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#tw soft dark
onsunnyside · 1 year
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toxic!bf ari will push you to the edge and more and discourage you to safe word👀👀
damn I guess he really is a bad guy 😳:
Your endless bubblers of “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t” go ignored, silenced by the lewd noises bouncing off the bedroom walls. The bed squeaks, your fancy silk robe lying forgotten on the hotel room floor.
He hoists you against his chest with an arm around your neck, his bulging bicep digging into your airway.
He told you he was busy and wouldn’t make it to your best friend’s wedding, so you came by yourself and arrived a day before the rehearsal dinner. You don’t know how he found out about your drunken night with the best man months ago.
“You can either fucking take it, or you aren’t going tomorrow.”
Your thighs tremble, nearly giving out, “B-But I’m the maid of honour—”
“Then you can take me.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, the safe word on the tip of your tongue and he knows that. He hooks another arm around your waist, tucking your ass snug against his hips. His cock slams into your spot, fuelling that aching, throbbing flame.
“Shh, you don’t wanna say it, baby. I know you don’t.”
Shame fills your chest because he’s right, you’d take anything he gave you, even if it hurt. Still, you shake your head and weep, “please, Ari, no more—”
“But look at you,” he turns your head to the mirror across the room, “look how good you’re taking me, baby. You don’t wanna stop.”
White speckles flicker in your blurry vision and your walls clench. You don’t catch the used condom on the wrinkled bedspread, pumped full and broken.
Poor baby. You were so fucked out, you didn’t even see him take it off.
“You know how pretty you’d look walking down the aisle? Fuck—I’m gonna come just thinking of it.” He presses balls deep and grinds filthily, desperate to knock you up and show everyone who you belong to, “you walking to me, not that fucking asshole. Were you gonna cheat on me? Fuck him in this bed?”
“N-No! I’d never!” You didn’t even know Ari then, how could he accuse you of such a thing?!
“Then prove it,” he rasps, licking the tears streaming down your cheek, “and let daddy come inside you.”
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the-iceni-bitch · 1 year
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You’ll Never Go Down to the Gods Again
Part IX/X
Pairing: soft!dark (mostly soft at this point) Alpha stepbrother Ransom Drysdale x innocent!Omega stepsister reader
Summary: Shit hits the fan in the biggest way possible when your father and Linda show up.
Chapter Warnings: A/B/O, explicit language, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, domestic violence, mentions of sexual assault and abortion, abusive relationship, religious trauma, medical setting, 18+ ONLY SERIES!!
A/N: Another fucking doozy, I’m so sorry, you guys! This heavy shit is killing me, but good news is there’s only one more chapter after this one. And just remember, they’re endgame!!!! It’ll all be okay!
I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!
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Ransom heard the low buzzing of the hospital bustle suddenly get more intense and knew your family must have arrived, scrubbing his hand over his face and shaking his leg with nerves while you squeezed his hand. The way you were looking at him was only making things worse, like he would always be there for you and was the only thing that could make you happy. He had never felt like a bigger piece of shit in his entire life, he almost hoped your father would kill him.
“Yes, thank you so much for all the work you do, God bless you.” Ransom felt every muscle tense up when your father opened the door and kept chatting with the hospital staff, practically groaning when his mother flitted into the room followed by the giant bodyguards that attended your parents wherever they went. “We do so appreciate you letting our family have some privacy during this difficult time. How the hell could you let this happen?”
As soon as the door was closed your father dropped the facade, sneering at Ransom and stomping over to him while he just shook with barely contained rage and kept looking at you. He hated the man.
“You were supposed to look out for her, Ransom.” Linda’s mouth was pursed tight while she too glared at her son, huffing when he refused to turn his attention to either of them and instead kept gazing at you. “Why would you ever let that man anywhere near her?”
“It wasn’t Ransom’s fault.” You were starting to cry again, the desire to lean up and bury your face in Ransom’s chest strong but not enough to overcome the sedative they gave you. “He saved me. Please don’t fight.”
“He introduced that monster to you.” Your father snarled when Ransom continued to ignore him. “The fact that he almost killed that pervert is the only reason I think he didn’t have anything to do with this and I haven’t had him hauled out of here.”
“I want him to stay, daddy.” You tilted your head up to Ransom and choked on a sob when he squeezed your hand. “I need him.”
The door opening cut your father off when he opened his mouth again, his attempt to school his face abandoned once he saw that it was just the family doctor and nurse they had brought with them.
“The doctor here is a little too eager, she did not want to give up her chart. You might need to fill out some paperwork so she doesn’t raise a stink.” The man didn’t even acknowledge you or Ransom, just flipping through your medical records and talking to your father like you didn’t matter. “Wants to send her to therapy too, I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“We’ll find a nice Omega pastor for you to talk to, honey.” Linda ignored the way Ransom snarled when she came to stand on your other side and gave your hand a demeaning pat. “These doctors don’t understand what you need. And we’re still going to find you a mate, it will be someone who will treat you sweetly and take care of you.”
“Oh, I don’t…” you swallowed what you were about to say when your father shouldered Ransom away from you after the doctor handed him your records, chewing on your lip as he frowned at you and passed the chart to Linda. “Daddy?”
His backhand caught all of you off guard, Linda catching you when you screamed and almost fell out of the bed while Ransom grabbed your father and shoved him up against the wall with a low growl. He might’ve done more if it wasn’t for those damn bodyguards, thrown to the floor and pinned there before he even knew what was happening and left to watch helplessly while your father grabbed your cheeks and started snarling in your face.
“How much knot have you taken, you little slut?” He was shaking you violently while you started crying, ignoring the increasingly vicious growls that were coming from Ransom as he thrashed to get out of the hold he was in so he could tear the man off you. “Do you have any idea what this is gonna do to me? Were you even raped or did you just make it up when you got caught?”
“Don’t you fucking talk to her like that, you goddamn bastard.” Ransom struggled to get off the floor and groaned when he couldn’t. “I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Both of you stop, we’re in a public hospital!” Linda hissed at the two of them until they calmed down, storming to the door when someone pounded on it and popping her head out to reassure them. “Everything is fine, there’s just a lot of emotions right now, thank you so much for your concern. You two idiots quit thinking with your fucking knots, Jesus. Let him up. Sweetheart, you need to explain to us how you’re pregnant.”
“I am?” You rubbed your cheek and sniveled while Linda let you lean against her shoulder and patted your hair, looking warily at your father and trying to breathe deeply while tears continued to leak down your cheeks. “But that’s wonderful, Ransom…”
He groaned when you looked at him with watery eyes, feeling your parents’ gazes snapping onto him as he leaned against the wall and tried to avoid looking at anyone else. This was it, he didn’t know why he was surprised that he’d actually managed to get you pregnant since you’d spent your entire shared heat and rut locked together. They were going to kill him.
“You?!?” Ransom pushed your father away when he tried to get in his space, rising to his full height and sneering at the supposedly threatening look on his face. “You little asshole, I can’t believe I trusted you with her, you’re such a fucking pervert. You ruin everything.”
“Daddy, please stop!” You started crying harder when they kept posturing at each other, trying to curl in on yourself and breathing heavily while you felt panic starting to set in. “He was helping me like you wanted, we just fell in love.”
“Like I wanted? What the hell are you talking about?” Your father blinked at you then just growled as he rolled his eyes. “So you’re not just a slut, you’re a damn idiot too.”
“I’m not, why would you say that?” You were sobbing again, longing for Ransom to come hold you instead of his mother. “I was good, I did everything I was told so I could be a good mate…”
“A good mate doesn’t fuck her stepbrother.” He finally turned away from Ransom and back to you and you cowered. “Did he tell you he was helping you? He lied, you moron.”
“No, he didn’t.” You shook your head and refused to look at your father as your chest started heaving with tortured breaths. “You’re lying, why are you lying? Why are you saying these things? Ransom…”
“Bunny…” his heart broke when you looked at him like he was the only thing that mattered, and he didn’t know how he was going to live with himself. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” Ransom tried to go to you when you crumpled and started weeping uncontrollably, snarling when your father pushed him back and feeling his chest start to ache as you shook in Linda’s arms. “You said you loved me.”
“I do, I love you so much.” He knew if he could just hold you he could make it alright, but they wouldn’t let him close to you and he felt like he was going to start screaming. “I didn’t want to hurt you, please…”
“You didn’t care what you did, I can’t believe you.” Linda hushed you when you kept bawling, frowning at her son and rubbing your back when you heaved suddenly. “And now we have to take care of your little problem.”
“What do you mean?” You whimpered when Linda ignored you and looked at your father, your eyes flicking between the two of them and your chest getting even tighter. “No…no it’s a baby, my baby. A baby is a blessing, you can’t mean this.”
“Hush, do you have a sedative for her?” Your father nodded when the doctor pulled out a needle, snorting when Ransom tried to charge him and ended up pinned to the wall by his two goons. “We’re not doing this here. Linda, do your best at managing any staff that may have seen her test results so it doesn’t leak to the press. We’re taking you home.”
“No, don’t touch me.” You slapped away the doctor’s hands when he tried to restrain you, looking at Linda and your father pleadingly while she pulled out her phone to talk to one of her team members. “Daddy, please, don’t do this to me.”
“You’re not having this bastard’s pup.” Your father sighed when you pushed the doctor away again, holding your face in his hands and ignoring Ransom’s snarl as he tried to soothe you. “He lied to you, his friend hurt you, he doesn’t care about you. Do you really want to have his baby?”
“I don’t know.” You shuddered and tried to look at Ransom, whining when your father’s hold on your head prevented it and licking your lips as you struggled with yourself. “You said it’s a sin, Daddy. It’s an innocent little baby.”
“We can talk about this at home.” You missed the frustrated tic in your father’s jaw before he kissed your forehead, but Ransom saw it, and it made him try even harder to get out of the grip they had him in. “Don’t you want to go home, peanut? Away from all these strangers?”
“Mmhm.” You were still crying, and you were exhausted, so when the nurse brought you a coat and helped you out of bed you just let her, avoiding Ransom’s eyes and seating yourself in the wheelchair beside your bed. “Home.”
“What do you want us to do with him?” Ransom sneered when one of the bodyguards talked about him to your father like he wasn’t even there, wanting nothing so much as to call out to you when they started rolling you away.
“You.” Your father got right in Ransom’s face and smiled wickedly when he couldn’t do anything except grumble. “If only I could just fucking get rid of you, you little shit. But I can settle for finally getting your mother to cut you off and ruining your life. You come anywhere near my daughter again, though, you’ll spend the rest of your miserable life in a fucking jail cell.”
Ransom just sagged to the floor once they were all gone, running his hands through his hair and groaning at the mess of emotions he could feel rising in his chest. He couldn’t stop thinking about the broken look on your face when you found out he’d lied, hating himself and trying not to start crying when he considered how badly he’d fucked up.
He’d never felt so absolutely wretched in his entire life. He always knew he was a bastard, but hurting you was maybe the lowest thing he’d ever done. You were so good, and pure, and completely innocent and he’d ruined you for nothing but the chance to pull one over on your parents.
But he’d never hit you. And now he’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do, not even be with him.
He might not deserve you, but neither did they.
“Paul.” Ransom charged out of the room and found the detective leaning against the counter and chatting with the doctor who had been so kind to you. “They can’t take her.”
