made him shudder, his attention forcefully snapping to the present as he felt a disturbance in the water, Jotaro’s icy blue gaze falling to your - unfortunately clothed - form. You slipped into the tank with him, the mouthpiece that would allow you to breath held between your lips, silencing your endless prattling with ease. You were humming in the back of your throat and Jotaro slipped under the water with you, watching as you swam close to the nearly healed wound on his side. Your soft hands reached out to gently begin unwrapping the wet and dirtied bandages around the fresh scarring, your touch shooting a thrill of desire through Jotaro’s abdomen, causing something hot and hungry to clench in the pit of his gut. Without either of you noticing, the Orca’s twin cocks hardened and twitched, beginning to slip out of Jotaro’s sheath as he watched, mesmerised, while you checked over his wounds. How he ached to just reach out and grab you, to hold you still against his form and tell you he loved you, a full-body shudder rushing through Jotaro as you trailed gentle fingers along the full scar. He watched your brows furrow in concern, your head shaking as you pulled away, much to his disappointment. He wished you didn’t have to wear that damned contraption on your face... he’d love to hear your soft voice speaking to him right now.

You left the water briefly, which drew Jotaro’s head back above the lip of his tank, his eyes watching as you removed the mouthpiece and shoved the goggles up your face, “Hmmm, well, it seems I won’t have to change your bandages anymore!” You said cheerfully, fighting the urge to do a little dance out of joy, turning away from Jotaro so you could hang the diving gear up on a nearby wall, unaware of the sharp frown of disappointment he shot you. Jotaro shifted and pulled himself up higher, finally aware that his cocks had slipped out of his sheath, though he could care less about them at the moment; he’d be able to take care of them in just a moment if he could just- “Hmm, I think I should go and grab you something to eat right about now. We should really be feeding you a couple of times a day instead of the common mealtime schedule we use for other Mers-!”

You shrieked in surprise and fear when you felt something brush against your ass. Jolting, you swung around to face Jotaro, surprised and terrified to see that the Orca Mer was halfway out of his tank. One of his large, muscular arms held onto the lip, holding his large upper body stable and out of the water, the other outstretched towards you. You flinched back in fear, staring wide-eyed as Jotaro groaned in aggravation, grunting and trying to force himself out of the tank further, his recently healed tail banging harshly against the glass, “Stay with me,” He growled, icy blue eyes locked on your face, watching you gape in surprise at his words, a trilling purr coming from somewhere deep in the centre of his chest, “It’s okay to love me. Please love me,” Jotaro crooned, his words almost echoing hypnotically, your face paling at what he’d said. You were so shocked that you didn’t have time to get further away from his grasping reach, the Orca Mer snatching one of your hands into his larger, rougher one, tugging you back towards him so he could hold it, palm side up, to his cheek. Jotaro sighed and closed his eyes, nuzzling your hand and pressing a soft kiss to the point where your pulse beat erratically, the Mer relishing the feeling of your tender touch against his face, “I want you to love me... want to make you mine,” Jotaro growled thickly, his constant movements drawing your (E/C) eyes down, the sight of two large, thick columns of flesh seeming to break you out of your shocked stupor.

You screamed and pulled away, scrambling backwards from Jotaro as his eyes snapped open, the Mer baring his fangs in a snarl as he tried to lurch out of the tank and grab you. You barely managed to slip under his grip, bolting for the door and wrenching it open. You felt the Orca Mer’s claws catch on your wetsuit, the slick material tearing as you barely managed to get away, leaving your back cold and exposed as you slammed and locked the door behind you. A loud, betrayed roar vibrated the door against your back, the wet and furious sounds of a large and angry Merman thrashing in his tank and sending water all over the floor following soon after. You swallowed thickly, clutching your hands over your chest, your back sliding against the door until you sat, hugging your knees and trying you best to fight off your oncoming panic attack.

You were not being paid enough to deal with this. 

Chapter Text

Things had been awfully quiet the last few weeks.

You glance out into the dusk that had settled over the forest, a nervous frown curling your lips as you sip from your tea, waiting for the clock to strike nine o’clock. You hadn’t seen that lousy fox man who claimed to be your loving husband, in weeks now. Even before he’d up and disappeared, he’d been acting incredibly dodgy, trying to touch you when you didn’t want to be touched, insisting on being in your space all the time, hell he’d even brought some moss and another soft plant-like material asking you what you would prefer to sleep on. Just... generally acting very strange. That’s not even to count on how he’d usually transform into his full fox form and run around you in circles, making those little barks and screeching noises that foxes usually did. At the time, you’d been more irritated and exhausted with his antics, and had snapped at him, trying to shoo him off with his ridiculousness. Now, however, you were concerned about his whereabouts, but not enough to go out looking for him.

Sighing slowly, you checked the time on the wall again and hummed lowly, taking a sip from your tea and reaching out to the sleeping pills in front of you. Since Kakyoin’s disappearance, there had been strange noises in the dead of night, the sounds keeping you from restful sleep. Grumbling to yourself, you tossed the pills back and swallowed the last of your tea, standing from your couch and unaware of the electric purple eyes that watched you get ready for bed by the forest’s edge. You hummed to yourself softly, peaking out into the treeline every so often, unsurprised and slightly relieved that Kakyoin still hadn’t returned. Though you were concerned that he’d just up and disappeared on you, you couldn’t deny that you were grateful he was gone; things had changed between the two of you since the day he’d ruined your farm in a fit of blinding rage. You were warier around him, tried to be more firm that he couldn’t keep coming around your farm and trying to bother you, which just succeeded in making him more needy and clingy when it came to you. You knew one of these days something was going to blow up between you both and you dreaded that day.

A yawn broke your thoughts and you sighed, your eyelids beginning to droop tiredly as you crawled into bed. Hopefully, with the pills, you won’t wake up from all the noises made during the night. As you settled in beneath your sheets, you thought you saw something come in through the window from the corner of your eye. Too tired and thinking it might just be a figment of your imagination, it didn’t take much longer for you to fall into a deep sleep, allowing the tall, lithe and furred form of your intruder to watch and touch you as much as he pleased. 

Kakyoin purred and crawled above you on the bed, his cheeks and nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck, the full length of his body splayed across you. He groaned and rubbed closer, whimpering when he felt the inviting heat of your blankets, your scent surrounding him and making his already feverish mind melt. Without a care that you might wake up - which you would not - The redheaded Kitsune tore your blankets from your form, his hands roaming the barely clothed figure with relish. Kakyoin’s hands pushed and pulled your lax form around, whining your name desperately and continuing to rub himself against you, coating you in his musky scent with relish, “(Y/N), my (Y/N), God, you have no idea how amazing you are, do you, darling?” Kakyoin panted roughly, long, broad tongue lapping at your cheek in something barely resembling a wet kiss, his naked hips grinding into the vee of your thighs. You mumbled something sleepily and stretched, trying to turn over only to be prevented by Kakyoin’s body, the Kitsune growling and holding you down firmly when you did, “No, no, no, you need to stay still, need to let your mate take care of you, shhh, so good, so good for me, yes.”

A soft sigh passed your lips when clawed hands tore your pyjamas, the cool air from the open window causing your nipples to pebble stiffly. Kakyoin cooed over the reaction, unable to hold himself back from ducking further down your body to lick and suck at your nipples, his hard, leaking cock humping the bedsheets and staining them with his scent. His mind spun wildly as your and his scents became more intertwined, thick and heady and causing his mouth to drool hungrily. Once he’d finished toying with your nipples, he continued making his way down, down, down, his nose drawn to the beginning stages of your arousal, pulling a guttural groan from the Kitsune’s throat, “Mmmmh, you smell so good, fuck, are you wet for me? You know you’re mine, don’t you, (Y/N)? That’s why you’re so fucking wet, hahh, fuck,” Kakyoin couldn’t stop his voice from growing huskier, the redhead burying his face between your thighs, forcing your legs to drape over his shoulders as he licked, sucked and thrust his tongue deep into your pussy. The broad tongue reached deep inside you, stretching you out and encouraging your cunt to produce more of that heavenly taste, Kakyoin’s electric purple eyes rolling back in bliss as your juices coated his tongue and mouth. You mewled sleepily above him, hips raising into his face in lazy half movements, which fueled Kakyoin to get in closer and force his tongue deeper. His expression, if you would have woken up to see it, was completely blissed out, and if he’d had the choice, Kakyoin would have been happy to remain between your legs, eating you out for the rest of his life.

Even in your sleep, you moaned and your face flushed darkly, little panting mewls falling from your lips. Your hands lazily clutched the pillows beneath your head, thighs clenching slightly around his head. Kakyoin whined thickly, grinding his cock into your bedsheets, the feeling of your inner walls tightening around his tongue was enough to pull him back to the present. Pulling away from your soaked pussy, Kakyoin admired how slick and hot you were, his mouth pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your belly, breasts and to your lips, where he sloppily kissed you as he dragged his cock between your dripping labia. Whining reedily, the Kitsune humped against you, trying to get the head of his cock to catch on your hole while he slobbered into your mouth, his need and the effects of his heat blurring his mind into something instinctual and wild. Finally, the tip caught and Kakyoin filled you with one sharp thrust, forcing his full dick into your pussy with a thick, wet noise. He broke the kiss to howl wetly, tongue lolling from between his shifting jaws, fangs grazing your soft cheeks. He was unable to keep himself still, his arms wrapping around your upper thighs as the Kitsune immediately began fucking you at a hard and brutal pace. His cock made wet noises, the meaty sounds of your bodies slapping against each other with his thrusts filled your room so much that they almost reverberated back to you both. You moaned, eyelids flickering restlessly, your body moving into the pleasure that Kakyoin forced upon you. He babbled and praised you thickly, his words interrupted by yips, growls and high pitched barks every so often, the Kitsune barely able to string together a coherent sentence with how overwhelmed he was by the burning, painful need in the pit of his gut. 

Pleasure coiled thick between you both, the air becoming steamy and the sounds of Kakyoin’s rutting were enough to break through your sleep. You moaned, tired, voice slurring through Kakyoin’s name, which caused the Kitsune to growl and go harder, faster, deeper. You moaned and arched, your eyes slipping open and rolling back, mind on the brink between being awake and sleep. You couldn’t make out what was happening, only that you were wet, it felt good, and you were so, so tired still. With a ragged gasp and a cry, you came around Kakyoin’s cock, the force of your orgasm being enough to have you knock right back out once more. Kakyoin wailed as he felt your inner muscles tighten like a vice around his dick, the Kitsune yammering your name over and over and over again, slamming his cock so deep inside you it grazed your cervix before he finally went completely still. His tail twitched and a shudder rocked down Kakyoin’s spine as your tight, milking walls pulled his cum from his throbbing cock, sticky ropes spilling deep into the back of your pussy and marking you with the thick, musky spend. Smelling the scent of himself on you, around you and inside you, Kakyoin whined and bucked his hips, his still hard cock dragging against your tender walls, forcing more of his seed deep inside you. It didn’t take long before he was unable to stop himself from thrusting into you once more, the first release of the night enough to properly fog Kakyoin’s mind, making him completely unaware to the world besides the soft, hot clutching of your body.

Kakyoin fucked and loved on you throughout the night, the Kitsune driven by a need to claim you, to fuck you, fill you while he was at the cusp of his heat, of his more virile time. He snarled and bite into your skin, leaving welts and dark bruises for you to find the next morning. His hands would push and pull your body, forcing you onto your knees, holding you against his chest so he could have you ‘ride’ him, draping your upper body over the edge of the bed to fuck down into your cunt, forcing copious amounts of seed to both floods out of your bruised cunt and stuffing it deeper into your womb. By the time morning broke, Kakyoin was spent, his long, lithely muscled body wrapped around your back and his arms around your waist, satisfied from a night of raucous fucking. You yourself wouldn’t wake up till late in the afternoon, your body throbbing and sore as your exhausted eyes slid open. You could barely comprehend how... bad yet good you felt, the stiffness of your muscles and a deep ache in your pelvis drawing your attention. You were so, so fucked and you couldn’t even comprehend it before you fell back to sleep once more. 

Chapter Text

You’re being a little busy body and keeping your nose stuck in the books again.

On the balustrade in the library above you, the Warlock N’Doul follows your movements through the vibrations he receives from his cane. the dark-skinned man’s eyes are shut, so he can concentrate better, while he holds one end of the cane to the side of his head. He was extremely lucky that you hadn’t spotted him yet. Not that you would have a reason to be angry if you did - this was one of the few ‘free’ open magic libraries for both witches and warlocks. Witches and warlocks, most, unfortunately, did not mingle together all that well. Because of some war a hundred thousand years ago, most magic users still had a lot of bad blood between each other, something N’Doul had never truly understood himself. Why should he feel aggression or dislike for a witch, wizard, necromancer or whatever other school of magic was out there when he could barely find it in himself to care about them on any given day. Though magic was fundamentally the same, it was difficult for a warlock like N’Doul to gain entrance to some of the more prestigious schools of magic - which was why, if he needed to research a new spell, he liked to come to this quaint little library instead.

And fortunately for him, so did you.

While you had never been... chummy with N’Doul, the warlock found that he was fascinated with you. Ever since the two of you had met, oh so many years ago when you were both attending the same no-name school with the same boring magic teachers and the same irritating kids, N’Doul has been... not necessarily obsessed with you, but certainly not a healthy kind of interested. A healthy kind of interested would have been for N’Doul to never seek you out after you had both graduated from school and have given you your personal space. A healthy kind of interested would be if N’Doul had at all spoken to you in school about how he felt about you. A healthy kind of interested would have been if you had at all been friends at the time and maybe tried dating but it never worked out. Unfortunately, instead of doing any of that, N’Doul had gone out of his way to aggravate, bother and hang around you when it was clear you were discomforted by his very presence. Now, he would have been the first to admit that he wasn’t exactly the most... kind or sweet warlock, and often he was just downright mean when he spoke to you, but gods - at the time he’d been too emotionally stunted and awkward to tell you how he really felt about you. Now that you were both grown and living in the general area - purely coincidental, N’Doul certainly hadn’t heard that you had moved here from some other classmates and immediately uprooted his life to become your neighbour, of course, he hadn’t - and he’d found that distance and time to reflect had made the heart grow fonder.

For him, in any case. You still seemed to dislike him. A shame, really - you were very cute when you smiled instead of glared.

“No, this won’t work either... hmm, maybe closer to the restricted section? Where was that located again...” N’Doul shivered lightly at the sound of your voice, the whisper carrying through the open, silent halls with ease. A soft expression could be found on the warlock's face as he ‘watched’ you head in the direction of the library stairs. Ah, it seemed you would be joining him up here after all then. Humming lowly, N’Doul didn’t bother to move, waiting for you to spot him. Once you did, his lips twitched up in a smug smirk, the blind warlock able to feel your glare as you finally reached the top step, “What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I told you I didn’t want to see your face around town!” 

You sounded incredibly annoyed, stomping over to N’Doul who chuckled and turned to face you, that smarmy smirk you hated so much on his face, “Ouch, how rude of you, (Y/N), I was just minding my business and enjoying the peace of the library,” He hummed, lifting himself to his full height, the handle of his cane held in his hands, the end tapping the ground in an annoying and rhythmic pattern, “Besides which, I believe I was here first, dearest. Isn’t it rude to demand someone leave such an interesting place of learning simply because you don’t like them? Tsk, tsk, tsk, how disappointing, and here I was thinking you’d have learned some manners by now, darling,” N’Doul teased you, which aggravated you more as you huffed and placed the books in your arms on a nearby table with a heavy thunk. 

“Oh come off it, N’Doul, we both know you’re full of shit,” You hissed angrily, poking the warlock in the chest sharply as you got into his personal space. N’Doul froze at the sudden change, his eyes flying open despite his inability to see, a light blush colouring his cheeks as you continued to rant at him. Oh... oh dear, he thought to himself, slowly inhaling and taking in the feeling of your body so close to his. It had been such a long time since he’d felt... excited by the presence of another person. N’Doul couldn’t help but lean slightly closer to you, which you mistook for an intimidation tactic, encouraging you to stand your ground and glared up at him angrily. Swallowing thickly, N’Doul tried not to show how badly he was being affected by being so close in your presence, his mind going completely blank as you continued to chew him out for the perceived slights he’d made against you. Dear gods, had he always felt like this around you? Had you always smelled so good? Had your aura always made shivers run up his spine? N’Doul couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed, all of the past coming back to rush into his head that he wasn’t able to stop himself from leaning in closer, closer, closer- “What the hell are you doing?!” 

Your shocked voice broke N’Doul out of the trance he’d been under, the warlock jolting in surprise and shaking his head. Confused, he found that his chin was resting on your shoulder, N’Doul having pressed the full length of his body against yours, pinning you against one of the large bookcases surrounding you both. He could feel your (E/C) eyes staring at him as he pulled away with a shocked inhale, his body still pinning yours, relishing the feel of you so tightly against him, that he felt dizzy from the aroused affection that rushed through his body, “You’re so beautiful...” He murmured despite himself, feeling you tense and make an incredulous noise, N’Doul quickly finding himself drawn back into your form, the warmth of your body, as he groaned thickly, “I wish you would just let me have you, (Y/N)… Do you know how long I’ve felt about you like this? Gods, I want you,” You released a gasp as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, your body recoiling and getting away from him. 

You stood, trembling, just a few steps away from N’Doul, the warlock having stumbled and leaned into the bookcase when you were no longer there, “You’re sick... don’t you ever touch me again, you-” You cut yourself off and shook your head, grabbing your books before storming away. N’Doul gripped his cane tightly and ‘watched’ as you left the library, a shaky sigh spilling from his still tingling lips. He’d almost lost himself... had it really been so easy to overpower you? Swallowing thickly, N’Doul tried to stop his mind from rushing through what had happened, his eyes sliding shut as he remembered the feeling of your warm body against his. 

Chapter Text

“Professor Vanilla! I didn’t expect to see you here today - were you looking for something?” Your sweet voice calls out to him from a little further down the hall, and Vanilla can’t hide the guilty flinch that twitches through his body. Luckily for the tall, brunet man, you weren’t the most observant person, and you simply thought he’d jolted in surprise. Hurrying over to your Professor, you smiled brilliantly up at him, your smile causing his heart to skip a beat as warmth suffused his face, “I thought you planned to cancel your classes today? I know some of your other students mentioned you would be.”

Vanilla hummed and remained silent, debating with himself on how to tell you that he’d cancelled his lessons because he’d come to the horrifyingly chilling realisation that his affections had shifted from Professor Brando to you. His favoured college student whom he’d also come to see as a friend. The student that had been helping him try to woo Professor Brando because you wanted the blond man to stop professing his love for you. It made him feel slightly sick, the idea that his affections could turn from Dio to you so quickly. He hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of seeing you today - and yet, the sight of you here, in front of him, makes his heart thump in the back of his throat loudly, “I felt a little ill and thought I might go home,” Vanilla said instead, refusing to meet your gaze directly, lest he gives away the fact that he’d been following you for close to an hour now. Calm down, Vanilla Ice, you were just going to work yourself up into a flustered frenzy. Seeing the concern on your face, Vanilla purposefully shrugged, as if he didn’t care that much, though he was trying desperately to keep himself under control, “I’m fine. There’s no need for you to worry about my health.”

You hummed and murmured something in agreement, though you remained by Vanilla Ice’s side, following him towards his office, “I’m just concerned is all. You’ve been acting a little strange recently and I wanted to make sure you were okay,” You said softly, and Vanilla resisted the urge to make a noise. His heart felt like it was going to explode from his chest at how sweet you were being. He couldn’t do this, he was about to go insane - the brunet man wanted to reach out and grab you, pin you up against the nearby wall and ravish you until you couldn’t say anything except his name. Swallowing thickly, Vanilla Ice resisted the urge to shudder as he felt your arm and hip brush against his by accident, your voice flowing through his ears like silk but your words wouldn’t stick and make sense in his mind. You were so close to him, Vanilla noticed, watching you from the corner of his eye, your face relaxed and easy-going. He wondered what expression you would make as you cum on his tongue, one hand tugging a leash that was connected to the collar around Vanilla Ice’s neck, babbling on and on and on about what a good boy he is for you. Fuck. Vanilla Ice could feel the heat coiling tightly in his gut as he opened the door to his office, swallowing the nervous saliva that filled his mouth, “Oh, thank you, Professor - I should go get something to drink from the cafeteria. Do you want anything?” You asked, so sweet and caring, so loving, Vanilla wanted you to look at him with adoration, wanted you to only pay attention to him and him alone.

“That won’t be necessary; I have a coffee maker and a tea kettle in my office,” The Professor stated easily, holding the door open for you to step inside. You did so with a smile, the scent of your perfume cloying his office, and Vanilla bit back the groan that threatened to leave his throat. Fuck... he was going to lose his mind because of you... he couldn’t take it, he was sure. Vanilla watched you walk over to his desk, your pencil skirt hugging the soft curves of your ass, and the brunet Professor could understand why Professor Brando lusted after you so much. Biting his lower lip, Vanilla glanced out into the hall once more, before closing the door behind him and locking it silently, hoping beyond hope that you didn’t hear the click of the lock sliding into place.

You didn't, luckily. You seemed to be far too preoccupied with rummaging through your bag. You were bent over near his desk, the skirt you wore outlining the fact that you were wearing nothing beneath your skirt but a thong, considering the lack of panty lines, and Vanilla Ice had to choke back the desperate noise that threatened to fall from his lips. As if hypnotised by the slight shake of your hips, Vanilla walked closer, slow, even footsteps muffled by the carpeting on the floor, his dark eyes glued to your ass. It would be so, so easy for him to pin you to the desk and take you over it. Vanilla Ice was sure he could force you to remain quiet as he showed you how deeply he loved you. He was sure you’d understand - you’d been so kind to him, had been his closest confidant for so long, of course, your brunet Professor would fall in love with you. His throat clicked wetly as he swallowed, large hands reaching out slowly, his eyes focused on your hips as he fantasised about the noises you would make in pleasure. You jolted and squeaked in surprise when you felt your Professor’s hands cup your hips and before you could turn around or ask what Vanilla Ice was doing, he had you pinned to his desk, the breath knocked out of you by the strength he’d displayed. You tried to inhale to scream, but Vanilla ripped off his tie and forced the material into your mouth, stuffing it to the back of your throat and forcing your body still, “I’m so, so sorry, (Y/N),” He murmured, his voice practically feverish as he tore your blouse, forcing your sleeves to your wrists and tying them tightly together, leaving you helpless and confused at Vanilla Ice’s sudden actions, “I’m afraid that I’m madly in love with you, dearest... I know I shouldn’t do this, I know I shouldn’t let my heart and desires ruin our friendships, but I can’t resist you.” 

