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gilverrwrites · 3 months

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How are you? I love your fics ❤️ and kept having this idea in my head.

Dick Grayson when he discovers early in their relationship, she never had someone give her head before. Like she’s getting all shy at her confession and says it’s nothing, but Dick doesn’t undermine her and says when she’s ready, he will make it SO memorable. This conversation always is at the back on her mind and after some time pass in their relationship, she is ready and he makes her sit on his face??? Like why is this so hot? Ofc, she will be insecure at first and wouldn’t want to suffocate him , he just really guides her through it but like more in a gentle rom way. Just imagine her experiencing like the most intense orgasm while also gaining self confidence and squirting for the first time too ?! 🤭

Memorable

Dick Grayson/F!Reader, 2.1K words AN: I’m well, thank you for asking, I hope the same can be said about you. Thank you for sharing, this is such a hot and sweet idea. When I started, I was just planning short blurb type response, but I guess it kind of got away from me. CW: First time cunnilingus, soft dom Dick (if you squint), dirty talk, swearing, hair pulling (Dick receiving), praise, squirting/female ejactulation, petnames: baby, good girl, pretty girl, perfect girl.

18+ MDNI

On the surface, Dick is the perfect gentleman about it, excluding his flabbergasted initial response.

“What? Never?” Followed by the even denser question; “Because you never had the opportunity? Or just never wanted to?” As if it mattered a whit either way.

But after that, he apologises for his reaction. He takes your hand, stares at you with those deep-set blue eyes that have always seen you, with that smile that soothes you and promises; “When… if you let me be your first, I promise I’ll make it worth it. We’ll make sure it’s memorable together.”

And then it’s ’forgotten’, he doesn’t bring it up, doesn’t talk about it unless you do. Ostensibly, the perfect gentleman, not wanting to scare you off with his enthusiasm, because on the inside he’s feral, obsessed with the idea of potentially being the first man to savour the taste of your hot, wet folds, to make you coo and pant and wither with just his mouth, to make you cum all over his face, fuck. All of it makes him hard as a rock in an instant.

The night you finally commit is nerve-racking for you both because you’ve built the moment up in your minds for so long. But Dick is determined to make this one of the greatest sexual pleasures of your life, and you trust him completely, that still, however, does not absolve all of your unease.

You’re already curled up together on the bed, in repective states of undress when you tell him you’re ready. His body immediately grows stiff, radiating excitement. He abandons his attack on the soft spot of your neck to examine your expression, you stare at each other, searching for reassurance, and find only dilated pupils and heavy lids.

“You’re sure?” He checks, and you instinctively nod. His eyebrow twitches upward, and you know he’s going to say something about using real words, so you beat him to the punch. “I’m sure!”

He grins at you, sparkle in his eyes before he’s climbing into position, moving all the pillows away from the headboard and settling in the now empty space, he taps his cheeks and instructs you to; “Come on up.”

It’s a silly attempt at adding humour to the situation, but you find yourself suddenly filled with doubt and stuttering. “You want me to sit on your face?” You’d thought you might start with a less constraining position. “Won’t that be uncomfortable, for you?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “And if it does get uncomfortable, I’ll tap your leg 3 times, sound good?”

“Okay, sounds good.” You agree, still hesitant, but Dicks eagerness is contagious, the way he’s watching you with those lust-filled eyes makes you want to give him whatever he wants, and he’s never failed to deliver in the bedroom depart previously, so you hitch your leg and situate your knees either side of his head, your cunt hovers just above his face.

It isn’t until you feel his long, calloused fingers hook into your underwear and shift them to the side that you even realise you’d forgotten to remove them. You make to apologise, but he distracts you by running his index finger between your folds, lingering over your clit, he adds his middle finger and pulls apart your lips, exposing your entrance.

“Fuuuckk.” He breathes, “Such a pretty pussy. Can you bring it closer for me?”

Fuuuckk is right. The genuine affection in his voice has you nearly trembling as you lower yourself until you feel his warm breath brushing between your legs, the combination of air on moisture making the area tingle, but Dick’s still not satisfied.

“You don’t need to worry. It’s not too different to things we’ve done before. I’m only going to put my fingers in here.” To demonstrate his point, he sheaths one finger inside you in one quick motion and pumps it in and out, gradually building speed each time. “You like that, don’t you?”

“Oh, god, yes!” You confirm, unconsciously rocking your hips, trying to coax him deeper inside you.

“Yeeahh.” He hums, pressing the bud of his thumb against your clit, immediately sending a wave of pleasure through you in a way that makes you flinch. He chases your body with his hand, maintaining the friction between your legs. “And I’m gonna use my mouth here, sometimes I’ll swap but it’s gonna feel just like this, only better. I promise.”

Then his hand is gone, its withdrawal leaving you ten times needier than you had been when he’d started. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself before settling further down, you don’t stop until you can feel his nose poking between your lips. You’re rewarded by the muffled sound of Dick’s voice praising you from below; “Good girl.” Then one hand locks onto your thigh, not hard enough to force you in place, but firm enough to convey the message.

From there, you’re partly expecting an assault, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Dick slowly works his tongue from your entrance to your clit, letting out a lewd, glutaral groan in the process. “You taste so sweet.”

If you weren’t already flushed, that would have done it. You open your mouth to thank him, but as you do so he latches his mouth around your clit and sucks. That does not feel like anything you’ve done before, but it does feel fantastic. All you manage is a whimper as you clench your fists into the top of the headboard to ground yourself.

You hear a wet pop as Dick releases his suction, and returns to lapping at your sweet spot, eliciting shorter and raspier pants from you with each flick and circle of his tongue. He’s experimenting, changing up the pressure, alternating between slick darts with the tip of his tongue, and wet, sweeping motions that seem to consume your entire core until he finds the perfect move-set that has your toes curling and your hips bucking. An orgasm is quickly building, blood boiling, clit aching when he pulls back, sinking lower on the bed to slip his tongue into your entrance before you hit your precipice.

Stunned at the sudden change, you look down at him, he peeks out from between your legs, eyes fierce, amused in a way that sends a chill down your spine. Without warning he replaces his tongue with two fingers, plunging much deeper than he had the last time, and spreading them out to push against your walls despite their resolve to clench around him.

He loves the way you look right now, flustered, frustrated, lost to anything but his touch. He wants to push, to tease you more, wants to refuse to let you cum until you really ride his face, until you beg, but he’s worried about taking things too far on your first time, because most of all he wants you to feel good and comfortable. Not to mention, if he plays his cards right, makes this easy and unforgettable; you’ll want more, and then he can have his way. So, he settles for ghosting kisses along the soft skin of your inner thigh and says the only other thing that’s on his mind without filter; “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna make you cum. I’m gonna make you cum so hard no one else will ever compare.”

You’re so blissed out, rocking back and forth on his fingers, he’s not even sure you heard him. He wells with pride for a moment, his pretty girl so fucked out already, glowing under a sheen of sweat, all because of him.

“Did you hear me?” He accentuates his point by slowing his fingers and you whine as you lazily nod at him, upper body heavy and disjointed as your lower half keeps trying to fuck itself.

