Contains: dubcon, male!yandere, overstimulation, afab reader, gender neutral reader, kidnapping, forced marriage, somnophilia, manhandling, rough sex
Synopsis: Your overbearing lover doesnât make it home in time supper. Reader doesnât handle it all too well.
Word Count: 2,846
Your loverâs lifestyle kept him away from you more often than heâd like. Often times, youâd only see him at dinner, where you would have his utmost attention. It usually wouldnât be long before heâd pull you to the bedroom to make up for his absence.
You enjoyed the solitude, eager to be away from his overbearing gaze and controlling nature. You werenât here of your own volition anyhow; his strengthâboth socially and literallyâwas just too formidable to go against. You loathed the evenings, weighed down by his lustful gaze, always ending the same way; you pinned down, stuffed, and overstimulated.
Tonight was different.
You werenât sure why, but he was late. Far later than usual. Time ticked on as you watched the clock anxiously. You might resent him, but you couldnât help but worry. What was holding him up? Heâd made it a point to never miss dinner, valuing your time together too much to let anything keep him from you.
Eating in silence, such worries kept your appetite at bay. You eyed the clock and picked at your food, hardly touching it. Later, as you prepared for bedâwashing your face, brushing your teeth, putting on his favorite sheer, deep-crimson nightgownâyou felt inexplicable loneliness. Something so misplaced, you couldnât even enjoy the book you had been so eager to continue just the night before. Frustrated that you couldnât even enjoy your rare moment of evening solitude, you decided to call it an early night. If youâre lucky, heâll still be gone when you wake up next. At least this is what you tried to convince yourself, but it only worsened your anxieties.
It wasnât until much later that your lover returned, exhausted and deeply irritated at his delay. Whether it was a fight or work, he had kept you waiting, and that was unacceptable. Your time together was invaluable, and nothing could replace it.
With that thought in mind, he immediately made his way to your shared bedroom. Curled up in the sheets, chest rising and falling softly, was yourself. His steely gaze softened immediately at the sight. Swiftly, he made his way to your bedside, noting how tense you appeared. Were you so stricken by his delay this evening? Such a thought warmed him.
Softly, so as not to wake you, he stroked your cheek and brushed your hair away from your face. In moments like these, when you are most vulnerable, he feels most justified to keep the world away from you. Only his eyes should see you like this, with your lips parted ever so slightly and your hair messily framing your face.
Stripping down, not even bothering to put on night clothes, he crawls into bed beside you before pulling your sleeping form into his arms. Unconsciously, you relax into his hold, a hand finding its way to his. He smiles softly, eased by this gesture into sleep.
This is how you find yourself hours later, curled up tightly into your loverâs chest, his arms snug around you. Shifting slightly to peer at the illuminated clock on your nightstand, you could feel a hard shape pressing into your back. You tried not to think about it. Luckily for you, he rolled onto his back.
Taking in the time, you realize itâs still fairly late. For some reason, you canât help but feel disappointed. You donât want to think about it, so you settle back into bed and try to go back to sleep.
You try, becoming more and more aggravated as each second ticks by. You try counting your breaths. Perhaps itâs due to the noticeable bulge you felt earlier, but as you count, your mind starts to wander to other topics.
You canât help but imagine how his lips feel, skilled as he is with them, when ghosting over your skin. How deeply he kisses you, invading your mouth with his tongue. You imagine how his hands feel, gently and possessively ghosting your skin. How his fingers feel, curling just the right way to make you twitch and spasm.
You try to think of anything else, like that book on your nightstand waiting to be read, yet you find yourself yet again wondering how it might feel to have those rough hands pinning you down as he sinks into your soaking cunt. How would it feel to be stretched beyond your limits, a bruising grip secured to your waist?
Conflicted and unable to shake your arousal, you sneak a hand down to your aching cunt. Guiltily, your fingers find their way into your wetness, curling in the same way he does that has you seeing stars. Still, itâs not enough; it doesnât help the growing ache. Frustrated, you sit up and glance at your still-sleeping husband. A brief thought flies through your head. A thought so brief and bizarre, you would hardly ever entertain it. But youâre not in your usual headspace right now. Youâre all worked up and desperate. Itâs his fault youâre like thisâŚso itâd only be fair if he fixed it too, right?