“She went with them, man.” Paul looked uncomfortable at the raw emotion that was written all over Ransom’s face. “I can’t do anything if she went of her own free will.”
“He hit her.” Ransom was desperate, sighing when Paul just gave him a defeated shrug and turning to the doctor. “He hit her, and called her a slut. They’re not gonna get her counseling and force her to have an abortion.”
“I fucking knew it, these goddamn religious assholes.” The doctor turned to Paul and gave him a look that would’ve cut through steel. “We can do a welfare hold or something, she’s a victim of a crime, Diskant, c’mon.”
“I just need a minute to talk to her.” Ransom scrubbed his fingers through his hair when Paul finally nodded. “And witnesses so I don’t kill that fucker.”
Maybe he should’ve been worried by the sheer number of cops and hospital staff that were suddenly swarming the parking lot, but he only saw you. He barely heard Paul telling your parents that no, they couldn’t just run off with a victim of a violent crime before her doctors released her and yes, they could have the number of his supervising officer who would tell them the same thing. All he saw was the doctor and three large Beta nurses arguing with your parents’ medical staff until one of them managed to pull you away from them and started comforting you when you began to mewl quietly.
“Bunny.” Ransom winced when you hissed at him as he knelt in front of you, fighting the urge to hold your hands in his while you cried silent tears. “Bunny, I’m sorry. I lied about my reasons but I didn’t lie about loving you, I promise. And you can hate me and never see me again, but I can’t let you go with them.”
“They’re my family.” You hated everything you were feeling right now, sick at the thought that you had betrayed all of your values for the man in front of you but also wanting nothing more than to bury your face in his neck and let him take you away. “They wouldn’t hurt me.”
“He hit you.” Ransom didn’t have time to be as gentle with you as he would have preferred, not when he heard your father starting to raise his voice as he threatened to sue the police department for impinging on his rights. “Was this the first time?”
You nodded, but you had never seen your father as angry as you had in that hospital room, or heard him say such hateful things that went against everything he had taught you. He had scared you, and it made you sick to your stomach the thought that your father could strike you for any reason.
“He’ll do it again, you know he will. He has expectations you’ll never be able to meet and he’ll take it out on you when you can’t.” He wanted to hold you and never let you go, you looked so small and helpless and the knowledge that you were carrying his pup was sending his hindbrain into overdrive. “He won’t let you keep it, he might say he will, but he and that fucking doctor will cook up some way to sneak you something then pawn you off on the first Alpha they can find who won’t care about how supposedly ‘used’ you are. Look at me, Omega.”
Ransom chuffed softly when you finally brought your eyes back to his, leaning forward until his nose was almost brushing yours and sighing when you placed your hands on his shoulders. Even after everything he had done, you felt safe with him, and only with him. You shouldn’t believe anything that came out of his mouth, but you still wanted him in spite of everything.
“I love you, Omega.” Ransom cupped your face gently and rubbed the tears from your cheek with his thumb, crooning when you purred at his touch. “You don’t have to believe me, I don’t deserve it. But I can’t let you go with them. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want, you can keep it, or not. But it’s your choice, bunny, no one else’s. Please don’t let them take you.”
“Ransom…” you felt your bottom lip quiver as you gazed at him, pulling him closer and nuzzling at his cheek until the rest of the world faded away. “I want our pup, I want you, only you, my Alpha.”
It all hit you in the chest at once; how much you needed him, how close it had come to the two of you never seeing each other again, how everyone and everything else seemed terrifying if he wasn’t going to be there with you. Something came over you that was close to panic, the thought of being apart from him painful and crippling and making you keen. You needed to make sure he couldn’t be taken from you, you thought you might die if that ever happened.
“Bunny, what are you doing?” Ransom looked at the nurse who was still holding your wheelchair awkwardly when you started nosing your way down his neck until your lips were pressed against his gland, groaning when you bared your teeth and trying to gauge what your intentions were. “Omega…”
“I want the bond, we need it.” You gazed up at him with watery eyes and he melted, cradling the back of your head and feeling himself start to tear up. “Please, I don’t want them to take me from you, my Alpha.”
“Omegamine.” Ransom nodded at you and rumbled gently when he felt your teeth dig into his gland, a thin trickle of blood running down his throat and the crimson liquid staining your lips when you pulled back to gaze at him with wide blown eyes. “They’ll never take you from me, I swear.”
You buried your hands in his hair and whined when he ducked and sank his teeth into your gland, your body arching towards him and your heart pounding against your ribs as a flood of emotions washed over you. All you could feel was relief and warmth as the bond opened up and your love for Ransom was mirrored back to you, crying when he brought his face back to yours and smashed your lips together with a deep moan.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Your father looked like his head was about to explode when he spotted the two of you, Ransom kissing you gently and letting you tuck your face into the crook of his neck while he turned to snarl at the man. “I’m going to kill you, you piece of shit. Why the fuck aren’t you arresting him? He just bonded her without consent.”
“She consented.” Ransom could’ve kissed the giant nurse he’d wished wasn’t near you just a few moments ago, nodding back at him and stroking your hair while you sniffled at having so much attention on you. “She marked him first, and was adamant that she did not want to go anywhere with you.”
“I’m her father, she doesn’t get a say.” Ransom wanted to rip the man’s heart out when he heard you whimper, he was never going to let that man within fifty feet of you for the rest of your life. “Get her away from him.”
“That’s not how things work anymore.” Paul stepped between your father and Ransom when the man growled viciously, Linda holding your father’s arm and trying to calm him down while the hospital staff began wheeling you back into the hospital while Ransom held your hand. “They’ve got a witness, and the bond takes precedence over whatever shit you’ve got going on. I suggest you go home before the doctor here decides to trespass you.”
The two of you could still hear him screaming once you were inside, but you ignored him, gazing at your mate and relaxing when you felt him sending waves of reassurance and protection through the bond. He did love you, that was all that mattered, your body succumbing to the exhaustion that had been plaguing you once they got you back into a bed and he sat next to you.
“You’re safe, bunny.” Ransom kissed your forehead and chuffed when he saw your breathing grow deep and easy, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb gazing lovingly at you while you finally slept. “And I’ll make sure you stay safe, I promise.”
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diaphorotes · 9 months
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Scolopendra
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playgrovndz · 1 month
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Repost.
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faetreides · 28 days
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summary: paul atreides x plus sized afab servant!reader
cw: power imbalance, somnophilia (dubcon in my mind as the reader wouldn’t push him away if they woke up but feel free to skip this if you could feel icked out by it), petplay (cheated again and didn’t make it explicit but it’s very petplay coded in a way), size difference (paul’s the skinny bf that would fall over if a gust of wind was strong enough), paul eats reader out, crack treated seriously vibes bc he’s so awkward 💀, ambiguous somno occasion (like how the reader fell asleep), implications of improper use of the voice but it’s weak for this paul era so reader could probably push against it, possible dune lore inaccuracies idk don’t think just vibe
wc: 1k +
block & move on if uncomfortable !!!
don’t repost, translate, or give ai my work
kinktober masterlist
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You’re having the same dream again. Paul Atreides, the duke’s son who you are tasked with looking after is the star.
He looms over you as you lie flat on your back, though in your dream you’re never in your servant’s quarters. No, the surrounding walls bear a more striking resemblance to Paul’s bedroom. You’re always groggy in the dream, which is a strange feeling to have when you usually are profoundly awake in your other dreams.
You’ve only been having this one since you arrived on Caladan from a smaller planet with no name that they took ownership of. Paul Atreides had seemed to seek you out like a moth to a flame, making a beeline for you and demanding in front of your mother that his father hire you. Even weirder was the fact that the ships belonging to the Atreides left immediately after you agreed to go with them, as if the trip had only one purpose.
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“Shh, mouse, it’s just me. Don’t wake up.” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against yours and pecking your lips.
You lie there in a daze, eyes wide and mouth agape as Paul reaches for the fastenings of your top. It’s an orange silk number he gifted you, all your clothes are. Your breaths come out in shallow pants, the disbelief that Paul Atreides would be disrobing you with the intent to bed you is overwhelming. He gives your plush curves loving squeezes as he reveals more and more skin.
Eventually you’re stark naked under him. You sluggishly try to cover yourself with your hands but Paul swiftly knocks them aside, pinning them to your sides so he can drink in the mouth watering image. You have no idea how many dreams he has had of you, ones concerning moments like these and ones about the life you’ll experience together in between. A gaggle of tiny feet playing tag around his throne, domestic mornings of blissful silence waltzing in the dining room.
“I…. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you, i swear it.” Your heart skips a beat, despite knowing very well that this is all some passing fancy. Dreams never have to see the light of day, so you can luxuriate in your delusions.
Paul leans down to shakily mouth at your collarbone, scraping his teeth against the skin and playing with your love handles. You whimper as he litters your rough skin with love bites, you open your mouth to apologize that it’s not as smooth as a noble consort’s would be, but something in the way he shoves his tongue in your mouth to silence you tells you he somehow already knows.
You poke and pull at his dark shirt, the fine black material feeling like heaven but you’d rather it cover your garments next to the bed.
Paul chuckles, nipping at your lips and pulling back to shirk his clothing off. He throws it across the room and goes back to kissing his way down your thick body. Once he reaches your stomach, he takes extra special care to dote on the rolls of skin, softly kissing and pressing his forehead against them.
“You would be a beautiful bride, you know…”
“Um… thank you, sir.” You squirm, all the attention on someone like you from someone like your employer’s son becoming too real. The Paul Atreides would sooner be lost to the sands of Arrakis than utter those words to you in the waking world, but perhaps your long harbored infatuation has leaked into your subconscious.
He smiles, as if charmed by your shyness. “You’re welcome, mouse.”
His favorite nickname for you, given to you due to your adorable scurrying around to avoid others and shy high pitched squeaks that you use instead of words. (Also because he saw you crouch in a corner and nibble on a piece of bread that you had managed to snag from the table.)
He sits back on his heels to grab your thighs, the skin bulging in between his fingers. He draws you into a slow and sensual kiss as he pushes them apart and sinks into the empty space. You squeak in shock when you feel something stiff press against your wet pussy, but Paul only shushes you in your head and you relax again.
“Mmm~” He hums, flicking his tongue against the seam of your lips and lifting himself to hover over you once more.
He winks before tightening his grip on your thighs and stretching them wide enough for him to slink down and have access to the small hole at their apex.
You jolt when he presses a soft kiss to the top of your mound. You squeak and try to close your thighs around his head but he doesn’t let you, keeping your thighs pinned to the bed and licking a flat stripe up your pussy.
“So sweet, mouse….” Paul grins and repeats the motion a few times. “I could just spread you out over the table whenever I need to eat.”
You moan at the attention, desperately wishing that you could grind against Paul’s mouth but it feels like something more than his grip is holding you back, something about the touch seeming too vivid. You shake the thought away and sink your fingers into his hair, brushing any strays away from his face as he moves to suck on your clit.
He hollows out his cheeks a bit to get better suction on your fat clit. Paul nuzzles his face as deep into you as he can possibly get, the chubby lips of your pussy sandwiching his nose. You wrench your eyes shut as your pleasure builds and builds, but a single thin finger eases into your hole right as you’re about to tumble over the edge. The intrusion isn’t painful so much as it is entirely foreign to you, the second finger goes in much easier.