“Yes, Dick.” The distress in your voice is music to his ears, it makes his already hardened cock throb. Pleased by your reaction he presses his thumb to your clit, simulating the motions he’d used earlier. “P-please.”

“You don’t have to beg, baby.” But it's highly appreciated, if your mind was less fuzzy from the dual simulation you might have noticed the way he laughs when he talks. “Have you ever squirted before?”

It’s so hard to answer when he makes you feel so good, when all you can think about is how much better this would feel if he used his mouth again. Knowing the only way that will happen is by answering, you muster all the brain capacity you have left to shake your head and stammer; “No… Tried but couldn’t do it myself.”

“Can you shift onto your feet for me? That’s it.” He coos. It kills you to pull away because you already feel so good, but he watches you with so much adoration as you follow his instructions it makes your heart feel as fuzzy as your puffy clit, makes it bearable. “Just like that, perfect, my perfect girl.”

You can’t lower yourself as much in this new position, but that doesn’t seem to bother Dick who latches his mouth back onto your clit, re-finding this rhythm in an instant and filling your swollen centre with a third digit. He moans repeatedly into your folds as he works, loudly savouring your taste, memorising every fold and spasm. He alternates between sucking and lapping until the most incredible, white-hot feeling begins to surge through your body. You throw your head back, eyes squeezed shut, hands haphazard abandoning the headboard in favour of Dicks soft black hair.

Just when you think things can’t possibly feel any more intense you feel the turning point, the undeniable feel of Dick smiling into your folds is followed by the deliberate curl of his fingers, brazenly rubbing your g-spot in long, fast strokes, exiting you completely and plummeting right back to the bundle of nerves each time until it hits you.

“D-Dick I-” Your climax washes over you before the words can leave your lips. Your muscles grow tense, nails biting into your palms through the trestles of Dicks hair you’re clinging onto. Your chest is heaving, and you couldn’t lift your lids long enough to look at the stream of watery cum flowing out of you if you wanted to.

You know it’s a lot, it’s wild, because you can feel droplets of it splash back onto your stomach, can feel it pooling into the limited space between your searing, sensitive skin, and Dick’s face. He hasn’t let up for a second. Intent on riding you through your high and soaking up as much of you as he can manage. Even when you’re over the hump, he keeps going, noisily slurping at your dripping, oversensitive heat. It’s hard to tell if you’re shaking from the intensity of your orgasm, or the continued abuse of your oversensitive cunt.

“Dick?” You call, weakly pulling at his scalp. He gets the message, finally detaching from your southern regions and shuffling from between your legs until you can get a good view of his face.

His hairs askew, cheeks pink, pupils seemingly even more dilated than they had been when you started, if at all possible. Every inch of skin from the tip of his nose to his nipple’s sheens under a mixture of spit, slick, and cum, and he’s staring at you like he’s a man starved. “I’m not done yet.”

Your bedroom flies by in a blur as Dick plants his hands on your thighs and uses them to support you while he rolls you back and between his legs. His member brushes against your folds briefly, sparking yet another ripple of arousal you didn’t think your body could muster amongst its already frenzies post-orgasm overexcitement, but as soon as you feel it, it’s gone again. You catch a glimpse of Dick rearranging it, tucking it low and out of the way before he crawls between your open legs again.

“I promised you it would be memorable.” He reminds you, leaning in closer. He grips onto the now drenched pair of panties he’d hiked to the side earlier and finally removes them before licking a testing strip from bottom to top just like the first time, enjoying greatly how wet and puffy it is, how you can’t keep from shivering, how you breath catches. “You did so good baby, but I’m not gonna stop eating your perfect pussy ‘til one of us can't stand it any more, an’ it’s not gonna be me.”

#gilverrwrites #dick grayson #dick grayson/reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing/reader #nightwing x reader #dc #smut

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snailsgoingdowntown · 8 months

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Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead's Sister in Law!

Re-upload due to complications.

Chapter 1

Dion x Fem! Reader

Warnings: possible yandere themes, arranged marriage, toxic relationship, slight incestual themes due to the content of “Roxana,” blood, mention of murder

Nsfw warnings: Lost of virginity (both parties?), fingering, oral (fem receiving), spit, reader does NOT get to finish, vaginal pain, HEAVY DUB/CON.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the harmful and dangerous actions/behaviors that takes place in this piece of fiction. These actions/behaviors should not be normalized or romanticized as they are extremely toxic and dangerous.

Minors/blank/blogs that don’t reblog fanfiction dni and don’t span like my posts or you will be blocked.

Overall story summary: you reincarnated into one of your favorite novel-turned-webtoons. However, you didn't want to become the female lead's sister-in-law...

Word count: 4542k

===

“The Way to Protect the Female Lead’s Older Brother,” also known as “ROXANA” was a rather dark novel that was adapted into a webtoon. And as luck would have it, the webtoon wasn’t finished, and you don’t remember all the details of the fan translated web novel you found online.

Now, why would that be a problem? Simple:

You reincarnated into it. Not as a main character, or even a servant to one of the families. You weren’t a child of Lant’s or one of his many wives. You weren’t a friend to one of his children, either. Instead, it was worse than most of what was listed.

Whatever God you managed to piss off had a silly little, petty revenge plan that was straight out of a third-rate horror novel with teenage girls fawning over it. And truthfully, if written right, the non-existent novel would have been a banger – but no, instead it was anything but. Or maybe you only really think that because of your position in this world, where your birth was simple, but painful for your mother, and you were lucky enough to be born into a family that loved and cared for and about you.

It was a noble family, to boot. Wealthy enough to live a comfortable life. Two siblings – an older sister who was already married at the age of thirty with a child on the way. The other was a 12-year-old boy who made it his life mission to be the most annoying little piece of shit on earth.

But as you lay on your back, hands holding your nightgown in place, all you could think about was how small Dion Argece makes you feel. The wedding ceremony just finished up hours ago, and here you are, back pressed against silk sheets as your now-husband hovers over you.

(Name) Argece.

What a horrible name and cruel faith.

Inky black hair that falls into his carmine red eyes that held indifference. His wedding-tux was still on, even the outer jacket with the silly lone rose in his pocket. Oh, what a shame – to be married to such a handsome man only for him to be obsessed with his sister and emotionally unavailable.

God despises you.

“Close your eyes if you’re uncomfortable.”

He unbuttons his outer jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and tosses it to the side. You should close your eyes, you think, because his face was nothing but stone. Not even a condescending grin. He doesn’t comfort you, either – at least not in the typical sense.

“Keep still,” his gloved hands grab your thighs and you let him open them, creating space for him to get closer. You want to push him away and run. But what good would that do? Why couldn’t the man just slice something and claim that the blood on the sheets was from your first night?

“I’m scared.” You speak without thinking, becoming stiff as his hands traveled from your outer thigh to the inner, creeping underneath your nightgown. His gloves feel cold and uncomfortable, touch borderline rough. “I – I need a moment. Please?”

He tilts his head, giving it thought. After a moment he removes himself, but annoyance radiates off him. Your heart beats faster as the second’s pass. You remain on your back. The ceiling is painted white, no decorations and the room was bare saved for a dresser, closet, mirror and a random chair by the window.