You made a choked off noise in protest, trying to kick your legs out against your attacker, only for Vanilla Ice to flip you onto your back, your arms painfully held behind your back as the brunet man moved to kneel in front of you. You screamed, the sound muffled by the Professor’s tie, the large hands on your hips keeping you from struggling as your hips were forced to the edge of Vanilla Ice’s desk. He growled thickly, ripping your snug pencil skirt up to your upper thighs and ducking his head beneath the material, groaning hotly when the earthy scent of your cunt hit his sense of smell, “God, hold still, (Y/N), fuck, you’re so perfect... I’m sorry, I can’t, I need to taste you, need to touch you,” The brunet Professor moaned, his cock hard and aching behind the restrictive material of his pants, jerking as Vanilla Ice pulled you closer and used his strength to bend you in half, making it easier for him to force you to stop moving. You continued to yell and cry out, your knees jerking as you tried to kick the man’s back, Vanilla Ice ignoring the bruising he was going to get as he shouldered his way firmly between your thighs and buried his face into your clothed cunt. Your screaming choked off in surprise, hot breath washing over the crotch of your thong as Vanilla inhaled and sighed deeply, his teeth tugging at the material of your panties to pull it down to your knees, essentially tying them together as well. Your heart hammered in panicked fear, the realisation that you were completely helpless and unable to stop your Professor from doing what he pleased sent you spiralling. You tried not to pay attention to what was happening, hoping beyond hope that if you screamed loud enough, someone in the halls might hear you. 

Inhaling sharply to try, your scream was interrupted and choked off when you felt Vanilla’s warm, broad tongue lick a wet stripe between your labia, the blade of the thick muscle rubbing over your clit and sending a surprising wave of pleasure rocketing down your spine. A whine tore itself from your throat before you could stop it, and Vanilla immediately began lapping your pussy fervently, desperate to hear more of those sweet noises of yours. Part of Vanilla Ice felt guilty for doing this to you, sickened with the idea that he could so easily turn on you just because you showed him kindness and friendship - but the larger, more needy and dominating part of himself nearly buckled at the sweet taste of your pussy, a guttural groan vibrating against your labia and clit, encouraging your body to produce more of your slick juices, the earthy fluid coating his tongue and mouth. You felt Vanilla’s hands tighten around your hips, his grip no doubt bruising the soft skin and leaving easy evidence of what he was doing to you. Thank god - at least you’d have the evidence to report this once Vanilla Ice was done with you. A wretched sob and a whine spilt from you as Vanilla shuffled closer, wrapping his lips around your clit and suckling the throbbing bud, alternating between hard sucks and light laps of his tongue, “Mmmh, you taste so good on my tongue... hahh... I want more, I want to feel your thighs smothering me in your tight cunt, I want to drown in your juices - fuck, you’re perfect, so perfect, mmmh, I wish I could hear you calling me a good boy,” Vanilla Ice’s rough voice purred as he pulled away, pausing every so often to lick, suck and even nip at your labia, steadily getting you wetter and wetter. Pleasure coursed hot and heavy at the base of your spine, the warring sensations of pleasure and horror spilling tears down your flushed cheeks, your muffled noises leaning more towards those of someone experiencing bliss than pain. 

Vanilla loved the noises you made, was desperate to hear more, his mind conjuring up the words you would say as he held you and pleasure you like this. He imagined you praising him, telling him that you forgive him for not being able to hold back, that it was okay, you understood, you loved him too - and groaned, thrusting his tongue into your tight pussy and fucking you with the thick muscle, desperate to get more of your delicious taste in his mouth. His eyes were shut in concentration, hair becoming matted from how hot and steamy the area between your thighs - still covered by the material of your skirt - became, your juices dripping down his chin to make a mess of his work shirt as well. You could feel the muscles of his back move against your calves with every minute movement Vanilla Ice made, the Professor concentrating on pleasuring you, wanting you to feel good despite what he was doing to you. Groans and lewd slurps filled the office space, the sounds making you flinch and shake your head, desperate to distract yourself from what was going on. This couldn’t be happening, it must be a bad dream, Vanilla Ice was the only Professor you had that you felt you could trust regarding your issues with Professor Brando - he couldn’t be doing this! You sobbed and whined, hating the fact that your pussy tried to grip and pull Vanilla’s tongue deeper, your body eager to feel the pleasure your Professor was giving to you, even against your will. Tears streamed down your flushed cheeks, making a mess of your makeup and smudging your mascara. You were horrified to find yourself bucking into Vanilla’s mouth, your Professor growling and doubling his efforts to get you off, his cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat as he nearly smothered himself in the warm, wet heat of your cunt.

It wasn’t long after when the feeling building in the pit of your gut exploded with ecstasy, and you cried out gutturally as your orgasm ripped through you. Your thighs clamped tightly around Vanilla Ice’s head as a response, forcing him even closer to your pussy, your inner walls tightly milking his tongue as you gushed your release over the lower half of his face. Vanilla’s dark eye rolled to the back of his head in bliss, the lack of air and the pure pleasure he felt from hearing, seeing and feeling your cum just from his tongue was enough to have him spend himself in his pants. The front of his pants felt hot, sticky and wet with his thick seed, a darkened patch growing where his cock jerked and spilt into his underwear, throbbing hotly. The feeling of your tight walls milking his tongue made Vanilla imagine what that wonderful tightness would feel like on his cock, encouraging the Professor to pull away from your cunt and fumble with the front of his pants, “Shh, shh, it’s alright, mmmh, I know exactly what your pussy needs, (Y/N), mmmh, yes, it’s okay, it’ll all be okay, shh, shh,” Vanilla Ice hushed you, kissing you wetly with his still cum covered lips, the brunet tugging his still hard and cumming cock out of his pants, ramming the thick meat into you without a care, knowing you were wet enough to take him without issue. A thrill of fear and intense pleasure rocked through you when you felt his sticky seed paint your inner walls, your Professor tugging you around until you were in the perfect position before beginning to ram at a hard and fast pace into your cunt.

It must have been hours as Vanilla forced you to cum on his cock over and over and over again, your brunet Professor fucking you into submission beneath him with a desperate fervour that would make anyone baulk at the idea of taking him. By the end you felt used, exhausted and so, so full of cum that you were leaking, laying there weakly while Vanilla breathed and regained himself. The brunet man watched lazily as his cum spilt from your bruised labia, covering his desk in the messy mixture of his pearly seed and your colourless release, thinking that you had never looked as beautiful as you did right now, fucked and used and filled to Vanilla Ice’s heart's content. Despite himself, his flaccid cock twitched with interest, the Professor already coming up with new fantasies as he bundled you up in his discarded coat, cooing to you that you’d love your new home despite the sniffling, muffled sobs that spilt from your ragged throat. 

Chapter Text

“I could fucking kill you right now, you know that?” 

The Dragon King hovers above you, his painted lips twisted into an angry sneer. Your heart hammers in your chest from the running you’d done. Anger and despair war for dominance in the pit of your chest as Diavolo presses his large, clawed hand harder against your throat, cutting off your breathing with a wheeze of pain. You’ve never seen him this angry at you before - he’d always claimed to be patient, that he would never hurt you despite all the threats he’d made, and you had tried to take advantage of his perceived weakness to escape. Your body trembles beneath him and you can’t stop the whimper caught in the back of your throat from slipping out. The little noise seems to aggravate the Dragon King, as he growls and leans closer, his face looming over yours. You flinch and try to turn away from him, only succeeding in tilting your face just a little to the side, the hand around your throat tightening and keeping you still. You can feel the skin of your cheeks tingle as you desperately try to breathe, your hands unable to help get Diavolo’s hand off your throat, held and pinned up above your head so you are left helpless beneath the larger man. 

Diavolo presses a soft kiss to your cheek and from the corner of your eye, you can see his eyelids slide shut in pensive contemplation. He inhales your scent, slow, languid as if he was trying to memorise and keep it hidden away in the recesses of his mind. Fuck, fuck, was he going to kill you? You knew he’d once told you that he would rather see you dead than in the arms of another. Surely he wouldn’t kill you now, not after he’d kept you as his ‘treasure’ for so long. You were beginning to feel dizzy from the lack of air, black spots forming in your eyes as your eyelids blinked and began to feel heavier. Diavolo, taking note of your waning struggling, loosened the grip he had on your throat with a small sigh. You gasped and whined sharply, taking in big gulps of heated air, Diavolo breathing and pushing against you to make sure that the only scent filling your lungs is that of his body, “Gods, I am such a fool to let you live a moment longer... you betray me, run from me, think you can simply waltz out of my life because I promised never to hurt you - and yet, my weakness keeps me from tearing your body open and feasting from your innards,” You flinched at his words, unconsciously leaning into the soft brushes of his lips against your cheek, your (E/C) eyes sliding shut as you try to regain yourself. The little action is mistaken by Diavolo, the Dragon King’s heart fluttering in what he perceives as an act of submission, one that begs for comfort, for forgiveness. It is almost enough to have him release you... but he cannot have your betrayal stand, “Perhaps I have been too lenient on you, mia tesoro più cara,” He rumbles, shifting your body around, his face drawing away from yours after planting a delicate kiss to the naked skin of your shoulder. 

The kiss leaves a mark that makes you flinch, your mind spinning as Diavolo continued to hold your throat in his tight grip - a lingering threat, an order for you to stay still, to behave, lest he decides his mercy is unappreciated - and you whimper his name softly. The Dragon King hums as he hears the soft noise, a thrill of desire rushing down his spine, his lips kissing oh so gently down your body. The hand that had been holding down your wrists releases them, one sharp, deadly claw slicing down the front of the flimsy slip Diavolo had allowed you to wear ‘for comfort’ against the cold winter winds. The fabric falls to pieces around your soft figure, your skin on display, vulnerable to the Dragon’s humanoid form. You can’t help but imagine his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of your belly, ripping you open despite the soft press of his lips, each kiss leaving the paint on his lips as a stain on your skin, causing you to flinch with fear, “D-Diavolo... please, I’m-” You cut yourself off with a gasp, your smaller hands gripping the wrist of Diavolo’s as it tightens warningly around your throat. You swallow and hold still, terrified of what would happen if you tried to deny him now. Despite yourself, your legs splay open when his face nudges at the vee of your thighs, exposing your plump labia, the thick flesh obscuring your clit and opening from Diavolo’s hungry gaze. 

“There we go... I’ve dreamed of what you would look like beneath me,” Diavolo rumbled, his long, thick tongue flickering out to playfully lick at your labia, pulling a gasp of surprise from you. You quivered fearfully beneath him, the realisation that this was going to go terribly for you had already made itself clear, but you had thought he would maim you instead of, of... you couldn’t bring yourself to think it, your eyes squeezed shut as Diavolo cooed and lapped at your plump pussy once more. Your cheeks felt hot, humiliation lanced through your gut when you felt the first twinges of pleasure sparking hot and low in your belly. It had been so long since you’d felt the pleasurable touch of another, the Dragon King having spent too much time around you for you to take care of yourself without worrying that he might catch you in the act. The lack of stimulation had made you sensitive, your clit already beginning to peak from between your lips as you spread your legs wider, making more space for Diavolo between them, “Hmmm, good girl. Just stay still and let me show you what I can give if you behave,” Diavolo purred, his voice thick with arousal as the humanoid Dragon buried his face into your cunt. He dragged his tongue more thoroughly between your plush labia, spreading the soft folds with his fingers so he could fully expose your clit and entrance to the warm air between the two of you. Outside, a snowstorm raged in the dead of the night, and you couldn’t help the shiver that wracked your form when some of the freezing air brushed over your upper half. While the ‘nest’ was far enough from the cavern’s entrance for you to not be bothered by the cold all that much, some of the wind still carried through, forcing your nipples to harden and pebble in response. 

You moaned, low and heady, the sound turning into a whine as Diavolo tightened his grip around your throat, cutting off your air to feel you clutch desperately at his wrist before releasing it once more. His thumb stroked against your pulse, feeling the rapid beating of your heart through the skin, a purr of satisfaction spilling from his lips with ease. You whined and bucked into the drag and press of his tongue, the strong, long muscle pulling wetness from you with such ease it made you feel dizzy and light with desire, “Diavolo... Diavolo...” You moaned weakly, the Dragon King tightening and releasing your throat at steady intervals, cutting off the flow of air to your lungs long enough that things began to grow fuzzy and intense before allowing you to breathe easily once more. His hand never left your throat, the humanoid Dragon relishing the feeling of your chest rising and falling with your desperate breaths, how his rough treatment only seemed to get you wetter and wetter, “A-ah, please... please d-don’t... I’ll do anything...” You barely managed to slur through the effects of Diavolo’s toying with your throat, your (E/C) eyes rolling to the back of your head with a ragged moan when the pink-haired man speared your dripping cunt with his tongue, the long muscle thrusting into you in steady, shallow bursts until it reached as far as it could. You felt as if you were in heaven, in hell, confused by the pleasure and the hate that still warred inside you. You could feel that you were going to give in, that you were going to cum from Diavolo’s expert touches, but forced yourself to hold out, to stay strong.

Diavolo hummed and wrapped his lips around your cunt, your slick labia sliding so easily into his mouth you nearly cried. The Dragon King suckled roughly, his tongue twitching and thrusting inside your cunt, the stretch of it feeling so, so good for you, the slick feeling causing your inner muscles to clench around the intrusion, trying to pull it deeper inside you. Diavolo groaned, his lips, mouth and tongue vibrating with the sound, and you couldn’t help but sob and cry out his name in pleasure at the feeling. He curled his tongue, thrust it, flicked it, teased you with the pleasure he forced upon your body with such ease, learning quickly what made you whine and squirm beneath the attention of his talented mouth. Pulling from your pussy with a wet pop, Diavolo rumbled and slid his tongue from you, chuckling lowly when you heard you whine, his eyes taking in the way you bucked your hips. He tightened his hand around your throat, slitted green eyes meeting yours, something dark and hungry in his gaze as the Dragon King crooned sweetly, “Do you want to cum, carina?” He asked, smirking when you nodded, the desperate haze of need filling your mind causing you to agree with Diavolo, just to feel that wonderful pleasure once more, “Hmmm, I don’t think you deserve it. You were so eager to get away from me - why should I let such a bad girl get what she wants?” He asked, cruelly keeping a tight grip around your throat until your nails pricked at his wrist, nervous wheezing coming from your sweet mouth as he sent you spiralling higher and higher to the brink of consciousness. Just as your eyes fluttered shut, he released his grip, watching your pussy twitch and gush more of your sweet juices, a sneer curling his lips, smug satisfaction filling the Dragon’s chest, “I could give you anything you could ever desire, but you need to give me something in return, mia cara... so, what will you give me to let you cum, hmmm?”

You swallowed thickly, your mind completely out of it, body throbbing with a need so intense you couldn’t help but sob, “Please... I need it, need you, Diavolo...” You whined the Dragon King tutting and shaking his head, threatening to pull away from you completely. Big fat tears welled and spilt down your flushed cheeks, overwhelmed by the confliction inside you, “Please, I’ll do anything.... anything for you... please... need to cum...” You breathed heavily, Diavolo’s gaze was sharp as he took in the sincerity of your words, mulling them over playfully as his thumb rubbed comforting little circles into the skin of your pulse. You moaned, the sound trembling in the centre of your chest, and weakly bucked your hips, the scent of your arousal making Diavolo sigh and nuzzle the soft skin of your inner thighs. His green eyes watched you a moment longer, taking in the wrecked image you made like this, before he once more planted his lips on your pussy, cruelly thrusting his tongue inside you to suddenly and deeply you swore the tip caressed your aching womb, “A-ah! Yes! Yes, please.... more!” You whined, spreading your thighs so wide your cunt tightened as a response, the feeling of your inner muscles clenching around his tongue causing Diavolo’s eyes to roll back in his head with a growl. With just a few rough thrusts, you were flung over the edge of your release, your pussy squirting and coating Diavolo’s tongue in your release. The Dragon King hummed and continued to thrust the muscle slowly inside you, working you through your pleasure until your sweet whimpers turned to whining, your body overstimulated and tired. 

Pulling away from your pussy, Diavolo licked his lips clean and swallowed the liquid remnants of your release with a wet click of his throat. Sighing, satisfied, the Dragon King curled around you and pulled you into his arms, gentle and kind now that you were all lax and submissive against him. His hand slipped away from your throat, his lips pressed kisses to the bruised skin around your neck, the mottled mark staining your skin as if it was a collar, “Good, girl, you’re so sweet for me, mia tesorina, bella ragazza, I adore you so,” Diavolo’s praise was thick in your ears and you allowed him to move you as he pleased, forcing your body to cuddle against him, his larger form shielding you from the few drafts that reached the nest. Turning your face to his, Diavolo stole several little pecking kisses from your slack lips, eventually slanting his hungry mouth over your and stealing your breath differently. You whined and weakly pressed against his chest, feeling dizzy and overwhelmed by the love-bombing coming from the Dragon King. Eventually, the pink-haired man released your lips, your mouth feeling like you’d swallowed cotton, tingling and unable to taste anything. You rested your head against Diavolo’s chest, the steady beating of his heart lulling you into a light doze, the Dragon King satisfied to have his sweet, delicate treasure in his arms once again. 

Chapter Text

Kakyoin Noriaki, Professor of Classical Art and History, stands in front of the lecture hall filled with students and waits. The ticking of the clock is the only sound aside from the shuffling of paper, the surprise pop quiz he’d come up with taken all of his students’ concentration, allowing him to freely walk around and watch, his purple gaze sharp and hawk-like. While most would assume that he was watching for cheaters - and partly, he was - his eyes continually strayed back to where you sat, gnawing on the end of your pencil while you worked through the questions on the test. His heart fluttered at the sight, something soft and dreamy twisting his expression for just a fraction of a second before he turned his attention elsewhere. 

It had been nearly a month since you and your Professor had had your little tete a tete about his ‘inappropriate’ behaviour during an elevator ride together. Of course, Noriaki had apologised profusely for his unprofessional actions, and things seemed to have been settled between the two of you quite well. Since then, the two of you had been growing closer - in Kakyoin’s eyes - and he was starting to truly fall in love with you. While you had been distant towards him, you hadn’t outright rejected Noriaki’s advances. In fact, your redheaded Professor would hazard to say that you were acting coy, playing hard to get to make the older man work for your attention and affection. He couldn’t help but allow himself to be lured in by your (uncomfortable and polite) smiles, the fluttering of your lashes, the soft (nervous) way you spoke to him. You were just so... sweet, so innocent and naive to the world; you were someone meant to be protected by a fervent knight riding into battle on a trusted steed. If you were a painting, Noriaki would have praised the artist for creating such a beguiling yet virginal character, capturing the essence of innocence that comes before the corruption of sex. 

It was an apt description, in Noriaki’s expert opinion - because he desperately, desperately wanted to corrupt you.

When he had first ‘met’ you at the end of the second lecture he’d ever given your year group, he hadn’t thought much about you. Yes, you were cute, as he was willing to admit to himself, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at ten in the morning, but you had been one of his students and he was nothing if not professional. That, of course, had all gone out the window when you began speaking to him more often. There was just something about you that intrigued both Kakyoin and his Stand, Hierophant Green, about you. Could it be the way you smiled at him so cutely? Could it have been how nervous, yet excited you were about his classes? Could it be that he’d once accidentally caught a peek of your panties when a breeze lifted your skirts as you bent to pick something you had dropped? Maybe. But truth was, Noriaki had had his eye on you for months before the elevator incident, and it was your reaction to him - nervous, shy, reactive, virginal - that had truly sealed your fate, in the redheaded Professor’s mind. For weeks he’d dream about you, dream about what would have happened had you spread your legs and allowed Kakyoin to pull his cock out and slide the long, thick meat into your tight pussy, with none of the other people aware of what he’d been doing to you. He’d dreamed of how you’d look, bouncing in his lap, your body on full display above him as he sat in his office, whining about how badly you needed to feel your Professor cum inside of you. He’d fantasised about having you on your knees beneath his desk, sucking him into that sweet, warm mouth of yours while he lectured his class, your throat taking him with difficulty as you drooled and fought to take his full length inside your mouth.

The chime of the bell breaks Noriaki from his thoughts, the redhead shaking his head and calling out that the time was up. There were a few groans and discontented muttering from his students, though he couldn’t care less as he instructed everyone to bring their answers to the front. Kakyoin watched as each student shuffled up to his desk, leaving their papers on the surface before practically bolting out of the room, intent on getting to lunch before the rush would begin. His purple gaze slid to you, your attention focused on your phone as you texted with someone, a small smile on your face. Jealousy coiled hot and bitter in the centre of Kakyoin’s chest, and the Professor walked up to where you stood, glancing at your phone and felt relieved to see you were just messaging your mother. Oh, thank goodness - he was almost worried you’d given up your and Noriaki’s little game of cat and mouse by forcing his hand. Satisfied, Kakyoin cleared his throat and shot you a raised brow, watching the last student stumble out of the room as you flinched and turned your gaze towards him, “You should head to lunch, Miss (Y/S/N),” Kakyoin hummed, watching you stammer awkwardly, his hands itching to cup your face and draw you into a hungry kiss. The treat in his pocket felt heavy as he waited for the perfect moment to slip it into your bag, which came soon when your pencil just so happened to fall to the floor. Noriaki couldn’t help but feel delighted that you couldn’t see HG, one of his tendrils forcing your pencil beneath your chair. When you bent, the Professor was quick to sneak the cupcake in his pocket (a shudder rushed down his spine when he remembered the blissed expression on your face when you ate the one he’d given as his apology) and into your bag. He made sure that it was close to the bottom and wrapped in the paper bags the university cafes used to package their treats so as not to raise suspicion. 

When you finally managed to get your pencil, Kakyoin smiled and wished you a good day, leaving the lecture hall with the papers from his quiz after he’d gotten yours. His heart did a funny little flip when your name blared at him from the top of the pile, the redhead incredibly glad that this was his last class of the day. Noriaki quickly got to his car, his pants already feeling just a little too uncomfortable, and drove home in a haste, excited to pull another one of his cupcakes from the freezer to give it to you tomorrow as well. The Professor knew if he gave you more than this one for the week that he’d begin to arouse your suspicions, but he was willing to take the chance if he’d at least get to see that cute face of yours when you bit into the treats he’d made for you. Dropping the papers off in his home office, Noriaki made a beeline for the kitchen, tossing off his jacket, Hierophant Green making their appearance without their User having to call upon them. Kakyoin quickly set to work, pulling the frozen cake to defrost and grabbing a bowl to make some ‘icing’ for the top. He could feel Hierophant hover near his back, the Stand wrapping their winding waist around their User’s. Kakyoin sighed and tipped his head back when he felt HG wrap their arms around him, their hands moving to the front of his pants to unbutton, unzip and pull his cock and balls out from the tight fabric. The redhead sighed and relaxed as moist hands wrapped around the girthy flesh, Hierophant expertly knowing what their User wanted and enjoyed, their hands slowly moving up and down to pleasure Noriaki, “Mmmh, Hierophant... yes, that’s it, go slow; we don’t want to spill a drop now, do we?” He murmured, smiling when HG bumped their head affectionately into Kakyoin’s cheek, the redhead’s hands carefully holding the clean bowl beneath his cock, making sure to catch any drops of precum spilling from his tip.