You might try to rationalize with yourself, convince yourself to get a grip, lay back down, and simply go back to sleep. You mightâve listened if it were anybody but him beside you; the very man who youâve unwillingly been married to, who locked you away and used you as if you were his personal sex toy. Unfortunately, it seems youâre not listening to any sound advice from yourself tonight. Your body is moving before you can stop it, pulling back the blanket and situating yourself above him, legs wrapped around his waist.
You stare for a moment, taking in the sight of his already semi-hard cock. Sweet dreams, all composed of you, one can only assume. You gather some wetness from your heat before taking hold of his erection. You carefully work your hand up and down, feeling him harden with each stroke. Pre-cum dribbles down, further soaking your hand and his length.
Periodically, you look at his face, checking to see if heâs still asleep. His eyes are slightly twisted, and his lips are pressed tightly. His chest rises and falls much quicker, and with your thighs pressed against his own, you can feel how much hotter heâs grown. Your own desire grows at his subconscious arousal, spurring you on.
Pulling off your nightgown, you stroke yourself and him once more for good measure, knowing youâll need as much preparation as possible (as much as your hazy mind will allow, that is), before slowlyâever so slowlyâlowering yourself onto him. Hissing quietly at the stretch, you can feel the heat of his girthâtoo hot, too thick.
You keep sinking down, tormentingly slow, having only reached just past the tip. Try as you might, you can never get used to his size; he is large and intimidating, with thick veins and dark, neatly groomed pubes.
Unbeknownst to you, your husband lies awake, oggling you from below with lust-lidded eyes. Dark eyes take in the sight above him. He watches as you straddle his hips, wincing as you slowlyâtormentingly soâlower yourself onto him. He watches as your eyes pinch in pleasure and discomfort, hoping theyâll open to find his own lecherous ones. As your lips quiver, parting with a sharp gasp before you harshly bite down to quiet yourself, he wishes to silence you with his own lips.
He watches you, keeps watching you, not wanting this moment to end. Waking up from a particularly wet dream to find his beautiful partner so needy and desperate above him, heâs torn between simply watching or lending a loving hand.
But a man can only hold back for so long, and youâre practically torturing him, as slow as you are, so you canât blame him when his hands suddenly find purchase on your waist, pulling you down in one fell swoop. Even as you stare down at him with those wide, beautiful, vulnerable eyes in abject surprise, he canât feel bad when your warm, wet cunt envelops him so tightly, so invitingly. And he definitely wonât feel bad when he bottoms out, tip pressing so firmly against your cervix that your head shoots back, eyes rolling back, and mouth agape in a silent scream.
Youâll stay like that for a moment, even after he begins to roughly thrust his hips into you, too dumbed by the shock to process anything but the waves of pleasure shooting through your body. Youâll snap back to earth after a particularly deep thrust, one hand on your mouth to hold back the moans and the other leaning on his chest to keep you upright.
Tears make their way to your eyes, cinched together in pleasure, as you scramble to find your senses.
âI want to hear you, my love. Let me hear how I make you feel.â Itâs not a request coming from him, but rather a demand. Whether because you decide to listen or simply because it becomes too much, you canât hold back, obediently letting him pull moan after moan from you with each thrust. The hand that was on your mouth makes its way to your hips, trying to pry his hands offâanything to get away.
âFu-fuck! Oh fuck! Please, itâs too much. T-too much...â Incoherent pleas are shushed by his scarred lips as he pulls your body flush against his own. You could taste your shared breath, could feel as his tongue slipped inside. You pull back for air, a thin line of saliva connecting you. You can feel his dick twitch at the sight.
âYou can take it. You needed me so badly you woke me up, so youâre going to take everything that I have to give you.â An especially harsh thrust has you seeing stars, throwing your face into his chest. His grip is rough and his pace downright cruel, yet he doesnât let up.
âSorry, sorry, please, Iâll be good, please, itâs really too much, I canât-â The sound of your voiceâso desperate, so tearfulâso close to his ears only makes him harder.