The combination of eating you out and finger fucking you makes the knot in you stomach blessedly come undone. Paul swallows it all down like there’s no better substance in the grand scheme of the universe.
You hope to have this dream again tomorrow, even at the cost of being able to look Paul Atreides in the eyes.
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katkatplu · 9 months
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blueparadis · 4 months
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Yandere who is physically weaker than the other men of his age, politically powerless, restricted by the social hierarchy and who has often been bullied are like a seath of a sword. They have tasted hatred, humiliation and death like no other. Fear has long left his bones, he is used to this crude treatment of fate; has grown comfortable actually.
But when this very man is subjected to certain acts of kindness, suddenly he is experiencing fear, fear of losing you, fear of not seeing you again, fear of the unknown; and to avoid that unknown fear he will cling on to his darling like a leech: manipulate people around him to get close to her, be always the victim to receive her kindness even if that meant facing hatred, humiliation and be an abomination; just anything to get comfortable with this newfound fear.
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onsunnyside · 2 years
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³.⍭ 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐚𝐲, 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝟏/𝟐)
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𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | ghostface!ex-boyfriend!Ari Levinson x airhead/dumb!reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | soft DARK/DARK themes and elements, obsessed/controlling!Ari, possessive/obsessive behaviour, dumb!reader, size difference: 6’10!Ari, manhandling, DD/LG undertones, stalking (implied), alcohol, drugs (weed, edibles). SMUT - minors DNI, fingering (f), daddy kink, size kink, exhibitionism, dirty talk, dacryphilia, degradation, dumbification, p*ssy slapping, squirting.
𝗪/𝗖 | 4.55K
𝗔/𝗡 | welcome to my first kinktober fic ever !! i’m very excited for you all to meet mr obsessive ex ari, after all, he was just thot of last week. As always, all mistakes are my own and i hope you all enjoy !! 
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐚𝐲, 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | ˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“Hey, I heard you were going to the Halloween party tonight… I just wanted to say have fun and be safe. You know how Drysdale’s parties can be—”
“You unblocked him?” 
You jump, dropping your phone to the floor. At the doorway is your best friend, Wanda, with a black hat atop her soft auburn hair. She crosses her arms with a deep scowl, “Well? Are you going to explain yourself?”
You shrink under her harsh glare and nervously tug at the fur hem of your dress, “I got curious.” 
She stomps towards you, embodying the grumpy, grouchy witch she’s dressed as. With a swift motion, she grabs your phone off the ground and tucks it into her purse. “Do not drunk text or call your ex.” She commands as if scolding a child. “You aren’t crawling back to that dickhead, even if I have to babysit you tonight.” 
That was how plenty of people talked to you. Like you didn’t understand the simplest things and needed everything spelled out and demonstrated. 
And, you won’t lie—sometimes that demeaning exchange was what you needed, but other times it just made you feel stupid. 
This wasn’t the first time one of your friends has treated you this way, hell, you don’t remember when they treated you any other way. Ever since your breakup, they’ve kept you on a tight leash, snooping through your phone, keeping tabs on your whereabouts, and even passing you around like a baby who couldn’t take care of themself. 
The breakup was their idea—an ultimatum, more like it, “it’s us or him. We take care of you, and he—he treats you like a pet or a fucking baby.” 
You chose your closest friends over the guy who made your heart swell bigger than the moon. Even now, you still feel the ache in your chest, the gutting loss of someone you once loved and someone who made you happy. 
You’re happier now, that’s what Natasha told you every day. You’re happier without him. 
“I won’t!” You vow and reach for her bag, but she quickly steps away. “Wanda, please! I can hold my phone!” 
“No, because now I know I can’t trust you when you’re sober!” She snaps, “It’s been what? A month?” 
You wince at her volume, “Five weeks—almost six.” 
She groans in frustration, “Ugh, c’mon! He was always breathing down your neck and he never let you go out with us unless he was there. How could we have proper fun with a scary giant like him?”
Ari was on the rugby team, a D1 player, whatever that meant, you assumed it meant he was one of the best. He was tall and brawny, just over 6’10” with broad shoulders and a thick chest that nearly burst through all his button-ups. His firm arms were bigger than your head and his hand dwarfed yours. He used to wrap his bicep around your neck and tug you into him to kiss your cheeks—one of his love languages was touch. And his thighs, you mourned all the times you napped on his lap, rubbing your cheek into the coarse hair of his muscular flesh. 
He was so much bigger than most people on campus. His impenetrable presence towered over them. Oftentimes he’d manhandle you or carry you around. You thought it was cute when he had to duck through doorways sometimes. 
The first time he ever came to your dorm room, he didn’t even try to climb to your bed on the upper bunk. 
“You know, if we start dating, you’ll have to do some remodelling.” He smirked and tugged you to the edge of the mattress by your ankle, “Don’t you want me in your bed too, bunny?”
After a week of begging your roommate to rearrange the room, you both came to a compromise. Now, you were on the bottom bunk and she moved to the top. 
“You could sit here now!” You presented your clean, made bed with your dozens of stuffies all neatly sitting atop the coral covers. “Watch your head but just in case, I put a little cushion too.” 
Ari was popular and well-liked, he came from a good, wealthy family who hosted charity auctions and funded the college. His reputation was spotless, he was one of the top students, and he had many friends and admirers. If you two went out to dinner, it was guaranteed that someone would strike up a conversation. You didn’t care, you loved hearing Ari’s voice. 
You also loved when he introduced you as his girlfriend, always kissing your hand after saying your name in that creamy voice of his. 
“He isn’t scary… just intimidating.” You shyly countered, twiddling your fingers, “And he was there because I get nervous without him.”
“That’s exactly what we mean. You have to be your own person. Exist without needing someone to tell you what to do! Being so dependent on someone, much less some asshole like him, isn’t good for you.”
But Ari always knew what was good for you. 
You were never the brightest star, always fumbling and forgetful, ditzy and daydreaming every second of the day. Your grades not only proved how easily you got distracted but also your lack of drive and self-discipline. 
All your life you’ve flounced and fleeted, lived your days so blissfully ignorant to anything beyond the surface. That cluelessness made you vulnerable to any monster to sink their teeth into. It painted a self-portrait of your untouched, innocent soul, coloured like white chiffon. 
“I didn’t mind…” 
“You didn’t notice.” She corrects. “But he did. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he liked that you were—” stupid, it goes unsaid, “—oblivious. It made you easy, hun. That’s why he so effortlessly controlled you.” 
Your friends could try as they might, but it will never change the fact that Ari made you feel safe, secure and loved. And without him, you’re lying back on that heap of sticky disarray without a hint of how to take care of yourself. 
“We’re trying to protect you, don’t you understand that?” Wanda coaxes, tilting your chin up with her knuckle. The corners of her red lips turn down to a frown, “We care about you, we want what’s best for you and you know that Ari is far from that.” She wipes your cheek, and only then do you notice you’re crying. 
You heard the first breakup was the hardest, but you never expected it to be like this. You’re lost and alone. Abandoned in the middle of a bustling city, it was blinding, overcrowded and so loud that you had to cover your eyes and ears just for relief. You’re overwhelmed and disorientated, nothing made sense, no matter how hard you try to decipher it. 
There was no direction without him. 
You roughly wipe your nose and meet your reflection. Aside from the fresh tears and glossy pout, your skin glistened from the glitter on your eyelids and cheekbones—bunnies aren’t shimmery, Maria said, but you thought it was cute anyway. And you loved sparkles, that’s why Ari got you so much jewelry. 
Jewelry that your friends got rid of. You grieve for the gold ‘A’ initial charm, either sitting in the city dump or in a hidden box that you’ll never find. They’re all gone, just like his hoodies and sweatpants, and your beloved Hazel, the softest stuffie you’ve ever owned. You miss his weighted body covered in beige fur, floppy ears and lifeless but sweet eyes. 
“I had to reward you for doing so well on that test.” That was a stretch, you got a ‘C+’ but that was better than the ‘D-’ you got last time. Ari beamed proudly when you buried your nose in the stuffie, cutely kicking your feet in happiness. “You take care of him, bunny, he’s our little baby, okay?”
Ari pampered you, took you on dates and walked you to class every day. You thought he treated you like a princess, not a pet. 
Ari wasn’t that bad. To you, he was never bad. 
Wanda fixes your bunny ears and rubs your shoulders, a pitiful smile on her face. “C’mon, let’s fix your makeup before we go.” 
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“So, he treated you like a pet?” One of your friends asked. 
“…He just made sure I was well taken care of.”
“Didn’t he just plop you in front of the television while he did his own thing?” 
Yes, although his academic talents seemed natural, Ari was very serious about school and would spend hours at his desk, studying or perfecting assignments. Sometimes he even did your homework, “Dummy bunny, you just sit there while I take care of this, okay?”
You vaguely recall the times he would tell you to not make a peep until he spoke first, just to keep your glossy lips shut until he addressed you. To you, it was being respectful of his quiet time and letting him set boundaries. Your friends thought it was toxic and controlling.
“You’re a human being, not his pretty little pet to do whatever he says.”
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The mansion is packed when you and your friends arrive fashionably late. The bunch of you are clad in costumes ranging from a bright red devil to a dead cheerleader to a dark and mysterious witch. Unfortunately, you stuck out like a sore thumb with your egg-filled basket, sheer dress, and white fluffy ears and matching tail. You were the only one not in classic Halloween attire. 
You’re grateful Natasha suggested fake eggs instead of real ones. Although you wanted the joy of painting real Easter eggs, you’ve already dropped a few on the way to the party. You dreaded the mess and smell if they were real instead of just empty plastic. 
You suppose they were right, you didn’t think things through all the time. 
The whole property is decked out, from the jack o'lanterns on the porch and the ‘Enter If You Dare’ sign in the front yard. Inside the big house, strobe lights flashed across the room in red, blue and green, colouring the other guests in neon shades. The walls were covered in bat and spider decals, little white ghosts hung from the banisters, and fake spider webs occupied the ceiling corners. 
It doesn’t take long for your friends to get the night started. After getting drinks from a frat boy dressed as an ice cream man, the group of you migrated to the energetic dance floor in the basement. 
The music was louder and the lights were brighter, blinding you every time they found your eyes. As the colour sparks across the walls, inescapable memories flash through your brain. 
The last time you were at a party, it was to celebrate another win by the rugby team and being the girlfriend of their best player, you had to dress for the role. You squeezed into your old cheer uniform and cheekily stitched each letter of ‘LEVINSON’ on the back. Oh, Ari loved when you wore his name. If he could, he’d have you clad in his jersey every damn day.  
This wasn’t a party hosted by his fraternity, your friends made sure of that, but a few of his friends were in attendance. You’ve caught glimpses of their tall and burly figures but didn’t dare to say hello. It would be too awkward. 
What if he’s here too? 
One by one, your friends disappear and you're left in the middle of the dance floor with your basket half empty. The eggs were going to be impossible to find, so you didn’t try. After weaving through the sweaty, grinding bodies, you returned to the less packed kitchen. 
With your ears still pounding, you squint at the bottles, reading each name and smelling a few. Eventually, you give up and dumbly mix whatever looks good. Judging books by their covers never got you far, but it got you something, and you wanted to have fun tonight. Party, dance, get drunk and have fun.
A shadow appears next to you, crowding you against the counter with its mass and height. When you turn around, a radiant smile explodes on your face. “Hey, Brian!”