While Hierophant wasn’t capable of speech, they could still make some noises that indicated that they felt the pleasure Kakyoin was also experiencing. Little huffs of breaths, staticky noises, something that vaguely sounded like running water, all of the Stand’s noises matched that of their User, who leaned back and shut his eyes. Noriaki conjured images of you in his mind, wishing he’d had the foresight to grab some of the pictures from his collage of you in his office before he got started with you. His mind formed a picture of you, sitting on his office desk, wearing something a lot more lacy and tight than your usual outfits. The blouse strained from your breasts, threatening to spill over, your shapely legs were hidden but not quite by the clinging nature of your pencil skirt. He imagined you sitting there, looking up at Noriaki with beguiling, tearful eyes, innocence colouring your expression - so perfect, so sweet, just waiting to be tainted and corrupted by your Professor. It was the usual fantasy Noriaki had of you when he wanted to reach his end quickly: you would be waiting for him in his office, wearing your best but most professional outfit, begging your Professor for another chance, for extra credit to fix your terrible grade - sue him, the man wasn’t the most creative when it came to sexy fantasies - your voice making the blood rush to Kakyoin’s head. He imagined he’d tell you to get on your knees to service him, using his authority over you as his Professor to instruct you on how best to please him, his precum tainting the soft pink skin of your lips as you innocently remarked about the taste. A flash of hot desire rushed down his spine, the chill from Hierophant’s body against his back providing a unique sensation that had the redhead moaning and HG increasing the pace of their stroking. Kakyoin’s hands trembled, the bowl held barely in his slack grip, precum beginning to make a small pool at the bottom of the glass bowl. Noriaki allowed himself to give in to his imagination, his voice husky as he began to speak, praising you for being a good girl, “Yes, take my cock in that sweet mouth of yours,” He muttered, hips bucking into Hierophants hands, encouraging his Stand to move faster and to grip tighter, Kakyoin imagining your mouth sucking the thick length as he bit his bottom lip painfully, “I fucking need you, (Y/N), I need you more than I need to breathe.” 

Hierophant made a soft purring noise, the Stand nuzzling their User, following the rolling motions of Noriaki’s hips. The pace increased the closer the redheaded Professor was until HG’s hands were practically throttling Kakyoin’s dick, wringing a hard and fast orgasm from the redhead. Noriaki came with a shout, pearly cum splashing in thick ropes into the bowl, filling it with enough spend to coat one cupcake with ‘icing’. He groaned and leaned back into Hierophant Green, spent, the last few ropes of his sticky seed leaving a trail from the lip of the bowl to gradually drip into the puddle at the bottom. Sighing, Kakyoin opened his eyes, watching as Hierophant carefully milked his cock of the last few drops of his cum before tucking the soft dick back into their User’s pants, zipping and buttoning the front, giving Kakyoin another nuzzle before dissipating into nothingness once more. Noriaki hummed and set the bowl of seed to the side, going into the pantry to snatch up some icing sugar and other ingredients to make a quick and easy buttercream frosting, a smirk curling his lips. He wondered how much longer it would take for you to realise just what he put inside his ‘cupcakes’ just for you. 

Chapter Text

How could it all have come to this? 

Your back arches as a muffled cry leaves your lips, tears slipping down your cheeks like a waterfall. The makeshift gag in your mouth dries your tongue and makes it taste like ash. Your hazy (E/C) eyes shimmer with pain, fear and lust, the betrayal of the man you saw as your best friend settling heavily like a stone in the pit of your gut. The conflicting feelings meld together, causing your pussy to tighten around the two thick digits inside you, sucking them deeper inside you and pulling a hungry groan from the large form resting against your back. You’re being held up by the hands on your hips, piercing blue eyes locked on your tear-stained face as you sniffle and wail pathetically when the fingers inside you stretch and scissor open.

Jotaro chuckles lowly, admiring the flushed, wrecked expression that dominates your features, humming lowly when you cry and release muffled, incomprehensible words, “Fuck, you’re such a messy slut,” The black-haired man growls, his cock twitching and drooling between your plush thighs as he watches Star Platinum’s huge fingers stretch you wider. You try to thrash against the bindings around your arms, the ropes keeping you pinned and helpless as you cry and buck. Star murmurs something and presses a sweet kiss to your shoulder, the large Stand working you open with such gentle insistence you wanted to scream your throat raw, “Star’s doing such a good job getting you ready for both of us... hmmm, god, you’re such an idiot, I’ve been aching for you for so long, but you could just never catch a clue, could you? That’s it, stay still,” Jotaro rumbles and forces your hips to remain stationary with a little growl, his lips quirking in a smug smirk. You sobbed and sniffled pathetically, the sounds only managing to excite both Jotaro and Star Platinum more as the large Stand pulled his fingers from you, only to return with three.

You arched and gurgled painfully, the stretch of Star’s fingers burning your insides and sending another fresh wave of tears down your face. Jotaro hummed and rubbed little circles into the skin of your hips with his thumbs, offering a paltry comfort as you tried so hard not to lose yourself. You were in a sea without anchor, being worked higher and higher to the brink of-of-of something you couldn’t quite name. If you weren’t gagged, you would have been begging; for more, for Jotaro and Star Platinum to stop, for freedom, to be kept and played with by them. You hiccupped and bucked your hips weakly, the burning pain eventually dissipating for more pleasure as Star crooked his fingers, the large Stand curling in closer so that his huge cock rubbed between your ass cheeks. You whimpered at the feeling, hot, tingling precum drooling from the deep purple tip to stain the skin of your ass, marking you primally. Jotaro and Star Platinum’s heartbeats and motions were in sync, the Stand responding to the soft groans of his User while Jotaro mentally encouraged Star to rub the pads of his fingers against your soft inner walls. The broad digits rubbed against your g-spot, a high pitched whimper ripped from your throat as you went lax, leaning back into Star Platinum’s broad chest. Juices gushed from your pussy because of the constant stimulation, Star Platinum’s movements becoming more confident and secure when he felt you tighten and grow wetter around his fingers.

“Gods, you look so pretty like this, (Y/N) - letting Star work you open for both of us, you’re such a needy whore... you’ve just been playing hard to get all this time, haven’t you?” Jotaro’s voice was husky, his piercing eyes narrowing dangerously when you hiccupped and tried to shake your head. With one instruction, Star’s gentle thrusting turned brutal, his fingers throttling your poor sensitive pussy, thick knuckles brushing your throbbing clit and making you sob in the back of your throat. You began nodding and whining, Jotaro’s smug hum drawing your swollen, teary (E/C) eyes back to his face, “That’s right - I know you want us,” The black-haired man crooned, locking his gaze briefly with Star Platinum, who rumbled and pulled his thick fingers from your drooling pussy. A trail of your juices connected your cunt to Star’s broad fingers, the proof of your arousal making you flinch and cringe, trying desperately to hide yourself in shame. You stared down at Jotaro, miserable and pathetic, only for your ‘friend’ to laugh and lean forward from the headboard of the bed, kissing your spit soaked lips around the gag, “Now, now, don’t look at me like that (Y/N). I’m not the one that just admitted to being a nasty little tease, did I? Fuck, I’m madly in love with you, you know? You’re so perfect for me - for us.”

Jotaro tightened his grip on your hips hard enough to bruise, the feeling of two large cocks pressing to your stretched pussy drawing your attention back between your thighs. Your reddened eyes went wide and you desperately shook your head, straining against Jotaro’s grip to get away from the steady, cruel press of Jotaro and Star Platinum’s shafts. The two men hold you still, grinding against you until the heads of their cocks find your entrance and then pushing gently, but firmly into you. Your eyes stare down, stricken, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of the bulge that makes itself known in your abdomen. Jotaro’s hands grip your hips so tightly you knew they would end up bruised. For a terrifying moment, you feared you would be torn apart by the steady, excruciating press of Jotaro and Star Platinum’s cocks. It’s too much and not enough at the same time, you want to pull away from the sensation of aching fullness, but they hold you steady until you’re seated in their laps. A wrecked noise slips from your mouth, a mixture of a gurgle and a moan, and the two men chuckle. Star Platinum wraps his arms around your upper body, muttering breathy little ‘ora’s into your ear as he muzzled and kissed the crook of your neck. You feel like you’re going to blackout at any second, the pain of being so full taking over all of your thoughts. 

Still, they hold you there, pinned on their shafts, Jotaro kissing you clavicle and rubbing your hips in a slow, soothing pattern while Star Platinum hugs you close, offering comfort despite the two’s cruelty. You feel wrecked, disgusting as tears and snot once more flow freely down your face, unable to do much else besides gasp for breath and whimper, “Shhh, (Y/N), just relax, you can take us,” Jotaro murmurs hotly against your skin and you wish your arms were free so you could throttle him and scream. You wished that you’d never met him. You wished you’d never decided to join him on his adventures. You wished, wished, wished you’d died in that terrible fight against Dio. If Jotaro could have read your mind he might have felt guilt for doing this to you. Instead, he slowly got you to calm down, your body eventually relaxing its tight grip around him and Star Platinum, enough that the two could slowly, carefully begin thrusting into your tight cunt. You whimper, but don’t bother to fight, shutting your eyes and just trying to breathe through what was happening to you. You wanted to get this over with, wanted Jotaro to stop mouthing and sucking bruises into your neck and chest, wanted Star Platinum to stop being so sweet and holding you so gently, wanted the two to take their pleasure and leave you be. You ignored what Jotaro was muttering against your skin, the two men gradually picking up the pace and force of their thrusting. You tried to remain quiet but the feelings were too intense, they were too much and you kept making wrecked, pleasured little noises that gave the two instruction on how best to fuck you.

They moved in tandem, as one unit, fucking into you with deep, powerful strokes that left you aching and soaked. Pleasure washed through your core, filling you to the brink before edging away once more. You didn’t want to cum. You didn’t want the two men to think you were enjoying yourself. You didn’t want them to think you wanted this. But you couldn’t stop the inevitable, their rutting and thrusting forcing your clit and g-spot to grind against their cocks, the sensations causing the coil in the pit of your belly to tighten painfully. You were so close, so, so close, but you wouldn’t let yourself cum, you thought firmly. Your eyes remained shut, brows furrowed in concentration, but it was all for nothing when Jotaro’s hand slipped between your thighs to rub and pinch your clit lightly. Your (E/C) eyes flew open as you cried with relief, your whole body locking up from the force of your orgasm. Your inner muscles tightened almost painfully around the two cocks inside you, triggering Jotaro and Star Platinum’s release as well. The two men filled you to the brim with thick, sticky, hot ropes of cum, the fluid practically burning your bruised cunt. You wailed at the feeling, unable to shed any more tears from how dried up and itchy your eyes felt. Your mouth and nose felt stuffy and uncomfortable, yet Jotaro and Star refused to let you go, wrapping you up in their arms and pulling you to your side.

They curled around you, refusing to pull out as the last weak spurts of their spend filled your ruined pussy, their combined seed so much that it seeped from between the seams of their cocks. You felt full, heavy, tired and disgusting. You could do nothing but lay there as Star Platinum cooed and pet your hair, Jotaro humming and stroking the bulge in your belly. Despite yourself, you snuggled into their combined warmth and quickly fell asleep. 

Chapter Text

You always taste so sweet on his tongue. The Naga has you wrapped up in his coils once more, his hands lightly gripping and pressing your thighs open to expose your throbbing cunt. His tongue slides inside you, stretching your inner walls and filling your pussy with the long, thick muscle. You can’t help but arch slightly, the muscular coils of his scaled, snake body tightening around you to prevent you from moving at all. You are pinned, helpless, and have been so for hours now, with your ‘mate’ dipping his mouth and tongue to your cunt to suck and lick as much as he pleased. You were aching and sensitive, your inner walls desperately fluttering and squeezing N’Doul’s tongue, trying to get the Naga closer, deeper, to feel that muscular length undulate and push you closer to the edge. N’Doul’s aphrodisiac venom courses through your veins, filling you with heady images of what he could do to you if you would just give in. It’s a fight for you to keep your mouth shut whenever his hips dip close enough to your face for the twin cocks - hard, aching and drooling with precum - to rub against your face, filling your senses with damp and musky heat.

You whimper and shut your eyes. Your hands curl into tight, white-knuckled fists. You can’t do anything but lay still in N’Doul’s clutches, allowing the Naga to pleasure you, to work you higher and higher to your peak - before he pulls away from your clenching walls, blowing cool air against your clit. Another release denied. This must be the... fifth? Sixth? One so far. 

N’Doul swirls his tongue over your clit and hears your breathy little whimper in response. Chuckling lowly, he pulls away from the throbbing bud, shifting his body so he could look in the general direction of your face, a self-satisfied smirk curling his lips, “You know I won’t let you cum until you return the favour, habibti,” N’Doul crooned, rocking his hips so the heads of his cocks smeared against your face, leaving a sticky trail of pearly precum against the skin of your cheeks. You jerk and try to turn your face away, but with how firmly N’Doul held you, it was impossible to do so. You whined and trembled, shaking your head and blinking back the tears that threatened to spill down your face. Gods... you just wanted N’Doul to get it over with. You just wanted to cum, you knew that N’Doul wouldn’t hesitate to use you as he pleased. The Naga had made it clear that you were his mate, and though he ‘loved’ you, he would be more than happy to satisfy himself with your body any way he pleased. You were tired of it, tempted to give in and allow his cocks access to your mouth... but you knew the moment you did, he’d misinterpret your actions as loving. N’Doul hummed and continued to rub his cocks against your face, “Just give in to me, love. There’s no need for you to play so hard to get. I want to make you cum, darling... but you have to give me pleasure in return as well.” 

You shuddered and sighed, turning your face away, burying the stained skin against the large, muscular side of his tail. No, no, no, you wouldn’t give in, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t - a strangled moan spills from your lips when your feel a thick finger press into your aching heat, your inner muscles immediately clamping around the digit and trying to pull it deeper inside you, “N-N’Doul... N’Doul, please, I can’t... can’t take it anymore-!” The Naga chuckles at how wrecked your voice is, slowly working a second finger into your pussy. He was waiting for the perfect moment to strike, watching hungrily as you moaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you felt N’Doul continue stretching you out. Fuck. Fuck you couldn’t take it anymore! Thrashing slightly, your face turned to the Naga’s and your mouth opened to speak again, to beg him for mercy and relief, only for your words to be choked back by the harsh thrust of N’Doul’s cocks into your mouth. The twin girths ground over your tongue, briefly trapping the slick muscle between them before you managed to slip it out. Your noises of shock and pleasure became muffled, N’Doul groaning freely at the delicious sensation that rocked up to his spine.

“Mmmh, yes, that’s it, perfect,” N’Doul hissed, rolling his hips in slow, purposeful bursts, trying to work his cocks deeper into your mouth. You choked and gagged when the heads hit the back of your throat, nearly expelling the cocks and forcing N’Doul to give up on the fantasy of having you swallow both lengths down your throat. Humming and sighing, the Naga dipped in slow motions, languidly thrusting his cocks against your tongue, coating the slick muscle in his sticky precum while he continued to thrust and scissor his fingers inside your cunt, “You’re such a good girl for me, such a sweet mouth for my cocks, hahh, I love you, I love you, you’re mine,” He growled, his unseeing eyes sliding shut as he relished and languished in the pleasure you were giving him. You choked and whined, gagged around the thick girths filling your cheeks, the tears that had been threatening to fall now freely spilling down your cheeks. Still, N’Doul didn’t pay attention to your muffled noises of discomfort, taking his pleasure from your mouth as he dipped his head between your thighs once more.

His thick fingers held your cunt open, providing enough space for the Naga to slip his long, thick tongue between the two digits and fill you to the brim once more. His fingers continued to thrust at the same pace that he fucked your mouth, but they crooked on every inwards thrust, the pads gently rubbing against your tender g-spot. You arched and bucked roughly - well, as roughly as you could - stars bursting in your vision as intense pleasure rushed through your body. If your mouth was free, you’d be babbling up a storm, begging for more, more, more as you tried to rut against N’Doul’s mouth and fingers. Instead, you moaned and sucked, your mind completely out of it now that you were getting what you wanted. The vibrations of your voice drew a Hiss from the Naga, who tightened his grip on your body slightly and bought you closer, eager to feel the pleasure of your mouth as you continued to whine, suck and lick. The coiled in the pit of your belly became tighter with each press, each thrust of N’Doul’s tongue and fingers, but it was the feeling of one of his fangs accidentally grazing your clit that threw you over the edge of bliss. You came suddenly with a muffled cry, your cunt tightening like a vice around N’Doul’s fingers and tongue, forcing them still as you shook harshly from the intense pleasure that rushed through you. You could feel something hot and sticky fill your mouth, and unconsciously swallowed it down, unaware that it was the Naga’s release that you had imbibed.

When your body calmed and your inner muscles stopped choking off N’Doul’s tongue and fingers, you went lax in the coils of his large body, allowing him to pull away from you. Your mouth felt sticky and wet, though you couldn’t care less at the moment as you tried not to immediately knock out after your intense orgasm. N’Doul shifted you around, pulling you closer to nuzzle his face against yours, crooning about what a good little mate you were as he rubbed and stroked your body. You whimpered, leaning into the affectionate gestures, too tired to think about the impressions you were giving him, allowing N’Doul to pull you down into the nest and curl around you. 

Chapter Text

“I didn’t expect to see you here, (Y/N).”

You flinched when you heard Jotaro’s smooth voice come towards you from the entrance to the sunroom, the door clicking shut behind him as he steps inside. You resist the urge to whirl around and face him, your eyes trained out towards the large, impressive gardens that surround the Joestar estate. A broad hand delicately runs up your spine, Jotaro leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek - only for you to pull your face away from him before he could. The black-haired man sighs, but removes his presence from your side, moving instead to sit on one of the abandoned plush armchairs around the coffee table. You swallowed thickly and tried to ignore him, fiddling nervously with the expensive bracelet - and tracker, you think bitterly - around your left wrist. You were supposed to be meeting with Holly for a ‘polite’ luncheon today, your ‘future’ mother in law wanting to go over the wedding plans she’d drafted up since you first moved in. You, as always, had been reluctant but polite, knowing the punishment you would accrue should you upset Jotaro’s mother. Ignoring the man behind you, you pretended not to hear the delicate clinking of fine china, Jotaro pouring you and himself a hot cup of tea, “I thought your mother would be joining me today,” You murmur stiffly, gritting your teeth when you heard Jotaro pause in his movements, a curious hum coming from him before he continued with preparing you a plate of the delicious lunch the servants had made.

He needn’t have bothered. It would all have tasted like ash to you anyway.

“My grandfather requested her help with an important meeting,” Your fiancé hummed coolly, neither of you acknowledging exactly what kind of business the Joestar patriarch would need his daughter for. You’d seen yourself that though Holly played the kindly, sweet and helpless mother, she had no qualms about ruthlessly killing those that crossed her. Hell, you’d seen her work first hand; the first day you were introduced to the rest of Jotaro’s family following your kidnapping from one of their business fronts, you’d been witness to an execution by Holly’s steady hand. That had been your introduction to his mother. That had been the basis upon which you’d had to measure the rest of his family. You’d nearly felt whiplash when Holly’s face had broken into this sweet, motherly smile, introducing herself to you and gushing about how happy she was to finally meet her son’s fiancée. For a moment, when she’d hugged you close, gushing over you and inviting her mother and father over to meet you as well, you’d felt cold - so incredibly cold, knowing that there would be a possibility where Holly could so easily turn that cold, uncaring gaze upon you as she held the barrel of a gun to your head. You doubted she would... but at the same time, your impressions of her would make you believe Holly could never hurt a fly either, “Why don’t you come sit and eat with me. You must have been waiting for a while.”

Jotaro’s voice breaks you out of your inner thoughts and you sigh softly. Though his voice is calm, his ‘request’ was not to be disobeyed. Standing at the balcony of the sunroom for a little longer, you caught sight of Joseph Joestar and Suzie Q walking together through the gardens, Holly on her father’s other side... and the three of them being followed by several bodyguards and two terrified, shaking men. Unwilling to see where this would be headed - you had enough nightmares and terror regarding this family as is - you turned your back to the gardens and moved to sit across from Jotaro. The black-haired man indicated the full teacup in front of you, and you automatically moved to take it. The glint of something near Jotaro’s chest caught your attention, and you swallowed back the panic that leapt in your throat at the sight of the black metallic gun barely hidden by Jotaro’s suit, “I would have thought you’d have to join them for their business,” You spoke softly, trying to push your fear from your mind, though Jotaro caught the slight tremble in your hands as you sipped from the tea. Though your tongue and throat burned from the hot liquid, you stopped yourself from wincing, discomforted by the sight of the weapon - Jotaro was never armed when he met with you... something was going on and you didn’t like the thought that he’d be able to control you so easily with the gun, “Didn’t Mr Joestar state that he wanted you to be more involved?” You asked quietly, resisting the urge to throw the tea in your hands at Jotaro’s face and make your escape. You knew that you’d be caught and dragged back if you did so, and you’d rather not be bedridden by one of Jotaro’s worse punishments.

Jotaro hummed and rose a brow, glancing out towards the gardens and seeing that his older family members were taking out the trash he’d already caught trying to break in this morning. The two men had thought if they managed to get to you, they’d be able to blackmail the family into going along with their demands. Perhaps it would have been a mercy if Jotaro had ended them when he’d first caught them... but in his mind, they deserved a little punishment before they met their maker, “I already handled most of the work this morning,” He stated boredly, piling a plate of food for you and handing it to you over the table. He watched as you stared at the plate, mulling over whether you were going to obey and behave, or if Jotaro would have to drag you back to his chambers by your hair. Affection and relief warred for dominance in the black-haired man’s chest when you accepted the plate and took a bite from one of the freshly made pastries, “There was something I needed to give you anyway. It’s for our upcoming nuptials - something very important that I commissioned finally came in today,” Jotaro hummed, turning his attention to his food, unaware of the way you had tensed at his words, the clinking of your fork pausing long enough to have exposed your wariness at the change in topic.

