#You All Over Me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

babyjakes · 4 months

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you all over me.

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event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | double penetration

pairing | soft!dark!daddies!steve rogers and ari levinson x little!reader

warnings | dark ddlg dynamic (soft!dark!daddies of captive!little!reader.) dub/non-con. size kink. reader is held down and fucked. stretching. loss of anal virginity. unprotected double penetration (vaginal and anal.) mentions of anal training/stretching/fingering. clit rubbing. crying kink. praise and encouragement. mocking/humiliation. forced orgasm (with implied previous forced orgasms.) overstimulation. they come in her. little bit of aftercare.

word count | 1,386

an | this is written in the same au as clear blue water, with captive!reader and her soft!dark!daddies.

Tears poured down your damp cheeks as your face was tucked into the warm crook of Steve's neck. Arms reaching up weakly, you almost wanted to cling to the safety of his broad form as he lay beneath you, heavy breaths harmonizing with your own.

But that wouldn't do for your daddies- not for either of them. "Come on, babydoll. Where's that pretty face," the blonde crooned as his hips thrust upward over and over, rocking your own. His hands were on your waist, Ari's just above them as both the men worked to keep you upright and in place, their massive lengths pounding into you with steady rhythm.

They had been fucking you like this for what felt like hours, but the sensations of fullness and overstimulation you were experiencing were still just as overwhelming and horrible as when they had first pushed into you. Steve had gone first, both of the men knowing you would tolerate his part better. They were a bit concerned when you were in tears from the vaginal penetration alone, but as usual, they wouldn't be discouraged. As difficult as it was, and as pitiful as you were to watch as you were held down and split open, Ari was eventually able to work himself into you as well.

As they kept their four strong hands on you, working you up and down over their throbbing cocks like nothing more than a fleshlight with a pulse, you honestly couldn't tell which forceful insertion felt worse. It was all blurring together, the world nothing more than a streaky haze through your steady tears. The men shared a sympathetic glance with each other before Steve refocused his attention back on you. "Poor girl," he murmured lowly, bringing a hand up to brush away your tears with his thumb. "Know it's so hard, little one. So hard to take both your daddies' cocks at the same time, isn't it?"

"So full, aren't you, baby?" Ari nodded in agreement, his oversized member stretching your poor little bottom to its absolute limit. Despite the generous amount of lube they'd used and the time they'd spent patiently coaxing your tiny hole open with their greedy fingers, nothing could ease the horrible burning feeling that bloomed through your lower half as you were taken in the ass for the very first time.

"Look so pretty like this, all stretched out stuffed full of us," Steve groaned, his cock twitching so hard within your aching walls that you could feel it, your poor tummy spasming in response. To the man lying comfortably on his back, there had never been a sight quite as beautiful as this: watching from the front as your tiny holes were so helplessly violated, large hands holding you in place and giving you no choice but to sit there and take it, your perky tits bobbing perfectly as your figure was worked at a steady, punishing pace.

And though he couldn't see your chest as well, or the pretty little faces you were making as your body was used and abused so sinfully, Ari's view from behind you wasn't anything to turn his nose up at, either. He loved the way your back arched up as their dicks kept you angled forward towards Steve, your adorable ass bouncing in rhythm as his cock tore into your throbbing, achy hole. He could easily keep you going with just his hands alone; with both him and Steve being so much larger and stronger than you, it wasn't difficult for either one of them to overpower you and allow the other to make better use of a second pair of hands.

Which is just what Steve did as his partner held you up and in place, giving him the signal of a nod. "Go ahead, Stevie. Let's give some attention to that pretty little clit of hers," Ari suggested. Steve spit on his thumb, bringing the other hand down to pull back its protective hood as he smeared the clear wetness all over your poor little bundle of nerves. Your body jerked harshly at the stimulation, but you couldn't do anything to stop them or squirm away; you were completely helpless, having no choice but to let the blonde rub your exposed little nub in quick, harsh circles.

"Please, p-please... n-no!" you choked through your tears as your whole body began to shake with sobs.

"C'mon doll, doesn't that feel good? Know you like it when we pull back the hood and rub you right there, right on your cute little button," Steve frowned and faked worry at your cries, though he and Ari both knew perfectly well the way their actions and words were tormenting you.