“It’s Bryce.” The light-haired man corrects with a quirk of his lips. “Forget me already?”
Your eyes widen, “Oops, sorry! No, how could I forget the world’s best lab partner?” You set aside your cup and hug him tightly, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
“I just got here, I had to pick up some brownies that Jensen made.” He nods to the spread of snacks and punch. Like the rest of the house, the table was Halloween-themed with eyeball cake pops, blood-red punch, and the cutest spooky cupcakes. The surface was also decorated with old lanterns, fake candles and skulls. “You want to try?”
You shy away. The last time you tried Jensen’s brownies, you jumped Ari’s bones right in front of his friends, the baker himself included! You hadn’t felt like that before, that needy, desperate and wet. 
To this day, you’re still haunted by the memories of Ari slipping his hand up your tiny skirt and getting you off with just a few fingers. With his friends packed into the frat house living room, their eyes drawn to the sports game on the television, either ignoring or not noticing your quiet whimpers and the dull motions under the blanket on your lap. 
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“Dumb little bunny, are you gonna come in front of daddy’s friends?” He whispers against your ear, locking you tightly in his lap and stuffing your soppy core with two thick fingers, “I want you to make a stupid mess in your pretty panties, cream yourself like a pathetic baby so daddy could clean you up later.”  
You shake your head, grasping his wrist under the blanket. 
Ari cruelly takes that as a sign to speed up his pumps, rubbing your swollen clit with the heel of his palm. Your wetness smears down your slit, soaking your skimpy thong and the cushion of the couch. Between the pauses of the sports game, you can hear the horrifying sticky sounds from between your trembling thighs. 
“Isn’t this what you wanted, bunny? Daddy’s just helping you out. Poor girl gets all wet with just a lil weed.” 
You can still taste the chocolatey goodness. How shameful was it that you’d have another if he asked?
He kicks your legs apart and gets rougher, making you fall back onto his chest with a gasp, “Think I can fit another, baby? Or is your tight pussy still too little for me?” 
“T-Too small, daddy—not gonna fit.” You shakily reply, knowing all too well how he has to force himself into your tight walls. The thought of his girth stuffing your core has a wave of arousal pooling around his thrusting fingers, and your stomach tightening. 
He groans lowly, “Mhm, but you want me to try. Dumb little whore loves being filled to the brim, huh?” His ring finger slides alongside the other two, stretching your weepy hole as a burning sensation flows through you. “You love when I just pin you down and force you to take it. My bunny fuckin’ loves being used.” His bicep keeps you against his warm, muscled body, only reminding you how trapped you are, entirely helpless and vulnerable to his sinful actions. 
He was right, you loved it. 
A choked whine escapes your sealed lips, miraculously not catching the attention of the other guys. Your hips grind against his hand, practically riding his fingers as you topple over. You slap a hand over your mouth, silencing your moan as your juices spurt from your pussy. 
“Good girl, that’s it, use daddy’s fingers.” He spears into you relentlessly, hitting that rough patch with his long fingers and rubbing your clit with his palm. The lewd noises grow in volume, he doesn’t give a shit if his friends notice—he wants them to. He wants them to know you’re his and only his. “Cream yourself, ya little dummy. Make a mess in front of all my friends—let ‘em know what a filthy slut you are for daddy.” 
Your orgasm rushes down your leg, soaking his pants and the material of your leg warmers, and adds to the disgraceful puddle on the floor. Tears stream down your hot cheeks and your mind goes blank, drool dripping from your chin dumbly. Ari pulls away with a mean pinch to your clit and you spasm in his hold, uneven breaths shaking your frame. 
He growls and slaps your cunt, unable to resist rubbing your puffy button. “Fuck, I should’ve had you try those brownies earlier, could’ve gave this greedy little cunt what it needs.” 
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It was safe to say if you wanted a brownie, you wouldn’t spend the night alone. 
“I don’t know… It isn’t even midnight yet.”
“C’mon! It’s a new recipe, similar to his usual stuff but not as strong. You’ll be fine, sweetheart.” Bryce tugs you to the table with a firm grip on your hand. “I’ll get you a piece, do you like corners or middles?”
You don’t want to tell him about the problem from the last time. Who knows what he’d think of you? 
Those worries didn’t only stem from embarrassment, but you grew up in a household where the topic of sex was forbidden. Everything you learnt was from your past boyfriends, mainly Ari since he was your first serious relationship. Openness about the subject was still difficult, regardless of the escapades you and your ex have shared.
“If you have one, I’ll have one too.” Bryce urges, tilting his head like a puppy. “That way neither of us will be alone. Does that seem like a fair bargain, m’lady?” He bows. 
Your gaze drops to his thin white shirt, hanging on by two bottom buttons and tucked into the thick belt of his jeans. Sweat glistens on his pale, taut skin, highlighting the dips of his abs. Your grip on the Easter basket tightens as your eyes follow the trail of hair from his chest to his belly button. 
Bryce takes advantage of your glazed expression and holds a square to your mouth, cooing softly, “Open up, little bunny.” You make a confused sound and he uses that opportunity to feed you the brownie and tilt your chin, making you take a big chunk of the laced treat. “There we go, a nice big bite for me.” 
He’s so close you can count every freckle on his clean-shaven face. Bryce has always been pretty, but with his hair slightly longer and a gold crown atop his head, he’s even prettier. 
“So well behaved. Does it taste good?”
You nod wordlessly, not realizing he’s feeding you the rest of the brownie until he turns back to the tray. The rich, chocolate flavour spreads along your tastebuds, it’s gooey and moist, almost making you forget about the other ingredient. 
Bryce pops a whole square into his mouth and chews slowly. “Mhm, way better than his last batch.” He washes it down with a sip from a childishly cute monster-themed solo cup. “We should wait a bit before having more.” 
“I’ve never had more than one.”
“Then you’re in for a night, bunny.” He flashes a charming smile, all too fitting for his costume. “You’ve got some chocolate, let me get it for you.” He pinches your chin between his fingers and licks his other thumb, then delicately wipes the corner of your lips, as a mother would to a child. The single action brings warmth to your cheeks that only grows hotter when Bryce sucks the same digit into his mouth, his white teeth digging into his knuckle. “Always such a messy girl, I remember how stained your lab coat was just after the first semester.” 
“That class was so hard—I don’t think I learnt a thing!” 
Of course you didn’t, what could fit in your head other than air?
He doesn’t say that obviously, but he knows it’s true. Everyone on campus knew you were just a ditzy, clueless airhead with an irresistibly sweet personality. Nothing up there but you were plenty to look at with all your sundresses, mini skirts and those fucking tight shirts that you never wore a bra underneath. 
You didn’t even know you were collecting people’s hearts like trading cards. 
“You look great!” He says instead, reaching out to touch your soft ears. “Give me a spin, sweetheart.” 
You giggle and twirl around, showing off your puffy tail and almost tripping over yourself. “Thanks! My friends thought being the Easter bunny was dumb, but I’ve had this nightie forever and wanted to finally wear it—that’s why it’s a little small.” You whisper, gesturing to your breasts. 
If you jumped too suddenly, they’d surely spill out and Bryce mmediately thinks of ways to make you hop like a real bunny. “It isn’t dumb, I think you’ve got the best costume here.” 
You preen under his praise, smiling so dumbly that you don’t notice his eyes locking on your exposed cleavage. Usually, you’re wearing some fresh hickeys or marks from your boyfriend, all while he wears you on his arm like a shiny bracelet. Levinson knew he had the hottest piece of ass on campus, and he made sure everyone knew you were claimed, like a damn slab of meat. 
Bryce hated him but he can’t be upset about that, because he’d treat you the same way. 
“I like yours too. You’re the first and only prince I’ve seen all night.” 
“Yeah? What’s your boyfriend dressed as?” He cuts to the chase, “I haven’t seen him yet, and you two are usually inseparable.” More like he never let you get more than three feet away. 
Your shoulders go slack and if your ears were real, they’d surely do the same. “oh, we broke up…”
Bryce blinks in surprise, caught off guard. A rush of glee fills his body, but he hides it with faux concern, “What? When?” Just like that, your eyes start watering again—and he can’t help but admire how pretty you look when you cry. “Did he break your heart, baby?”
You gnaw on your bottom lip, swallowing the lump in your throat, “No, I-I dumped him.”
“Aw, I’m sorry.” He isn’t, not one bit. “Do you want to talk about it outside?” 
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Ari is fucking seething. 
Boiling with rage to the point where steam nearly blows from his ears. Under his black hooded robe, his skin is set ablaze as he watches you stumble after the brunet. You’re facing down but his sharp gaze follows those white and pink ears.  
He glances at his phone, the delivered sign right under the various text messages sent to you all night. He was checking up on you, making sure you were okay and not getting into trouble. 
Just because you were broken up didn’t mean he could instantly stop caring about you—that’s what he told his friends who were still wondering why he was so hung up on you. 
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“You could get any other girl, man.” Steve rubs his back, the locker room emptier now that most of the team had left. 
The rugby team won the game, no surprise there, but while the rest of the guys celebrate the victory, Ari can’t relax. He can barely sit still. The image of the empty seat of the very first row is burned on the inside of his eyelids, patronizing him. 
“But, none of them are her.” Curtis dramatically sighs from down the aisle, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. “What? You think just because she was your girl, that I can’t find her hot?”
“The decent thing to do would be to not say it out loud, asshole.” 
“Too bad it’s hard to forget a piece of ass like that.” Another unhelpful voice speaks up as a dripping wet brunet emerges from the showers, his long hair still soaked. “I can’t imagine what it’s like having her then losing her.”
“I didn’t lose her.” Ari huffs, tossing aside his phone so he didn’t have to look at the painful one-sided conversations. 
“Well, you had her and now you don’t.” Curtis deadpanned. “Sounds like losing her to me.” Bucky finishes with a snort. 
Steve, the only one with a heart, tells them to shut up. He hated seeing his childhood best friend so upset. “Have you tried going to her dorm?”
Every damn day. “She’s never there. Always out with her fuckin’ friends. Bunch of dumb sluts, all of them.” 
“Your precious bunny included?”
Ari rolls his eyes. “She’s got no brains anyway.” 
Bucky laughs, drying his hair with a towel. “You know, it wasn’t her choice. They all pushed her to dump you.” Oh, Ari knows that. 
“So technically, she isn’t to blame.” Steve agrees, he tucks his blond hair into a baseball cap. “I knew she wouldn’t make that decision by herself.” 
“‘cause she’s stupid?” Curtis smugly wonders, “Because we know that already.” 
“No, because she loved him.” 
Loved—that isn’t right. You still love him. You had to. You were his sweet girl, his dumb baby, his bunny. He couldn’t fathom you just being you. Someone entirely detached from him, free of his authority and influence. 
That kind of independence was high over your head and you’d never reach it no matter how hard you tried. You could climb skyscrapers or trees that kiss the clouds, but it’ll never be enough. You needed him to lift you up and get you there, and fill up your empty little head with a false sense of self-rule. 
You should be thankful for him and kiss the ground he walks on, not break his heart over text. 
You’d be nothing without him in the same way he was nothing without you.  
After you met him, your perceptions and ideas, desires and fears were no longer your own. He fixed the little puzzle in your head, he did all the thinking and decision-making since you clearly couldn’t do it by yourself. 
