Moonlitinks - Ave

this may just be me - but i realize how important support and validation is in writing. and now the affirmations where people read your work and say it's amazing.

that's great too, but i mean the direct support of your family and writer friends telling you that you can do it when you believe you can't. when you're about to slip into that space of insecurity, wondering, should i really do this? your family members tell you, yes, i told you that you shouldn't have done it, that you would regret it.

support is so, so important. and it shouldn't be half-assed, because our insecurity can latch onto that, too. and this isn't just for people who want to be full-time writers, but all writers, because anyone who writes is a writer.

but it hurts when the people closest to you don't understand how you feel. don't understand the frustration that sometimes comes with having writers' block, the joy of finding a character's origins, their turning point, their growth.

i still get messages from my loved ones: are you still doing this? is this the route you want to go? and it hurts, because i feel like they don't have faith in me, like they're watching a car go at 120 mph or something and waiting for it to create an accident.

but i can't let go of this. i crave writing, i think about it even when i can't write, and i miss the nostalgia of getting words on the page.

so don't give up. you can do it, you can be it. i believe in you, genuinely.

Trick or Treat! 🦇🎃🕷️

hi! trick for you! 🦇 give me what you got haha

trick or treat asks/event here

Fuck Ari! Like literally fuck him and fuck Sharon!! He doesn’t deserve reader’s love.

honestly... he's entering on a long path to redeem himself haha

can't wait for the sight on him on reader's knees begging to let him take care of her :")

daddy!ari levinson x baby!reader | kinktober 2022 summary | you try not to get caught when cockwarming ari.

for more drabbles: [#kinktober 2022] tag!

warnings | size kink, breeding kink, dd/lg, dom/soft ari, smut

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CONT.

“I—oh!” You startle when Ari thrusts his hips up to yours. How his dick is still hard inside of you, you can’t grasp. Instead, you’re reduced to a blabbering, silent mess when you grab his biceps in an attempt to pull yourself together. 

“You’ve been sleeping on me, sweetheart.” The man says gruffly, kissing up your neck. He whispers in your ear, “Didn’t I tell you to pay attention to Daddy?”

He loves that you’ve been cockwarming him the last hour, a blanket draped over the two of you. No one—not Bucky, not Sam, not any of his friends that he invited—knew what he was up to. No one got to hear the small gasp escape you when he pushed your panties to the side and slid himself in to the hilt. The stretch burned because you’re still a little baby, still adjusting to Daddy’s big dick.

And fuck if Ari doesn’t love that you can’t take him. Every resistance gives him that adrenaline rush, every inch of him that your cunt takes a feeling of victory.

He’s been sitting with a smug smirk for an hour—he knows that much. And that your pussy has been squeezing him, desperate for his cum. 

So when you drifted off the last hour, sucking on his thumb, his heart filled with warmth. Widened to leave a space for you and no one else. Got him so hard he wondered if you’d take his cum mindlessly in your sleep. 

Ari pushes his hips upwards while shoving yours towards him, diving deeper into you. You grab at the back of his hair, whimpering into his skin. Sinking into him. 

“Just stay like that, baby. Let Daddy do all the work, hm?” 

“But—” Your eyes steal a glance at the men on the other side, and he sneaks in to pinch your clit. The immediate aftershocks have you squeaking and bucking your hips into him once more. 

None of the men move from their spots—good. He’d probably have to kill them if they got a glimpse of the desire in your eyes and parted lips.

“I thought you liked it when Daddy filled you up. When he pressed your little button.” 

Ari relishes in your thighs trembling, in your head shaking as you try to get it together. Another press against your button, this time it’s timed with a deliberate thrust that no doubt leaves an outline on your stomach. 

“Come on baby—just give Daddy what he wants.”

Additionally, caught in the midst of constantly forced to choose a side, Asian Americans are not able to attain a space to grieve their loss or erasure: they are either placed in neat categories of victim or perpetrator, but never victim and perpetrator, and thus are unable to come to terms with what they have lost.