You will be sleeping in here, from now on.

“Can’t do it? Then don’t.” he’s annoyed, surely, otherwise he wouldn’t look at you like you were an insect. What a wonderful way to start the newlywed life. But it’s not that easy to walk away, and while it sounds like he’s giving you a say-so, he isn’t; if you don’t consummate your marriage tonight, then…

“… I’m sorry. It’s my first time and I heard there would be pain.” You shouldn’t have to explain yourself. But Dion wasn’t exactly known for his… compassion. Or basic human emotions, either.

If this was someone else, would you be able to do it? Where did everything go wrong? This didn’t happen in the novel; Dion didn’t get married. There wasn’t a grand wedding with the Five Ruling Families in attendance. Nor was there a steamy scene with this man throughout the novel, not even in the side stories.

How did you end up here?

“Then relax.” If you weren’t scared of losing your life you would have run him over. It affects everything! Then again, it wouldn’t matter to him – this is a duty. Not something he wanted, you’re sure, and even if he did it would only have his best interests in mind.

“… I’m ready.” You don’t answer him, because it would only lead to a one-sided argument. Even a wall listens better. Despite your wishes, Dion does the same as last – settles in-between your legs, and this time, you close your eyes.

“Good. Try to relax or it won’t fit.” Your cheeks burn at that, mind already picturing how it would look. Many men say things like that, even in your old world. It’s just a thing they said, like with many things. It doesn’t really mean anything, because if it did then…

His gloves are still on, cold and grip tight on your thighs. You were hoping he would be gentler. But as his hands travel up and up until they’re pulling at the edges of your underwear to slide them down, you realize he won’t.

There’s no slickness down there, your underwear dry and vagina even drier. You peek through your eyelashes, watching as he inspects the article of clothing. He tosses it a few seconds later.

“I’m only going to ask once – would you rather keep your clothes on or off?” It seems that with every second reality just hits harder and harder. This was going to happen. Nothing could stop it. And if hypothetically, if he were to stop this, what then?

Even if he sliced an arm to fake the night, what about later? A baby, Lant wants Dion to have a child. No. You couldn’t do that to a child, especially yours.

“On. Please.” You expect him to just shove in a finger or two, watching as your body jerks in pain. Instead, he lifts your hips until your bottom was off the bed and flips the flimsy skirt up. And then there’s a glob of something wet and gooey, legs twitching as it lands on your bare cunt.

“D – did you just… spit?” steading yourself on your arms, you look on in disbelief as your husband just spat on your pussy. A string of saliva hangs from his tongue.

Instead of answering you, much less look at you, his thumb comes into play and spreads his saliva over the surface of your cunt. It’s only when his thumb swipes over your clit do you let out a shaky breath.

Maybe he was feeling generous or maybe he was curious. Dion decided to rub the twitching nub over and over until your legs twitch and cunt clenched around nothing. The glove made it uncomfortable, but even so, you just tried your best to focus on the pleasure. You weren’t sure if he would give you pleasure like this again.

“You’re enjoying this,” he retreats his hand leaving your twitching and needy clit lonely.

A pathetic whimper escapes as you watch your husband take his glove off with his teeth. This man is everything you fear and more, a character that you should have never met. Yet the sight of him lowering his head to lick a long stride against your slit has your legs shaking.

His tongue is warm and slimy, causing your hands to clench the sheets as your head falls back. Another lick and another until it’s flicking your clit back and forth, sending warmth throughout your body. However, despite the pleasure he’s giving you, his grip is still tight, almost painful on your hips.

Your heartbeat doesn’t slow down as he continues. Your fear barely dies down in your chest, even as the tip of his tongue teases your entrance. You shut your eyes tight, a breathless gasp leaving your lips as he thrusts his tongue into your cunt.

“It feels – “a pause as you catch your breath, “weird, it feels really weird and – “

Dion repeats the action until you’re a trembling mess, sensitive from your mental state and the current oral sex you’re receiving. It’s hard to focus on either one, your mind constantly reminding you that you’re in a novel, about to fuck a man who’s jaded and possibly has a thing for his sister –

“Ah… wait, that’s a lot…” he decides to go further, bringing his thumb back and rubs loose circles into your clit. He’s still eating you out, but not like a man starved like you read in erotic novels.

Even so, your husband keeps at it. If it was a good or bad thing was up for debate – on one hand, while it does feel good, everything is moving too fast, your pleas for slowing down falling on deaf ears. It really is a lot, tongue fucking you while those loose circles on your clit become tighter, rougher. Should you just lay back and take what he gives?

Your mother would probably say so. Your sister would just pat your head and smile like it was expected. Normal. Take what he gives, especially if it benefits you in any way.

“…?” your eyes open at his tongue leaving your cunt with a saliva trail, his eyes glued to your twitching sex. His thumb also stops rubbing circles, instead going back to grip your hip as your back starts to become sore. Your ass is still off the bed and if he keeps you hosted up like this, then you really will snap in half.

But then he locks eyes with you.

“I thought you were scared.” Dion doesn’t let you respond, either because he doesn’t care or because it would ruin the ‘mood.’ He latches his mouth to your poor, abused nub instead. And sucks.

“H-hey!” one hand supporting you while the other grabs at his hair, you didn’t expect him to throw your legs over his shoulders. “That’s enough, really, no need to – ugh…” his mouth was warm and soft, but it sends your nerves on fire.

Good. Bad. Good. Bad.

Good, bad, does it matter anymore?

He sucks harder and your fingers tug harshly at his hair. You kick your legs but are unable to tell if it’s from pleasure or the flight or fight response he’s causing you. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t bat an eye, making it his life mission to suck you dry.

“Ah – wait, Dion – “

It’s at your whine of his name does he finally, finally stop, a ‘pop’ when he detaches his mouth from your sensitive and bullied clit. Your husband decides to lick one last long stripe from your entrance to your clit, all the while making eye contact with you. Your chest heaves as your mind settles, arousal overthrowing your thoughts.

“What is it?” Monotone, his voice is monotone and he’s not even out of breath. Your mother lied, there’s not even a hint of pink across those cheeks. It’s fine, though – no, it’s not, it’s baffling how steady he seems when your back is about to break, and you can’t even breathe.

Your eyes travel from his to his hair, where your hand is still grasping the strands. Mind still catching up to your body, you let go and draw your hand back, covering your eyes with it. Your entire body is shaky and legs sore. You’re not used to this position.

“It – it’s enough.” Your husband lets you pull your legs back, feet pressing against his broad shoulders as you bring them back down. The relief is almost immediate, a pleasurable and relief-filled sigh leaving your chest. You allow yourself to rest for a bit, your sensitive cunt and sore legs screaming for it.

“… O – okay, I think, I think that’s fine. Excuse me…” gently, you pull one leg up until your foot is flat against the bed. With a shudder, you trace your entrance timidly with two fingers, getting used to the touch. You’re not sure of how big he was, but you’ll use three fingers just in case.