He was electric and charismatic, and you were pure and gullible. 
The itty bitty seedling in a field of mature, vibrant flowers. Everyone crowded over you, stealing the golden rays and fresh breeze—that was until Ari came along and tucked you into an ivory pot, and took you home. 
He gave you everything you needed and then some, always putting your well-being above his own. He watered you, raised you towards the sun and made you into his slice of heaven. He made it so you couldn’t grow and flourish without him. 
Then, you took his heart and stomped on it like a bug. 
“She’s just an airhead who does whatever people tell her.” Curtis affirms, “Ain’t nothing up there but pixie dust and cotton candy.” 
Ari can’t deny that. He knows all too well about your naive obedience to orders and your wide-eyed, credulous view of the world. You were always focusing on the bright side, always holding other people’s opinions above your own—that’s what made it so easy to drill the hunger for his acceptance into your head. 
Bucky hums, “If anything, you’ve got to get even with her friends. If they’re out of the picture, who do you think she’ll run back to?”
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𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: hehe I think i'm in my sleazy daddy and airhead!reader era. i bet you aren't ready for ari fucking reader in mating press.
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! see you on oct. 6 for part two !!
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
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buckets-and-trees · 6 months
Note
Sweet, sweet Aspen. You have been a very bad girl. This soft!dark guy, your boss, caught you doing something wrong—something that could easily get you fired—but he decided maybe, jussst maybe, he should keep your indiscretion, and your resulting punishment, between the two of you. After all, he’s been dreaming about filling you with his cock for ages 😏
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(I picked this GIF because it looks like he’s saying, “On your knees.” lolll)
well, dearly beloved sister ho, you know we were thirsting over a particularly ... inspiring gif.
I don't think you anticipated your ask to spawn THIS, but... here we are! THANKS FOR POPPING MY ANDY CHERRY!
Fandom: Chris Evans Characters Title: I'm Your Man Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 3k
Summary: You've spent weeks working to pull off the perfect night for Andy Barber's big charity event. A rush job, but you worked meticulously and diligently over six weeks to coordinate the biggest event of your career to date. You weren't the only one with a plan for the night.
Content Warnings: extortion, explicit smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT, spitting, oral - male receiving, spanking, vaginal intercourse, breeding kink, unprotected sex
Logistical Notes: A NAUGHTY submission @the-slumberparty's Naughty or Nice challenge. Prompts incorporated are in bold.
Additional Notes: I didn't want to write a summary. There's only enough plot here to smut you up. Dividers by @rookthornesartistry and @firefly-graphics.
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You sit up straight when you hear the door to Andy’s home office open behind you.
“Thank you for waiting for me,” he says as he strides across the room and takes a seat in the leather executive desk chair.
“Yes, of course, Mr. Barber,” you reply. Every part of your body is tired – tired in a good way from the long day of work – so you were eager to get home, soak in your tiny tub, and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend, but it hadn’t been an incredible inconvenience when he’d asked if he could speak with you before you left.
“Tonight was exquisite, you did well,” he doles out the praise, and you try to quell the blooming in your chest. In the six weeks working with Andy Barber to plan the charity event you’d just executed for his foundation you had seen that he wasn’t one to casually compliment, hard to impress. You had taken more and more satisfaction out of each meeting, email, or text exchange as you consulted and then presented him with options for the event when he had fewer and fewer notes, knowing you had cracked his taste and gained his approval. He’d been your toughest client to date, but by far one of the most rewarding as he had excellent taste.
“Nearly perfect,” he adds.
Your smile falters ever so slightly, and suddenly your chest floods with a chill. “Nearly perfect? I’m sorry, sir, what didn’t live up to your expectations?”
This was far from your first event, you had built an incredible portfolio over the years, and you knew you were finally ascending to be one of the best event coordinators on the eastern seaboard – you had received an email request from a goddamn Vanderbilt to plan a wedding for them in a year and a half that you were going to respond to and accept in the morning. You weren’t arrogant, but you’d worked damn hard and knew you were good.
“You.”
Your breath catches in your throat. “I – what?”
“Only one misstep tonight.”
Your brain flies back through the evening, reviewing every moment, raking through trying to determine what you could have possibly missed.
“I’m very particular about what belongs to me, and I cannot abide theft.”
Your jaw drops.
“Empty your bag.”
Now your whole body is buzzing with incredulity. You shake your head.
“I know what’s in there.”
You almost didn’t take this job when it landed in your lap. He was the reason you knew you should have said no. There were whispers about his reputation, his real businesses. But you took the initial consultation because the pitch was more money than you’d made over the last three years. Then when you’d met him, he’d been so normal, so nice, maybe a little charming, and up until this moment you had convinced yourself there was no way any of those rumors had been right.
But before you even put your hand in your bag, you knew you were wrong to have thought he wasn't all those awful things.
Not one, not two, but three Rolex watches nestled in the bottom of the main pocket. Watches you'd never seen - wouldn't even have known where to find them.
You scoop them out and drop them on his desk, eyes burning with tears. “Why?”
“Yes, why? I was already giving you a fat paycheck. What a shame when I had just given your name to the Vanderbilts’ social secretary for their son’s wedding a few days ago, I’ll have to reach out and let them know.”
“No,” you breathe.
“I’ll have to discreetly let everyone in my network know it’s better not to invite someone in their home with such light fingers.”
Your breath hitches and your hand flies to your mouth to stifle an almost sob, trying to hold back the onset of tears. “Andy, no, please.”
His smile softens. “There we are,” he coos, “you finally called me Andy like I’ve told you to so many times.”
He leans forward resting his arms on his desk.
“Now, if you go upstairs, be a good girl, put on what I left for you in my room, and wait for me, maybe I can make all of this little misunderstanding go away.”
His steel blue eyes are hard, they demand an answer.
You cock your chin up wishing you could say no, wishing you could even scowl at him, but aside from the heat and hurt in your eyes, you know you can’t do anything more without risking further ruin, so ultimately you let your chin drop and nod, resigned to the impossible power this man wields.
“Now we’re back on track for a perfect night, sweetheart. I’ll be up soon.”
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You don’t know how long he makes you wait, using the promise of soon as another show of his power, but long enough that your knees hurt from sitting back on your heels in a submissive, kneeling position with your head lowered, hands folded in your lap, and back to the door as the card in the white box left for you had instructed.
Also in the box had been a set of exquisite black lace and silk balconette bra and cheeky underwear. That they fit you like a glove had been both humiliating and alluring.
Even though Andy was the reason you almost said no to the job, even though he was the humiliating reason you were in this position – extorted into a nearly naked state, no question of what was to come – he was also the reason you took the job.
Dread pooled in your stomach, but along with the dread and humiliation, there were rivulets of shameful desire.
You had taken the job for the money and for how quietly charming he had been. He had never outright flirted with you, but he always left you with the question of whether he was. You worked hard for him because it felt good to win his approval. He praised you and you had preened under his intense blue eyes every time. You had forced yourself to keep everything professional.
All for nothing since you were in the farthest position of professional now.
When you finally hear him enter the room, your sit up straight again.
He tsks and says, “Head down, sweetheart.”
Andy comes around to stand in front of you. You see his perfectly polished shoes, the perfectly tailored trousers. His hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. He runs his thumb over your lips, circling them.
“Open your mouth,” he says.
You do.
He leans closer, then spits in your mouth, and you blink in surprise, a surge of humiliation running through you, but his grip on your jaw is powerful, so you don’t move away.
“Close your mouth but don’t swallow.”
He moves back from you then, and he begins to silently undress. He had already taken off his jacket, but he doesn’t hurry as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, the buttons down his chest, and then shrugs it off his shoulders. He places it nicely on a plush armchair on the side of the room. Next he sits on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes and socks.
The way he doesn’t watch you but does all of this in your line of vision, knowing you have to watch, is another move meant to communicate who is in control of this situation. Still holding his saliva on your tongue is starting to become uncomfortable. Your instinct is to swallow, but you don’t know what disobedience may mean with Andy, so you fight the urge, not wanting to tempt any more of his darkness.
He stands and takes the shoes and socks to a large closet off to the side of the room, and when he returns, he stands directly in front of you again, takes your jaw in his hands again.
“Show me,” he says.
Your eyes watch his face you open your mouth, showing him the pool of saliva.
“Good fucking girl,” he murmurs. You hate the small bloom in your chest those words immediately invoke again. He spits into your mouth for a second time, then with a caress that is too tender he urges you to close your mouth. “Swallow.”
You do.
Andy unbuckles his belt, unbuttons the top of his fly, then unzips and pushes down the waist of his trousers with his briefs, and reveals his hard cock for you.
He’s big.
You had gotten yourself off to the thought of him a few of times late at night alone in your bed, most recently a few days ago, and you hated that you had since you were now here like this, forced on your knees in front of him.
Your core is pulsing with heat at the sight of him though – bigger than you had fantasized, and bigger than any man you’ve been with previously. You know he’ll fill you in a way that will ruin you for other men. You want and dread it.
“Take me in your mouth, sweetheart,” he commands.
Instead of forcing his cock into your mouth, this is more possessive, having you submit yourself to pleasing him of your own accord. You know every way he’s manipulating you.
“If I have to tell you one more time,” he trails off, leaving the end open for your imagination.
You plant one hand softly on his hip and wrap your other hand around his shaft, leaning forward to take him in your mouth. As you push forward, he groans. He won’t hold back when he’s pleased with you – he never has, he knows it affects you. His hands go to either side of your head. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”
You do as he says, sucking him, bobbing up and down his length, and for a while he lets you control the speed and the depth, but his hands let you know he can and will control this when he wants to. After the first couple of minutes, he makes this clear when you push back to take a breath and wipe the mix of your spit and his pre-cum dripping out of your mouth and his hands firmly prevent you from moving off him. Instead, he pushes you down slowly – more slowly than you had been pumping – and doesn’t stop until your nose hits his lower abdomen. You try to push against his hips, and he pushes his hips forward with you still anchored on his dick. Your eyes well up.
“So pretty,” he says, “imagined you like this, but you’re more gorgeous than I thought you would be.”
Something in your chest melts. You wish he wouldn’t say things like that. It makes you weaker – weaker for him. He pulls back just an inch or two, then pushes his length into your throat again.
“That’s it, sweetheart, my perfect fucking girl.”
You whimper, and the tears spill over.
His right hand moves away from your face and around behind him. He’s quick, and when you can see his hand again, it’s to discover he’s taken his phone out of his back pocket. He takes photos of you, angling the phone a few different ways. Then he tosses the phone onto the chair where he’d laid his shirt.
Then he resumes his small, concentrated rutting, only easing out just enough to make the thrust back in worth it for him. As he does, he groans, swears, wipes tears from your cheeks, and the moment before it’s too much, he finally pulls you off him.
You fall forward, gasping for deep lungfuls of air, but he’s already putting a hand under your arm and hauling you up.
“Get on the bed,” he instructs, man handling you with surprising ease, doing most of the work your weak and aching legs can’t do to hoist you up onto his Alaskan king bed.
He’s immediately up as well and behind you, the last of his clothing stripped off. His fingers quickly undo the clasp of your bra and pull it off your shoulders and toss it away. He pushes you forward, toppling you down to the mattress. He slaps your ass, and you gasp and jerk. He brings his hand down on your round flesh again, with another sting, but the second one has you moan, and he lets out a satisfied, “Yes,” before giving you a third slap, the hardest, and you moan again, but this one more guttural, and you’d be mortified if you weren’t shocked over the way it translated to pleasure so quickly to your brain.
