stupiddumbbunnies

[stupiddumbbunnies]

Bad case of baby fever.

John price x fem!reader,

cw: smut no plot, unprotected sex, bre3ding kink (no pregnancy), daddy kink (icky), meanie!price. i probably missed some things

Of course, you loved Price, who couldn't? but you loved him even more when you saw him holding a cute baby. although you two established early on in the relationship that neither of you wanted kids, but oh boy does he look like he'll be the hottest dad ever...

It had you daydreaming for weeks; every time you saw him, you could picture him with a baby, and you absolutely loathed the sight. It doesn't help that both of you also have a breeding kink. How can you guys prevent babies when you both have a huge breeding kink? That was a daily conversation that you two had, but you guys made it work.

you finally decide to sit him down and tell him what you've been thinking about. "Baby..." you state quietly as he sits down. He gives you a suspicious look, eying you up and down, as you nervously shift on your feet in front of him. "What are you up to? why do you look so nervous?" he asks gruffly, trying to solve the puzzle of emotions that he can see on your face.

"So uhh, remember when we were at our friends' house and you were holding that baby?" you say, meeting his gaze, looking at him with that certain look that you get when you're feeling needy but shy. "Yeah, love, but I'm confused. What does that have to do with this little meeting that you called here, huh?"

You shifted on your feet again at his firm tone, "so uhm you kind of gave me baby fever... but before you say it. I know I know. no babies, but I've been thinking about it ever since." You say all in one breath and avoid his gaze. You then hear that chuckle of his, you hear him stand up and he grabs you by the waist.

You look up at him, and he's smirking down at you. "You want me to fill you up, honey? Is that what you need dove?" he says, grabbing your jaw harshly. you instantly get soaked.

you've always loved it when he got aggressive like this.

"fuck! im sorry! im sorry!" you whine out as you're being pounded mercilessly from behind. John's big hand shoving your face into the pillow to shut you up. you shouldn't have badmouthed him when he was going to give you what you wanted.

"fuckin' shut up. m'gonna fill you up raw. Nice and good, like you like it." he says, his free hand snaking under you to rub your clit. You let out a sound in protest, but he just shoves your head back into the pillow. "you wanted this. if you weren't a brat, you would've got this slow n' gentle, but no, you wanna give me attitude." he grunts making his point clear by driving hard thrusts into you with every word.

you whine, moving your hand to push him, not knowing if you want him to stop or keep going. He shoves your hand away. "Did i say you could move your fuckin' hand?" he asks. slowing down to a dangerously slow pace.

Oh.

oh.

you get scared, you knew that was a bad idea. you know not to do anything without permission, especially if he's angry with you. you choose not to respond, getting quiet. He slaps your ass. hard. grabbing your hair, pulling you up against him so your back hits his chest. he immediately starts to pound into you, the new position making you take him deeper and deeper.

you screamed.

and oh, did he fucking relish in that scream. he loved it when he would make you scream.

"im sorry! j-john i didn't mean to!" you stutter as tears run down your face. as he hears you cry, he goes faster, making you clench around him. "Fuck- taking me so tight, aint ya?" he laughs. you know for sure he's laughing at your tears. he loved it when you cried for him.

"please, i can't take any more. john please," you pleaded, begging him to go easy on you. He puts his hand on your throat, a warning. silencing you. "Is that what you call me? i don't think that's my name," he says, going back to his slow and long thrusting pace, repeatedly hitting your G-spot.

"your name is d-daddy..! fuck-" you squeak due to his hand closed around your throat, it was so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. but he decides to let it go as he picks up the pace. "Yeah, I fuckin' bet you're gonna make me a daddy, huh? m'gonna fill you up so good that you'll give me triplets" he says, pulling out of you and grabbing you by your waist, flipping you onto your back, dragging you down by your arms to the edge of the bed as he pins your arms down, "breathe" he commands, you dont even get to say anything or even register whats happening before his cock slips into your mouth, causing you whine around him.

He starts to fuck your mouth, nice and slow. at first... in a matter of seconds he has you gagging and crying. he slaps your pretty cunt. "fuckin' take it. atta girl. take all of dads cock..”

And the night wasn’t even over yet..

a/n ,

let me know if you guys liked this!! i can try to write some more similar to this. i promise (a lie) that i wont ghost you guys anymore!!

[stupiddumbbunnies]

Bad case of baby fever.

John price x fem!reader,

cw: smut no plot, unprotected sex, bre3ding kink (no pregnancy), daddy kink (icky), meanie!price. i probably missed some things

Of course, you loved Price, who couldn't? but you loved him even more when you saw him holding a cute baby. although you two established early on in the relationship that neither of you wanted kids, but oh boy does he look like he'll be the hottest dad ever...