You gape like a fish when his hand reaches out, grabbing yours roughly. You didn’t even notice the dip in the mattress as Dion got closer on his knees, face inches away from yours. Oh God, now what –

“What are you doing?” clearly annoyed, Dion doesn’t let you look away – not that you were going to – free hand grabbing your face, pointer finger and thumb on each cheek. It’s barely loose enough to leave no bruises. It hurts regardless.

“I – I was… prepping…” part of you wants to pretend that this man doesn’t know how to comfortably prepare you for pentation with his… but you know better. Because an inexperienced man wouldn’t know how to do things with his tongue like that, or where the clit was because –

“Are you still scared?” The hand that was holding yours releases it, opting to sneak its way to your cunt. His fingers were larger than yours, nimbler as they stroke your labia minora. Are the shivers washing over you from nervousness or arousal?

“… I’m scared of the pain.” By instinct, you knew he meant more than scared of sex – if you feared him. Still.

It doesn’t need to be said.

“Scared of the pain?” His eyes glow in the moonlight, bright red with absolutely no emotion. “Why?” he doesn’t break eye contact as his fingers inch closer to your entrance, stroking the opening, making your legs jolt. What a horrible man.

You remind yourself that this man only felt fear as a child – and even then, it probably wasn’t for very long. Nothing lasts for long, in this estate.

“Because I hate it.” You don’t break eye contact either, breathing in when one finger slowly sinks in, your walls now stretching uncomfortably. It’s not as painful as you thought it would be, your wetness mixed with his saliva making it easier. Your nails are about to rip holes in the silk sheets.

Like a curious animal, he tilts his head, curling his finger. It doesn’t feel good, it hurts, but you endure it even when you wince. Dion decides it would be a good idea to spread your legs a bit further, and like a bug, crawls between them even more. You hiccup when he adds a second finger.

They’re bigger than yours, they reach deeper. In your old world, did it feel like this too? You can’t remember.

“It’s going to hurt worse if you don’t let me finish this. Relax your legs before it hurts worse.” Pressure builds in your eyes, but you fight it off. “Save your tears for when it matters.”

You’re tired of him already.

He doesn’t move them, at first. It’s almost like he expects this, because as you adjust to something foreign inside you, he starts to rub at your clit, again. Softly this time, touch firm enough to feel but not hard enough to hurt. Or maybe you’re lying to yourself because you’re wincing, still.

When he starts to thrust them in and out, you force yourself to look at the ceiling, scared to see the expression on his face. You also don’t want to watch the show, scared it’ll already be bloody. Just a bit.

“It’s tight.” He states it like it’s the morning news. “And wet.” Your cheeks burn with both shame and embarrassment, shutting your eyes.

“… ugh…,” groaning, your hand reaches out to grab his wrist. “It hurts, a lot.” You sit up, back against the headboard, avoiding your husband’s gaze. Unfortunately, by doing this, your eyes land on your messy hole, light blood on his fingers as he pulls them out only to thrust them in again.

“It’s normal. The more you resist the worse it gets.” You give up, letting him do as he pleases, shutting your mouth.

The fingering still hurts as the minutes go by, but little by little the pressure eases down and when he arches his hand, he hits something soft and spongy. He’s rewarded the sight of your head banging against the headboard once, shoulder tense as you bite your bottom lip.

If only you could see that look in his eyes.

“Here?” He repeats the action, faster this time. You only nod your head, lips ajar, tongue swiping over them. Your hips have a mind of their own, raising as the heel of his hand rapidly smacks against your clit with his thrust of his hand.

You’re half there mentally and halfway in heaven, momently forgetting just who was here with you, who room this belonged to, and your entire situation to begin with. “Oh - wait, it’s a lot but – “

A third finger is added, and it starts to sting again. Another wince, another groan, but your arousal helps to keep the pain to minimum. All three fingers curl to hit that special spot that makes you see blacked out stars and pussy clench. All the while light blood coats his fingers, a sight he’s already used to due to his lifestyle.

It’s only when he pulls his hand away completely do you return from the skies, a small layer of sweet coating your forehead. Your hands are shaky as you look at him, only to be drowned back into reality when you’re met with those red, indifferent eyes that glow brighter than the moon.

“If you’re ready, lay on your back and spread your legs.” He undoes his pants while saying this, scooting back to give you some room.

With a heavy heart, you do so, laying on your back and spread your legs. You were fine just moments ago, so why is your heart leaping out of your throat rather than staying in your chest? Maybe it was because of the pleasure, or…

You’re scared, again.

You don’t look when something fat and heavy plops onto your pelvis. You don’t look when he brings you closer by your thighs. You don’t look as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds, catching on your clit.

“Relax or it won’t fit,” he reminds you before pushing the fat head in. At first, it’s a sting no bigger than an ant bite. But then another inch goes in, and you feel like a sword is cutting you straight up open, your legs tensing and hands grasping his forearms in a futile attempt to stop him.

Your nails dig into his sleeves, and you can feel the skin underneath. The tears build up as your face becomes hot, taking in deep breaths like it would soften the intruding body part.

“Big – it’s too big, it’s not going to fit – “

“… You look cute when you cry.” It’s sinister, teasing and everything that makes your stomach drop. His thumb wipes away your tears that’s already staining your skin. But he stops regardless, if only to shut you up if nothing else.

You think a few minutes pass but it’s hard to tell when he’s still inside, pulsing and you could feel every vein on his cock. It’s thick, it’s big and you don’t think you’re equipped to handle it, handle him. He’s everything that ruins your sense of self, that makes your dreams shatter and fear rot you from the inside out.

But he’s your husband…

But he’s your husband.

“Relax,” he inches in deeper, slower this time, but not letting you get a word in. Your nails dig deeper, and if it weren’t for his shirt, you would have drawn blood. Another inch, another gasp that leaves you breathless, grasping for anything that could keep you grounded. The only thing you could grab was him, however.

“Dion, Dion, you’re going to break me, I can’t – I can’t – “

“You can. You have to.” Was his voice raspy, just now? If so, it worries you, because you just remembered one very important detail – Dion Argece was, if nothing else, a sadist. Be it from his childhood trauma, or if he would be like this regardless of, he loved seeing Roxana cried.

It never occurred to you that he would love seeing you cry, too.

How deep was he? It feels you’re being speared open, his cock bullying its way into your virgin hole. You weren’t a virgin in your last life, but it didn’t hurt like this. It had hurt, felt like you were being ripped, but not enough to make you cry and breathless.

You think you can feel blood trickling down your ass crack. “Please tell me you’re almost there, please…” sniffling, you look up at your husband, the man taking your virginity in the name of ‘marriage.’ A mirror shatters in the back of your mind.

There was a flush across his cheeks. Pupils blown wide and a small grin on his lips. He was enjoying this. Your pain, your tears and perhaps even your fear – he was enjoying this.

It would have been better if he didn’t feel anything, you think. Just a stone statue that was performing its task. But even monsters had emotions, you guess.

“I’m not. Just endure it for a bit longer – I’ll stop once I’m at the hilt.” Was he a liar in the novel? You think he was, otherwise, the overtaking of the Argece family wouldn’t have happened. Lant wouldn't be dead. But things haven’t followed the novel to a T – this was proof enough.