“Oh? What is it?” You asked, nervous, terrified to be exact, the food you had just swallowed settling in your belly like lead. The man across from you quirked his lips in a barely-there semblance of a smile, his hand digging into one of his jacket pockets and pulling out a tiny, velvet ring box. Your heart leapt into your throat and you flinched at the loud bang and crying that came from the garden. Idly, you remembered Jotaro’s words from when you woke up, bound and gagged in the trunk of his car, his expression soft and loving and oh so fucking sickening - “I want to tell you I love you until my throat bleeds.” - and shiver at the memory. He’d been so gentle as he’d pulled your bound body out of his car, the man you had broken up with and hoped to never speak to again so many years ago pressing a kiss to your temple as you cried and struggled to get away. That was the moment you’d become aware of exactly how screwed over you were - how much danger you were in, after everything that had happened between you and him. You felt sick to your stomach at the thought. You set your plate down, but don’t reach out to take the box, staring in dawning horror as the black-haired man sighed and opened it himself. 

Inside the box, nestled amongst the silk folds, sat a pretty, dainty little ring. It seemed almost plain, a golden band, some diamonds twisted elegantly within the metal, printed words on the inside that made up your and Jotaro’s names. But you knew better than to trust that everything was as it seemed - the glint of a microchip caught your eye, expertly hidden in the centre of the piece and disguised as a large diamond. Your mind ran wild at the possibility of what it could be, your fear and anxiety preventing you from snatching your hand away from Jotaro before he could take it, “I know we’re already engaged, but I thought it would be best to make it official, don’t you, (Y/N)?” You nodded numbly, watching with a pale face as Jotaro slipped the engagement ring onto your finger, the metal band fitting snugly at the base. His lips quirked in the barest semblance of a smile, something soft and fond flashing over Jotaro’s face, his thumb rubbing over your knuckle, “There we go, a perfect fit,” He mused, tilting your hand to watch the gemstones glitter in the light of the sun. 

Another bang cut off the crying coming from the gardens. 

Chapter Text

“Y’Know, sometimes I wish I’d never met you, (Y/N).”

You flinch at the sound of Joseph’s soft voice, lifting your heavy head so you could try to hear where the brunet was currently located inside the room. The blindfold around your eyes is soaked through with sweat and tears, the cloth gag in your mouth - which Joseph had used to try to shut you up when he first started tonight’s punishment for something you couldn’t even remember - was nearly chewed through from how hard you’d been biting. The skin of your back and ass feel raw and worryingly wet, but you try not to pay attention to that, try not to feel the fear that threatens to choke you out. You’ve been stuck in this hell hole for too long, your ears have grown used to hearing the slightest shuffle of Joseph’s feet. Still, you didn’t hear the brunet man move until he was right beside you, the hot feeling of his breath washing over your back, his fingers gently brushing against torn flesh, tongue clicking lightly. You hear the ruffle of his clothing as he pulls back and whimper fearfully, squeezing your eyes shut tight behind your blindfold, your whole body going painfully tense as you waited for the next swing of his belt.

It never came. You were surprised and relieved that there wasn’t another hit coming from Joseph, another painfully strong swing of the brunet’s arm, bringing his belt across your back once more. No, instead you hear him move to stand in front of you, his hand gripping your jaw painfully tight as he forces your head back. You can feel icy blue eyes stare at your tear and sweat-soaked face, he can see the way your nostrils flare with fear, how you bite and suck around the gag, desperate to beg for mercy but unable to find the strength. He sighs, loosening his grip on your jaw, thumb lightly stroking the damp skin of your left cheek as his glare grew softer, remorseful, “You have to understand, baby... I don’t want to hurt you,” Joseph says, his voice still soft and so kind it makes you want to scream. Bitterly, you wonder if he’s telling you the truth, or if he’s just trying to alleviate his guilt, “Hell, I thought I’d never have to punish you like this again. You were doing so well, sweetheart - I didn’t even have to muzzle you anymore... but you broke my trust today, you know that?” You couldn’t help but flinch and try to turn your face down, only to wince when Joseph’s grip on your jaw tightened once again, bruises blooming beneath the pads of his fingers as your bones creaked beneath his touch, “I can’t just let bad behaviour slide baby. A good housewife is supposed to stay home and mind the household while her husband takes care of business. You know this, I know you do, so then why do you keep behaving badly?”

The way Joseph spoke - voice exhausted and devastated from having to do this to you again, after so many months of progress - is almost enough to break you. You knew your anger and hatred was a fragile, terrified little thing, the ounce of resistance you still showed after so many years under Joseph’s thumb barely a flicker beneath the training and punishments you’d already had to endure. You knew you fucked up when you tried to escape today after the results from the doctors came in, knew that this would come if Joseph caught you trying to escape the home, knowing what you knew. You’d burned the letter in the hopes that Joseph wouldn’t grow suspicious of your actions and in your panic you’d made another escape attempt after almost three years without one. You didn’t know why you’d been so insistent on getting away - maybe it was the idea that a child would be brought into this messed up situation, maybe the idea of motherhood under Joseph’s careful control freaked you out more than you’d thought it would after all of your training. Whatever it was... you’d been filled by this terrifying urge to leave as soon as was physically possible. It had been the only thing on your mind as you managed to unscrew one of the bathroom windows and sneak out from it. You’d been lucky it was still early in your pregnancy that you didn’t have to worry about a bump being in the way of your escape. Surprisingly, you’d been able to run till the edge of the city, far away from the suburbs Joseph insisted on living in.

That was until your ‘husband’ caught you as he drove home. The moment he’d spotted you, he’d revved his engines and pulled off the road, chasing after and catching you fairly easily despite your head start. Curse Joseph and his Hamon training, curse him for continuing to keep fit while you’d been forced to remain sedentary and alone at home, curse him, curse him, curse him! 

And now, you were back in the hell hole known as ‘home’, chained up, in pain and terrified that Joseph might realise the reason you’d made your escape once more. You swore to yourself you wouldn’t bring a child into this messed up situation. You swore on your life you would either find a way to run or to get rid of it. You didn’t want to have to play ‘happy family’ with Joseph Joestar, no matter how submissive and permissive you’d become after so many years. You refused to. You would never raise a child with this monster- “The doctor’s clinic called me today, by the by,” Joseph broke you from your inner spiel, his icy blue gaze taking in the way you became tense at his words, trying to pull your face away from his painful grip. The brunet man narrowed his gaze and sneered, gritting his teeth in anger as he gained confirmation that you knew, “You thought you could, what, just up and disappear on me without a trace? Are you really that stupid, (Y/N)?” You flinched at Joseph’s insult, another wave of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, “You haven’t worked a day in your life and you thought you’d be able to hide yourself and our child away from me? Don’t make me laugh - you wouldn’t be able to support either yourself or our baby with the meagre amount of income you’d be able to get from one of the minimum wage jobs here. You also know that I’d be able to find you no matter how many times you change your name,” You whined and shook your head, trying to deny what Joseph was saying, but when the brunet shook your head cruelly you shut up with a whimper, not wanting to make him any angrier than he already was.

Releasing his grip on your jaw with an angry sigh, Joseph stepped back and breathed deeply for several moments. The brunet needed to collect himself needed to calm the rage that burnt in the pit of his chest. It wouldn’t do to hurt you and accidentally cause you to miscarry. The two of you had been trying for this baby for so long, had gone through such a tumultuous time struggling to get you pregnant, even when the doctors had said there was nothing wrong with you. Joseph wouldn’t allow his anger to cloud his judgement and lose the one thing he’d so desperately wanted to share with you now that the two of you had settled into an easy dynamic. Joseph was of half a mind to have you collared and muzzled once more, to retrain you into being his good girl, his sweet, helpless little housewife. Swallowing thickly, Joseph released his pent up anger in a sigh, both of his hands cupping your face and tilting it up towards him, the brunet man pressing a gentle, forgiving kiss to your spit soaked lips, “You’re all I ever think about, darling... all I ever dream about, all I’ve ever wanted,” Joseph murmured, his voice almost feverish as he continued to kiss your damp face, murmuring the words between each press of his lips, watching as your terrified shaking began to wane and calm down, “I’ve worked too hard to let you throw away everything I’ve done for you. I know you were panicked, that you weren’t thinking clearly - you wouldn’t have tried to leave me if that wasn’t the case,” Joseph hummed, thumbs stroking your cheeks, clearing away the few tears that managed to seep out from beneath the blindfold. You tried to ignore the relief that filled you, tried to stop yourself from leaning into Joseph’s touch, tried anything at all to give off the impression that you loathed him.

But you couldn’t. You were scared, alone, isolated, and felt that you could only trust Joseph. You didn’t want to fight him, didn’t want to raise your child without their father, didn’t want to leave the place you’d come to see as home. Whatever had been fueling you to escape and never look back dissipated into smoke and you sobbed and leaned into Joseph, trying to seek comfort from your husband. The brunet crooned softly and wrapped his arms around you, carefully unhooking your arms from the chains above you and removing your blindfold and gag. The moment you were free, you sobbed, clinging to Joseph with feverish desperation that soothed his remaining ire, your voice a complete wreck as you spoke, “’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, I’m so, so sorry, Joseph, please, I-” Your breaths hitched as you babbled and cried, your husband hushing and rocking you gently, pulling you into a chair so you could sit in his lap, body shaking and face buried in the crook of his neck. He held you, kindly, gently, one hand wrapped around your waist so he could stroke your belly and the other cupping the back of your head, petting your hair to help you calm down from your fit.

“Shhh, I know you are, darling, hush now,” Joseph murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your temple, comforting you sweetly as you continued to weep and apologise and seek his warmth. Joseph felt the angry, festering coil in his chest loosen and relax now that he had you in his arms, his voice humming softly as he murmured words of comfort to you. 

Chapter Text

A muffled whimper breaks through the constant tick-tock of the clock on the mantelpiece, the otherwise silent room suddenly filled the sweet little noise. From her position above you, the woman you had been employed by glances down from her book to your face, nestled between the vee of her thighs, a brow quirking imperiously. Besides the soft noise you made, the barely distinctive sound of a vibrator humming could be heard coming from between your clenched thighs, the ropes digging into your flesh and preventing you from trying to spread them so you could push the toy out. The hard backing of the chair is the anchor point by which you’re kept still, your tied together legs pinned in place by the abrasive ropes that line the plush back, giving Scarlet the comfort of leaning against your soft skin instead. The raven-haired woman hums and grinds down against your face, sighing in bliss when her wet clit rubbed the tender, pink skin of your lips. Her ass was cushioned by your straining breasts, your nipples poking into the soft flesh as she forced your head at an awkward angle, your hands helplessly clenching around the feet of the armchair beneath you, “Hush, Bitch, good furniture doesn’t make noise,” Scarlet’s voice cracks and a fresh wave of tears rushes down your cheeks, though you force yourself to remain silent.

This was a punishment for you, after all. You had disappointed Scarlet by your lacklustre response to her and her husband’s ‘affections’ when they had let you out of the cage they forced you to sleep in. You knew that Funny would be taking his turn to punish you some time the next day, the President having to leave due to business. No, you were to keep quiet and still, letting Scarlet use you as her personal seat, all while your pussy quivered around the vibrations from the toy steadily working you closer to the edge of yet another orgasm. 

Gods... you must have been stuck here for hours now.

The sound of a page being turned draws your teary (E/C) eyes back up to Scarlet, your hazy eyesight having to be cleared with several blinks. The black-haired woman seems to be engrossed in the book she’d been reading since she’d first tied you up and sat on your face, the dildo end of the gag forced into your mouth keeping her open and wet as she forced you to cum yet again. On the coffee table to her right, a small remote control lays unused for now, though Scarlet would no doubt reach over for it and increase the vibrations of the toy in your cunt whenever she pleased. You swallow back the whimpers that threaten to leave your throat, trying to be good, to have this punishment end quickly so you could be left in the peace of your cage, but Scarlet was enjoying herself too thoroughly to allow that to happen. With a hum, the black-haired woman bookmarked the spot she’d finished reading at, and leaned back against your thighs with a small sigh, “Hmmm, you’re being such a good girl for me, slut,” She muses, slowly beginning to roll he hips in languid, easy undulations, her juices dripping and coating your face as she did so, “It’s such a shame Funny couldn’t be here tonight. I’m sure he would have loved to see what a good Bitch you could be for us,” Scarlet sighed and allowed her eyes to slide shut, her lips quirking up in a self-indulgent smile. Still, you kept quiet, tears flowing freely from your eyes and mingling with the other woman’s juices as she rode your face.

Things went on at that slow, easy pace for several long seconds before Scarlet sighed and leaned forward, spreading her thighs wider and planting her feet firmly on the floor. A hiccup left you, unbidden, and you braced yourself for what was about to come, breathing deeply to try and make sure that your flow of air wouldn’t accidentally be cut off like it had several times before, “Mmmh, god, I wish I could feel that pretty little mouth of yours on my wet cunt, Bitch,” Scarlet murmured, lifting herself off of the dildo buried to the hilt inside her aching pussy, watching with rapt, eager attention as drops of her wetness trickled down the length to seep onto your face. You flinched when her purple gaze locked with your hazy (E/C) eyes, a pout curling her lips in disappointment when she saw how much you were crying beneath her, “Why’re you crying? Aren’t you happy to be with me? I treat you like such a good Bitch, such a useful little piece of furniture, remind you of your place beneath me while letting you cum as many times as you want... and this is how you respond to my sweetness?” You whimpered and tried to shake your head, though you were unable to move much due to how tightly you were tied down. Scarlet huffed, riding your face with harsh, cruel jolts of her hips, your head hitting the hardened cushion beneath you with the motions, leaving you feeling disoriented and sick, “Next time I should make you wear a chastity belt to teach you a lesson, Bitch... we’ve been too lenient, too indulgent with you, haven’t we?”

You whined and shook, eyes rolling to the back of your head when Scarlet turned the vibrations of the toy inside you up to the max, the end of the vibrator sending harsh pulses of pure ecstasy through your body from how intimately it was nudged up to your g-spot. Fuck, you were so wet, dripping so much, there was no doubt going to be a stain left on the back of the armchair to remind you of this moment. You can’t help but try to buck your hips weakly, the ropes tightening around your legs until they were painfully cutting off your blood flow, shooting tingling pins and needles up your spine, “Hold still... just let me take my pleasure and you’ll get to cum again... mmmh, fuck, I love how messy you get when I drip all over that pretty face of yours, Bitch,” Scarlet crooned, arching and sighing, one hand cupping her left breast and pinching the nipple for more stimulation, while the other slid down her slender belly, flicking and rubbing her clit to help the black-haired woman get off quicker. Your desperate noises made her shiver and moan, the scared and needy little noises muffled by the gag as she rode your face, pulling a squeak with every downwards slam of her hips, “Hahh, fuck, yeah that’s it, mmmh, god, I wanna tie you down and smother you in my pussy. I wanna make you eat me out until you get knocked out, wanna cum on your pretty tongue and then make you suck Funny’s cock to fill that poor belly of yours,” Scarlet growled, her eyes locked on your face as she spoke, telling you her fantasies as she got herself off to how helpless you were, how under her control you were, “H-hahh, mmh, so close, fucking closer, hhhh, yes, yes, yes, yesyesyesyesyes-oh!”

With a cry of relief, Scarlet cums, slamming down onto your face one last time and grinding against your lips. The sight, smell and feel of her release is enough to trigger your own, a muffled, overstimulated wail ripping itself from your throat. Your body was too weak to thrash, your figure only trembling and crying from the force of your release, your pussy gushing around the vibrator and soaking the back of the chair. Scarlet laughed breathily when she noticed, the black-haired woman lifting off of your face with a sigh and a lewd, wet squelch. She stood over your face and allowed thick drizzles of her release to coat your already filthy face, humming in admiration when you flinched but held still, your eyes shut to make sure none of it would get in them. Scarlet hummed and turned the vibrator off, watching your tied up body go slack, her hand slapping down against your clit cruelly just to see you jolt and hear your pathetic little whine, “Good girl. You’ve made such a mess of my favourite chair... hmm, let’s get you out of those ropes, sweet thing - I wanna feel your pussy against mine before we go to bed.”

Chapter Text

Maybe you shouldn’t be pulling an all-nighter tonight. Maybe you should have gone home much earlier, way before the clock struck around three in the morning and your eyes felt heavy with exhaustion. Maybe then you wouldn’t have slumped over at your desk, in the hidden and quiet section of the library, and ended up drooling all over your barely legible notes. 

Maybe you wouldn’t have been caught in such a compromising position by your marine biology Professor. 

Ah, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty.

Jotaro stares at your sleeping figure, surprised to find you in the darkened cranny of the library so late in the night. He’d been about to head in for some early reading, plagued by nightmares that refused to let him sleep, hoping beyond hope that if he worked, he would perhaps be able to scrub the reminders from his mind. Jotaro hadn’t been expecting to find anyone, let alone his most favourite student, alone in the darkened library, sleeping sprawled over your school notes with several large, heavy books surrounding you. The black-haired Professor can’t help the thrill that rushes through him at the sight, his icy blue gaze quickly glancing around to make sure no one else was close by. The only other person in the library at this time was the one librarian on shift, and they were boredly scrolling through their phone, unaware of the two people at the back. 

Jotaro swallowed thickly, his heart hammering in his ears as he mulls over the opportunity presented to him so perfectly. If the Professor had any more self-control, he would have turned around and left the library, or better yet, woken you from your sleep and offered to drive you home. He would have carried you out of the library and brought you back to your dorm, playing the perfect gentleman, all the while he’d relish having you so sweetly sleeping in his arms. You would have learned to trust him from that - he’s sure you would have - but Jotaro has always been a weak man when it came to matters of the heart. Glancing over to the front desk once more, His heart leaps when he takes note that the librarian had left. Must be a shift change, the Professor mused, slowly moving to where you sat, gently lifting you from your seat in the process. You murmur and stir, but stay asleep, forcing Jotaro to pause, holding you in an awkward sitting position against his body, before he was sure you wouldn’t wake up and continued setting his plan into action.

With relative ease, the larger man sits in the chair he’d just pulled you out of, making himself comfortable before pulling your sleeping figure back into his lap. He situates you sideways so that he can see your face properly, freezing for a moment when your brows furrow and you shift in your sleep, before curling up against Jotaro’s chest and going lax with a small, happy sigh. Your face is buried in the crook of the black-haired Professor’s chest, and Jotaro can’t help but feel... something; something warm and fierce and hungry curl in the pit of his gut. His cock, already half-hard from the thoughts he’d been having the moment he spotted you asleep at the desk, starts to throb, his pants becoming tighter than was comfortable. Jotaro swallowed thickly once more, wrapping one arm around your shoulders to keep you steady - and to make is sneak between your thighs and under the skirt of your dress - while his other hand moves down to his lap, unbuttoning and pulling out his cock, giving the firm flesh a soft tug and shuddering when Jotaro caught a whiff of your perfume. You were so warm and solid in his arms, such a huge contrast to how he’d imagined you would feel a thousand times as he laid awake in bed. Jotaro can’t help himself, his large fingers swiping up the seat of your underwear, the black-haired man forcing back the groan that built in the back of his throat when you mewled and clenched your thighs lightly, forcing his palm against your pussy, “Fuck... you’re such a slut, (Y/N)... keeping my hand between your thighs... You want this, don’t you?” He whispers into your ear, tightening his grip around your waist so he could feel your thigh against his cock, precum bubbling and smearing your soft skin as a result.

Jotaro groans, trying to keep his voice soft as he stroked his cock, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties to start stroking at your soft folds. While the Professor wanted to go slow and indulge himself in you when you were asleep and unaware of what he was doing, the thrill that he might be caught mixed with the excitement he felt made Jotaro work quickly. He gently presses a finger into your damp cunt, going still when you winced slightly in discomfort, his thumb immediately moving to rub over your clit. You relax with a small sigh and nuzzle closer to Jotaro, the black-haired man surprised that you hadn’t woken up yet, though he didn’t question his luck, “You’re all I ever think about, you know? You drive me crazy, make me think about you, how soft you’d feel against me, how you’d take my cock, the sounds you’d make while begging me to fuck you,” You whimper at Jotaro’s whispered words, thighs clenching tighter around his hand, pushing the finger he’d been shallowly thrusting inside your pussy further inside your increasingly wet cunt, stretching your inner muscles. Jotaro bit his lower lip, hunching his body over yours, pulling you in closer, closer, closer until the full length of his cock slipped between your thighs and you clenched them around it. Your warm breath washed over the sensitive skin of Jotaro’s neck, driving the Professor mad with lust, his teeth gritting as both hands now held your thighs, forcing them tighter around his cock and allowing the thick flesh to grind against your sensitive labia and clit.

With how wet you were, the noises that came from between your thighs were slick and sounded loud to Jotaro’s ears, the Professor humping and rocking up into the warmth of your thighs. Your juices made it so easy for him to fuck your plush flesh, Jotaro no longer caring if you woke up or if he was caught, his mind completely focused on the pleasure he felt from using your soft, sleeping figure in this manner. It was dirty, rushed, depraved, everything Jotaro had told himself he wouldn’t do once he finally had you in his arms, filth pouring from his lips as he growled all of his fantasies about you into your ears. You were making soft noises of pleasure, your body throbbing yet miraculously still asleep. Jotaro wondered if he’d be able to get you to cum just from this if you liked the smell of his cologne if he’d ever be able to catch you asleep in the library again.

The thought pulled the black-haired man over the edge, Jotaro growling and sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your neck, marking you primally despite the voice in his head screaming about how stupid that would be. Hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from the tip of his cock, flying into the air from the force of his release before splattering all over your thighs, staining your skin with the pearly fluid. Jotaro breathed heavily, swallowing and reeling from the pleasure, unaware that the sensation of his hot cum landing on your clit had been enough to push you over the edge as well, your juices soaking his pants. He held you close, trembling and gasping, his teeth releasing their grip on your skin as he panted against the hollow of your throat, dazedly feeling you shift, murmur something and fall asleep once more. Your lips grazed his cheek, and Jotaro’s heart leapt at the seemingly affectionate gesture, the black-haired man disappointed when you didn’t wake up and speak his name sleepily.

Sighing, Jotaro leaned back and allowed himself to enjoy holding you for several moments after his release, drinking in the sight of you, all ruffled and messy from the rutting. After several moments, he carefully stood up and put you back in the chair by yourself, cleaning your thighs lazily and making you at least somewhat presentable. Stuffing his spent cock back into his slacks, Jotaro swiped a finger through the lingering spend on your skin and forced it into your mouth, cleaning the digit against your tongue, a shudder of lust rocking down his spine as he wondered what you thought of his taste. Seeing you swallow reflexively and lean against the desk once more, Jotaro quickly pulled away and made his exit from the library, the exertion drawing his exhaustion back to the fore. The Professor would head back home and jump into bed once more, sleeping soundly as his dreams were only plagued by you. 

Chapter Text

“This world doesn’t deserve an angel like you.” 