"That's right," Ari mused from behind you as he kept your trembling body moving across their stiff lengths, "our pretty girl loves having her sweet little clit rubbed. Makes her come so hard, doesn't it Stevie? Poor baby can't help it when her daddies play with her clit, but it sure is cute to watch her try and fight it."

"So cute," Steve hummed in agreement, watching intently as your breaths began staggering, your little feet kicking weakly as your knees shook and struggled on either side of him. "Oh? Looks like she's getting close here," the blonde sang as he continued his skillful work over your slick, sticky nub. "Can feel her little pussy fluttering- what do you think, babydoll? You gonna be a good girl and come for your daddies?"

Watching as your buildup continued, Ari and Steve shared a knowing nod, both increasing the speed of their respective roles as their cocks pumped more vigorously inside you. This is the moment they had been waiting for; of course they were hoping to come as you did. A few orgasms had been forced from your trembling form earlier as you were held down by one and stretched out on the other's fingers, but this was meant to be the grand finale, the climax you would all share, whether you were willing or not.

"Can feel her squeezing us- she's getting close," Ari grunted as their dicks clapped lewdly into your dripping holes. "That's it, sweetheart. Come on, almost there..."

Your resistance was a losing game. As much as you fought and defied them each time, a sense of helplessness was never absent from within you; you knew you'd be forced to come. And with both of them thrusting into you at an almost immeasurable speed, and Steve's torturous hands working your clit the way he knew best, there was nothing for you to do but let them have their way with you. Eyes squeezing shut as your tummy tightened, your little toes curled as your orgasm was ripped from your faltering grasp. You came long and hard, Steve and Ari's triumphant words of praise merely echoes as heat and shocks of ecstasy overcame your exhausted body.

Warmth burst in your core as you were pumped full of both the men's come, Ari's fingers digging in almost painfully around your waist as their cocks swelled and sputtered within you. When you were finally coming down from your impressively long high, you let out a soft, broken cry as Steve finally eased your body down to rest limply against his front. "Shhh," you could hear him humming soothingly, someone's hand rubbing your back as you sniffled and sobbed into your captor's chest. "Easy pulling out of her," he was murmuring to Ari as the world seemed to slow around you.

"You're okay, baby. You were so good for us," the brunette was praising you softly from behind as he shifted a bit inside you, trying to measure how careful he needed to be as he and his partner now shifted their focus towards damage control.

"Don't cry, little one. Daddy's here, Daddy's got you," Steve kissed the top of your head as he cooed at you, his broad arms cradling you lovingly as you clung to him. You were desperate for any comfort and tenderness you could get at this point, even if it was straight from the hands of your abusers. This is usually how you wound up at the end of the day, a weeping mess in your daddies' arms, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

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rosanna-writer · 18 days

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You All Over Me

Summary: Amarantha's scent is still clinging to Rhys during his last conversation with Feyre on the balcony Under the Mountain, sending his newly Made Alpha into a rut. Warnings: dubious consent, referenced sexual assault Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~3k

Some dialogue is taken directly from A Court of Thorns and Roses.

This fic contains references to Rhys's canon sexual assault by Amarantha, and for magical omegaverse reasons, consent for the sex he has with Feyre is dubious for both of them.

You can find the fic under the cut or Read on AO3.

I should have gone straight home. After Amarantha's death, I had no allies to confer with, and I'd sent Nuala and Cerridwen back to the Night Court at the first opportunity. There was nothing left for me here.

Nothing left other than Feyre.

I'd slipped into the shadows once she'd been Made, unable to bear the sight of her in Tamlin's arms. She deserved to rest—I could feel the heavy weight of her exhaustion as if it were my own—but at my core, I was a selfish bastard. She'd fucked Tamlin, so I'd woken her up and called her to me. If she asked, I'd lie and tell her it was just to say goodbye, not the truth that I'd done it just because I could.

Even squinting in the sunlight and moving unsteadily in her new body, Feyre was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I leaned against the balcony railing, marveling at the way the light made her hair look golden while I gave her a moment to adjust. It had taken me some time, too.

"What's that smell?" she said eventually.

I cocked my head. "What smell?" There wasn't anything out here other than me.

Feyre lowered her hand from her face and stepped closer. I stilled. Her nostrils flared as she scented me, and then the realization hit me with all the force of a punch to the gut.

I'd serviced Amarantha just before the start of the final trial. There hadn't been time to bathe after.