Then he yanks the lacy underwear roughly down and off your legs, tossing it away as well. He pushes between your legs behind you, splitting your legs open, and his fingers seek your cunt.
He hums in approval, “So wet for me. Ready for me.”
You huff and pant.
He leans over your back, pressing you down into the mattress. “Are you eager for me?”
“Andy,” you whine.
“Say it and I’ll fuck you good, sweetheart.”
You don’t want to. You bury your face in the covers.
He slaps your ass again, and you yelp.
“Admit you want me to fuck you.”
Another slap.
Another.
“Yes,” you finally concede.
“To breed you.”
You gasp, but he’s already hauling you further up the bed, and he drapes himself over your back, arms caging you in on either side of your body. His legs push yours apart as he leans down to press kisses over your shoulder blades, at the base of your neck, along your spine. He uses one hand to guide the thick head of his cock to your leaking entrance. He doesn’t care to stretch you. “Take me in your cunt, sweetheart, it’s mine.”
The only mercy is that he slots himself in slowly.
You press your hands up against the headboard and concentrate on taking deep breaths, on trying to relax your walls completely, because he’s entering you, in you, filling you, unrelenting invasion and it’s pleasure and pain and too much and not enough because every moment of more fullness is exquisite and you can’t even think about holding back the sound he’s pushing out from your diaphragm, up your throat, and out of your mouth, because that’s how it feels as he's filling you.
Once’s he’s fully inside of you, he presses his mouth right next to your ear. “I’m going to fill this pussy with my seed.” He anchors one hand on your hips, then begins pull out, only so he can start thrusting back in. “I want everyone to know who you belong to.”
You’ve never had an orgasm only from vaginal penetration, but the way he fills you as he fucks you, and at this angle, making you almost forget to keep breathing, you wonder if this is how you’ll go, strung out as his cock punishes you with the pleasure, but then his hand works around beneath you and his fingers quickly find your swollen and aching clit. You cry out, and one of your hands reaches back to cling to him, fingers clutching into his hair. He nips at your neck, chuckling darkly.
“My pretty girl, my good girl, taking my cock so well, you close?”
An immediate, “Uh huh,” is all you can manage.
“Then let go,” he commands, pinching your clit harshly.
You see stars, and you cry out for him.
Hearing you scream his name and feeling you clench around him is all he needs, and he pumps his cum into you, saying more dirty, filthy, possessive things, but you don’t know what the words are, because you’re completely lost to coherency.
He sinks his full weight on top of you when he’s completely spent.
Both of you are silent while you come down, heartrates returning to normal.
You wait for him to say whatever he’s going to torment you with next, but he doesn’t speak.
After more long moments, he finally pushes up enough to turn you from your front to your back. He cups your jaw again and strokes his thumb over your cheek. Your breath hitches at the intimate gesture in the aftermath.
“Aw, why are you crying now, sweetheart?”
No, you didn’t want more tears, and not these - the soft tears. You try to look away, but he forces your face back to look at him.
“I would have slept with you if you’d asked, Andy, why did you have to do it like this?”
“Because this is so much more than that, sweetheart. I didn’t want to just sleep with you, and I needed you to know from here on out that you’re mine. I own you. I’m very particular about what belongs to me. I didn’t want you to have any illusion that there’s a choice here.”
He brushes the tears off your cheek.
“I’ll have my men move your things here in the morning, and we’ll elope in a few weeks. I’m closing the deal on a resort in Lake Como, doesn’t that sound perfect? We’ll tie the knot and then spend our honeymoon there – we can stay all summer if you want.”
You hesitate.
“No one else is gonna take care of you like I do. Now I asked you, ‘doesn’t that sound perfect?’”
“Yes, Andy,” you whisper.
“Of course, it does.” He finally kisses you – and it’s dangerously soft. Warm lips engulfing yours, insistent, sucking your bottom lip between his. You whimper, and he licks his tongue into your mouth, lapping you up. He rolls over with you, putting him back on the mattress with you on his chest. He holds you pressed to him with one hand, the other hand securing your head so you can’t escape his kiss until he’s done kissing you.
It isn’t until you think you might pass out from how breathless you are that he finally breaks off the kiss. He shifts his pelvis up against you, his cock hardening again. “And I was serious about you carrying my child. But first you’ll ride my face until I’ve made you cry for a good reason, and then I’ll fill you up with more of my seed. You’re not leaving this bed the rest of the weekend.”
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↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
ARE YOU OKAY? AM I? DO WE EVEN CARE IF WE'RE OKAY?
read: -> THE MORNING AFTER
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Text
stepdad!eddie munson x innocent(ish)!obsessed!reader (in a different like ‘universe’ than innocent!reader x stepdad!obsessed!eddie munson kinda)--this is just an introduction to just stepdad!eddie in general.
CW: stepcest, angst, age gap (eddies in his thirties, reader’s 18 (or whatever age you are most comfy with)), carmechanic!eddie munson (not a CW but its okay hehe), crybaby!reader, hints of ddlg, reader calls eddie “daddy”, kinda obsessed!stepdad!eddie, kind of manipulative!reader, crying, kissing, talk of female!masturbation
this is stepdad!eddie munson x innocent(ish)!obsessed!crybaby!reader’s first ‘fight’ </33
note: i kinda dont like this but i really wanted to finish thissss enjoy ! :3
₊‧   ˖ ࣪  ་ 🐇 ໒꒱
to start, let’s talk about how stepdad!eddie spoils you.
you get everything and anything you want.
you don’t even have to ask, and eddie’s spoiling you constantly. he goes to the store on the way home from work and buys you some sort of stuffed animal to add to your insane collection.
he can’t help it!
you’re just so innocent and sweet and kind, and all he wants to do is make his baby happy.
anytime that sweet little voice of yours asked him for a favor, he would immediately comply.
however, he doesn’t know that late at night you grind your bare, aching pussy on those stuffies..whimpering his name into the night air as you cum, groping your tits and rubbing yourself furiously on the fabric until you squirt again and again on the soft material; imagining that it was your stepdad that was making you feel so good.
eddie had always thought you were innocent. always thought that you were a good girl; his good girl.
to be truthful, eddie was heavily attracted to you. the love and passion he should have for your mother, but instead had for you was sinful.
when you first walked around with your messy hair in the morning, teddy bear in your arms, eddie’s long t-shirt and your cute little pink or white panties on with nothing else, he knew he was screwed.
you would reach your arms up around his neck to hug him sleepily as he wrapped his arms around the small of your back, tattooed hands inching toward your clothed behind.
you knew he liked you. you could feel it.
the lingering stares and touches, the kisses on your neck and cheek, the times where he would joke around and tickle you--tickle parts that were most definitely too touchy and innapropriate for a stepdad to do to their stepdaughter.
he just loved you.
loved you so much, but he would never want to act on it; that would just make everything so very messy.
you were just so..soft and supple.
he was so different; long, messy hair, tatooed knuckles (and body), rings, a metal-head, and because he worked at the car shop, he always had oil and grease under his fingernails and on his hands when he came home in the evening every weekday..even a little on his face that he tried to wipe off with his skull bandana but it seemed to have smeared it a little more than clean it.
you, with your copious amounts of soft plushies (most that he gifted you and you would squeal about), flowy dresses, short skirts, sweet-smelling perfume..you were so different. so, so different. 
and that’s what he thought he liked most about you. that you both were opposites. and unbeknownst to him, you loved that too.
he loved watching you roller skate around the neighborhood as he worked on the hood of his car--watching you pop your pink bubblegum as you giggled when you stopped to pet a little puppy with its owner.
he knows he’s bad for this.
so, so bad.
he knows he’s a bad man. 
one night, he’s watching tv on the couch; legs and feet up on the coffee table as he smokes a cigarette.
when he sees you come around in your pink, cotton nighty (he’s wearing a white ‘wife beater’ with some oil and grease stains on it--along with some baggy jeans. his hair is in a very messy low bun, strands falling out of it and his combat boots with the shoelaces poorly tied.) --beige teddy bear in hand (to which you named biscuit) as you crawl into his lap. you’re on all fours on his seat cushion, hands out in front of you as you sit on your haunches. 
he smiles at you, rubbing your back with his left hand as he looks back at the tv, feeling your face close to his as he exhales the smoke away from you, but you scrunch your nose up.
so, you crawl further onto his lap, putting the cigarette out on the ashtry next to him as he scoffs lightly but a small smile is still there.
you look back at him, faces close as you both look at each other.
he narrows his eyes jokingly, “aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”
you bite your lower lip in faux contemplation, your head tilting as you look up.
“mm no.” you say, and he just rolls his eyes playfully.
“you’re mother wouldn’t like that, missy..”
you lay your head on his shoulder.
“don’ care. she’s not here,, an’ i didn’t see you all day, daddy.” you whisper, pouting softly as the tv illuminates your face in the dark room.
eddie’s eyes soften, clearing his throat because he always gets so damn flustered when you call him that.
he’s a bad man, he knows it.
but he will never stop you.
never stop you from doing what you truly want. 
he drags his fingers slowly across your cheekbone, bringing your head to his lips as he kisses your forehead before turning his attention back to the tv.
you’re still looking at him, fidgeting with his ringed fingers, your stuffed teddy bear pressed to your chest as you stay on his lap, his shoulder comfortable.
“daddy?..” you pause.
eddie looks at you. “what is it, baby?”
“d’you.. think ‘m pretty?”
he inhales sharply but slowly, clearing his throat and swallowing hard.
“uhm, yeah--yeah. you-you’re very pretty.”
you bat your lashes at him, innocence adorning your face. “really?”
“y-yeah, sweetheart.”
“pretty enough to kiss?” you ask, doe eyes glimmering with hope and the tv reflection. 
you move a bit closer to him. 
“uh, s-sure, yeah, baby.”
“so..you’d kiss me, daddy?”
eddie swallows again,he can feel himself drifting from a more practical mindset.
“sweetheart..” he lowly warns, his voice breathy.
“would you? thought you said i was a pretty girl.” your pout deepens.
“angel, y-you’re beautiful, but i-- i can’t answer that,”
he can see your eyes brimming with tears.
oh no.
oh fuck.
when you cry, he can’t take it.
it’s like kryptonite. 
he’ll literally do anything you ask if tears begin to sprout from your lower lids.
“y-you think ‘m ugly, d-don’t you?” you cry, and he clicks his tongue, bringing you into his neck whispering quick little, “no, no, no, no,”‘s
you inhale him, smelling his natural musk and cologne, along with detergent and some strawberry shampoo. it’s addicting.
“shit.. you’re my most beautiful girl, baby.. so, so beautiful.” he kisses the top of your head, his hand scratching gently at your scalp.
you pull away from his grasp, looking into his eyes as he gingerly wipes the tears away from your cheeks.
“you really believe that?” you ask, sniffling, fingers tracing over his knuckle tattoos.
he nods, brows pushed together and his eyes soften.
“i really do.”
“so, you’d kiss me then?”
“baby--”
“would you?” he can hear your voice thicken again.
