a collection of oneshots of your favorite characters as your favorite fairy tale characters from my tumblr, starryevermore.
[18+ MINORS DNI, THIS INCLUDES EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT]
pairing: rumpelstiltskin!robert pronge x miller's daughter!reader
summary: in which you are the miller's daughter and robert pronge is rumpelstiltskin.
word count: 1,135
warnings?:18+ MINORS DNI, dark fic, smut, noncon, loss of virginity, forced breeding, daddy kink, spitting, slapping, name-calling (cockslut/bitch), not proofread
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ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a land far far away where a young woman made a terrible mistake. You should've never made a deal with that man. Not when the price was so steep. Not when it would ruin you. You just...never expected it to end up like this.
You were born the daughter of a miller. Your family had struggled your entire life, and it only got harder when your mama died. It was just you and your papa from there on out, trying to make it by. But the older you got, the harder it was. Your father couldn't pull his weight quite like he had before when he was younger, and now you were faced with the pressure of getting married when you both knew that you didn't have enough to pay your dowry. You'd be lucky if anyone married you.
And that's when things started to go horribly wrong.
You couldn't stop yourself. You told one eensy weensy lie about learning how to spin straw into gold, and it spiraled far out of your control. Soon, the king heard of your alleged abilities. And you were confronted with your lie.
He locked you away in the tallest tower in his castle, telling you to spin straw into gold or else you'd lose your head. And, as you laid crying in the straw, a man appeared from thin appear, saying he'd use magic to turn the straw into gold for the price of your necklace. You accepted.
Then you were locked away again, with more straw to turn to gold. And he came back, and promised to do his trick again if you gave him your ring. You accepted.
You were locked away a third time, with an entire dungeon filled with straw to turn to gold and, should you be successful, he'd marry you.. But when the man came, you had nothing left to give. Until he said he would do it for the price of your firstborn child. And, not wanting to die, you agreed.
The king was more than impressed when he came down the next morning to see the dungeon filled with gold. Proposed to you right then and there, until you let slip that it had been done by magic. You weren't sure how he thought the straw had turned to gold, but it turned out that the king had an abhorrent dislike of magic. He turned you away, saying that he would never, ever marry you.
The man who'd done the trick found you easily after that, and he didn't seem happy. Stole you, took you away to his home high in the mountains, a snarl curled across his face as he shoved you onto the floor.
"I-I can find someone else to marry, I promise! Just give me some time—"
"Don't bother. I'm going to make sure you hold up your end of the fuckin' bargain," he growled. With a quick flick of the wrist, your hands were bound behind your back, your clothes disappearing. "Gonna make sure you're so stuffed full of my cum that there's no way the seed won't take."
He climbed onto top of you, his own clothes disappearing. You whimpered as you felt his hardened cock press against your thigh. How the hell was he so big? Were all men this big? Holy shit, how was it going to fit?
"You're gonna fuckin' call me daddy," he said, his breath hot and heavy as he leaned in close to your face.
You winced, trying to move away, but he grabbed at your jaw, forcing you to look back at him. He pressed his lips against yours, his tongue easily sliding past your lips. You tried to move away again, but he was too strong, holding you in place.
Finally, finally, he pulled away, a nasty smirk on his face as looked down at you, before rearing back and a glob of spit hit your face. Your mouth fell open as you tried to protest, but your words died in your throat as he spat on you again, this time the glob landing right on your tongue. His rough, calloused hands slid down your body, groping at your breasts, squeezing and flicking at your nipples, snickering as you squealed.
"Gonna fuckin' break you in, gonna make you my fuckin' cockslut. You'd like that, wouldn't ya?"
When you didn't say anything, he removed one hand from your breast, pulling back and hitting you across the face so hard, you tasted blood.
"Did I fuckin' stutter, bitch?"
"W-Would love to be your cockslut, daddy," you stuttered, the words feeling wrong as they left your mouth.
"Damn fuckin' right you would."
He reached down, gripping his cock in one hand, running it along your folds, his smirk only growing as he felt how wet you were growing. Shit, why were you wet? Your married friends said that only happens when you liked what was happening. Did you like what was happening? How could you like this?
"W-Wait, I've never—"
He pushed the head of his cock in, moving slowly as he was met with resistant. You squealed and screamed, trying to move away from him, but he only gripped at your hips, slamming his hips against yours until he was fully sheathed inside you.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, pulling back and then slamming back in again. "Gonna take a while to break you in. Oh, but don't you worry. This fuckin' cunt is mine, and I'm gonna make sure she can take every fuckin' inch."
You sobbed, screwing your eyes shut, trying to distance yourself from what was happening. Maybe you didn't screw everything up, maybe the king married you. He'd probably be gentler. Not too gentle, your married friends said that men were rarely gentle. But it would be better than this, and you certainly wouldn't feel so bad about what was happening.
He didn't last long, growling about how your cunt was strangling him as he released his load. He pulled out, stroking his cock as he watched as his spend leaked out. Then he collected it with his finger, pushing it back in.
"Don't wanna waste a single fuckin' drop," he winked. He let go of his cock to grab at your hips, flipping you over so your ass was in the air and your face pressed against the dirty floor. "Ready for round two, bitch?"
He didn't wait for your answer.
And he did it again.
And again.
And again.
And again, what felt like a thousand times over, until he couldn't anymore, leaving you a mess on the floor while he went off to bed, the cycle to begin again in the morning.