“You’ll stop? Like, completely? You – you took my virginity, so that should be enough. Right?”

You hate it when he keeps wiping your tears away. Or when he slides in even more, your blood coating his stupid dick. You hate it when he brings one hand to toy with your clit, granting you pleasure that was just overthrown by the smothering pain traveling up to your belly.

He doesn’t answer. And that was enough for you to rake your nails down the back of neck, drawing blood in return. He’s making you bleed, so it was only fair if you could too, right?

Deeper and deeper until his balls rest against your bottom and pelvic meeting yours. Surprisingly, your husband keeps his word, letting you adjust to the new feeling. It feels heavy. It feels like a heartbeat, like a rod that was stuck. It felt awful.

How long did it take you to get used to it, in the past? No longer than fifteen minutes max, right? No, shorter than that. Then again, it didn’t hurt this much, but that partner was more loving, more caring, gentler –

“Who are you thinking about?”

The question breaks you out of your daze. You blink, once, before you question him back. He only glares in response.

Panic fills you when he pulls out, pain still there, blood still trickling down. “Wait, you’re – “

“I’m what?” he pulls out until only the head remained inside. You try your best to ignore the bruising grip he has on your hips. You’re going to be sore tomorrow. If you survive this, anyway.

God, if you’re listening, please let this night end peacefully.

“B-big. It’s going to hurt, please don’t…” dragging your hands down from his neck to his chest, your fingers dig into his shirt.

“Hm. A shame, really; you still must give birth, eventually. It’s better to get used to it now than later.” Your mind doesn’t catch up with your body, legs tensing when he slides oh so carefully back in, like he didn’t just push your worries aside like nothing. “Relax.”

“Dion,” hiccupping, you brace yourself, head nuzzling into his chest as your hold on his shirt tightens. When he pulls back out, you could feel every detail, every vein trail, his grith truly opening you. He graces you a mercy, going at a languid pace, minimizing the pain. His thumb never stopped rubbing your clit, either.

It goes like that, for a good while. Slow and steady, your hushed sobs dying on your lips, your husband careful with his thrusts, but not his grip. It was almost comforting, in a way. But you were still scared of him, and of what will happen after this.

“… I have a proposition.”

His hips stop and your ears perk up.

“You want me to stop, correct?” Dion pulls back until he’s on his heels, his cock dragging along your walls. You wince before breathing out. He doesn’t even try to hide the sadistic look in his eye as he sees the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. He almost grins in glee.

“Y-yes…” You don’t let go of his shirt. “Why…?” there’s hope inside you, but dread starts to rot it away.

“Jerk it.”

“…what?”

He was different from the novel. Extremely so, because you doubt that Dion would suggest a thing, much less give you a choice in the matter. That Dion would have either ignored you and this night or take you as is, no mercy, no humanity granted if this took place at the beginning at the novel.

When he doesn’t repeat himself, you pull yourself up until you’re resting on your knees. The sight of blood both on his cock and the sheets make you gag and thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it. Hesitantly, you take him into your hands, fingers barely able to close around it.

It throbs in your hand.

Your blood is coating your hands now, too.

Only silence is between you, your hands working him. Your thumb swipes over his head, circling it before stroking his dick up and down. Your other hand plays with his balls, massaging them. You’re not sure how long it would take him to finish.

Your core throbs in pain, and you become worried over the thought of peeing. It would probably hurt.

You want to sleep.

Without giving it much thought, just like your husband, you spit on it, a glob of saliva falling onto the staff. It throbs harder. And when you look at him, tired eyes and drool still dripping down from your tongue, still jerking him off –

“…Ngh…”

It’s almost cute, the way sperm spurts out and makes a mess on your hands. The very small and fleeting look of embarrassment on his feature is almost enough to comfort you. But when there’s barely a sheen of sweat adoring his forehead, unlike you was still recovering, you’re reminded that your husband was different from you.

There are no kisses, no sweet nothings shared between lovers. No stroking your hair or comforting your trembling form as your legs shake. Or even an offer to warm a bath for you, the warm water soothing your body. There’s none of that.

Not even a smile.

“Welcome to the Argece family, wife.”

Instead, all that awaits you is a restless sleep on a bloodied mattress with a husband who left after cleaning himself up.

Which God despises you so much and why?

#dion agriche #dion argece #Dion x reader #yandere dion agriche #deon argece #dion agriche smut #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtptflob #deon agrece x reader

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inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 3 months

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Hi!, Could you do a Hannibal x reader fic where Hannibal is the obsessed teacher, until one day they went beyond just looking at each other and he asked him to stay after class to talk about "things", they talk for a while, until Hannibal ask if she have a bf or something, he get up and tell her that also notices how she looks him... (Can it also end with smut? If you're comfortable whit) And Hannibal could also be a little annoying? like he know she needs him then he feels good whit.

(I'm not proud of this but... I need it)

And my apologies my english isn't great

a/n: i think we all need it if we're being honest

Hannibal X Reader: Teachers Pet

Warnings: smut, teacher!Hannibal x Student! reader, penetration (p in v), Hannibal being a tease, domish Hannibal, pet names (pretty girl), dirty talk, liking older men, age gap (no specified), no use of y/n

Word count: 1,4K

Someone is talking but he isn’t looking at them. He’s looking at you. Actually he is always looking at you. It doesn't matter if someone else asked him a question or if he's lecturing, his eyes are always on you. You don’t mind it. Actually you enjoy it quite a bit because your eyes are always on him too. Maybe it's wrong to want him like this but you really can’t get yourself to care. It's not like you're actively doing something to fulfill your little fantasy. They are just meaningless glances, nothing more.

Except that they weren’t and you both knew it.

Months of stolen glances and lingering touches. Hannibal can’t take it anymore. He’ll go insane if he doesn't have you. So he asked you to stay after class. He used some excuse about your last paper, saying he wanted to talk to you about your grades and whatnot. It was a lie of course and you could tell.

“Is something wrong professor?’

You’re acting innocent, trying to figure out how far he’d willing to go with this charade.

“I wanted to talk about your grades. I’ve noticed they’ve been slipping recently. Did something happen recently?”

He pauses his eyes peeking up at you through his glasses.

“A new boyfriend distracting you from your studies perhaps?”

“No. No boyfriend.”

Hannibal hums, his eyes moving to glance at the papers on his desk. You place your palms on the edge of the table leaning forward so that you could look at the papers too.

“You’re a good student. What happened?”

“Well you could say something has been distracting me lately.”

Hannibal lifts his gaze, his eyes catching on your chest. The blouse you’re wearing isn't doing much to hide the bra you're wearing, the whitline of it is clear through the almost sheer fabric of your shirt.

“But not a boyfriend?”

You shake your head no your eyes looking at Hannibal innocently. It's a fake expression of course. You knew exactly what you were doing.

“In all honesty, professor , I shouldn't even be looking at him but I can't help it. He is very handsome.”

Hannibal's eyebrow quirk up.

“It's that so?”

“Uhum. He’s a little older too. I’ve always had a thing for older guys.”

“Have you told him?”

“No but he knows. I caught him looking at me too.”