“i--y-yes. i would kiss you.”
you smile softly, bringing his hand up to your lips as you kiss the pads of his fingers gently, eyes still gazing into his as eddie chews on his bottom lip, shifting in his seat.
“baby--” he tries again, but his voice dies out quickly.
eddie exhales as you both lean closer, lips almost touching before he clenches his eyes shut, resting his head on your forehead. he brings his hand up again, pulling your head down to kiss your forehead and you feel yourself pout with a small huff.
“we can’t.” his voice sounds almost pained, tortured, even. 
however, you’re stubborn.
you’re having none of it.
you quickly stand up, pulling out of his grasp--whining out a, “you don’t love me!” before storming away and going up to your room
eddie’s grateful your mom is out of town.
“sweetheart!” he tries to call, following after you, cursing under his breath.
“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--”
he catches up to you and grabs your arm in the hallway, turning you to him.
“thought you l-loved me!” you sob, and he can feel his heart breaking.
“i-i do, princess, ‘s jus’ that..well, your mother..”
“leave her!” you yell, eyes red and puffy as you sniffle.
eddie looks away for a second, sputtering for the right words before looking back at you. 
“honey, i-i can’t--”
and what you do next..he’s not expecting it, not at all.
you grab his hand, putting it between the apex of your thighs as he feels the damp cotton.
“--love you,” you cry softly, holding his hand there. “see how much, daddy? wan’ you an’ only you..”
“fuck,” he mutters, biting his bottom lip when he feels the outlines of your wet folds.
if eddie had kept his hand there one more second, he knew he would’ve taken you. 
would’ve brought you upstairs to your room and made love to you, but he took his hand away from you. 
you sob, yanking your arm away from him as you rush to your room, slamming the door shut just as he is about to make it.
he can hear your sobs through the door as he sighs, waiting a few moments before gently knocking with his knuckles.
“sweetheart? open up. please?” his voice is soft, and you almost give in.
“no!” you cry out, hiccuping.
eddie sighs, running his hand down his face.
“c’mon, baby. lemme in..i’ll cuddle you?” his voice is so gentle and it makes your head all fuzzy as you sniffle, rubbing your eyes with your fists before making your way to the door and unlocking it.
eddie opens it, seeing you run over to your bed and hug the teddy bear tight to your chest. 
he coos, taking his combat boots off and tugging the stuffed bear from you to see your face. 
you whine, rolling over on your tummy and crawling on all fours as you try to get to the other side of the bed before you feel eddie’s strong hands grip your hips pulling you towards him.
you cry, tears falling from your lashes like salty droplets of rain that cloud your vision. eddie turns you around, shushing you as you wrap your hands around his neck, and he follows; wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you closer to him as you sniffle in his neck as he rubs his hands along your back.
“w-why can’t you be with me?” you whimper, and eddie feels his heart crack. pulling your head out from the crook of his neck so you can look into his warm eyes, he takes a deep breath, pushing some of your hair behind your ear. he leans in, and you feel the breath in your chest hitch, eyes wide and stomach fluttering with butterflies.
he whispers, “don’t tell your mother..” before letting his lips slot over yours softly, heart pounding.
your first kiss!
the kiss is soft, your lips trailing over the other when you tilt your head. your kissing is a bit shy at first before your stepdad whispers a small, “relax, baby,” against your mouth, the rumble from his voice making your lips tingle more.
he leans down a bit, making you sit on your bed, his left arm extended out on the side of your body to hold himself up, his right hand holding your jaw as you both kiss, his tongue dragging against the seam of your lips as he crawls into your bed with you, soft whimpers escaping your mouth.
wet smacks and muffled noises are made between the both of you as you blush, eddie’s tongue slipping between your lips and into your mouth. you jolt a bit, and your face feels warm.
eddie laughs softly against your lips, sucking on your pout gently. “gotta relax, sweet girl. can’t kiss these pretty lips properly if your all jumpy..”
you whine, embarrassed and flustered--to which eddie finds adorable. “sorry, daddy..” 
he kisses your nose, then your cupids bow before returning sloppily to your lips.
you innocently stick your tongue in his mouth, feeling eddie smile gently at your inexperience. “slower, princess. drag your tongue across mine, m’okay? soft and slow.”
you nod, lips swollen and red, matching eddie’s as you pull him back in. your tongue drags slowly across his, massaging against it. it feels a little weird, but extremely good and stimulating. eddie tastes so so good..like cigarettes, beer, and mint; an odd combination, but it invites you in for more.
“good girl,” he sighs, savoring your lips on his. he has to ignore the painful ache presented between his legs. he doesn’t wanna scare you.
“mm’daddy,” you whine again, and you can feel his body press closer to yours, his lips sucking on yours as the kiss gets more desperate--almost possessive.
“baby,” he hums against your lips, suckling on your plump lower lip. “don’ want you to ever think i--mm’,” your lips press harder against his, hands fiddling with his hair as you whimper. he pulls you back with heavy pants between the two of you, his eyes melting into yours. he kisses your cheek. “d-don’t want you to think i don’t love you, sweet girl..i do--so, so much. fuck. jus’..princess, i never wanna stop kissing you. i love you so much--i don’t even know what to say, ‘m rambling..you got your daddy rambling ‘n shit like a fuckin’ nerd..” you blush a darker red, your ears tinted pink. eddie notices. god, you’re so cute, he thinks.
he feels lost in you. lost in your scent. in your touch. 
no, eddie, pull it together.
clearing his throat, he speaks. “..’s just that..in order for us to be.. ‘together’ i need to be with your mom..just for now. but in the near future, when the time is right, i wanna take you somewhere. leave. go---go to fuckin’ florida, i dunno...” he pecks your lips softly, and you giggle, pointer finger running gently over his top and bottom lip as you watch him speak. “..‘ll get you whatever you want. spoil you an--an, just you an i will be together, okay? but for now, we needa keep this a secret. have our playtime when your mom is away or when she’s asleep. y’know i love my little angel..” he pinches your waist jokingly, and you squeal. 
eddie smiles, lips connecting back onto yours before he murmurs a soft, “you understand, baby?” and you nod, whimpering a small, “yes, daddy,” hands weaving in his hair as you straddle his hips, his lips feeling so deliciously suffocating on you. your skin buzzes when he marks your neck. you feel like you can’t breathe but know you won’t be able to breathe without him kissing you--or at least it feels that way. 
his lips make your brain fuzzy and you can’t think much, other than his words..
he’s gonna take you far away.
he loves you.
alone with him.
forever n ever.
4K notes · View notes
bakubunny · 3 months
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*taps mic* ahem
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tw: daddy kink n ddlg dynamics
begging dilf! katsuki to read you bedtime stories every night because you just like hearing the sound of his voice, it’s innocent…promise. you’re definitely not getting hot and bothered by it. and when his voice is all rough and tired, it definitely doesn’t take more willpower to keep from riding his thigh. you just like bedtime stories…and the best way to hear them is when he lays in bed with you. he won’t notice how fidgety you are, or how touchy you’re becoming, or how close you keep scooting, right?
would i act just a smidge bratty just to get scolded by dada?? no of course not.
this is unfair i - i left your inbox alone for once
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i can hear it now
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katsuki chuckles, and it rumbles in your ear, laid up against his chest. “quit yer squirmin’. ‘m tryin t’read to ya.”
“…sorry daddy,” you reply.
he kisses you on the head and continues to read. and you try, you really do try to stay still. but your fingertips curl a little tighter into his shirt as your palms get warm with every passing word. your thighs squeeze and rub together just enough for him to catch. so he stops.
“what is it, kiddo?” he asks, his voice low and jumbled in your stomach.
you do your best to ignore what’s now a subtle throb between your legs. “i’m cold.”
you’re not sure if he believes you, but he doesn’t question it.
“then snuggle up close, c’mon,” he says. katsuki draws you in closer and reaches across his body to pull one of your legs over his.
you swallow. if he didn’t know before, he does now. the damp heat radiating from your core is intense and unmistakable. still you stay silent. you don’t see his grin, but you can hear it.
“you comfy, princess?”
you nod.
“good. now where was i?…”
his voice is so warm as he picks up where he left off, and gosh does it make you feel the same way. katsuki’s hand wanders down your back as you hold one side of the book at his request. your hips buck involuntarily into his leg from the comfort of his touch and the aching need still growing in you.
“s-sorry,” you murmur.
his soft laugh fills your ear yet again. “such a needy girl tonight. i can feel it. keep goin’, little one. try n get to the end without beggin’ me to help.”
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this is way more than i planned sorry
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s-sugustar · 3 months
Text
Your heroes — 𝒟.𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 , 𝒥.𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝
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🎧﹒synopsis ﹒✢﹐— Should've left her in my care, this wouldn't have happened if you did. — 𝒟.𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧
🎧﹒pairings ﹒✢﹐— Yandere! Red Hood x blk!fem reader x Yandere! Nightwing
🎧﹒content warning ﹒✢﹐— dark content, drug usage, smut, dub-con, power play if you squint hard enough, impact play, spitting, choking, degradation
🎧﹒author's notes ﹒✢﹐— had this in my drafts for ages since i had been a bit skeptical about posting it but here it is.
🎧﹒wc ﹒✢﹐— 3.1k
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“D’aww, look Jay. She’s drooling.” Grayson concedes, his hips pushing further and further into while his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing both sides from time to time. Jason struggled against the ropes as he watched Grayson mercilessly pound into you. The whining and tiredness in your voice had caught Grayson mid-way; stopping you from reaching your climax. “Is the baby tired?” he seethed, pulling you up by the neck to stop you from slumping over onto the bed.
Screeching in pain, the squinting of your eyes and the muffled sounds of your screams had been enough for Jason to wince. Everything was hurting and he knew that but there was nothing he could do. His limbs were like jello and his energy was gone; all because of some poison Grayson had thrown at him when he tried to stop Grayson from entering his apartment. 
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“Babe, you know the rules. You go to work, and you come straight back home, y’hear me?” Jason muttered, giving you a light kiss on the lips before placing one on your forehead before putting the metal helmet on. You really wished he didn’t have to lead this type of life; you wanted him to settle down for a bit, so you begged. Every single time he bid you goodbye at 2 in the morning, you always had something to say about staying home with you.
Regardless of how you put it each time, his answer had been the same regardless. “Gotta provide for you and f’me baby. Gotham needs to be at peace once in a while.” The end part being a joke to cheer you up or in hopes of making you laugh but that never happened. Staying quiet seemed like the best option every single time after the very first time you brought it up. 
To say it in the easiest way is best. Jason is paranoid; a bit too in over his head but his paranoia comes from years of battling against Batman and the fear of the Joker finding him once again and stripping him of everything, only this time, he feared it would be you with the aches of being hit with a crowbar.
After his resurrection, Jason bulked to say the least. His confidence hadn’t been there but he was stronger than before and he knew for a certainty that he would have a better chance at protecting you than before. Hiding away in the most grimy places in Gotham was his best alternative at this point. 
After becoming Red Hood, many of the districts fell under him as he ranked up. Unfortunately, he had a run-in with the one and only Batman, and to say that it ended in the most gruesome way possible was an understatement. Oh, no one was injured gravely, but the feelings that had been pent up for years had come all undone. 