It had you daydreaming for weeks; every time you saw him, you could picture him with a baby, and you absolutely loathed the sight. It doesn't help that both of you also have a breeding kink. How can you guys prevent babies when you both have a huge breeding kink? That was a daily conversation that you two had, but you guys made it work.

you finally decide to sit him down and tell him what you've been thinking about. "Baby..." you state quietly as he sits down. He gives you a suspicious look, eying you up and down, as you nervously shift on your feet in front of him. "What are you up to? why do you look so nervous?" he asks gruffly, trying to solve the puzzle of emotions that he can see on your face.

"So uhh, remember when we were at our friends' house and you were holding that baby?" you say, meeting his gaze, looking at him with that certain look that you get when you're feeling needy but shy. "Yeah, love, but I'm confused. What does that have to do with this little meeting that you called here, huh?"

You shifted on your feet again at his firm tone, "so uhm you kind of gave me baby fever... but before you say it. I know I know. no babies, but I've been thinking about it ever since." You say all in one breath and avoid his gaze. You then hear that chuckle of his, you hear him stand up and he grabs you by the waist.

You look up at him, and he's smirking down at you. "You want me to fill you up, honey? Is that what you need dove?" he says, grabbing your jaw harshly. you instantly get soaked.

you've always loved it when he got aggressive like this.

"fuck! im sorry! im sorry!" you whine out as you're being pounded mercilessly from behind. John's big hand shoving your face into the pillow to shut you up. you shouldn't have badmouthed him when he was going to give you what you wanted.

"fuckin' shut up. m'gonna fill you up raw. Nice and good, like you like it." he says, his free hand snaking under you to rub your clit. You let out a sound in protest, but he just shoves your head back into the pillow. "you wanted this. if you weren't a brat, you would've got this slow n' gentle, but no, you wanna give me attitude." he grunts making his point clear by driving hard thrusts into you with every word.

you whine, moving your hand to push him, not knowing if you want him to stop or keep going. He shoves your hand away. "Did i say you could move your fuckin' hand?" he asks. slowing down to a dangerously slow pace.

Oh.

oh.

you get scared, you knew that was a bad idea. you know not to do anything without permission, especially if he's angry with you. you choose not to respond, getting quiet. He slaps your ass. hard. grabbing your hair, pulling you up against him so your back hits his chest. he immediately starts to pound into you, the new position making you take him deeper and deeper.

you screamed.

and oh, did he fucking relish in that scream. he loved it when he would make you scream.

"im sorry! j-john i didn't mean to!" you stutter as tears run down your face. as he hears you cry, he goes faster, making you clench around him. "Fuck- taking me so tight, aint ya?" he laughs. you know for sure he's laughing at your tears. he loved it when you cried for him.

"please, i can't take any more. john please," you pleaded, begging him to go easy on you. He puts his hand on your throat, a warning. silencing you. "Is that what you call me? i don't think that's my name," he says, going back to his slow and long thrusting pace, repeatedly hitting your G-spot.

"your name is d-daddy..! fuck-" you squeak due to his hand closed around your throat, it was so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. but he decides to let it go as he picks up the pace. "Yeah, I fuckin' bet you're gonna make me a daddy, huh? m'gonna fill you up so good that you'll give me triplets" he says, pulling out of you and grabbing you by your waist, flipping you onto your back, dragging you down by your arms to the edge of the bed as he pins your arms down, "breathe" he commands, you dont even get to say anything or even register whats happening before his cock slips into your mouth, causing you whine around him.

He starts to fuck your mouth, nice and slow. at first... in a matter of seconds he has you gagging and crying. he slaps your pretty cunt. "fuckin' take it. atta girl. take all of dads cock..”

And the night wasn’t even over yet..

a/n ,

let me know if you guys liked this!! i can try to write some more similar to this. i promise (a lie) that i wont ghost you guys anymore!!

[stupiddumbbunnies]

fingers crossed that oneshots win bc i hate writing chapters 🙏🏽

[stupiddumbbunnies]

do you guys like dad bf x reader ?? lmk

[stupiddumbbunnies]

Simon Riley fucks you like he hates you.

And maybe a part of him does, because never in his 30 something years of life has he loved someone as much as he loves you.

What did you do to bewitch him like this? He’s scared to lose you, scared that one day that look in your eyes won’t be there. But he timidly stays with you, even thought you don’t realize it, hug you a little more, grumble into your shoulder something incoherent that he’ll miss you when you go to work. And he’s admitted it, in his head, yeah he’s admitted he loved you. He’s admitted defeat, waved that white flag in surrender.