There it is. The opening Hannibal was looking for. He gets up from his seat taking off his glasses and placing them on the desk before moving to where you are. You turn around your ass coming into contact with the desk behind you as Hannibal moves close to you. You tilt your head to look up at him. He still hasn’t touched you but you're practically buzzing with desire.

“You can’t blame him. You’re a very pretty girl.”

Hannibal's hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb moving over your lips. You open your mouth to him, taking his digits in between your lips. Hannibal bits his lips as you suck on his thumb, the sight enough to make his pants tighten. You release his thumb with a ‘pop’.

“I need you, professor.”

Hannibal let out a groan, his body launching forward. His lips move roughly against yours. He plunges his tongue into your mouth and you let him a whine leaving your lips. His hands move to grope your ass. You cling to his shirt as he lifts your body onto the desk. His body sloths against your with ease, his dick rubbing against your clothed cunt as he moves. You moan for him, your hands moving to unbutton your blouse. Hannibal stares at your chest, eyes widening as your bra is finally revealed to him. Before you can even react he’s tugging the bra down, his lips wrapping around your left breast. You throw your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you frantically buck up into him. Hannibal's hand moved to your waist forcing your hips to stop moving.

“Patience. You’ll get what you want soon.”

“Please Hannibal. I need you so bad.”

“Show me.”

You lift your hips, removing your underwear. You dip your hands into your pussy collecting the witness that's gathered there. You lift your hand up to Hannibal showing him your juices. He hums pleasantly at the sight, his pants growing tighter. He moved forward engulfing your digits with his mouth. Your mouth opens in shock as you watch him lick your fingers clean. All of his self control seems to leave him, the need to feel you wrapped around him getting to his mind. He moves away from you fingers moving to remove his belt and pull down his zipper. You lean forward on his desk watching him. Hannibal senses your gaze on him, his hands pausing for a moment. He makes his way back to you, guiding your hand to his boxers. You gasp as you feel the outline of his dick against your palm.

“Take it out for me, pretty girl.”

You do as he asks your hands moving inside his boxers to free his dick from his confines. You gasp as you feel the weight of his dick in your hand. He was larger than you had expected. You give him a stroke, your thumb moving over his head, collecting the pre cum there. Hannibal's watches you guide your thumb to your mouth, licking the pre cum off it with a smile.

That was his breaking point.

You squeal as Hannibal drags you off the desk, your ass squeaking against the wood at the rough movement. He turns you around, his hand moving to push you against his desk. Your nails dig into the desk as he begins to enter you. A moan threatens to spill from your lips but Hannibal shushes you.

“Gotta be quiet. You don’t want anyone to hear us right?”

You clench around his dick at the thought of getting caught making him smile.

“Dirty thing.”

Before you can manage a smart remark Hannibal plunges his dick into you causing your voice to leave you. Your bare breasts rub against the desk beneath you as Hannibal roughly snapped his hips into you. You want to scream but you know you can’t so instead you bite into your hand. Hannibal’s moving so fast against you you're surprised the desk hasn’t moved from its spot.

“Professor I'm close…”

His movements slowed causing you to let out an annoyed grunt.

“Why did you stop?”

Hannibal pulled out of your turning your body so that you were facing him. You look up at him eagerly. His fingers cup your cheek roughly.

“You wanna cum is that it?”

“Yes.”

“Beg for it then.”

“Please make me cum Hannibal. Please, I need it so bad!”

“Lay down on the desk and spread your legs. Wanna see that pretty face as you cum.”

You move quickly, hopping onto the desk and laying down. You place your feet against the edge of the desk giving a clear view of your folds.

“Look at that. Just begging to be fucked aren’t you?”

You nod eagerly at him.

“Use your words.”

“Yes professor. Please fuck me.”

He moved forwards entering you again. Despite his desire to tease you Hannibal couldn’t hold on for much longer. His hips move roughly against you pistoling into your pussy at a brutal pace. All you can do is lie there and take it, the pleasure is too much to cope with. You barely register your orgasm until Hannibal spills his seed into you, his fingers digging into your thighs as he lets your cunt milk him.

He pulls out of you with a grunt, his hands moving to stuff his soft dick back into his pants. You continue to lay on the desk, far too tired to move. Hannibal makes his way to you tugging your body up. You let him carry you down. Your feet hit the floor, legs wobbling a bit as you try to stand. Hannibal pulled your bra back to its original position before his hands moved to button your shirt. You stare up at him, trying to regain full control of your mind. He places his hands on your cheek smiling at you. You give him a tired grin. You watch him move over to where you threw your underwear. He grabbed it, showing it to you before putting it into his back pocket.

“A small souvenir. I’ll return it to you next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yes next time. Now get out of here, I have things to do.”

You make your way to the door feeling Hannibal's cum drip down your thighs as you make your way to your car.

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littlebluespoon · 11 months

Text

Stranded - Octo!König (Part 4)

Hello! Here's Part 4, as promised even though it's the next morning for me :)

1.5Kwords, 18+ non-humanoid sex toys and obsessive behaviour in this chapter

AO3 link

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

---

(stole pic from google sorry)

Once again, you were going weeks without properly seeing König. You’d catch his shoulder disappearing around a corner or the sound of suckers echoing in an empty hallway but no actual sightings of a giant man or bright octopus. For you, life was mostly normal. Patching up soldiers, bandaging up Soap after he gave himself happy tail again and hanging out with the rest of the taskforce while on downtime,

“Soap, you cannot rocket jump in real life. You. Would. Die.” If this had been the first time you’d had to explain this to the canine hybrid you might have had a little more patience but seeing as it was not, you were ready to throw something at him,

“But whit if we weren’ human?” Soap’s enthusiasm at least was endearing. So giving him an exasperated smile you just shook your head and moved on while noting to refill your supply of painkillers and burn salves.

It was currently just you and Soap in the small kitchenette in the taskforce’s assigned rooms, you had no patients to see and Soap had the day off given his ‘extensive injuries’ so the two of you had taken over the games console and were having a competitive tournament in Mario Kart, loser has to steal a piece of clothing from Ghost. Currently it was 2-2 and you were on the last match so now it was getting dirty,

“So was the LT around when you broke your tail?” you teased, hoping for him to take his eyes off the screen,

“Oi! At least I wasn’ the one wi’ hickeys all o’er their neck,” he fired back, smugly like he’d been expecting your teasing.

“They weren’t hickeys! …They were bruises…” you refused to look at him, knowing exactly the expression on his face having seen it far too much for your liking,

“Isnt that what hickeys are?” you decide that driving off the edge of Rainbow Road was the better option, take the loss and deal with the consequences later.

Seeing as you have 24 hours to steal from Ghost you left Soap to his gloating and went off to find out where Ghost was before breaking into his room. After finding out from a passing corporal that Ghost was in a meeting with Price, and double checking the hall was clear so no one else would catch you breaking into your superiors quarters, you picked the lock on his door before quickly running in and grabbing the first item from the laundry basket, a shirt with his name on it. Perfect for your bet, not so great if anyone else sees however. Ignoring all of that you run back to Soap, completely missing the seething bright orange octopus attached to the ceiling above you.