I opened my mouth to strike before Feyre could—to tell her that was a bold question when she'd come up here still reeking of Tamlin's arousal. But I closed it as Feyre lifted her wrist and skimmed it across my cheek and down my neck.

Alpha. My Alpha.

Feyre couldn't have known what she was doing, but that didn't matter in the face of magic and deep-seated instinct. A wave of knee-wobbling relief crashed through me anyway. Fifty years of horror were over—my Alpha was here to protect me, already chasing away that bitch's scent and replacing it with her own. My eyes fluttered shut.

"You reek," Feyre muttered darkly, moving her wrist up to rub her scent glands against my hair. "This is worse than the Wyrm shit. Did— Did something happen while I was asleep?"

Her thoughts were spiraling as she tried to understand what was happening—I could feel her fear that it hadn't all ended when Amarantha died, that there was some new threat making itself known. An Alpha's urge to protect thrummed under all of it, even if Feyre didn't realize what it was.

Before I could stop myself, I was grabbing her hand, holding her wrist in place so I could keep brushing it against the sensitive skin on the side of my neck. Partially my instinct to reassure her that I was alright, but also…because I felt dirty and used when I smelled like Amarantha. Soiled, all the way down to my soul.

Feyre couldn't know. At least not yet. If Feyre learned it was another female she was smelling on me—and not just any female, but my rapist—that might be enough to send her into a rut. And she didn't need that happening before someone calmly explained all the new sensations and instincts she was feeling in her new fae body.

I turned my head, rubbing my nose along the inside of her wrist and breathing in lilac and pear and Alpha. "Nothing's wrong," I said into her skin. "All is well."

Feyre didn't yank back her arm the way I expected she would. No, she stepped closer, lifting her other wrist to spread her scent even further, her skin hot against my other cheek. Though it was utterly foolish when she'd just walked into hell and died for another male, I found myself imagining what it would be like for her to knot me in a nest drenched in that scent.

Mostly to herself, she whispered, "I could've sworn… It felt like you needed me."

It took every ounce of self-control not to tell her that I did. A few more seconds of her marking me with her scent, and I probably would have been a slick-coated mess babbling about needing to be protected and bred full. I forced myself to drop her wrist and stepped to the side, putting some distance between us.

"I just wanted to say goodbye," I said, forcing myself to smirk, to make the disdain in my voice evident, "before your beloved whisks you away forever."

Feyre's hand still hung in the air, and she curled her tattooed fingers into a fist. For a moment, I thought she might strike me—I probably deserved it. But she just balled her hands at her sides, as if it were a struggle not to reach out and touch me again.

I rustled my wings, a vain attempt at airing the balcony out faster. A mistake. It drew Feyre's attention to them, and I resisted the urge to spread them wide and preen for her. To coax my Alpha into staying.

"Not forever. Don't you get a week every month?" Her voice was ice-cold, but it didn't matter. She was thinking so loudly she might as well have shouted don't go yet at me, the words laced with need. I stayed in place.

"How could I forget?"

For a moment, she just stared at me, nostrils flaring again. I let her. "Why?" she said eventually.

I understood what she was asking. And for once, I could give her the truth.

"Because when the legends get written, I didn’t want to be remembered for standing on the sidelines. I want my future offspring to know that I was there, and that I fought against her at the end, even if I couldn’t do anything useful. Because I didn’t want you to fight alone. Or die alone."

"Thank you," she said tightly. I prayed she wouldn't cry—I wouldn't be able to keep my composure if she did.

Feyre closed her eyes, taking a slow, deep breath as if to steady herself. That should have been my cue to leave. I'd made myself understood; we wouldn't be parting as enemies. With any luck, someone would take her aside and explain what was happening, and I'd get back on suppressants before we saw each other again.

"I don't understand," Feyre whispered, speaking mostly to herself again. "Your scent, when nothing's covering it up…There's nothing like it. Is this something you're doing to me? Tamlin didn't— It's not like that with him."

There was nothing I could say to that. I started to winnow, but just as I began to fade into the shadows, Feyre's hand shot out and gripped my wrist, vice-like.

Mother above, she was strong—she'd nearly shattered my bones.

"No," she growled. "Not without me."

I couldn't hold back a shudder, and it was no small miracle that I hadn't whimpered, too. I was utterly powerless when she commanded me like that.