But his actions are all out of whack, he’s not very good at this, he lives and breathes for you— so in turn— he’ll fuck you till he breaks you. How romantic

Presses your head into the bed with his foot, fucking you deep and swinging his hips into your ass, causing ripples to form with every thrust, angling right into your sweet spot that has you yelping into the mattress. You’re on your 4th orgasm already, overstimulated, tears and saliva wetting the bed while you mewl for him.

“Already fucked you stupid huh? Pretty bitch will take aaaanything I give ya, won’t you birdie?” He snickers at the state of you, harshly smacks your ass and rails into you. Stretching you out till you’ve taken all of him and it makes you hiccup. Doesn’t stop till you’ve cum atleast once.

And then it’s worse, he’ll let you bite into his forearm when he’s got you in a chokehold, barley able to breath, cunt clamping and pulling him like a vice because you can’t think, you can’t talk— all that’s on your mind, is ‘Simon, simon, Simon’

“Yeah, I’m alll you need luvie, all you ever wanted” he grunts, working himself in and out of your velvety walls, “Aww, said ya couldn’t take it but look at this honey,” and he rams up into you repeatedly, his mushroom tip bruising against your cervix. He shush’s you when you moan too loud, lets you hear the smack of his balls against your pussy and just how wet you are.

“Such a slutty fuckin pussy.”

Simon who has to top his loving making off with a Cherry, rubs your puffy clit with his thumb. You yell out a moan, trying to shove at his hand to move but he’s not stopping, circling his thumb around the bud till you hips buck, “Can’t- ‘s too much!—“ “—Bloody hell, shut the fuck up.” Cock slut, you cum just from that alone, eyes rolling to your skull, groaning while water squirts out of your cunt and onto the bed as your walls clench around Simon.

The blonde paints your walls, spurt after spurt filling you, bending you over while he makes you take every drop. Simon brushes your hair out of the way, kissing your back, patting your over stuffed tummy just before you pass out.

“My pretty fuckin girl, love you so much baby.”

[stupiddumbbunnies]

okay guys i’m sorry for ghosting yall. i’m posting soon i swear!!! 💔💔💔🙏🏽

[stupiddumbbunnies]

When tumblr refreshes itself and the fic I was reading fucking disappears forever 💔

I’ve been searching for a smau I was reading for three days 😔

[stupiddumbbunnies]

[stupiddumbbunnies]

huge, intimidating men who relax their posture and soften their voice whenever they speak to you 😔

[stupiddumbbunnies]

the amount of times I check my tumblr everyday is unhealthy

[stupiddumbbunnies]

*gets two notes*

heh.. seems this post was a hit with the tumblr baddies... woah, woah, one at a time! i cant be everywhere at once people!

[stupiddumbbunnies]

if you love me then why do you never call?

[stupiddumbbunnies]

[stupiddumbbunnies]

Sweet thing is such a good pet name imo

i agree anon

[stupiddumbbunnies]

everyone, send asks of your favorite pet names for the next fic.

(princess is banned over here.)

[stupiddumbbunnies]

The Weight of saying it

Probably will hate Mr. Riley himself after this but HEY.. me personally I would've fucked him up

You can feel it before he even opens his mouth. That something-isn’t-right feeling. That cold, heavy pressure in your chest. Like the air’s gone stale. Like the earth’s tilting and no one told you to brace yourself.

He’s standing in the doorway, hands clenched at his sides. Boots still on. Jacket unzipped. Like he couldn’t decide if he was coming or going, just ended up here out of instinct.

Your place. Yours. The only place he’s ever been able to breathe.

“Hey,” you say, voice tentative, because he hasn’t looked at you yet. “Everything alright?”

His jaw ticks. Just once. He finally lifts his head. Looks at you. And that’s when it sinks in. No, it’s not alright. Matter of fact, everything is far from alright.

You sit up straighter on the couch. The TV still flickers behind you, some movie you stopped paying attention to ages ago. The whiskey glass in your hand suddenly feels too warm. Too small. Placed aside subconsciously. 

And then he says your name. Soft. Brittle. Like it’s the first time it’s hurt him to say it.

“I need you to let me say this before you say anything back.”

You freeze, just accepting this would be the kind of confession that might shatter whatever world still exists between you.

“I’ve fucked up before,” he starts, voice low, cracking just slightly. “I’ve made bad calls. Hurt people. Lost people. But this—”

He drags a hand down his face. Rubs at his eyes like he’s trying to scrub them clean of the last twenty-four hours. Of the weight he’s carried into your home.

“This is different.”

“There’s someone else,” he says.