-----

Retreating to you room after dinner without having to take a mountain of paperwork with you was a luxury but seeing as the 141 hadn’t been called out in several weeks, you’d had plenty of time to catch up on it. Which means your plans for the night were finishing your current read and maybe starting a new one if there was time. Of course those plans depended on you getting to your room, it seemed like every four or five steps you were stopped by a Kortac soldier,

“Do you know where the colonel is?” “Do you think you could look at something for me?” “I want a second opinion on this rash,” “Could you..?” “Would you..?”

By the time you escaped them your plans of finishing your book were out the window. However as you approached your door, all your plans went out the window. There was a box outside your door, plain brown, not small but also not massive. It looked like it held a water bottle or something. The hallway was empty and there wasn’t anything to tell who had left it but given that you were on base you were pretty sure it wasn’t anything dangerous so as you closed your door you decided it could wait until after you’d gotten changed into comfier clothes and out of your uniform.

The nondescript box didn’t have much weight to it so you were expecting it was maybe mislabelled bandages or some other medical dressing so when you scored open the box you were surprised by the nice stationary. High quality textured paper, a subtle peach colour with typed lettering;

Think of me My Heart

An odd note but what was even odder was the other object in the box. A bright orange tentacle. About as big as your fist, with a marbled look of orange and teal, and made of silicon. Someone had left you a tentacle shaped sex toy. Upon recognition a yelp leaves your mouth and you’ve thrown the box across your room before you had even realised you’d moved. You know exactly who sent it, you just couldn’t understand why. You barely know each other, you don’t even think he’s said more than 10 words to you outside of missions or commands. You’re the medic on base with the most aquatic hybrid training, that’s the only reason you see him so often so why would he do this? Or maybe he didn’t, maybe it’s a prank? It could be Soap getting back at you for teasing or even Ghost for stealing his shirt or maybe even a Kortac soldier trying to rile up their colonel or something. It could have been anything, it was probably just a prank because you didn’t want to even entertain the thought that König had sent you this. He was a friend, it was a tentative relationship but you called it friendship as after everything you’d been through with him it was a little hard to just call each other acquaintances. It’s a prank, so you boxed it back up and shoved it to the back of your wardrobe to be never seen again.

Trying to get to sleep was difficult. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and every time you turned around it felt like the blankets were suffocating you. After an hour of this you decided to check your room, turning on all the lights, opening all the doors and doing a well-known routine to you. Unlock, open and check, relock. You did that with all the cupboards, you pulled your bed apart and reorganised your desk, kit bag and wardrobe. Nothing, there wasn’t a thing for you to be paranoid about and you’d made sure of it. Climbing back into bed exhausted, you settled into the blankets and closed your eyes. The blankets no longer heavy on you, the hairs on the back of your neck were soft and yet, you still felt watched.

-----

In the bright light of the morning the box looked no different and thankfully your paranoia had waned, so there was no interruption to your morning schedule. Not until you had you leave your room, which is where you found another sheet of peach coloured paper, folded next to an envelope. The fear stopped you in your tracks. Once again there was no one in sight, no noises to indicate a person either and you hadn’t heard anything while getting dressed. Deciding to deal with it before breakfast seemed like a smart decision at the time because if you’d known what was in the envelope after breakfast you were sure you’d never have kept it down;

My Dearest Heart,

You must think me a cowardly man for this but I felt this was the best way to approach you. I could not hear you last night, were you holding in your heavenly sounds so that no one else might hear? You need not worry Heart, I would never let anyone else near you. Not even the feral Lieutenant you seem so fascinated by. I do hope you liked my present and that you enjoy this one too, although I admit these were more for my pleasure.

With all My Love,

Your Soul

You could feel your heart escaping from its cage with every word you read. You were a soldier, you’d been in battle, you’d nearly died. There had been scarier moments in your life than this. So how was it this is the only time you’ve ever wanted to curl up in the back of a cupboard and never face the world again? You didn’t want to open the envelope. You never meant to open the envelop but your hands were shaking as you moved to stuff the letter with your first unwanted gift. It slipped and that’s when you discovered it wasn’t sealed and its contents had spilt all across your floor. Pictures of you were scattered across your floor. You; eating, working, training, in the gym, in the shower and even in your bed. You had been watched. Someone had been watching you for months.

#bluespoonswriting #call of duty fanfic #octo!könig #cod fanfic #call of duty x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #octo!konig #könig x you #könig x y/n

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dokkamj · 5 months

Text

ALL MINE.

-before read! THIS IS 18+ STORY MDNI

again, english is not my native language sorry for grammar errors etc, enjoy.

(i found this pic on Pinterest, i don’t know who to give credits at, sorry)

One word, forbidden.

Simon was watching you while you two were in the woods.

You were damn beautiful, how could you be so divine without doing anything?

You were to be protected at all costs, you were his without even knowing it, you don't know exactly how long this had been going on, with your superior, with your lieutenant.

But you couldn't help yourself. of him and his stolen glances, of the sweet words he whispered to you when others were turned away, when your hands caressed under the table in long meetings.

The palm of his hand on your cheek as he stroked your lips with his thumb and pulled you against him to kiss you and play with your hair.

He was damn obsessed whit you.

“how was ya’ day?” he asks you in a murmur, you wrapped your arms around his hips “good, you know i saved some life’s” you said and chuckle, he smiles at you caressing your neck.

“Oh, now don’t flatter your self” he said rolling his eyes, you were so tiny in his arms, 5’5 and he was 6’6, the difference in weight and height where noticeable, another thing that turn him on.

you two met for the first time in the field on the front lines. Simon was wounded in the shoulder for a bullet, his team dragged him to the arranged triage, and you had been the first one to notice him and take care of him back then.

the sexy medic notice him.

and even when he finds out that you where his submitted and he was your boss he couldn’t help himself breaking the rules and do what he can to put a smile on your lips.

“how about you?” you asks caressing his chin covered by his skull balaclava “hmm, a lot of paperwork’s” he muttered as he breath in your scent, his sweet little thing.

you two start to walk in the woods where Simon had his house, nothing too special but it was comfortable enough for the both of you. He make a copy of his keys for you, so when you had your days off or when you need some intimacy you can come here even without him.

It was true that you wasn’t that comfortable, still going around on your tiptoes make sure to don’t break anything.

And you take care of the house too, cleaning, change sheets, make sure that he always have his favorite whiskey on stock. You two sat on the porch on the little couch.

He pull you closer on top of him, so you where now sat on his lap, on his thick tights.

It was late afternoon, the weather was warm and there was that gentle breeze “look at ya’ so pretty” he murmur on your neck before place a kiss under your ear, you chuckle gently pressing your back against his chest.

you go grab a glass of whisky for him and an iced tea for yourself then go back to sat on him. “thank ya’ pretty girl” he said before kiss your cheek in a caring way rubbing your things with a hand and with the other sip his whisky.

“ya’know i could get used to this, me and ya’” he said as he look at you, damn you were something else “then keep being a good lieutenant for me and i won’t go anywhere” you tease him a bit with a small smirk on your face.