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“Jason, I’m sorry.” It took three words for the young boy to fall to his knees in tears. After all that he had been through, he still cherished the man that left him to die. Oh what a pity. But alas, had it only been the Bruce and Grayson that had been in mourning? Dear God no. Had anyone think to check on Y/n, who had been Jason’s best friend? Grayson sure did. He had to be the one to keep her going after she heard the news.
The pain, the torment, the nightmares day in and out. It was a lot for Y/n to keep on going but Grayson made it better. During that time of need, Grayson stayed by your side through everything. He was your shoulder to cry on, the one who made you laugh till your stomach aches. He was your everything and all in one when Jason couldn’t have been. 
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“You know I’ll never leave you right?”  Grayson questioned, he peered down at you with a sullen look in his eyes, his fingers grazing the sides of your face.You fell asleep not too long ago, your head perched on a pillow with your head resting against Grayson’s arm. He knew that you wouldn’t have answered him, you had an extremely long day and with today being the 2 year anniversary of Jason’s death casting your light down even further than it was.
Bruce hadn’t been around you much, guilt filled his heart whenever he saw you so he chose to stay away. Grayson on the other hand, he knew that you lost the one who truly understood you, who had been there through thick and thin. Although Jason meant everything to you, Grayson held a piece of your heart as a dear beloved friend. 
To say that Grayson hadn’t felt a little bad that he was a bit glad that Jason had been gone was quite the understatement. He felt some sort of joy to see the way your eyes watered and your lips quivering before you had a full-blown breakdown. The heaving and small sniffles that came from you whilst Grayson soothed you made his heart do flips.
Now, Grayson was a sadist in any form or fashion but the way you looked, so vulnerable, so heartbroken, God did it do some things to him. Maybe it won't be a breakdown next time, maybe you'll be under him squirming and squealing as thrusts his dick into you. His plan was in place, all he needed was to wait for the right moment.
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Silence filled the room as you looked straight ahead of you, shock written all over your face. You couldn't move, you dearly wish you could've in this moment but how could you when the one you thought was dead stood boldly in front of you, a metal bodice surrounding his form and a metal mask in hand. "Jason?" was the only thing that fell from your lips as you drank in the boy or well man that stood before you.
Red had always been his favorite color from young; you never forgot. His eyes seemed distant; his stance wasn't as before. Rigid and hollow, many walls built for the sake of his sanity and maybe yours but in this moment, all of that crumbled when he spoke. "I came back. I came back. . . . .for you." All the love that had been shared between the two of you came rushing in like a tidal wave, breaking whatever strong force that tried to pull it back.
Grayson laid on the floor, bruised and bleeding; his mouth pooling with the taste of metal and the sight of red on the pavement. He cursed heavily before pulling himself up, his head against the nearest wall as he held his abdomen in pain. "That stupid red mask." He found his way home, easing through the open window, maybe a bounce in his step to see you.
A burning sensation rang through his jaw but that didn't stop him from calling out to you. Yet, he was met with silence. Odd. Usually you would have your arms wrapped around his torso, completely unaware of the wounds he had until a wince fell from his lips making you completely aware of his wounds before apologizing. "Hey munchkin, this isn't the time to play hide and seek with me. I'm hurt and I need your company right now."
Yet no response, again. Maybe you were asleep. With his head, he peeked into the room, quietly surveying it before slipping in ever so quietly. "Baby, stop heading from m-." "She's not hiding from you, she's gone." Nightwing sneered, wincing as he turned to face the one with a metal helmet coated in red with white lenses stared back at his broken body.
His hand balled into a fist before speaking, blood pooling in his mouth. "Where did you take her? Where the hell did you take her Red Hood?" A deep rumble emitted from his throat, his eyes squinting as he stalked towards the bigger man. Yet he didn't make it far as the barrel of a gun found refuge between his eyes, the metal was cold and hard since Red Hood pressed it harder against the skull of Nightwing.
"You come after her, I put a bullet in between your eyes, Grayson." The name fell from Jason's lips with much hatred and malice but with the built in modulator it was hard for Nightwing to understand the emotions behind what he had said. With a pregnant pause, Red Hood gave Nightwing one last look before going out through the window. Nightwing grunted in anger and in pain but stood in his place for a couple of minutes. He'll get you back, one way or another.
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"Sugar, you know I love you too much but I can't let you out. I'm sorry." Jason reasoned, it had been almost a year since he scooped you up from Grayson and you loved every bit of it but you felt caged. You couldn't leave the apartment, orders of Jason Todd. Sure, he had his reasons, but you wanted out. No, you needed to get out.
Seeing the same four walls day in and day out started to make you lose your mind and you couldn't afford to do that right now: not to Jason anyways. He had been through too much for you to act out and start whining over not being able to leave the house. Maybe it was for the best. Just like what Grayson used to say.
Grayson, Richard Grayson or well Dick as he wished you to call him. Boy was he some character. His worrisome state and his constant clinginess had been enough for you. You knew he meant well but sometimes you felt if there had been some sort of kick he was getting out of this.
You knew he meant well but sometimes you could feel something more sinister and darker, something he wasn't saying or well doing. Shaking your head from such perilous thoughts, you switched through channels trying to find some that would catch your attention.
A few hours later, you fell into sleepy state, your eyes shutting but blinking back to life to stay focused on the movie that had been playing. What did seem to catch your attention was the loud thunk that echoed from a room in the corridor. You sat up looking towards the hallway patiently waiting for Jason to appear.
Glancing over at the digital clock that showed 2:14 a.m. in bright red colors, it was around this time that Jason would normally get home but seeing that he didn't appear yet, you went to investigate. You peered into the training room, calling out to him. but you saw nothing, the only other room there had been the one both you and Jason slept in, so you headed there. You pushed open the door, a curious look upon your face when you saw that he hadn't been in there either, maybe something fell.
Now, you weren't one to be paranoid, but you felt goosebumps rise against your skin and the hairs on the back of your neck rising. You were being watched. At times like this, you wish Jason had trained you in some sort of hand-to-hand combat, something you could fight with, but he left you helpless, like a doll without blemishes, perched in a high place just to look pretty and keep up appearances. So caught up in the pretenses of the happy life you lived and the one you longed for, you weren't able to sense the light steps that followed behind you so in esseence, you were an easy target.
Yelping in pain, you grabbed the side of your head from the place where you had been hit and at the same time, you turned to see the culprit, but instead of meeting a face, your eyes met the hard plywood within the apartment; splotches of black covering your sight. Soon enough, you were out cold and left in the hands of the culprit.
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A sheer gasp fell from your lips as some strong force from behind. Wrapping their dominant hand around your waist and one hand gripped against your mouth. You tried to scream and hit them at the same time but all failed when the perpetrator tightened their grip on your waist and squeezed the flesh of your jaw, nails and the fabric on their hands digging into your skin.
"C'mon sweetheart, don't be like that to poor little Grayson." Your eyes widen in fear when a voice you could never forget sounded from behind you, but you weren't so shaken by the fact that Grayson had been pounding you whilst you slept but the fact that Jason had been tied to a chair, eyes wide open and staring right at you.
Brusies of all shapes and colors decorated his skin, more so the black eye that was starting to form. It was only then that you realized he had been gagged with some sort of sheer material from what you could see.
Then you saw the watery look in his eyes, was it because of the bruises, maybe so. That had been your first guess since it couldn't possibly be that he was crying, was he? With the little energy you had left, you twisted and turned your arm to loosen the grip that had been around it before you snatched it away, reaching towards Jason with a soft wail leaving your lips as you tried to reach him.
Alas, but Grayson had been attentive. Although caught up in filling you up with his cum and making sure Jason knew you were his, he pulled back your wrist, a tighter grip than before, wrenching it back in the same position, not caring if he had hurt you in the moment.
"You pull away from me again and I will break both your arms, understand?" Fear enveloped your entire body, but you still nodded, not wanting to anger the man any further. Maybe it had been your body that made you fall into the deep end. Panting at the surge of pleasure that flew through you as Grayson thrusted against your hips; the slick fabric rubbing against your skin every time he moved. The grip on your hips maybe have been tight but it felt good, really good. You weren't the only one who felt good in this moment though, the sane yet needy body that had been ravishing you from behind felt the shift in your stance.
Your arch deepened and your moans and whines felt more eased than strained; you were finally started to like it and that made Grayson excited. Yet on the other hand, Jason was furious; fingers deeply caved into his palms, he wouldn't be surprised if they were bleeding and his teeth clashed to the point where his jaw started to hurt. He shook against the restraints, pulling and twisting to find some sort of release.
His teeth snapping into one of your soiled panties, which he only learned that it was when Grayson had pointed it out when you were still passed out. The sweat shined in the moon light, beads of it dripping from his eyebrow. He felt hot and squeamish, he needed to get out of these restraints. Groaning at the rope that restricted his wrists, the roughness from it, bruising his wrists. The discomfort from the tactical pants he wore; not only from the ropes that sat around his ankles but also from inside of them.
The pushing against the fabric, a bit too tight for his liking. God, he felt disgusted with himself, but the sight of you was so appealing, he needed more; needed to feel you, feel inside you. The deep hollowness within his stomach stated enough, it was detrimental but addicting.
He hated the way Grayson corrupted you, pushing you into unknown waters, hazy of all things around you. He wanted to keep you safe, away from the dangers of this world, safe and wrapped in his arms. He was pulled from his thoughts when Grayson started to mumble, murmuring words into your ear. Jason didn't even realize that you were awake; eyes wide and staring right at him.
Was it shock or fear? Normally, with his enhanced hearing, he would have been able to hear every word that Grayson whispered to you and maybe he would've been able to break out from the ropes if his advanced strength and agility was still there but whatever Grayson had in that syringe caused his energy to deplete and his limbs to feel gummy.
Back to present moment where Grayson had your back arched and head pushed down in the mattress, Jason watched as you wiggle and squirm but every time that you did, you received a harsh slap to your thigh, causing you to whine in protest. Grayson had pulled out from his daze and looked towards Jason with a large smile, canines pointed and sharp, ready to strike and pierce.
He saw the mischievous glint in his eyes; that meant he was up to absolutely no good. "God Y/n, your blood smells divine. I don't understand why Jason hasn't sunken his teeth into you yet." As Grayson spoke, Jason's eyes widen in fear, head shaking vigorously, trying to signal to Grayson not to do it but by the smile etched on his face, he knew his attempts were futile.
Your screams were muffled by Grayson's hand as he sunk his teeth into your exposed neck, gripping your neck as he pulled it further to the side for more access. The man in restraints screamed, begged Grayson to stop but his screams were muffled by the now soaking wet fabric that invaded his mouth. His chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, eyes blown wide and bright in red as he heard your screams dying down and head lolling to the side, indicating that you had passed out from too much of your blood being taken.
"Oh no, poor baby all tuckered out." Grayson taunted, dropping your limp body back onto the bed as he pulled out of you; not caring enough to clean you up or wrap you in a soft cotton cloth. The older man got up from the bed, grabbing his escrima sticks before walking over to the chair that Jason had been tied to. With a pat on the shoulder, Grayson left Jason tied to the chair with nothing else but to stare at your unconscious body in the moonlight.
Tears cascading down his face not just from sadness of not being able to protect but from anger that the one person he trusted defiled the one person that kept him going. Once Jason was out of the ropes, he'd clean you and keep you warm but after his eyes were dead set on Richard 'Dick' Grayson and destroying everything he stood for. This meant war.
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