The King murmurs the words against the back of your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist and keeping you pinned to his chest. The light of the early morning filters through cracks between the fabric of your bedroom’s curtains. You’re pretending to still be asleep, hoping beyond hope that Kars would not be able to feel the thrum of your heartbeat with how tightly he held you. The raw skin on your chest was coated in a thick, healing cream, then covered by bandages, and you knew that Kars would be the one to insist on replacing the dressing when you both ‘awaken’ in a few hours. The King sighs deeply and presses soft, barely-there butterfly kisses to the skin of your neck, the terribly affectionate gesture filling your gut with disgust, “You know I had to punish you, my Queen... how could I show my Court, my people, that I am a ruler to be respected if I would be soft on you for running from me,” Kars questions but you remain silent, feeling the larger man shuffle impossibly closer, one of his hands trailing down your arm to the heavy manacles that shackle your wrists to the bed, a soft hum vibrating against your back from Kars’ chest.

You know that you’re body is too tense to fool Kars into believing that you are asleep, but for whatever reason, the King has not called you out on it just yet. You refuse to acknowledge him, to turn your face to him, trying to curl up further within yourself despite the warmth and need you feel for the comfort of the King’s warm touch. You loathe him, you tell yourself over and over again, you despise Kars, hate him to the very depths and breadth of your soul - and yet, a part of you yearns and aches for his soft, kind touches. You know, intrinsically, that it is a ploy to have you let down your guard, to have you become complacent and still against him. You know that Kars is only acting upon his ‘kindness’ and ‘love’ towards you because he wishes to keep you by his side, to control every aspect of your life. You know this, and yet, you are horrified to find that it has started working.

Somewhere along the way, you’d began to rely on the King far more than you would prefer. You’d lost the confidence you had in yourself when you were originally meant to become the sole Queen of your kingdom, lost confidence in your ability to rule the people after the sudden loss of your family and Kars’ takeover campaign against your lands. When you were younger, you had always been under the impression that the relations between your and Kars’ royal houses were good - that you were allied with the cruel King despite everything... but now you know that it had been a facade for your husband. He’d intended to allow you to prepare for your eventual coronation, whispering poisoned words that promised he would support your rule, that he would remain by your side as an ally - only to turn around and arrange a coup to get what he wanted. The memories made you feel ill to the pit of your stomach, a bitterness welling in your heart as you remember the opulent ‘wedding’ Kars had set up to strengthen his claim of the throne. You couldn’t understand why he bothered to play the loving husband to you, why he would try so hard to manipulate you into loving him. He’d taken to tearing you down, making you unsure of yourself, of the actions and decisions you made becoming fragile like glass, scattering in the wind every time Kars chipped away at your confidence. Most times you felt like cowering, like deferring to Kars would be the wise thing to do, even for something as simple as assigning patrols to the castle guards - it was sickening to you, to have every piece of your life looked at and picked apart by the King, to see Kars sneer at your decisions and change them to suit himself more.

It was maddening. You’d felt so ill with yourself, with the idea of being Queen, with how terrible your life had become, spiralling out of your control, that you’d sought comfort in the one person you’d thought would be able to help you. Joseph... your heart melted as you remembered the name, the charismatic guard having been one of several banished from your lands by Kars after he took over as King. Gods, you missed him. You should have trusted him when he told you to go with him when he prepared to leave the night of his banishment. Now you were stuck in this life, miserable, marked and afraid. 

“I know you are awake, my Queen,” Kars’ voice is a dark rumble, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and sending shivers up your spine. You instinctively try to jerk away from the feeling, a soft noise of discomfort leaving your throat, but Kars simply croons and tightens his grip around your waist, “I can practically hear the thoughts swirling around in your mind, darling,” You grimace when one of Kars’ hands cup your belly, the other sliding up the length of your body to trail light fingers over the throbbing wound on your chest. You could feel his touch through the layer of fabric that protected the wound, your body twitching violently at the wave of pain that followed Kars’ touch. The King sighed and shifted in the bed, forcing you to turn and face him, his lips pressing to yours and swallowing the frightened, angry noise you made in response, your hands forced behind your back to prevent you from pushing Kars away. The King hummed and gently touched you, his hands trailing over your helpless figure, thumbs brushing against your hardened nipples beneath your sleep shift, “You know I am not a patient man, my love... I long for the day that you will carry my Heir, to watch you grow full with the life I plant in you - the perfect Queen,” He purred, nuzzling your face, ignoring the paling of your face or the disgusted snarl that painted your lips, “They would be beautiful. All you would need to do is give in to me, to allow your husband to take you, to fill you with my seed-”

“I would rather cut the child from my own womb than give you an Heir,” You hissed, interrupting Kars before you could stop yourself, the King going tense against you, his hands clenching tightly around your hips. You swallowed thickly, the dawning realisation of what you’d said making something inside you quiver in fear, but now that you’d spoken, you couldn’t take the words back. Shit. Shit you should have kept your words to yourself, you thought, hearing Kars’ displeased rumble, “I refuse to allow any child of mine to be born into this world if they are also partly yours. I would rather die.”

You cried out when one of Kars’ hands pressed to the wound on your chest, your body feeling the barely healed skin break and bleed beneath the cruel motion. You thrashed and tried to get away, agony searing through your veins as Kars continued to press harder and harder against your chest, forcing you to gasp and whimper. Before you could stop yourself, pleading, begging apologies flowed from your lips like a river, tears tracking down your cheeks and soaking the material of the pillows beneath your head. Kars watches impassively as you weep and beg, his red gaze cold, the King only stopping his punishment when your blood began to stain and seep through the bandages, “You will not speak about our children in that way. I would have you tied up and locked away for the entirety of your pregnancy if I must,” He growled, the threat in his tone a near promise as he released his grip on your chest. You heaved and curled up, Kars pulling away and rolling out of the bed, his body tense with a barely contained rage. If you weren’t already recovering from the branding on your chest, you do not doubt that he would have done much worse. Your whimpering goes ignored as he tugs on his clothing for the day, a part of you wishing you could beg him to stay, could beg for Kars’ forgiveness and kindness once more. You were angry at yourself for ruining the soft moment, the ugly, rebellious part of your mind suddenly cowed into submission by Kars’ actions, “I will send someone to take care of your wound in an hour. You will join me for breakfast then as well, do you understand?” Weeping, you nodded, shaking and breathing heavily, blood beginning to stain the sheets. Kars turned an impassive look towards you, the King drinking in your terrified, pained figure. It seemed for just a moment that he was going to say something else, but he shook his head and departed your shared chambers, ignoring the weak calling of his name.

An hour later he would find you in the dining hall, pale and shaky, your hands resting in your lap as you wait patiently for your husband to join you. The bandages on your chest are fresh and clean, though the scent of iron still fills Kars’ senses. He sits beside you and ignores you until you hesitantly reach one of your hands towards him, your palm hovering over the arm of your chair. Kars is partly tempted to ignore the gesture, though the cowed look on your face has the King reaching for you and linking his fingers through yours. Hmm... it seemed that you were learning, then. 

Chapter Text

You can see Bruno watching you from the corner of your eye. The afternoon sun shines lightly against you, warming the chill in your body as you sit in the gardens and pretend to read the ‘riveting’ book you’d picked up a few scant days ago. You hardly remember when you started reading it, your attention and interest waning in the story so quickly it was a struggle for you to muster up the weak enjoyment you could have gotten from it. You’re stuck on this page, staring at the words that make no sense to you, your heavy body sprawled semi-comfortably in the uncomfortable iron chairs that littered the alcoves in the gardens. One of your hands rests listlessly over the swollen bump of your middle as you try to ignore Bruno, your husband hovering at the edges of your vision. You knew that there was nothing he would have liked more than to walk up to you and place his hand on your belly, to feel the light fluttery kicks of his Heir as they grew in your womb, to lean into you and kiss you gently, lovingly, as he murmured how ardently he loved you.

And yet, the black-haired man stood hesitantly to the side, unsure if he should or should not intrude upon the quiet and seemingly peaceful scene before him. You couldn’t blame Bruno for being hesitant to approach you, not after the meltdown you’d had months prior when the healer’s of the castle confirmed your pregnancy. After the way he broke his promise to you and forced himself upon you before he could have ‘wooed’ you properly, you had been at best distant and at worst angry and combative. Ever since that night, your behaviour had been growing more and more erratic, often devolving into screaming and crying on your worse days when Bruno would deign to speak to you, or going mute on your best days instead. Everyone who had interacted with you regularly could tell that something was building up inside you, especially with how violently you denied your pregnancy when you first began to show the symptoms. Bruno had hoped that if the healer’s confirmed it, you would have calmed down so as not to stress yourself, hoping beyond hope that you would be overjoyed to become a mother, despite the circumstances you both found yourself in.

He’d been wrong. So very, very wrong. 

It was as if the confirmation and congratulations from the healer had broken something unfixable within you. Seconds after the news, you’d thrown a fit so violent and vitriolic that you’d had to be sedated, only to wake up and continue your meltdown by destroying your royal chambers. You had taken to wrecking your private space to pieces, destroying the gifts Bruno had given you, the dresses he’d commissioned, and even trying to take a large, jagged wooden piece from your destroyed wardrobe to your abdomen, screaming about how you refused to carry a monster within your body. It had been terrifying, the King having to have you tied up and locked away in his rooms, where he’d had to have anything that could be broken and used to rid yourself of your and Bruno’s child removed in case you could somehow escape the bindings around your wrists and ankles. In the days following that, you refused to eat, trying to starve yourself, to force your body to miscarry and expel the ‘demon’ that grew in your womb, screaming and thrashing and spitting venom whenever Bruno entered your line of sight. Nothing had worked to calm you, and in his desperation, the King had reached out to your mother, the only remaining family member you still had, ordering, nay, begging the older woman to come -not to Bruno’s aid - but to yours.

Bruno knew his mother in law loathed him as deeply as you did, the older woman’s face stony and cold whenever she had the displeasure to speak to the man who had forced her daughter into a loveless marriage. For days he’d been wracked the worry that your mother would not come, that she would spite him by ignoring her summons. However, as much as your mother hated the King, as much as she would leave him to burn to death for taking her sons, husband father, brothers and sisters from her - she loved her daughter far more fiercely than she could ever hate the King. Three days after her summons, your mother had blown into the castle like a hurricane, kicking Bruno, the servants, healers and anyone else from the room you were locked in, snarling that she and you required the privacy of each other’s company if your mother was ever to calm you. It had taken nigh a month to calm you, to comfort you, to convince you to eat and take care of yourself, for your mother to soothe your weeping and help you see that as much as the child in your belly was Bruno’s - it was yours as well. It was a slow, nerve-wracking process for the King, Bruno spending much of his time pacing and trying to press his ear to the door, listening in on the nonsensical murmurs that filtered through the thick wood. He wished he could be by your side, wished that you would call for him, would need his comfort, only to be reminded time and time again that you hated him to the very depths of your being. 

After the month, you had calmed down. Or well, you had gone listless and unresponsive, needing your mother’s constant supervision and care as you wallowed in the deep, aching grief that filled your being. Even then, any hint or mention of Bruno would inspire fits of terror, anger, and grief, your screaming and crying echoing through the halls of the castle. It hurt, to know that he could have caused this, that this was how you viewed Bruno now. The King, cowed by the depths of your anguish, had gone to great lengths to avoid you, unwilling to inspire more fits and cause you to distress with his presence. It had taken so many months to get you to calm and heal that when he had next seen you, your belly had been swollen and his child already kicked in your womb. Still, he had avoided you, fearing that just seeing him would have sent you crying once more, but you had murmured an empty greeting, looking at and through him whenever he was near you, your spirit so thoroughly broken and exhausted it was enough to make the King weep at what he’d done. Bruno felt sick at himself, finding excuses to be a coward and avoid being around you, choosing to watch on from afar as you listlessly went through your day. His mother in law had elected to stay by your side, the older woman the only person that managed to elicit at least a smile from you, though Bruno feared what would happen should she ever choose to leave.

It was a pain he could never begin to explain. His heart felt like it would forever be rent into pieces, his sleep plagued with images of you holding the wooden stake, bloodied and holding your entrails, a hole in your belly where his child lay screaming, screaming, screaming as you stared Bruno in the eye and called him a monster. 

“You can come closer you know,” Your tired voice calls out, dull (E/C) eyes turning away from the book to look directly at Bruno, jolting your husband from his thoughts, shock and anxiety colouring his handsome features as you smile, mirthless and bleak. You tilted your head towards the other empty iron chair before turning your waning interest to the book in your hands, a wince curling your lips when the babe in your belly kicks a little too hard. Bruno hesitantly walks towards you, his eyes lingering on the bump at your middle, an expression of longing colouring his features, “You can touch them if you want,” You mumble, shifting your body so your arms would not be in the way of Bruno’s touch, surprised when the King nodded and moved to kneel before you.

Bruno’s hands shook slightly as he cupped your swollen middle, wonder colouring his handsome face as he felt the kicks of his child for the first time, the sensation enough to bring tears to his eyes, “Hello, il mio piccolino,” He murmurs, his gaze flickering to your face as you pretend not to notice what he’s doing, your silence making Bruno bold enough to plant a gentle kiss to your middle. He sighs shakily when there was a responding kick against his lips, a wet chuckle spilling from him as Bruno stayed there, kneeling and just feeling the child, his child, move around inside you, healthy and alive. You are both quiet for long moments, the sun glowing brightly above you, one of Bruno’s thumbs rubbing the side of your belly before the King begins to speak again, “I’m so sorry, amore,” He whispers, the words drawing your attention as you set your book to the side, your (E/C) eyes locking with Bruno’s, unsurprised to find the King looking up at you as he spoke, “Is there anything I could do to earn your forgiveness?” Bruno whispered, tears glinting at the corners of his eyes, his bright blue gaze searching your (E/C) one for anything, any sign that he could do something to alleviate the guilt that had furled up and made it’s home in his chest, “It’s okay to love me. Please love me.” 

The King is met with stony silence, your gaze falling from his to the floor, and Bruno’s hopeful expression crumbles beneath the weight of the silence. Grief-stricken but unwilling to leave, the black-haired man rests his face on your thighs, his cheek pressed to the fluttering skin of your swollen belly. He weeps, silent and tense, shoulders shaking beneath the force of what he’s done, the afternoon waning into the evening as you are both silent as stone. 

Chapter Text

“I hate it when they look at you…so fucking much…” 

The thoughts swirl like cold tea in Leone’s mind, his pale golden eyes glaring in the direction you and Mista sat. You were laughing at something the gunslinger said, head tipped back and teeth gleaming in the golden lights of the restaurant. Jealousy, ugly and acidic, unfurls in his chest, one of his strong hands tightening around the delicate china held in his palm, the material squeaking and whining, threatening to burst beneath the surge of strength that rushes through Abbacchio’s chest. Feeling a warm hand rest on his shoulder, the white-haired man jolts from his thoughts, glancing back at the pack Alpha, Bruno, who shot Leone a warning look before walking away. The action had its intended effect, Abbacchio forcing himself to calm down and put his cup of cold tea down, amber eyes narrowing when he spotted Mista slide his hand up your thigh, that smarmy grin on the other man’s face making Leone’s blood boil.

It was a relief when you carefully pulled Guido’s hand off your thigh, giggling and shifting so you weren’t sitting so close to the other man. The jealousy settled and waned in Abbacchio’s chest, the werewolf pleased that you had rejected his pack mate’s obvious advances. He knew there was a good reason his affections had lingered with you - you were so clearly out of everyone’s league in this place, Leone having taken note of you from the very first moment you’d walked into the restaurant, soaked from the rain and scowling. Back then, you had clearly come in after a date gone wrong, your hair bedraggled and makeup a mess, your already tight black dress practically becoming a skinsuit from how wet the rain had made you. Immediately, you’d caught Abbacchio’s attention, the werewolf sitting up at attention, his senses focused purely on you as his packmates continued to argue around him. Something had clicked in his mind, all those weeks ago, the werewolf convinced that you were the one for him, his mate, so perfect and wet and vulnerable. 

Without a backwards glance besides a lowly growled ‘Don’t wait up’ to Bruno, Leone had made his way to you as you sat by the bar, roughly ordering one of those fruity cocktails that served no purpose but to get someone a little too drunk. Catching a whiff of your scent beneath the slick smell of rainwater, Leone knew he’d be a goner for you. He remembers sitting next to you, sharing the warmth of the bar and a couple of drinks with you, sharp amber eyes watching as you steadily got drunker. You’d laughed at his snarky comments when you spilt your woes, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest as you leaned into him. The two of you, or at least to Leone it had seemed that way, were lost in one another, the world around you both becoming cold, drab and grey. Abbacchio had been lost in you, and had thought you’d felt the same; so when you’d grabbed him by the front of his coat and kissed his lips, grin wide and flirtatious and far, far too drunk as you asked if he’d like to have some fun tonight... well, how was a man as smitten and weak as Abbacchio meant to deny you.

That night... oh that night haunted Leone’s dreams. The taste of your skin against his lips, your hands clinging to his shoulders, the feeling of your thighs clenched around his head as he brought you to your peak over and over again. The sound of your voice as you moaned and begged for more, as Leone slipped his slick, hard cock inside your tight pussy, rutting, fucking, making love to you as you clung to him, whispering filth into the werewolf’s ear as he mated with you. He remembers how his heart and blood sang, how his fangs had itched with the need to bite down, to rip your throat out so he could feast on your blood, your flesh, to own and consume you so thoroughly you’d never leave him. He’d been lost within you, following the brewing storm, the ache in his soul that demanded he bites, bites, bites and mark you as his. You’d been so perfect that night, flushed and marked and all soft and sweet for him... and then the next morning you’d left his bed without a backward glance, telling him you’d had a good time all while a cigarette hanging from your lips. 

“Let’s keep in touch, hm?” You’d said, voice rough from the screaming you’d done, smile on your face ingenuine as you left his apartment without giving Leone your number, disappearing like a phantom in the night. In the silence after you’d left, Abbacchio had been filled with a storm of emotion, the large werewolf shocked and hurt and angry that you’d left. Who the hell did you think you were?! You are Abbacchio’s - the white-haired werewolf had fucked you, spilt his seed in your needy cunt, and now you thought you could just leave him? Unbeknownst to the werewolf, you woke up in your hotel room the next morning with no memory of the white-haired man, shrugging off the bruises, bite marks and the ache between your thighs as the work of your date last night. 

Even now the memory brings a snarl to Leone’s lips, his amber eyes flashing in the golden lights of the restaurant, his stare drilling into the back of your head. You were ignoring him, pretending the white-haired man didn’t exist, after everything that happened between the two of you. Mista must have smelled the vitriolic nature of Abbacchio’s pheromones, the gunslinger glancing back at his packmate in concern. The angry, murderous look in Leone’s eyes was enough to cow Mista, the other man muttering an excuse as he left you to yourself, tail tucked between his legs while you watched on with confusion. Shrugging, you took a sip from your cocktail, unaware of the werewolf staring at you, an idea forming in Leone’s mind as he flagged over one of the waitstaff, slipping the server a hefty sum if he’d convince the barkeep to continue supplying you with drinks through the night. The server hummed and narrowed their gaze at you, nervously muttering an agreement to Leone’s request, pocketing the cash to be distributed between them and the barkeep at the end of the night.

For three hours, Abbacchio watched as you drank and drank and drank, your body steadily beginning to slump as your voice started slurring. When you started to get louder, looser, drunk, he stood from his seat and moved to join you, voice rough and snarky as he whispered into your ear, “Remember me, cagna?” He felt you go tense, the animalistic growl a chilling undertone to his words, activating the prey instincts buried deep in your psyche. You suddenly felt like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a wolf, a shiver of fear rushing up your spine. Whipping around in shock, your pretty (E/C) eyes went wide at the sight of the tall, white-haired man. He seemed vaguely familiar, your brows furrowing as you try to place where you know him from. Your drunk mind has foggy memories of holding to broad shoulders, a growling mouth and teeth too sharp as they nipped and marked you, ling white hair draping over your thighs as a head went down on you. You stared up as the handsome, dangerous man in front of you smirked, the curl of his lips sharp and sneer-like as he caged you in against the bar, his voice soft but oh so loud in your suddenly terrified mind, “I’ve been watching you for a while now, carina... did you think you could just ignore me after our night together?” Leone asks, venom dripping from the words as his thumb and forefinger gripped your chin, forcing your face up so he could study your expression.

Slowly, it began to dawn on you that you knew this man, but you didn’t know from where or why, and that frightened you. A soft noise left your throat when he leaned in to press a surprisingly gentle kiss against your lips, Leone pulling back only long enough to help you up and off of the barstool, wrapping an arm around your waist when you stumbled into his side, “Hmm, I think we should head home and reacquaint ourselves with each other. It’s time I brought you home, bella,” You stumbled and slurred over unintelligible words, Abbacchio locking eyes with his pack, watching as they all nodded. They would make sure to hush the staff of the restaurant should any police come around, though Abbacchio doubted it. The police didn’t tend to meddle themselves in the business of pack lore, especially because of how much power the Passione pack held over Italy. Tugging you along was easy, Leone’s blood rushing with excitement as he thought about what he’d do to punish you for leaving him all those weeks prior. 

Chapter Text

You feel like you’re going to suffocate.

The heat between your thighs burns and twists in your gut, the head of your captor keeping the plush flesh stretched wide and open as his tongue thrusts in and out of your sopping pussy. You’re too weak to struggle, the food in your gut and spices in the wine you’d drunk made your body feel heavy and sensitive, any little movement of yours doubling, almost tripling, the sensations of being cradled and held still in the large nest of pillows and blankets that surround you. It’s so hot, too hot, the air sweltering around your naked body as weak whimpers of Kars’ name spill from your lips. You can barely keep your (E/C) eyes open as you lay there, spread and perfect, one of your hands weakly clutching the pillow beneath your hand, while the other rests on your full belly, trying to ease the slight nausea that threatened to overwhelm you. Still, Kars continued to feast from your body, his mouth wrapped around the fat, swollen labia between your thighs, the edges of his teeth barely touching your clit, and yet, the sensation sends a wave of overwhelming pleasure crashing through you. 

You cum, again, having lost count of how many times you’ve crested the edge of bliss, your mind going blank as all you could feel, all you could focus on, was the gently, hungry suction of Kars’ talented mouth. The Pillarman rumbles blissfully when your juices soak his tongue yet again, his throat bobbing and tongue thrusting harder as he swallowed your release with ease, “Please.... please, I can’t take anymore,” You whimper, your voice soft and rough from how much you’ve screamed, moaned and wailed in the past several hours. Kars had only briefly paused between bouts supping from your cunt to feed you, filling your body with so much food and pleasure you felt like you would combust. He’d claimed it was to help you keep up your strength, the Pillarman humming about how he intended to fuck and sup from you for days to fully claim your body as his. Already you felt hypersensitive, Kars no longer having to chain you down to keep you in the pile of material he’d made your bed, your thighs trembling and tense as your heart palpitated wildly in your chest. Still, Kars disregarded your words, continuing to suck, lick, thrust his tongue, the larger, stronger being taking his time to enjoy your taste and body thoroughly. He intended to study every inch of you, to learn what would have you wet and needy for him within seconds of first touching you, manipulating your body so that you would always be wet, open and ready for the Pillarman’s use whenever it suited him. 