“oh is that so, ya’ little fucking thing” he murmur as he squeeze your tights roughly, you light up a cigarette, looking at him with your beautiful eyes, fuck he need to contain himself.

you take a drag from it and then blow the smoke on his face covered by his balaclava, he look at you “smoking is bad, a doc surely know it” he said as he take a deep breath “yeah, but i’m not in my doctor vest.” your replayed.

the sight of you with your civil clothes smoking a cigarette on his lap was making him a little too excited. Your hair wrapped in a messy bun as you wear your blue jeans and a black top, his eyes travel down to your breast, he took another sip of his whisky trying to contain himself to rip your clothes and fuck you there.

“what? a little frustrated?” you asks as you recognize his behavior, caressing his abs trough the soft material of the t-shirt that he was wearing. “careful love, you might regret it.” he said looking at you at your beauty before grab the cigarette from your lips and kiss you.

you chuckle as you pull him closer caressing his big tights with your little hands, he let out a sigh, he knows that you wanted to play, it’s been too long since you two didn’t have a nice moment alone where he can see you all naked for himself.

his jeans get tight as he look’s at your perfect face “sweet little thing wants to play yeah?” he murmur as he put down the whisky glass and grab your tights making you the sign to wrap your legs around his hips, you did it and he stand up brining you in the house, he did really wanted to get in the bedroom, but he wasn’t in the mood to wait any longer.

ripping the little black top of you and undo you bra throw it somewhere in the kitchen, exposing your perfect and round breast “fuck- look at ya’ so perfect makes me wanna shove my cock in that little cunt of yours” he whisper in your ears biting your earlobe, you moaned softly, you missed him, missed his rough hands exploring every inch of your body.

you where ovulating and it was since that morning that you want him inside of you in some way or another, but both of your superiors where around so you contained yourself, but now? no.

you pull him closer kiss his neck and nibbling on it gently as you hear him moan, he was already rock hard just seeing you smoking a damn cigarette that now was in his hands, he take a drag of it and blew the smoke away, sigh as he feels your hand undoing his belt.

“ya’ can’t even fucking wait a second yeah? need me so bad?” he asks, you bit your bottom lip feeling your underwear soaking in your humors. It wasn’t the first time that he makes you all soaked with just some little talk, but today you were more frustrate that ever, you need him, and you are not going to stop until his fat cock will stretching your walls.

“si, need you” you muttered licking his neck as you finally start to unbutton his jeans, caressing his shaft trough his boxer, he gasped, you soft hand around him, what a sight, he really can’t get enough of you.

“y/n, fuck—“ he moaned breathless as your thumb teased his head, you could see the pre-cum, he was turn on too.

you lick your own lips in anticipation as you get off from the kitchen counter and drop yourself on your knees, you want him to moan to see him weak just for you.

you licked his shaft from base to head, his hand gripped tightly the kitchen counter, your wet and warm tongue was doing an amazing job even if you didn’t even put it in your mouth yet.

“want this?” he ask as he tap his head on your tongue, “then suck you little slut.” he said as he shove his fat cock down your throat, you gagged a bit but didn’t try to back off, taking a deep breath as your gaze look at his eyes sparkling.

you suck on his head as your right hand move his shaft, he slap his hands on the kitchen counter trying hard to don’t cum in your mouth already.

“so pretty with ma’fat cock inside your mouth” he muttered as he looks down at you, gripping your hair tight in his fits pushing way down on his dick.

“Ohh- Fuck!” he moaned rolling his eyes back into his skull, you where proud of yourself when you bring him at points where the cold Ghost was just a far away memory.

you cupped his balls in your hands and squeeze it “y/n…. fuck, fuck, fuck!” he sigh as you swallow around him with tears in your eyes, it was just too much seeing you on your knees whit your mouth full of him.

he thrust in your throat then pull away from your mouth “com’here little slut, gagging me so good makes me wanna break ya’ perfect fucking body.” he murmur in your ears.

your breath still irregular but you look at him with a smirk as your lips where still tasting of a mix of your saliva and his hard dick.

“want you inside of me.” you said as he play with the hem of your blue jeans that in a seconds where throw on the floor. He makes you sit on kitchen counter whit your legs spread wide, his hand on your stomach before stroking your wet pussy trough your blue panties.

“fuck, so wet already?” he asks, sometimes he need to work you up a bit to make sure you can take him without making you hurt, the sight of your cunt cupped in his palm makes him salivate like a damn animal.

he lift aside the fabric of your underwear and shove one of his thick finger in you, you moaned all flustered, nipples hard, he start to fuck you with two fingers and you couldn’t even say anything as your moans fills the room.

his kisses travel down to your belly than on your puffy and needy cunt biting it and sucking it hard, you screamed as your hands sneak under his balaclava and take it off, he smirks “wanna see your face when you eat me.” you moaned.

squeezing his head between your tights as he devours you, his big tongue on your clit sucking and nibbling it as he fucks you whit his fingers “my girl taste so good—“ he moaned as your legs shake, sign that you where close, so he speed up his space sucking your clit even harder.

“Simon, oh god oh please—” you screamed as you came on his mouth, he licks his lips with a satisfied grin, you breath heavily feeling your body relax on the kitchen counter, but still this wasn’t enough.

he stand up quickly “taste so good almost addictive.” he murmur on your neck as he start to stroke the head of his fat cock on your needy cunt.

“can i?” he murmur just push his head inside of you making your legs shake, you couldn’t even talk, drunk of him “please sweetheart?” he asks again, he always make sure to ask, to have your green light to fuck you.

his head inside of you as he brings a hand on your lower body, pressing his thumb on your puffy clit, you swear that you almost see the stars as you moaned “talk to me y/n, please” he said as his thumb start to make circles movements.

you push yourself on his shaft, he moaned as he looks down where your body’s unite. “Si, please.” you finally said out loud, pushing yourself on him once again making him smirk.

“such a little slut ya’ are” he moaned as his first thrust was deeper than usual, your walls squeezing his fat cock as he start to fuck you slowly, but you need him all inside of you, so once again you push yourself on him.

“look at ya’ fucking yourself with my cock.” he said whit a grin on his lips before slam himself in you hardly making you scream his name “this what ya’ want huh?” he said as his hand pose on your neck squeezing it as the other one was painfully teasing your clit.

his thrust where deeper and steady “good girl, fuck—“ he moaned feeling you getting even tighter once again sign that you were probably near at your second orgasm.

“yeah babe, come on this fat cock yeah?” he said as he slaps your tights and squeeze your ass with his big rough hands, you moaned loudly once again came on him like a needy slut, you where so damn wet that your juice was dripping on his balls and on his pubic bone.

“that’s a good girl, fucking good ya’ are for me” he murmur as his thrust became more irregular and needy, resting his face on your breast, breathing your scent as he his hands keep you from move away.

another rough thrust and he pulls out of you cum on your pussy as he strokes his shaft, moaning deeply on your collar bone “Fuck y/n making me cum hard on your little cunt makes me wanna fuck you once more” he blurted out whit an irregular breath, you grab his chin making him looks at you and smirk.

“then? what are you waiting for?” you ask. “you are going to be the death of me.” he said as he slam his lips against yours.

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