"Alpha, please. Let me take you home," I said, already thinking about the nest I'd make for her, how I could best show her that she could do whatever she wanted with me, that I'd take whatever she decided to give me and thank her for it, that I'd be the perfect little Omega for her…

"Anywhere, as long as you stay with me. Call in the bargain if you have to."

I barely had the presence of mind to bring us to the moonstone palace instead of straight to Velaris. We landed on another balcony, but I hardly had the chance to take in the sight of the home I'd spent decades thinking I'd never see again.

Feyre yanked my arm and pulled me against her. I melted into the heat of her body as she rubbed her cheek against my neck, marking me even more thoroughly. She let out another growl, this one of satisfaction.

"Mine," she said. "You're supposed to smell like mine. What the hell are you doing to me, Rhys? I don't feel talons in my mind."

Cauldron boil and fry me—so much for avoiding a rut.

Feyre deserved for this to happen more gently, but I was afraid there wouldn't be time for that. I pressed my way into her mind, then deposited the basic information on faerie mating bonds and our kind's secondary genders—all of it, at once. I felt her go stiff against me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"You're my—"

"I'm sorry."

She pulled me even closer, burying her face in the crook of my neck, just inches from the gland she could sink her teeth into and claim me as hers. I felt her breath hitch. There was no telltale wetness from tears, but she was spent and overwhelmed all the same.

There was a deliberate shuffling of feet in the distance, footsteps from someone who was doing their best to make themselves known. As one, Feyre and I whipped our heads in the direction of the sound.

Mor.

I nearly sobbed with relief at the sight of my cousin; she looked just as she had the day I'd left for Amarantha's damned party. But before I could say anything, a tendril of darkness leaked from Feyre—Feyre—and slammed into Mor with brutal force, shoving her to the other side of the room.

Well, then. I supposed it was clear what power Feyre had gotten from me.

"She's my mate," I said by way of explanation.

Mor blanched. "Welcome home" was all she managed to say before winnowing away.

Feyre was trembling against me—from anger or fear or need, I wasn't sure. At some point, her hands had fisted in my jacket. I felt an urge to twine an arm around her waist or stroke her hair, but I wasn't sure that would be welcome.

"That was my cousin. You have nothing to fear from her," I said, not quite able to bring myself to say directly that Mor wasn't going to fuck me.

Feyre sighed, so I must have gotten the message across. Her fingers dipped under the hem of my shirt, and the heat of her hands on my bare skin might as well have been a brand.

"This had better not be another mind-trick," she said. The note of command in her voice made my knees go weak. If I hadn't been leaning against her, I might have fallen to the floor.

I felt like I might vomit. After everything I'd done to her Under the Mountain, of course Feyre didn't trust me, which was bad enough on its own, but there was nothing quite as earth-shattering as knowing my Alpha was displeased with me. I wanted to die.

"It's not, Alpha. I swear it."

Feyre shifted, pressing herself flush against me. She'd gotten hard; her cock was straining against my thigh. "How the hell does anyone survive a…a rut? It's like I'll explode if I don't fuck you."

"Give me your knot, and it'll pass more quickly. Let me help you. Please," I said, voice tight as I felt slick begin to run down my thigh.

Feyre let out a noise that was half-growl, half-whine. She writhed against me, desperate for contact or pressure or anything, and her thoughts were rapidly becoming incoherent. I placed a hand on her arm and winnowed us to a bedroom, locking the door shut.

Half a thought, and magic had our clothes off, folded neatly in the far corner of the room. I pulled away from Feyre, and she snarled at the lack of contact, even as I knelt on the bed and pressed my face into the mattress.

"All yours," I said.

All at once, parts of me were cracking open while others were stitching themselves back together. Fifty years of bending over just like this and saying those words…it changed everything to finally mean them.

I heard a footstep behind me, and for a horrible moment, I was sure Feyre hated me so strongly that she'd walk away during a rut. But then the mattress dipped.

"You're so wet," she breathed, her tone almost…awestruck.

I'd made sure she knew the basics, but there was still so much I'd have to guide her through. Thank the Mother I wasn't in heat. I spread my legs a bit wider, tipping my ass up in invitation and stretching my wings wide so she could settle right between them.

"More than enough for your knot. Take me. As fast and deep as you need to, Alpha."