This was his claiming, his training of your body to become the perfect pet and it was working. It had only been two days since Kars had first started the process of turning you into his mindless toy, thoughts revolving only around Kars - Kars’ cock, Kars’ hands, Kars’ tongue and the pleasure he could give you. Already your mind would blank and focus purely on what Kars was doing, the way he thrust his tongue and sucked on your labia and clit, steadily working you open until you were aching with the need to be filled. You whined and shook, head lolling to the side to bury in the nearby pillow, muffling your noises and grounding your mind just the slightest bit. Noticing this, Kars chuckled, the vibrations of the noise causing you to arch and wail weakly, your voice cracking around the sound, a sob heaving your bruised and marked chest. Pulling away from your cunt, Kars admired the sight you made in the comforting materials surrounding your flushed, exhausted body, his large, clawed hands stroking over the damp skin of your inner thighs, kneading the softness. His blood-red gaze was drawn down to the vee of your thighs, watching how your juices dripped from your pussy to stain the sheets beneath you, the hot, wet hole inviting the Pillarman to fill you with his cock. 

Your whole body jolted when the leaking tip of his cock brushed between your labia, a guttural sound escaping you as you turned to face Kars, the large man drinking in the flushed, hazy expression on your face. Humming, he shuffled your bodies just a bit, pinning your further into the plush pillows surrounding your form before smothering your smaller body beneath his weight, every inch of his figure touching yours. You whine and stretch, barely able to breathe beneath the heat of him, your mouth falling open when Kars leaned in to kiss you, deep and slow and hot, devouring your mouth while he ground between your cunt lips, “Shhh, darling, just lay back and let me take care of you,” Kars crooned, voice thick as molasses on a hot day, the sound shooting shivers of conflicting fear and need up your spine. Despite yourself, you wrapped your legs tightly around the Pillarman’s waist, mewling his name pathetically as he deepened some of the bruises on your neck and chest, “Hmmm, you know you’re mine, don’t you, (Y/N)? No one else could make you feel this way, could make you cum so much from just their tongue...” Kars trailed off, shifting his body so he hovered above you, still pressing your body down into the softness of the nest, the head of his cock easily slipping into your swollen pussy. You whimpered, hands moving to grip his wrists as he planted them on either side of your head, tears beginning to slip down your slack, overwhelmed face, your cunt clenching down so hard it nearly made your abdomen cramp up with pain. Kars cooed, no longer able to nuzzle or kiss you, his lips curled into a beatific, if cruel smile, “Oh, what’s this? What a strong response from that tiny body of yours. Was my tongue not enough for you, beloved? Do you need my cock inside your tight heat?”

You arched and moaned, nodding, unable to think long enough to string a sentence together, the overwhelming heat and pleasure having melted your mind into nothingness. Kars chuckled again, dipping his hips in lazy, shallow thrusts, popping the head of his dick in and out of your sopping hole, teasing you just to hear your guttural, animalistic noises. Finally, the Pillarman sighed and changed the angle of his hips, looking down at you with impassive, hungry eyes as he drove the full, fat length of his cock into your tight, fluttering pussy, sneering when you came explosively from the rough entrance. You wailed, pathetic and high pitched, your nails pricking into Kars’ wrists as you desperately tried to clear your mind, “So sensitive. To think you came just from my cock filling this tight hole of yours,” Kars huffed, pressing against your so harshly that he could feel the slight bump in your belly, his cock jolting as your tight walls milked him desperately, “This is all you’re good for, where you belong, beneath me, keeping my cock nice and warm and hard in that tight cunt of yours,” Kars purred, his words slipping oh so easily into your empty mind, manipulating you with such ease it was nearly laughable. Gone was the strong, willful Hamon warrior, the one that spat in Kars face and dared to kick him while Hamon crackled around your body, bright and beautiful and fierce - now just a broken, weak little toy fit for nothing but to please the Pillarman you’d fought against so hard. You were drooling, your (E/C) eyes rolled to the back of your head, slurring pleas for more as Kars began to rock his hips against yours, thrusting his cock in long, slow, smooth thrusts. The Pillarman’s blood-red gaze watched as you became less and less coherent, just a sensitive, overworked body that came over and over and over again as Kars fucked your sopping, squelching pussy, the tight walls fluttering and aching to feel him release inside her.

But Kars’ stamina was something to be admired, the Pillarman continuing to rut his fat cock inside you, relishing the tightness that soaked his balls and upper thighs with your release over and over again. It was like you were under a constant stream of ecstasy, each orgasm racking up your sensitivity and making you needier, your body twitching weakly with each of Kars’ thrusts. The Pillarman’s voice was a soft murmur, his words degrading and reinforcing your place beneath him in your mind, Kars idly toying with the idea of using the stone mask to make you immortal and dependent on him, on being his perfect little fuck toy. When the Pillarman did finally find release, you’d already lost consciousness, the heat has addled your mind, your lungs straining beneath the weight and force of Kars’ thrusting body, the combined sensations causing you to blackout just before he filled you with his seed. Heaving a deep sigh, Kars continued to dip and rock his heat as he filled you with thick ropes of creamy spend, his cum seeping from your gaping cunt when he eventually pulled out of you. Humming, Kars wrapped your exhausted, used body in his arms and turned the tow of you onto your sides, allowing you to rest while forcing his still half-hard, but increasingly soft, cock back into your pussy, keeping the heavy girth warm and wet and ready to fuck you again when you woke back up in a few hours. 

Chapter Text

The sound of skin slapping against skin echo through the cold stone room, jingling chains and deep grunts of pleasure adding to the cacophony. Your arms are held up above your head, slack apart from your hands, which a mangled and bloodied from how they’ve been woven into the chains. If you hadn’t been down here for so long, forced to kneel with bruised knees on the rough stone and made to take and take and take your captors’ cocks in a continuous, vicious cycle, you might have had the mental capacity to use your Stand to heal yourself. Unfortunately, Sorbet and Gelato had made sure that you wouldn’t be able to - not with how rough and hard they’d been using you for days now. You felt like your body was on the brink of collapse, your eyes all dried up from crying and your face tacky from the leftover residue of your tears. You couldn’t feel anything but the pleasure-pain that wracked your body, too oversensitive and filthy to do anything more than stay still and take what you were being given. 

A hand roughly tangles in your hair, jerking your head up from where it had been hanging uselessly, exposing your slack, vacant, drooling face to the blinking light of the camera. Gelato spat in your mouth and you whimpered, swallowing his saliva without complaint, knowing that if you didn’t you might end up in the black box again, forced to listen to the recordings of your babies crying for hours on end. Gelato laughed - high pitched, nasally, the worst sound you’d ever had to hear in your life - and gripped your chin, forcing you to stare right into the lens of the camera, “Look at what a wrecked little whore she’s become,” He sneered, deigning to speak to a non-existent audience than you, his grip on your chin bruising and making your jaw creak threateningly, “Isn’t she just the most beautiful slut you’ve ever seen? You raised such a perfect bitch, a filthy, needy cunt with no mind of her own, perfect for breeding but useless for anything else,” You felt tears well in your eyes at his words, the sight of them exciting Gelato as the blond turned and instructed Sorbet to go harder. The black-haired man ramming his huge cock into you did as directed with a grunt, shifting the angle of his thrusts to make sure you could feel every inch of his fat cock as he pounded your pussy into submission. The new angle had Sorbet’s balls buffing your clit, the heavy sack slapping wetly against the throbbing, overly sensitive bud, the sensation nearly enough to have you cumming.

But you didn’t. Neither of your captors had permitted you to cum yet. You were too scared, too mindless with pleasure and pain, to even think about disobedience now. You didn’t want to be stuck in this room any more. You wanted to be good, you wanted to earn their forgiveness, you wanted to feel them cum inside you instead of on you, to let you cum after so, so long. Your inner muscles clenched down hungrily around Sorbet’s cock, the larger man snarling and biting into the back of your neck in response, drawing a pitiful whine from your throat in response. Gelato huffed in amusement, the blond’s hard cock leaking as he moved to stand in front of you, taking advantage of your slack, ruined mouth to slam the entirety of his cock down your throat in one brutal thrust. You didn’t choke, your gag reflex having been beaten into submission many, many months before, your mouth automatically closing around Gelato’s cock and giving the thick length a suck. You mewled pathetically, (E/C) eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body was wracked with shivers. The chains jingled above your head, bolts of intense pain lancing down your arms, a new wave of deep red blood trickling down your arms to your neck, chest and then dripping to the floor beneath you.  

Both men grew excited at the sight and smell of fresh blood, the red liquid staining your skin oh so beautifully, just the way they liked. With a shared glance, they moved your body so the camera could catch you from the side, filming the way your body swayed and jerked between the two men as they used you. You were theirs; their whore, their slutty little housewife, the woman they’d stolen right off the streets while you were in Italy for holiday, the mother of their children, who slept safe and unaware on the second story of the house. You were theirs to use, to punish whenever you would try to escape - which had become less and less ever since you’d had their children - to keep around for however long they would still want you. Gelato, talkative as always, has filth spilling from his mouth, the Italian only half-understood as the two purposefully only spoke around you in English, wanting to keep you helpless and isolated should you ever actually manage to escape long enough to speak to any passersby who could help, “Do you think we like hurting you, puttanna? Do you think we like having you on your knees, completely useless except to take our cocks and cum, helpless and on the edge for days while we show you what a bad girl you’ve been?” Gelato growled, the hand not buried in your hair coming down to slap your face harshly, pulling a low moan from your throat, the sound vibrating against the blond’s cock. He shuddered and groaned, fucking your face with vitriol, excited to spend his seed down your throat instead of cumming somewhere on your body, the length of your punishment coming to a culminating end as they filmed your debasement. It would be another way to keep you submissive and docile, a threatening piece of blackmail that they could oh so easily send to your loved ones outside of Italy, to torture them with the knowledge that you were alive and being used to cruelly.

Sorbet’s teeth dug sharply into the bruised flesh at the back of your neck, the sharp edges threatening to break the skin before he released it, hot tongue laving over the deep purple bite mark, his voice a breathy rumble as he spoke, “Because we fucking love it, stronzetta. We love watching your body become bruised and bloody by our hands. No one can use you like this,” The black-haired man grunted, surprisingly talkative now that he was heading towards another orgasm, intending to pump your womb full with his seed, to knock your bruised, perfect little body up again, intent on watching your belly swell and grow with another one of his and Gelato’s bastards. You whimpered and moaned when one of Sorbet’s hands slipped lower, fingers rubbing and pinching your clit, urging your body closer and closer to a harsh peak, though you remained hovering at the edge, terrified to cum without permission. They were fucking your harder, meaner, deeper than they had the days before, intent on finishing now that they’d broken your spirit and turned you into their little housewife doll once again, “Be a good girl and cum for us, putanella, I want to see your tight pussy dripping with my cum,” Sorbet growled, his words drawing a snicker from Gelato, who now smothered your face against the base of his cock.

The lack of air and Sorbet’s harsh pinch to your clit were enough to have to tumble over the edge with a cracked, muffled wail, your inner walls tightening and cramping up from the force of your orgasm. It was so intense that you cried, squirting all over Sorbet’s cock, the black-haired man slamming himself into the base and pumping the back of your used cunt with his thick, creamy cum. Gelato groaned and filled your throat, messy strands of seed trickling from the corners of your mouth and out of your nose when you choked around the sheer volume, your lungs and trachea burning from the sensation. They held you there for several long moments, stuffing your body with seed and satisfying the aches and craves of your bruised and battered body, before they finally pulled back, slipping their spent cocks out of you. You coughed and spluttered, clearing your airways and instinctively arching your back to prevent any drop of Sorbet’s seed from leaving your filled cunt, clenching your inner walls to keep it all inside you. Your tongue lolled from your mouth, stained and drooling a mixture of spit and cum. You felt Sorbet cup your chin and force you to look up, Gelato holding the camera right up to your face, “What do you say after your Masters have used you, cagna?” Gelato crooned, admiring how wrecked your expression was, the way you tried to slurp the drooping strand on your tongue back into your mouth, fully broken and trained to be the perfect bitch.

Swallowing thickly, your voice was a weak, slurred little croak, “Thank you, Masters,” Your words soon followed by the beep of the recording coming to an end. Now that you remembered your place beneath them, Gelato and Sorbet eagerly praised you for being a good slut, for taking your punishment so well after you were such a bad girl. Part of you felt happy from the praise, your hands feeling some relief as the chains released your arms, the mangled flesh being quickly healed as Sorbet instructed you to use your Stand. You were happy when Gelato lifted you into his arms, the blond carrying you up the stairs out of the basement while Sorbet shut and locked it behind them both, the sound of the heavy locks clicking into place causing you to shiver, whimper and bury your face into the crook of Gelato’s neck. The blond crooned and nuzzled you with false tenderness, relishing how tiny and helpless you were now that you’d given into them again. Both he and Sorbet knew that they’d eventually leave little ‘clues’ for you to use to try and ‘escape’ again in a couple of months when you’d be heavy and desperate to leave to ‘save’ the child in your belly. 

They could hardly wait to chase you down and break you again.

Chapter Text

There are many moments in Rohan Kishibe’s life where he regrets not having acted sooner. The night his babysitter Reimi died, choosing not to become a Mangaka sooner in life, moving to Morioh only a year after he’d mused that he’d like to return to his home town. 

Finding and taking Kira out earlier.

Yes, there were many moments in his short life where he had regrets. 

None so much more than watching you flirt and talk with Okuyasu as if the young fool deserved your attention at all. Tightening his fist around the pen in his hand, Rohan tried not to glare over in your and Nijimura’s direction, the hateful, acidic jealousy bubbling hot in the pit of his gut. Over the few years you’d been away from Morioh to study your chosen major, you’d blossomed into quite the astounding beauty. Gone was the shy, frumpy looking high schooler who’d spent afternoons at his home, eagerly listening to Rohan talk on and on and on for hours to Koichi, the Mangaka having forgotten your presence almost entirely while he spoke to his friend. Certainly, there had been an air of cuteness surrounding you, an eagerness to talk to and learn from Rohan that, at the time, had been off-putting to the older man. He’d been uninterested in spending time with you, finding you quite boring after your first meeting, your Stand and past - that he’d read without your knowledge - extremely mundane for the green-haired man.

Yet, you’d followed him around like a lost little puppy, offering to show Rohan around Morioh - even though Koichi had already done that weeks ago - or to grab a coffee, hell, you’d even asked him for advice regarding your ‘art’. Though he’d been... less than tasteful about your ‘talents’ as an artist, that hadn’t seemed to phase you, your eyes starry and excited just from getting the chance to talk to Rohan. It had been very obvious, to anyone that saw you around the Mangaka, that you were head over heels for the bitchy green-haired man. Your infatuation for him had been so obvious that Rohan hadn’t needed to read it in your life story, the big bold letters ‘I have a crush on Rohan Kishibe’ constantly blaring out at him when he’d first opened you up to read through your experiences. At the time, Rohan had scoffed; the older man had no interest in a high schooler’s puppy love for him, but he hadn’t felt the need to avoid you or be needlessly cruel to you by belittling you for being so interested in him.

It was a natural course of growing up. He couldn’t hold it against you, of course. So he just hadn’t said anything at all.

Then... then you’d confessed to him the day after you turned 18, “It’s okay to love me now, Rohan-sensei... Please tell me that you love me, I know you feel the same!” With your eyes bright and hopeful, but Rohan had immediately squashed whatever fantasy you’d had that he might return your feelings. The green-haired man had, very bluntly and in his opinion kindly, told you that he had no interest in dating someone barely legal. It had broken your heart - all those years of pining, of daydreaming and hoping you might have made some kind of impression on him, that he might return your feelings, were crushed to tiny little pieces beneath Rohan’s polished heels. You had, at the time, been devastated, tearing up as the man you ‘loved’ turned his back to you and went off to do who knows what for the rest of his day, leaving you reeling and trying to fix the pieces of your broken heart back together. You’d spent the last few months of your high school career outright avoiding Rohan, the man slightly relieved yet strangely disappointed that you didn’t try to hang around him or Koichi any longer. Hell, you’d even gone so far as to isolate yourself from the rest of the group, barely hanging out with your high school ‘clique’ - and when you’d graduated top of the class, you’d whisked away to some foreign country, choosing the exchange program for Japanese language and culture in Tokyo so you could get away from your home town to lick your emotional wounds.

Now, you were back, grown and matured and so gods damned beautiful you made Rohan’s heart leap into his throat whenever he caught your eye. The green-haired man hadn’t even recognised you at first, thinking you were just some girl the others had met and befriended. Then you’d looked him right in the eye, smiled wryly and said, “It’s good to see you again, Rohan,” in the coldest voice he’d ever heard. 

And Rohan Kishibe suddenly regretted everything that had led him to this moment in particular. You and Okuyasu had been on and off again flirting with one another, the younger man obviously smitten with you. Rohan could only hope you didn’t feel the same, though, with the small, warm smiles you gave him and the amused twinkle in your eye, the Mangaka feared he’d lost you. He cursed his past self for ruining the relationship between you and him, the green-haired man now desperately trying to vie for your attention and affection instead of the other way around. While you hadn’t been particularly warm towards Rohan’s advances, the Mangaka could tell that you were at least interested in what he had to say to you. It was so obvious, you were just acting coy, pretending not to, he could tell that you weren’t over him - you were just playing hard to get. Or so, Rohan kept telling himself, unaware of that fact that you and Okuyasu had already started dating, the green-haired man blinded by his jealousy and refusal to admit to what was right in front of him. No, no, you would still be his, Rohan was sure that if he confessed to you, you’d run right into his arms, weeping for joy that he’d finally returned your affections-

“I’m sorry, Kishibe, but I haven’t felt that way about you in a long, long time,” Is what you say a few days later to Rohan, the green-haired man standing on your porch with a bouquet in one hand and a broken heart in his chest. He stares at you, uncomprehending, as you smile awkwardly and try to close the door on him, “Honestly, it was just a dumb puppy crush - you know how those kinds of things are. I’m surprised that you’d think I’d still be holding out a candle for... well, for you,” It’s the cruelty of your words that fracture through Rohan’s paper-thin denial, that pierces the fog he’d carefully crafted around himself to pretend he doesn’t notice the way you and Okuyasu look at each other. Beneath the heartbreak, he’s furious, his obsession with correcting the past turning into full-blown hysteria, the older man using his surprising bout of strength to rip your front door open, calling upon his Stand too quickly for you to try and get away. You fall to the floor, your body unravelling around you, paper trails of your life spilling across the hardwood as Rohan stands over your, dark eyes bright and feverish as lightning flashes behind him.

“I’ll make sure you’ll be mine, (Y/N). I have a lot of time to make up for breaking your heart, after all.” 

Chapter Text

“I want to tell you I love you until my throat bleeds, (Y/N).” 

Kakyoin’s voice is soft as he watches you sleep, admiring the soft, relaxed expression on your face. It had taken so, so long for him to finally have you here, in his bed, asleep beside him. You were just so perfect, trusting him as he lay beside you, your body instinctively curling up closer to him for warmth. Noriaki was happy he’d decided to take away your blanket, relishing the feeling of your body against his as you sought any small amount of warmth. Gods, he loved you so much, he thought to himself, cuddling up closer to you and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, frowning when the metal of your muzzle got in the way.

Ah, no matter, he hummed, kissing your forehead instead, all for the sake of keeping you compliant and sweet, just for Noriaki. That’s why he had your wrists and ankles shackled to the bed, after all... he could never allow you to just leave his side, not when the world was so large and terrifying. You’d get lost, swallowed up by the drivel and the boring people of the world, destroyed from the inside outwards. Only you were the person Noriaki trusted, the only person he loved... he couldn’t lose you, couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t wander off if you were free to walk through the house. You were such a silly thing, crying for the outside world when Kakyoin could give you anything and everything you could ever wish for. The redhead clenched his hands on your hips, the touch tight enough to leave bruises on the soft swell, the pain nearly enough to pull you out of your slumber with a whimper, “Ah, shh, sorry beloved, I didn’t mean to wake you... go back to sleep, my (Y/N),” Kakyoin crooned softly, shifting his grip on you to sling a warm arm around your waist, watching with lovestruck eyes as you sighed and snuggled closer. 

One day, the redhead was sure you’d make his heart explode. Noriaki couldn’t help but bury his face in your hair, inhaling the beautiful, cloying scent of hydrangeas and feeling whatever tension he had in his body dissipate. You were just so perfect for him... why couldn’t you see that? He was just trying to keep you safe and by his side. Kakyoin had known from the first moment he’d met you, all those years back in high school, that you were the one for him. The way you smiled, the way you laughed, how kind and genuine you were whenever the two of you spoke. Of course, there had been many girls before you who had been the same - for some reason, he always seemed to attract the sweet girls who would end up disappointed by his standoffish and cold personality - but you... you had caught Noriaki’s eye near immediately. 

It had been fate, in Kakyoin’s mind, that he’d met you. The two of you had bumped into each other on the way to school, and you had both ended up dropping your bags, scattering your school supplies around the area you’d fallen. You had been so helpful in recovering Noriaki’s stuff, your movements quick and precise, snatching up the papers and pencils making a mess around you both. Of course, those who didn’t have Stands would have just thought you were fast and diligent, shuffling and putting Kakyoin’s items near his bag while you stuffed yours. Indeed, it had been one of those ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moments for Kakyoin, his purple gaze easily catching sight of the thin, ghostly wires that spread out from your fingers or the near armour-like Stand that hovered just over your skin. A protective Stand, one Kakyoin had never had the pleasure to learn the name of before you’d bolted up and apologised for bumping into him. It had been, in his opinion, love at first sight, the redhead stricken and filled with longing when you’d left him there to hurry to class.

Kakyoin had become fairly quickly infatuated with you. He’d tried everything he could to be around you, to spend his time with you, talk to you, touch you, anything at all just to experience the skip in his heartbeat and the tightness in his gut. At first, he’d disregarded you trying to get away from him as shyness - after all, the two of you barely knew one another - but over time he’d been able to tell that you were beginning to avoid him... and he could not let that stand. He redoubled his efforts after that, popping up in places he knew you’d be at, scaring off potential rivals and your ‘friends’ when they started helping you keep away from Kakyoin - but it still wasn’t enough. It would never have been enough until Noriaki had you in his arms and by his side. 