You stare at him. You stand up, your body moving faster than your mind ever did. You just step back, and stare at the man in front of you, hoping he doesn't say the words you thought you’d never hear.

The syllables echo. Empty. Hollow. Until they start to land—sharp, jagged pieces breaking open inside your chest.

He sees it. Hears the sharp breath you take, the soundless recoil. But he powers through it, like a man walking into the fire he lit himself.

“She doesn’t mean anything to me. I need you to know that first.”

“It was one time. One night. After a deployment. We weren’t... We weren’t good then. I thought—” He cuts himself off. “No excuses. Just the truth.”

You blink, slow. Your body’s trying to catch up with your mind. But your mind is... blank. Like your brain short-circuited and your heart got left to bleed out on the carpet. You breathe in and press your hands to your thighs like grounding will stop the shaking.

It doesn’t.

He finally meets your eyes. And his voice gets even quieter. “She’s pregnant.”

Silence. That’s all there is. Thick and awful and final.

You feel heat rise to your face. Not anger. Not yet. It’s just humiliation.

Because you didn’t see this coming. Because you let yourself believe he was yours. Because somewhere deep down, you believed that what you had was... solid. Sacred.

“She told me last week,” he says. “I needed to be sure before I came to you. Got the test. It’s real. I’m gonna be a father.”

You tilt your head down and laugh. Disbelief. A sharp, empty exhale that surprises even you. But nothing’s funny. It’s shock.

The tears don’t come right away. They just build like pressure, like static. Like grief. Grief for something that hasn’t even ended yet, but already feels dead.

“I didn’t love her. I don’t love her. I’ve only ever—” He steps forward. “It’s always been you.”

And when you finally speak, your voice isn’t cruel. It isn’t screaming. It’s quiet. Hollow. You look at him, theres nothing behind your eyes, he’s not used to it. Never seen it before. Like he just blew the fuse holding you together.

“Why are you here?”

His eyes widen. “Because I—”

“No,” you cut in. “Why are you here, Simon?”

He finally kneels in front of you. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that you can see the rawness in his eyes. The pain. The regret. The shame.

You look at him now—really look. His face, the lines in it, the panic behind his eyes. You’ve never seen him like this. And somehow, it makes it worse.

“Are you here because you love me?” you ask, voice tight. “Or because you’re scared of what loving her would mean?”

He shakes his head, fast, like denial alone could fix this.

“There is no her,” he says. “There never was.”

“Except now there is,” you snap, and your voice finally breaks. “Because you made sure of that.”

He goes silent.

And you hate how much he still looks at you like you’re something he wants to protect.

“This isn’t about my career. Or my past. It’s about us,” he says.

“Do you know what it’s like,” you say, the tears finally slipping free, “to stand here and feel second to something that should’ve never happened?”

“I’m man enough to own this, but I’m beggin’ you—don’t walk away without hearin’ me say it one more time. I love you.”

“I waited for you,” you whisper. “I chose you. Again and again, even when you were hard to love, even when you disappeared into yourself and left me wondering if I was enough.”

“You are enough,” he says, voice breaking.

You shake your head. “Not if I have to compete with a fucking baby, Simon. Are you even hearing yourself?”

He swallows hard. Looks down at his hands—those same hands that held you, protected you, pulled you out of every fight like you were something sacred.

Now they just tremble.

The silence that falls is different now. It’s loud. Thundering. Your voice drops to a near-whisper.

“I would’ve taken anything from you, Simon. Anything. Pain. Distance. Even heartbreak. But not this.”

You don’t realize you’re moving until your legs carry you. He doesn’t follow.

Good. Because if he touches you now, you don’t know what you’ll do.

“You broke something,” you say, arms wrapped tight around yourself like you’re holding your ribs together. “And I don’t think you even understand how deep that goes.” You feel physically sick.

He opens his mouth.

“No,” you say quickly, backing up a step. “Don’t. Not right now.”

He’s still kneeling, still watching you like he’s waiting to be punished.

And that makes you ache in some twisted, wrong way, because you can see how sorry he is.

But sorry doesn’t put your heart back together.

Sorry doesn’t unmake a child.

Sorry doesn’t mean he’s not hers now too.

You walk past him. Not fast. Not loud. Just... done.

You pause near the hallway, hand resting on the wall to steady yourself. Your chest rises and falls with the effort of holding it together.

“You need to go,” you say softly.

He still doesn’t move.

“Please, Simon.”

It’s the “please” that does it. The crack in your voice. The finality.

He rises slowly, like gravity’s doubled in strength. You don’t turn around, but you hear the door open. Hear him hesitate. And then you hear it close.

You sink to the floor. With a fucking knife to your chest.