Feyre slid right into me, burying herself to the hilt on the very first stroke. The stretch alone was bliss, but she sighed the word Omega as relief and rightness and homecoming and sated hunger all flooded the bond. I didn't know which feelings were mine and which were hers.

That's when I knew—not just knew, but believed—that I was finally free from Under the Mountain.

The pace she set was nothing short of punishing. I didn't mind. All I wanted was to give everything to my Alpha, so I drove my hips back and took her deeper. Feyre was murmuring a steady litany of words I couldn't follow beyond mine and mate, which was all I needed as the first wave of pleasure started to build.

Her knot began to swell, and I keened. She wasn't even locked inside me yet, and I was already more deliciously full than I'd ever been in my life. Slick coated my thighs. The wave crested and crashed and I lost myself in the feeling of complete surrender to my Alpha. No beginning, no ending, just climax and the scent of lilac and pear and her.

I barely had time to catch my breath before Feyre growled, and her teeth sunk into my shoulder as she filled me with her seed. The stretch around her knot, the bite of her teeth—shockwaves of pleasure-pain made my vision go white.

When I came back to myself, her knot was firmly inside me, holding us together. Unused to the sensation, she wiggled her hips, and I felt even the slightest movements against my ass.

"That's it, Alpha," I managed to say, my voice so ragged it was nearly unrecognizable. "It's perfect. Your knot feels perfect inside of me."

Still beyond words, Feyre purred. It was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard, and even if she went back to hating me for the rest of eternity, just knowing I'd pleased her this one time would be all I needed to survive it.

For once, I was enough.

I hid my wings and shifted us both over to our sides, hoping it was more comfortable for her as she adjusted. Feyre ran her nose along my neck and banded an arm around my chest. I closed my eyes and did my best to commit the feeling of utter safety and peace to memory. She'd be gone in a week, and I doubted she'd ever knot me again.

But Feyre didn't move, even as her knot faded. Other than a halfhearted movement of my hand to magic away the mess we'd made and cover us with the duvet, I stayed perfectly still. I wasn't stupid enough to break the moment.

"I can't go back," Feyre said. Her voice was small, all the power and command of an Alpha in a rut just…gone.

"We made it out. She's dead, and it's over."

"I can't go back home. Not after this, not now that I know…everything."

Tamlin was an Alpha—perhaps as a human, Feyre had been someone he could protect like an Omega, but now, she was a force to be reckoned with. Whatever they shared had been doomed once she'd been Made.

The least I could do was give her the space she needed to grieve it.

"Take a week to gather your thoughts, then. If you'd rather not be accused of disloyalty, I'll take the blame and play the dark lord who stole you away at the very first opportunity."

Feyre sat up, pulling the sheets with to cover her chest as she stared at me through eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I would have thought you'd be eager to rub it all in Tamlin's face."

"I have no desire to cause you more distress than I already have."

"Because we're…"

Her inability to say it aloud made my gut twist, another reminder that she didn't want me. I sat up, waving a hand towards the dresser in the corner of the room; several more blankets floated in my direction, and I set to work arranging them into a nest.

"Because I'm many things, but a sadist isn't one of them."

Feyre just sat there and blinked as if that were some sort of shocking revelation. She was still clutching the blanket, so I summoned a robe for her to slip on.

But when she stood, it was my discarded shirt that she donned instead.

The nest was hardly my best work; I wouldn't blame Feyre if she wanted nothing to do with it—at the very least, she was probably more interested in a bath or finding something to eat. I bundled myself up at the center of it and left room for her anyway.

I fully intended to be there a while. My family could wait; I wanted to see them, but not until I'd gotten a chance to get my head on straight after the whirlwind that had been the past day.

And in truth, I didn't want to leave the nest until Feyre's scent had faded from the sheets completely.

She was still watching me, wary as always. It was easy to forget that Feyre didn't already know her way around, and I started to tell her she was here as an honored guest, not a prisoner. But then her eyes slid to the empty space at my side.

"It's yours, too," I said.

Feyre squeezed in next to me, drawing her knees up to her chest. We were silent for a long moment, and she stared at the wall with a too-blank expression I'd seen on warriors just after devastating battles. There was nothing to say, not with our wounds still so raw.

Then Feyre tipped her head to the side and rested it on my shoulder.

I let myself hope.

#feysand #feyre archeron #You All Over Me #doing my part to get drag this fandom into its omegaverse era

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