When he’d heard about your plans to escape Japan after graduation, Kakyoin was the first to admit he might have panicked just a little. He chuckles softly at the memory, pressing another kiss to your forehead, voice whisper soft as he spoke, “Remember how easy it was for me to break into your house? You were always so stubborn, sleeping with your window open in the dead of night, believing you would be safe...” He trailed off, remembering how the redhead had to use a tranquillizer to keep you quiet and compliant enough for him to escape with you from the windows of your parents’ home. It had been easy to fudge some evidence to indict your parents in the reason for your disappearance, and once Kakyoin had you stashed away somewhere safe, covering his tracks using the Speedwagon Foundation’s resources was only necessary to keep Kakyoin out of the police records, “You were so shocked when you woke up, darling,” He mused, trailing slim fingers up the back of your spine, delighted when you shuffled closer, unaware that even in your sleep you were trying to get away from Kakyoin’s touch, “To think, that was only two years ago... time sure does fly, doesn’t it? Hmmm, I should come up with something cute to do on our anniversary... if you behaved, I would’ve suggested going out for dinner.”

You continued to sleep, Noriaki’s voice soft enough that it didn’t rouse you from your slumber. Humming to himself, the redhead shrugged the thoughts to the back of his mind, “Ah well, I’ll be able to come up with something tomorrow morning. You’ll give me some ideas, won’t you, (Y/N)? After all, it’s your anniversary too, love,” He yawned, snuggling closer to you, eager to see what the next day would bring. You barely made a noise as Kakyoin tangled his body with yours, happy to curl up and allow his mind to be swept up into the land of dreams. 

Chapter Text

The music pumped through your veins in a sluggish haze as you stumbled through the house towards one of the unoccupied bedrooms. When you’d been invited by your friend to come to one of the few house parties thrown by the seniors at your college, you hadn’t thought you’d get this drunk. Nausea and exhaustion both swirled for control over your movements, and you had to pause for a moment, leaning up against one of the walls to heave and swallow back bile, “Fuck it, whoever’s in the next room is jus’ gonna have to deal,” You huffed to yourself, grabbing onto the door handle and whining when it didn’t budge. Ugh, you couldn’t do this... you were either going to hurl or pass out and you’d rather do that in a quiet, locked room than out here in the hallway. This was a mistake, maybe you should go find your friend and convince her to leave-

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” Jolting out of your shock at the familiar voice, a burst of fear rushed through your veins. Fuck, fuck, no this couldn’t be happening, right? There was no way Professor Polnareff lived in student housing, right? Whimpering, you felt the large Frenchman grab you by the shoulders and lift you off of the floor, his large, warm arms cradling you gently, “Oh, mon petite, it seems you must have gotten lost from the party down below, non? Why else would I find you trying to get into my apartment so late at night?” You froze as Polnareff’s words, heart beating loud in your ears, the fear of being held by the Professor who’d been stalking you for months now quickly sobering you up. Still, your mind spun dizzyingly, and you stumbled as the silver-haired man held you, a shudder of revulsion rocking down your spine when he cooed, his warm breath washing over your clammy skin, “Oh my, my, my, cherie, shhh, come, let us get you inside my apartment and into bed. You must be exhausted, non? Don’t you worry (Y/N), I’ll take good care of you.”

You barely managed to slur your Professor’s name, which he ignored before Polnareff unlocked his apartment door and carried you into the surprisingly neat and cosy room. You squirmed but couldn’t get away, your heart sinking to the pit of your gut when the sound of the lock clicking behind you rang in your ears. Polnareff hummed lightly and hung his keys on a nearby hook, turning his full attention to you and huffing slightly when he saw how badly you were swaying around, “Oh mon Dieu, you must have drunk quite a lot tonight, hmm?” Polnareff clicked his tongue and shook his head, moving so he could lift you into a princess carry. Once he had you comfortably in his arms, he carried you with relative ease into his bedroom, ignoring your soft, mumbled pleas to be released, “Now, now, there’s no need to fuss, mon amour, shhh, I’ll take such good care of you,” Polnareff murmured, pressing what was meant to be a sweet kiss to your lips, only for you to turn your head away with a wrecked little sob, “Awww, cherie, don’t cry! I promise, I’ll be very, very gentle with you, I know what you need to help you feel better,” Polnareff crooned, the sickeningly kind tone of his voice sending shivers up your spine, fear and revulsion swimming through your slow thoughts. You felt like you were going to pass out, but the fear kept you out of the darkness as Polnareff set you down on his bed.

You could only squirm and struggle weakly as your Professor began to carefully unclothe you, weeping and babbling nonsense that Jean couldn’t begin to decipher, not that he would have cared to. The silver-haired Frenchman kept a painfully soft, loving smile on his face, his light blue gaze roaming each inch of skin that was revealed as he peeled you clothes off of you, “Oh, mon amour, you’re so perfect,” He murmured once you were naked, horror tightening your gut when you felt the beginning stages of arousal drip from between your thighs. Jean’s throat clicked wetly when he swallowed, the larger man staring between your breasts and your flushed pussy, debating whether he wanted to toy with your tits or if he wanted to taste the warmth of your cunt against his tongue. Whatever he’d decided, you blacked out briefly when he moved to undress, your exhaustion taking you under before you could stop it, and you only came back to yourself with a thick moan of pleasure, your head lolling to the side and eyes blinking blearily open. Your Professor's head moved between your thighs, blue eyes feverish as they locked with your (E/C) ones, his mouth wrapped around your clit and giving the throbbing bud hard sucks as his fingers scissored your pussy open. You whimpered as a wave of pleasure washed over you, your vision going blank and swimming into focus in short, static bursts, giving you brief glimpses into what Polnareff was doing to your lax body.

Blink and he crawled over your body, kissing you with his slick lips, the taste of your juices thick and heady on his tongue. Blink and his head was by your breasts, teeth grazing the undersides as he marked you with deep bruises, murmuring hotly against your skin, unintelligible to your foggy mind. Blink and you feel full, full, full, Polnareff’s thick cock spreading your cunt and forcing your body to mould around his, the base of his cock rubbing against your clit as he waited for you to grow used to the stretch, whispering soft affections into your mind, “I love you, I love you, mon petite souris, mmmh, you’re so perfect, so hot and tight around me, taking me like you were made for me,” His words are ardent, choking your mind with the sickening affection he held for you, his arms and legs boxing you in, your knees draped over his muscular thighs as he began to thrust, slow and purposeful. Blink and you find his head right beside yours, mouthing and biting at the sensitive crook of your neck, his hips pounding, pounding, pounding into yours, the bed creaking from the force of his thrusts, one hand circling your wrists and pinning your lax hands to the mattress by your head. Pleasure rockets through your body in thick waves, your juices gushing around Polnareff’s cock as he fills you, stuffs your cunt with the fat, hot weight of his cock, the tip ramming harshly into the back of your cunt, sending echoes of painful pleasure trailing cold fingers up your spine, “I need you, I love you, I fucking need you more than I need to breathe, mon amour, my (Y/N), so perfect for me, mine, mine, mine,” He whispers, breath hot and sticky against your ear, his thrusting picking up speed, the pleasure overwhelming you as you whimper and moan, “Cum for me, cum on my c-cock, hahh, yes, you’re so perfect, je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime, a-ah!”

With one last hard thrust, you feel something explode within you, your muscles clenching so tightly around Polnareff’s thick length that it forces him to come to a halt. The silver-haired man has just enough strength to bottom out inside you, a thick growl ricocheting in your mind as he grinds into the milking clutch of your pussy. You feel strangely numb and disjointed from what’s happening, watching Polnareff’s grinding and rutting into your motionless body from somewhere directly above the bed instead of laying on it. You know you’ve cum, you know you should be feeling the pleasure, the thick ropes of the French Professor’s seed, the exhaustion from the drinking, dancing, struggling and fucking, but it’s all so, so far away from you. You shut your eyes and when you blink them open again, bright sunlight filters from the haphazardly drawn curtains above the bed you’re laying in. You’re on your back, your body throbbing with pain and a headache pounds at your mind, but you’re frozen in place from the casual arm Polnareff has slung around your torso, just beneath the bruised swell of your breasts. That numbness is still present, dissociating you from the present and keeping you silent as you stare up at the ceiling, your mind constantly clicking through what had happened last night.

Tears, hot and fat, roll down your cheeks silently as your Professor slumbers beside you, his grip on your body tightening so he could snuggle up even closer. 

Chapter Text

“Sweetheart, you need to eat,” Your captor’s voice is soft as he speaks, the kindness you’d thought was just that of friendship long since tainted by the man’s actions. You keep your face turned away from him, dull (E/C) eyes staring out the nearby window, your mouth pressed into a thin line as you keep yourself quiet. He sighs, placing the spoon back into the bowlful of soup he’d brought with him, the hand that had been holding it out to you moving to press and caress the slight bump in your abdomen, “It’s not good for the baby for you to pout like this, sweetheart. Don’t make me get the tube.”

The tinge of coldness in his tone is enough to make you quiver, and you turn your face back to your ex-Professor, Vanilla Ice’s glare melting back into that patient, sweet expression you’d grown so used to hating. When he pulls his hand away from your sensitive belly to hold out a spoonful of soup to you, you sigh and take it without another fight, shuddering in slight disgust when the lukewarm fluid spills down your throat. Vanilla Ice coos and leans in to kiss your forehead, the larger man steadily feeding you more and more of the soup you’d made just a few days before your last escape attempt. You want to spit the acrid tasting food from your mouth, but the hunger gnawing at your gut forces you to finish the entire bowl, Vanilla setting the clean bowl to the side and picking up a plate of food that had been left on the bed beside him. You grimaced, hoping he would at least leave the bedroom to heat the food back up once more... but you knew this was Vanilla’s attempt to make a point - if you didn’t eat when he told you to, your food would go cold. 

“Good girl. See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Vanilla hummed, cutting the meat, potatoes and vegetables up into little bite-sized pieces, the humiliation of having to be fed by your ‘husband’ causing your gut to curdle with anger. You remained quiet though, thinking maybe if you kept silent you’d at least be able to protest your imprisonment in some other manner. Your ex-Professor sighed at your stubborn quiet, the disappointed look he shot you causing a quiver of cold fear to lance through your heart, “I really wish you’d stop pouting about your punishment, (Y/N). You knew what the consequences would be if you tried to leave without me being there to take care of you,” You flinched and looked away guiltily, hating that the upset in Vanilla’s tone could make you feel so bad for the older man. Gods, you hated this, hated him, but somewhere in your heart you just couldn’t let go of the friendship the two of you had shared. You jumped slightly in surprise when you felt Vanilla Ice stroke your belly once more, drawing your attention away from your morose thoughts to the process of getting fed once more, “You know why I have to keep you here, don’t you? I’m doing all of this to keep you safe, my love... this world doesn’t deserve an angel like you,” The words are enough to nearly make you cringe away from Vanilla Ice’s touch, disgust, sadness and confusion clashing in your mind.

You had to push the emotions aside when Vanilla held a bite of food to your lips, a sigh passing from your mouth as you took it, chewed and swallowed the food without complaint. You had to bite back the disgusted grimace on your face, cold chicken and potatoes squeaking disgustingly around in your mouth, the slimy reheated vegetables breaking down into a cold jelly-like substance over your tongue. Eurgh... maybe you shouldn’t have been so stubborn and just let Vanilla Ice feed you. The Professor hums and continues scooping forkful after forkful of food, steadily working through the ‘balanced’ meal so that you and the child growing inside you would be strong and healthy. Once the plate was empty, he sighed and put everything aside, planning to bring it all to the kitchen later. You winced when he leaned into peck your lips lightly, the brunet man humming in disappointment when you didn’t just yield and give in to the press of Vanilla’s lips against yours, before he pulled away with a sigh and a glare, “You know, things would just be easier if you’d just talk to me to tell me what you want, dearest,” Your ‘husband’ huffs, running his fingers through his hair to make sure it stayed out of his face. The gorgeous locks tumbled over his shoulders, wavy from having been kept up in a bun throughout the day as he’d worked. You felt this strange urge to reach out and comb your fingers through it, see how soft Vanilla’s hair was - no, stop that, no yearning thoughts about the man that kidnapped and forced you into this life of solitude. None of that. You were not going to play ‘happy spouse, happy house’ with this guy, even if it’d kill you.

“... I just wanted to go outside,” You whisper tiredly, your voice rough from not having used it for days now, the sound drawing a relieved noise from Vanilla Ice, who shuffled closer to your bound figure, both of his hands cupping and caressing the bump in your middle. He only paused briefly when you spoke, dark eyes sharp as he locked them with yours, waiting silently for you to continue. You swallowed thickly, cowering beneath his stare, fearing that you might have angered him in some way, even though he did say he wanted you to communicate your wants with him, “I just - you never just let me go outside you know... the garden out back is fenced in, you’ve got cameras everywhere, I just want... to go outside,” You murmured tiredly, shoulders slumping and eyes sliding shut. You couldn’t look at Vanilla right now, bitterness and anguish squeezing your heart tightly in their fist, “I haven’t gone outside in so long, Vanilla... I miss the sun,” You finished your words in a whisper, barely heard as you confessed what you wanted, though the extent of your escape attempt was ignored. Certainly, you still wanted to escape from this place, to take your baby and run as fast and as far away from Vanilla Ice as you could... but you genuinely just missed being able to go out without having to constantly fight your ‘husband’ on it.

You were both quiet after your words, Vanilla Ice’s touch continuing to stroke and pat your belly, the larger man mulling your words over in his mind. You looked so tired, pale and drawn that guilt filled his heart. Of course, you’d want to go outside - you’d been a fairly active person when you were still just his student, so it must be so difficult for you to lounge inside all day. But at the same time - the thought of you going outside, of being seen and coveted by another when you were Vanilla’s made the brunet man’s blood boil thick and hot. No, he couldn’t let you go outside, not when you looked so good, when you were his wife and carrying his baby, not when so many people would look at you with their disgusting desires painted on their faces. Leaning in Vanilla Ice kissed your forehead once again, murmuring a soft, “I’m sorry, my love,” and watching as whatever fleeting hope you’d had that he would listen to your words sank out of your body in a soft exhale. You remained silent after, staring up at the ceiling and pretending Vanilla Ice didn’t exist, tired and bitter as the man continued to lavish your growing middle and the rest of your body with soft affection. 

Chapter Text

“Did you really think you could help your pathetic little friends escape me?”

The cold voice of your Master washes over your body, a whimper ripping itself from your throat as you struggled to raise your body up and down at a regular pattern, your pussy hot and dripping around the huge toy inside you. Kars as you kneeling in front of his throne, the perfect being’s blood-red gaze narrowed on your sweating, struggling form. Beside him, two of the members of the pillarmen’s harem drape themselves over the arms of his chair, the two vampires watching lazily as you’re forced to fuck yourself on the toy Kars had selected for you, punishment for your disobedience. They were watching the flush on your skin, hungry for human blood as all vampires were, while Kars kept them beside him to feed off of later, once he’d managed to thoroughly put you in your place beneath him. You bite your tongue and try to hold back the tears that continue to slip down your face, your eyes unfocused as pleasure rushed through your body with each stroke of the toy. While you hated that you were being made to pleasure yourself surrounded by the undead army Kars controlled, there was something, deep inside you, that relished showing everyone just how depraved you were. The humiliation and lust mingled together in a heady, nearly painful concoction, encouraging you to pick up speed and force as you sob and whine for your Master’s forgiveness, “K-Kars, please...”

Kars sneers and gestures for the two vampires beside him to move towards you, the barely dressed beings moving to either side of your body. You jumped in surprise when they each began to caress your body, tweaking your nipples and gripping your hips to force you to take the toy harder, faster, deeper into your sopping cunt, your voice cracking on a high pitched wail at the sensations that rushed through you, “Do you think yourself worthy to call my name, (Y/N)? After what you’ve done you should be glad that I wouldn’t throw you to my army to take you as they pleased,” The perfect being sneered, fangs on glinting display as your body was forcefully fucked onto the toy, the size of it barely comparable to that of your Master. You whined and shook your head, weak as the two vampires on either side of you began kissing your neck, one of their hands moving between your thighs to pinch and tug at your clit, “You don’t even know how lucky you are,” Kars snarled, the large pillarman leaning back in his seat, relishing the sight of his favoured pet putting themselves on display, pleased with how they arched their back and begged for mercy, “I protect you and provide for you, yet you still try to betray me, you still try to save those that should be beneath you, those that abandoned you to your fate to be my toy,” You release a wretched sob at his words, doubt and lust and Kars’ manipulations breaking your resolve with every thrust you made down on the toy. Oh, how you ached to be in your beloved Master’s arms, to have his cock inside you, to be treated with his love once more. Fearfully, you wondered if this would be Kars’ breaking point if this would be the reason that he’d give up on turning you into his perfect little pet, the thought sending tears down your flushed cheeks as you hiccupped and sobbed more, “You’re such a spoiled little thing - pathetic, weak - and yet, I’ve been so kind to you, I’ve been loving and tolerant of your limitations, I have waited for you to come to me and give yourself to me fully... and still, those that have hurt you are the ones you would rather be with? Don’t act so ungrateful.” 

“I-I’m sorry!” You sob, voice cracking on the words as you’re held down by the vampires on either side of you, your soaked labia and clit grinding against the cold, pristine marble flooring of the throne room. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head from how full you were, the tip of the toy rubbing right up against your g-spot, further wrecking your mind as you whimper, “I’m sorry, Master, I-I-I-I shouldn’t have-” You hiccup and whine, swollen, teary (E/C) eyes looking up at Kars, begging for forgiveness, “I shouldn’t have helped them escape, I’m s-sorry, you were r-right, they... they lef-left me here, I-I’m-!” You wept bitter, broken tears, hunched over and babbling, the pain of betrayal and the pleasure of the toy inside you causing your last little bit of resolve to bend until it broke, drowning you in the regret of betraying your Master. Kars sighed at the sight, his expression turning to something warm and pitying, the large pillarman gesturing for the two vampires to lift you and bring you over to Kars, the soaked toy left behind, suctioned to the floor and dripping from your juices. When you realised you were being brought to Kars you struggled out of the vampires’ grips, practically crawling into Kars lap and curling up against his chest, whimpering and sobbing as his arms wrapped around you, “I-I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, Master!” You whined, wrapping your arms around Kars’ neck and nuzzling into him. 

Hope fluttered in your chest as Kars gently held your chin and tilted your head back so he could kiss your cheeks, thinking perhaps your Master had forgiven you for your betrayal, but that hope was squashed into dismay when Kars spoke once more, “Oh, I know you’re sorry darling, I know you are, hush now. You need to earn my forgiveness, pet,” Kars crooned, voice dark and stormy despite the warmth her spoke with, the contrast shooting shivers of fear up your spine as you sob once more. Feeling the hard length of Kars’ cock spring free from his clothing, you hiccupped and leaned back, grinding your pussy along the underside of his dick, completely pushing away the hungry stares that watched your movements. Little human in a den full of bloodthirsty vampires, barely protected by Kars’ strict hand, and you thought you would be able to free your ‘friends’ because the pillarman had been so lenient towards you in the past. How pathetic, Kars thought to himself, both of his hands clutching your hips, wordlessly instructing you to lift your cunt to rest it against the tip, “You’re going to have to be a good girl and keep me warm and hard while I decide what to do about your pesky little friends, do you understand? If you can sit here and be quiet, I’ll forgive you,” The pillarman murmurs, cruelly driving your hips down, piercing your sensitive, tight little body with his large, fat cock, pinning you in place.

You came from the intrusion, your releasing gushing from you so suddenly you couldn’t hold back the breathy whine of “Y-Yes Master,” that left your throat. You shifted your hips, spread your legs so wide they were nearly straining, trying to keep the full length of Kars’ cock inside you. Your Master huffed and turned your body so you faced the people surrounding you, your hazy gaze rolling lazily over the stricken features of the people you’d once thought of as your friends. The hard, thick length inside you filled you to the brim, your breaths hitching into soft sighs as you settled down for however long it would take Kars to finish this meeting. You were drawn back against your Master’s chest, the pillarman allowing you to relax back against him while he spoke, one hand caressing the bulge in your abdomen while the other was used for Kars to rest his head against his knuckles. Smirking, the pillarman beckoned the prisoners forward, placated for now by the hot, tight clutches of your inner walls. You were one step closer to becoming his perfect pet, and Kars couldn’t be prouder. 

Chapter Text

Your chains clink together and rattle as you move. The struggle and adrenaline of being in an unfamiliar place are beginning to wane, your throat feels raw from how hard you’ve been screaming. Your fear has doubled over the hour that you’ve been down here, surrounded by the darkness, barely held above what feels like an ocean of black. The only things that help you keep your sanity are the sounds of chains rustling and your own heavy breathing. If you were to scream again, there is no doubt in your mind your throat would end up bleeding. Despite yourself, tears spring to your eyes. Why was this happening to you? What had you done to deserve this horrifying moment? The last thing you could concretely remember was the feeling of something wrapped around your throat and the swimming, grinning face of one of your co-workers hovering above you.

Your breath hitches when you hear something click in the darkness, your head turning in the direction of the sound. That sounded like a door opening but... but you can’t see anything besides the dark. Panic swirls heavily in your gut, and it’s enough to have you struggle and fight against your bonds once more. Shit, shit, shit, what if you were blind?! What if whoever did this to you planned to torture then kill you? Oh god, oh god, oh god, you had to get out of here - you can’t handle the thought that you would be left a mangled, unrecognizable rotting corpse at the hand of whoever held you captive. Fuck, what if they planned to keep you here and slowly drive you insane? You don’t think you could handle that, you’d go crazy just constantly listening to the jingling of your chains. You can’t, you can’t do this, someone help-!

“You’re such a pretty little thing tied up like that, baby,” A familiar voice croons from somewhere in the room, seeming to come from all directions around you. You make a soft, terrified noise, trying to place where you recognise the voice from, wondering how the hell you missed the footsteps of your captor coming in. Your struggling body makes so much noise as you buck and writhe against your restraints... you must have distracted yourself in your panic. Fuck, shit, okay (Y/N), calm down, let’s try to be rational and think about what we’re doing-!

You jolt and try to flinch away from the soft trail of fingers against the naked skin of your stomach, the person who sounded so very familiar chuckling lowly above you, “So sensitive... I can’t help but wonder how you’d react if I touched your pussy, hmm?” The man hums from above you, the tone of his voice and the cadence with which he spoke sending alarm bells through your mind. You know this voice, you know that you do, but your terror of being in this place keeps you from thinking properly, “You must be so confused and scared, huh? I bet you’re worried about why you can’t see,” Your captor continues to murmur, slowly sliding his hands up your belly and towards your breasts, his hands caressing your naked skin. You suddenly realised just how little clothing you were wearing, the warmth of the room must have given the illusion that you were still fully clothed. You made a soft sound, a croak of discomfort that vaguely sounded like ‘Please’ but you went ignored, your captor fascinated with how hard your nipples became under the soft strokes of his fingers, “You’re so reactive... You don’t have to worry about your sight, I’ve just used something that’ll wear off in a few hours,” He hummed, continuing to tug and play with your nipples, the little buds becoming bruised and sensitive beneath his touch. Your captor murmured something you couldn’t quite understand, too preoccupied with the mounting horror that your cunt was starting to feel damp.

Curse your sensitive nipples! You thought to yourself, jolting away from the man’s touch with a cracked snarl, your head launching up to try and bite at his arms. Unfortunately, he was quick to snatch his hands away from you, cooing over how cute your attempts at fighting him were, the voice finally clicking in your mind when he called you by a semi-affectionate nickname. Oh god, only one person you knew used that nickname and you hated when he did so, “Kakyoin?” You whispered through your ragged throat, anger and annoyance colouring your features, followed swiftly by fear when you feel the man has moved away from where he’d been hovering above your head, your whole body jumping - as much as it could - with fright when those same slender fingers trailed slowly down your legs. If they had been freed from your bindings you would have kicked out against Kakyoin’s touch, but unfortunately, you were tied up and helpless to stop your creepy co-worker from touching you at his leisure, “Let me go,” You whimper reedily, the redheaded man ignoring your rough words in favour of exploring your body, his deep purple gaze lighting across your skin. It almost felt as if it was physical as if you could feel him touching the places he looked at. You hated it, you hated everything about this and most of all, you hated Kakyoin Noriaki for bringing you here.

“You must be tired,” Noriaki whispers, stroking a finger against your right inner thigh, the pad catching a droplet of your arousal that had managed to drip from your exposed folds. Putting the finger in his mouth he groaned thickly, cleaning your heady, earthy taste from his finger, hungrily staring at your pussy. Gods, he wanted to toss away whatever plans he had come up with and just crawl between your thighs to eat you till you came on his tongue... but he couldn’t do that. That would be moving too fast, it wouldn’t give you enough time to becomes desperate for Kakyoin’s touch just as desperate as he was for yours. He had to pace himself, had to make you break to mould you into the perfect partner. If he moved too quickly it would all be for nothing, and you’d never be able to learn how to be Kakyoin’s, “Hmm, though I’m tempted to stay here a little longer, I’ve got dinner simmering on the stove and I’d rather not have our first meal together be burnt. That would leave such a bad impression on you, wouldn’t it?” Noriaki mused, allowing his eyes to wander over your heaving, struggling figure once more, daring to reach up to cup your face - only to snatch his hand away when you hissed and tried to bite him again. 

Releasing a slow sigh, Noriaki kept his footsteps light as he walked back over to the door to ‘your room’, making sure to be extra quiet so you wouldn’t be able to tell where he was until he was already by the door, “I’ll come back down in a couple of hours, my (Y/N)... you should try to get some sleep, darling,” He purred, slowly sliding the door shut with a click, muffling your crackling scream of frustration with ease. He’d already had the majority of his house soundproofed when he’d first set his plans into motion, the redhead eager to have his perfect girl come live with him as quick as he could. He’d already sent in your letter of resignation to your workplace several weeks earlier, and with his connections to the SPWF, well, no one really asked any questions when they saw you and Kakyoin ‘hanging around’ each other. A crooked smile curled Noriaki’s lips, the redhead humming happily to himself as he made his way back downstairs, your screaming tapering off into sweet silence once more. He wondered if you’d like the dinner he’d prepared for you - he’d chosen to make your favourite after all. 

Chapter Text

It’s been so long since you’ve seen the sun.

You stare out of the window beside you, slowly rocking back and forth in the beautiful mahogany rocking chair Erina had had specially made for you. One hand rests on the heavy swell of your abdomen, feeling the slow kicks of Jonathan and Erina’s child against your palm, while the other holds a nearly finished blanket. There is a sense of tenderness to the picture from an outsiders point of view - a young woman preparing herself for motherhood, wistfully thinking of the day her child would rest in the safe, protective crook of her arms. Those who knew how you had gotten here and the history between you and the woman known to all as the Vampire Queen, would have felt pity to see you like this. This had steadily become your life since the death of Jonathan Joestar, and slowly you’d been forced to accept that this would be the way of the world. Bitterly, you couldn’t help but wonder if Erina would keep her word to let you go once the babe was born and weaned, or if she planned to forcefully keep you by her side. You wouldn’t put it past her - especially with how erratically she’d been behaving the last few weeks.

While you’d always loved Erina and accepted that you were destined not to be with the blonde when it was so clear she loved Jonathan, a part of you had always hoped that she would come to see you the same way. Perhaps it was the romantic buried deep in your heart, the one that had so desperately fought to be by Erina’s side as he closest ‘friend’, but you had always held out hope Erina could perhaps one day see you as a lover as well. It was a foolish notion, one you’d kept close to your chest, for fear you would ruin the friendship you had with Erina over your petty feelings. You had come to accept that you would never be seen by Erina the same was you saw her, content with the idea that you would simply be her friend for as long as you both lived. Hells, you had even entertained the idea of marrying Speedwagon, having seen how the blond man had looked to Jonathan, the two of you often spending time together, lamenting that the people you both loved were already in love with one another. You had been the one to propose the idea, knowing what people would begin to think of you both, and Speedwagon had admitted to mulling it over. 

Then, of course, the worst day of your lives had occurred. Jonathan was killed by Dio while at sea, and Erina had been forcefully changed by the blond menace before she’d been able to escape. It had been a horrifying ordeal, Erina had been near catatonic when she had first been brought back to land, but you’d stayed by her side and gradually helped her regain her footing in polite society. Or, well, as much as you could, given the circumstances. You’d had hope that she would be alright, that she would make a full recovery and become the somewhat cheerful Erina you knew and loved... but she’d become twisted, angry at the world, lashing out at you and Speedwagon no matter how hard you tried to help. She’d been nearly inconsolable when Erina realised she was pregnant, her fear that the corruption of her Vampiric essence would cause her to lose the only piece of Jonathan she still had. You’d spent days trying to comfort her, desperately trying to think of anything that could help, and... well, you suppose Erina’s new senses and abilities could tell just how deep your affection for her went. 

“You will do what I ask, won’t you, dear?” Erina had whispered the night she’d forced your body to take her and Jonathan’s child into your womb, her green gaze feverish and obsessed, fangs dripping with your blood as she held you down with a strength you didn’t know Erina had, “You said you would do anything to help me... you love me, don’t you?” You could barely remember what had happened that night, only Erina’s words still rang clearly through your memories, the coldness of her skin, the pain and pleasure of being stretched apart and opened up piece by piece before Erina had brought your body together again, changed beyond what you’d thought possible. You remembered the strangeness of your body, how heavy your gut had felt, the dishevelled look of Erina, naked and satisfied from what she’d done, “You’ll look so beautiful, carrying my and Jonathan’s child,” Erina had whispered to your horrified, stricken face, her arms wrapped around your waist as she nuzzled closer to you, ignoring the disgusted yet overjoyed confliction warring in your chest, “You’ll do something so special, so perfect for me... for Jonathan,” The way the blonde had said his name had made you feel sick, the proof that she only saw you as an extension of use to her goals leaving you hollow and empty and broken-hearted. You had been in such discomfort and pain that you couldn’t move, could barely eat, for a week straight, the nausea and terror of what Erina had done to you continuously circling through your mind. Even now, you felt the echoes and aches of that night rattle through your bones.

The memories of that night still stung, the knowledge that Erina was simply using you, your body, to get that which she coveted made you feel sick with a bitterness deep inside. Certainly, she played at being the affectionate lover with you, and she’d been more than happy to explore your body and please you with her hands and mouth, but you knew... you knew it wasn’t true love or affection she felt for you. No matter how many nights Erina would curl around you and croon that she loved you, you knew she only said that to try and manipulate you to stay. The worst thing was that it was working - with how close you were to giving birth, you would have thought you’d be eager and ecstatic to get away from Erina and the cage she’d created for you. You would have thought that Erina wouldn’t bother to play up the loving wife towards you, that she would push her focus to simply the babe in your belly, ensuring that her army of minions would be prepared to help her raise her child. But something seemed to have shifted somewhere and you found that you were terrified to leave this place. You were frightened to leave Erina’s side, fearing a world in which she would not be there to hold your hand and soothe you, to croon lovingly in your ear, to kiss you each morning and drink from your blood, to pleasure you... the thought that you would no longer have Erina in your life made you panicky and clingy, delighting Erina greatly. Steadily, the blonde woman had become far more possessive over you, refusing to allow you to leave her general sight if she wasn’t busy, accompanying you almost everywhere you went if she allowed you out of the rooms she’d had made just for you. 

Something had awakened within Erina - not that you were aware of it - and the blonde’s obsession had grown and grown more fervent, twisting into what she believed was true love, a second chance to have a loving, stable marriage with the woman she’d thought of as her best friend. You were hers, in Erina’s eyes, as she watched your body grow to accommodate her and Jonathan and your child. Instead of going through the motions to keep you happy and complacent, Erina had started to actively try harder, to woo you and show you the extent and depth of her love for you. But it wasn’t truly love, was it? At least, to your mind it wasn’t, not when you’d seen the way Erina interacted with Jonathan, the soft way she’d spoken about him, the expression of tender sweetness she’d always had when mooning about the late Joestar. You knew what Erina looked like when she was in love, and the bright-eyed, hungry, desperate expression she wore whenever she told you she loved you made it clear that Erina’s ‘love’ was merely obsession. Yet, you couldn’t help but crave more of this obsession, a deeply selfish part of your mind still desperately wanting Erina’s affection to be pointed towards you and not someone else. The thought made you feel ill, to know that your determination to keep Erina at arm's length was so weak, so brittle, that you were almost immediately giving in to all of the blonde’s desires.

“The heart wants what it wants, after all,” You muttered bitterly to yourself, rocking steadily in the chair Erina had commissioned be hand made just for you. You pulled the shawl around your shoulders in tighter, sighing deeply when the door to the nursery opened and the familiar steps of the Vampire Queen walked towards you. You tipped your head, knowing that Erina would lean in to kiss your cheek in greeting, her hands immediately darting down to feel the healthy, strong kicks of the (her, you remind yourself firmly, they’re her) child, “Hello Erina,” You mumbled, your eyes steadily trained on the world outside, even as Erina hummed and continued to kiss down your neck. A shiver worked its way up your spine, your body already becoming warm with need from the increasingly hungry kisses. You knew what it meant for Erina to kiss you this way, and already you could feel your pussy throb with need, a grimace curling your lips when the blonde tugged the front laces of your dress.

Erina hummed a greeting in return, a soft smile crooking her lips as she watched your breasts spill free from your top, “Hello, beloved... have you been behaving today?” The vampiress hummed, beginning to unbutton the remainder of your dress, her touches eager and hungry to feel your warm skin. You sighed and tipped your head back, nodding slowly, “Good, good... come now, darling, let’s get you out of these clothes and into bed. I believe it’s time for you to catch some rest, no?” Though Erina’s tone was questioning, you knew the words were an order. You hefted yourself out of the chair with some of Erina’s help, the blonde taking your hand and leading your out of the nursery. You left the blanket behind, stepping further into the darkness of the manor, forgetting the light of the sun once more. 

Chapter Text

“What are you doing here, Polnareff?”

Your voice meets the silver-haired hare-man’s ears, caressing them with the soft, husky tone. Jean perks up when he spots you, standing a few feet away from where he’d plopped down in front of your den, waiting patiently for you to return from... wherever it was you’d gone. The scent of your upcoming heat had been gently wafting to his nose as he sat there, though seeing you so close by and smelling so delicious is almost enough to have the hare’s leg thumping against the ground, “Bonjour, mon cherie! I see you finally returned from your hunt! I was waiting for you!” Polnareff’s tail twitched with excitement, the larger man hopping up to his digitigrade legs, the strong muscles bunching and shifting beneath the skin. You watched his legs warily, knowing just how strong the kicks of a hare could be, especially against your smaller stature. Sure, you were muscular yourself, but even your strength paled in comparison to that of the hare. Polnareff practically skipped towards you, nose and tail twitching furiously in excitement as he grabbed your clawed, bloodied hands in his, “I saw you last night before you left and…you looked beautiful, mon chere,” The hare-man crooned, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles before you could snatch them away, smearing his lips with tacky blood and feeling a thrill of arousal rush through him

He wanted to feel those claws dig and rake up his back as he pounded into you. 

You sneered in discomfort, yanking your hands from Polnareff’s hold and trying to ignore the heat that bloomed in the pit of your gut. You knew, instinctively, that you could chase this overgrown rabbit away from your den and then smuggle away somewhere new in the dead of night... but something told you that would just make Jean bolder with his approach to you, “Thanks, I guess, now what do you want?” You snapped, crossing your arms so Polnareff couldn’t take your hands in his once again, making the hare-man whine, his ears falling back against his head as he pouted, “You know I don’t have the patience nor the time to deal with your shenanigans, Polnareff. I need to get my den ready for-” You cleared your throat, awkwardly moving from one foot to the other, a light blush colouring your cheeks, the sight arousing the silver-haired man in front of you greatly, “-for mating season,” You muttered under your breath as if you were embarrassed by your upcoming heat, unaware of just how hungry the sight of you fiddling and awkward and, well, almost inexperienced. Jean knew you were a little younger than him, only independent from your pack for a year or two since you reached the age of majority, but surely you’d experienced a heat before now? Surely you had had other partners...

But wolves are monogamous, the hare realised, a bolt of lust and glee rushing through his heart. You’d been waiting for him, obviously, you had, none of the other wolves must have been suitable mates. The idea nearly makes Polnareff preen, the silver-haired man no longer listening to your speaking as his mind raced. Oh dear, he had to bring things from his own nest to yours! He had to make sure his scent was thoroughly drenching yours, had to make sure everyone in the mountains knew who your mate was. This was such a delightful turn of events for the hare-man, his leg unconsciously starting to bounce at a fast, regular rhythm, catching your attention and making you furrow your brows. Jean was staring at you intensely, though with an expression that seemed far away from the present. Unsure what was going on, but becoming warier and warier of where Polnareff’s thoughts had launched to, you gave the hare a soft growl and moved to walk past him, intent on getting into your nest and curling up to combat the exhaustion of your night hunt. 

Jean, however, would not simply let you pass. Not when he knew the reason why you were playing so hard to get. You were testing him, toying with the hare, trying to push him to be more obvious, more forceful with his affections. 

Grabbing your arm, Polnareff tugged you back with a small snicker, ignoring your undignified yelp to slam his lips against yours, stealing your breath with his hard, hungry kiss. Shocked, your mouth fell open and slack, giving the hare-man the perfect opportunity to slide his thick, wet tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss and devouring your lips with his. Gods, you tasted so good... the hint of blood lingering in your mouth just served to turn the hare on more, his leg bouncing at lightning speed, arms wrapping around your body to stop your squirming and struggling. You felt like you were going to pass out, revulsion filling your thoughts as Polnareff’s tongue rubbed and danced against yours, trying to encourage the rough muscle to join in the one-sided battle for dominance. His tail twitched happily as he finally got to kiss you, having dreamt and fantasised about this moment for so long, ever since he’d met you last winter. You were so soft, for a wolf, so small and easily fit into Polnareff’s arms, your body slotting against his like two puzzle pieces fit together. 

Panicking, you bit Jean’s tongue with a growl, sharp teeth breaking the skin and causing the hare-man to pull back with a shocked, pained noise. Instinctively, he let go of you, hands moving up to clasp his mouth, giving you a clear chance to escape his grasp. You didn’t waste a second longer, wiping your mouth of the blood and spit as you rushed towards your den, throwing a “Get the fuck away from me!” over your shoulder before slamming the door shut tight behind you. Jean continued to stand where he’d just been kissing you, staring wide-eyed and flushed faced as you disappeared, trying to staunch his bleeding tongue. A part of the hare felt hurt that you would do this to him, playing with his emotions before slamming the door - literally - in his face, while the larger, excited part of his mind was racing with ideas a mile a minute. So, it seemed he still hadn’t completed the courtship he needed to get you to invite him into your den. Humming, Jean spit a mouthful of blood onto the ground, rubbing his chin as he tried to think of what he could do to further woo you.

After all, it wouldn’t be much longer before your heat came crashing in... and Jean wanted to make sure he’d be the only mate you’d ever have. 

Chapter Text

You don’t know what you did wrong. Everything had been going perfectly to plan, you’d been playing your part so well tonight. You weren’t mean, didn’t purposefully try to burn the dinner, wore the dress, the makeup and the jewellery he’d gotten for you. You’d done everything perfectly.

So why was he still so, so angry with you?

“You’re mine, do you understand? You belong to me, puttanella,” Doppio snarls, hands clutching your hips so tight you knew his fingers would be leaving bruises on the soft skin, his hips ramming up into you with a speed and force that nearly made your clit and pussy go numb with pleasure. You’d already cum twice already, your pink-haired captor showing your body no mercy as he rammed his cock into you over and over and over again. All you could do was hiccup and try not to choke around the mouthful of the dildo that gagged you, your noises otherwise muffled from the toy Doppio had stuffed cruelly into your mouth. The straps holding the gag in place are wet with tears, your watery (E/C) eyes staring down at Doppio’s flushed and sweaty face, too terrified to look away, lest he makes good on his threat to pop your eyes out of your skull the next time they slipped closed, “That’s it, look at me, only at me, hahh, you’re so perfect... can you hear how wet you are? Can you feel how good my cock fucks your tight pussy? No one else can do that for you, bamba,” Doppio croons, watching you blink away the tears to clear your vision, his mismatched eyes - hazel brown and an almost lime green, fuck, fuck, you just hoped he wouldn’t show up tonight - drinking in the beautiful image you made, crying, wrecked and tied above him. 

Licking his lips, one of Doppio’s hands moved up, sliding up the soft pudge of your belly to cup and squeeze your right breast, the sensation painful enough to make you whine and sob beneath your gag. You could feel the pins and needles sting into your arms, tied up and held by the hook trailing down from the ceiling, successfully pinning you in place. Your hips were forced to rock into Doppio’s thrusts, the wet sounds of your rutting filling your ears, making your cheeks heat up with humiliation from just how much you’d gushed around your captor’s cock. Doppio grunted and shifted the hand on your breast, pinching and twisting your nipple, bruising the soft bud and causing it to sting in pleasure-pain. You arched your back, an ugly choked noise leaving your throat, your eyes fluttering halfway shut, though you forced them to stay open and on Doppio’s face, “Oh, good girl - you like that, don’t you, puttana? You like it when I bruise your pretty tits, make them all heavy and sore so you’ll remember how they felt in my hands for days, hmm?” Doppio sighed, his voice nearly dreamy as he slowed his pace, going purposefully slow and gentle, his thrusts turning into languid dips, shallowly pulling his cock from your tight, wet cunt only an inch at a time before he would thrust back inside you. You whined at the sensation, the fullness of Doppio’s cock nudging at the back of your pussy, reminding you of just how deep inside you he could reach. 

Tears spilt down your cheeks in messy rivulets, the sight shooting a thrill of power and hunger up Doppio’s spine, the pink-haired man humming languidly, forcing your hips still as he buried his dick into you to the hilt, “Hmmm, you feel so ice around me... I almost wish I’d never have to leave your hot, wet pussy,” Doppio sighed, head lolling to tip back, a powerful shudder wracking through his body as he did so. You heard him whisper to himself, the words unheard by you as blood rushed through your ears, your (E/C) eyes watching fearfully as his body twitched, grew bigger and shrunk, his skin writhing as Doppio’s grip got rougher, his nails elongating to prink painful crescents into your hip and breast, marking your skin deep with the indentations. You remained still aside from the terrified quiver that rocked through you, staring as Doppio seemed to finish his conversation with his ‘Boss’, your captor’s eyes rolling to the back of his head before he returned to himself, a pair of hazel brown eyes staring up at you with such tender adoration it made you feel sick, “Boss said he’s gonna have to buy some clamps to put on your nipples the next time he comes out to play,” He cooed as if delighted with the Boss’ plan, a soft smile curling his lips as Doppio briefly leans up to kiss your wet face, ignoring the wretched sob that tightened your body. 

The moment of tenderness doesn’t last long, Doppio allowing his body to fall back against the mattress with a satisfied hum, his eyes sliding shut once more before opening again, mismatched and dark with hunger, “We’ll get you a pretty little collar with your name on it, (Y/N) - something that’ll show everyone who you belong to, which man holds the end of your leash in his hands,” Doppio’s voice sounds layered, two different people speaking as one, deep and dark and light and boyish all at the same time. You whimper fearfully, wishing you could speak, that you could sob and beg and cling to Doppio while whimpering for forgiveness, even though you didn’t know why he was treating you this way. What had you done so wrong for your captor to snap and put you in this position? You haven’t tried to escape the isolated mansion for nigh three months, the last punishment still fresh on your mind and body, “You’ll wear it every day for us, won’t you, puttana? Hmm, maybe we’d even make it a little bit tight, have you keep our cock warm in that pretty mouth of yours, try to snap the band around your throat just to see how much you can take,” Doppio hissed, increasing the speed and force of his thrusts, racketing your body higher and higher to another painful peak, the hand that had been torturing your nipple moving back down, down, down between your thighs. You jolt at the feeling, whining sharply in a garbled plea for mercy, something Doppio ignores in favour of pinching your clit painfully, “I want to feel you cum for me again, cagna, want to feel you squirt your messy little cunt all over my cock, do you hear me?”

You nodded desperately at Doppio’s hissed words, your hips moving and rocking in time with the pink-haired man’s thrusts. Tears spilt down your cheeks in a continuous flood, dripping down your face to land messily on your chest, your whole body trembling with painful pleasure, “Cum for me, cara, cum for your Imperatore,” Doppio growled, both eyes a luminous green, voice so deep it left you aching as you sobbed and slammed down into Doppio’s cock, the green irises disappearing in a flash as you come around your captor’s thick cock. Doppio sighed, both hands clutching your hips as he buried his dick to the hilt, holding you still as your inner muscles milked and squirted around the fat, throbbing dick, the vice-like tightness enough to have Doppio spilling his cum in messy ropes right at the back of your cunt. You sniffled pathetically when you felt the hot, virile seed paint your insides with Doppio’s milky cum, the pink-haired man stuffing you as full as he could, cooing up at you as he forced you to remain seated, stirring his spend inside you with his half-hard cock by grinding it into your sopping pussy. When he pulled out, a trail of your and his release mixed together and sluggishly poured from between your flushed labia, coating your clit and Doppio’s spent cock in the warm fluids. You sobbed and shook as he pets your sides, horrified and in pain, and yet, you still kept your eyes squarely focused on Doppio’s face, too scared to close them.

He grinned and leaned up to kiss you sweetly, “Brava ragazza.”