Somewhere in the haze, you recognize the signs of your incoming orgasm. Your clit rubbing against his pelvis with every thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure throughout, his girth pressing into your softest spot effortlessly. Too dumb to even speak at this point, you can only moan as your core tightens before an explosion of white paints your vision white.
âGood girl. Just like that. Such a good girl. You feel so good, so tight.â Nearing his own climax, praise for you spills from his lips. His grip on you is a bit painful now, treating you as nothing more than a personal flesh-light. Your hands flail for any sort of purchase now, settling on the sheets below and clenching so hard it hurts. Itâs not his fault, though; you just feel so good that he canât control himself. Having your chest so close to his face is certainly appreciated.
Riding out your orgasm, you can vaguely feel something hot and thick spill into you. His hips stutter, but donât stop; the pleasure starting to become overstimulating.
âFuck, my love-â You hear him hiss into your shoulder, his hips finally coming to a halt, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix, his hot cum steadily dripping from your entrance. Youâre unsure how long you stay in that position; limp in his hold, his arms possessively wrapped around you, both just breathing.
Without warning, he flips you on your back, his large form overshadowing yours.
âI hope youâre not too tired.â You hear him remark. Iâm not done with you yet.â
You begin to shake your head, attempting to twist out from under him.
âMnnn⌠No more⌠Donât wanna,â you mumble, but heâs having none of this, firmly pressing your thighs into your chest. Trapping your legs by lowering some of his weight, he reaches down to stroke himself. You wiggle and squirm, pleading softly.
âQuit squirming. You wanted this. Be a good girl and take it. All I want to hear from that pretty little mouth of yours is you moaning my name.â Pressing his lips into yours, he forcefully silences any rejections. You can faintly taste whiskey and cigar smoke on his breath.
As heâs kissing you, you can feel the tip of his cock press into your sore cunt. Heâs agonizingly slow, tormenting you in return for earlier. Bottoming out, he makes no movement, even pulling back from your kiss.
You canât help it as your hips grind into his, desperate and greedy for any kind of motion despite the soreness.
âPleaseâŚâ You meet his sharpened gaze, his eyes glazed over with lust and possessiveness. Sitting back, hands still pressed to the back of your thighs, he takes the sight of you in; you squirming, eyes furrowed, tears brimming, lips quivering. Heâs done this to you, turned you into this mess. Him and no one else. That thought alone could have him coming undone, but heâs not done with you yet. He wonât stop until youâre an incoherent, sobbing mess beneath him.
âWho do you belong to?â
Your eyes flit up to his, barely able to focus on anything but the aching pressure in your lower region.
âYouâŚ.â
He presses his thighs against yours, preventing you from moving at all.
âWho do you belong to?â He repeats, emphasizing who.
âYou! Only you!â Tears fall down your face, frustrated. You donât understand! What more does he want from you? You can feel his hot cock twitch inside you with each spasm of your walls. You try to move even a little bit, try to find some sort of release, but his hold on you is too strong.
âMy love, please!â
Oh, how he adores you. His hips are suddenly moving, setting a brutal face that has you seeing double. His large form presses you even deeper into the mattress, his thighs on either side of your hips to form a mating press. You can feel him so much deeper than before, legs dangling in the air helplessly, toes curling.
âSay that again.â
Sobbing, saliva drooling from your mouth, and your tongue lolling uselessly, you happily oblige.
âMy love! Pleaseâf-fuck! Please, my love. â You practically chant, too overtaken by pleasure to be anything but obedient.
Your sounds echo loudly throughout the room, each moan enunciated by the slapping of skin. Youâll probably be bruised tomorrow from how rough heâs handling you, but you canât find it in you to care.
His brows furrow, feeling his orgasm building. He can tell youâre close too, with how tightly youâre gripping him. Watching you throw your head back, eyes lolling into the back of your head, features twisted in pleasure, shaking dumbly beneath him, he can feel himself fall for you deeper and deeper. Only he can see you like this; only he can fuck you so dumb.
His pace increases, the sudden change has you throwing your arms around him, burying your face into his neck. Your breaths quicken, and white hot flashes over your system yet again, overstimulating you.
Without warning, you feel an explosion of heat against your cervix. Your vision shatters as your fourth orgasm of the night is ripped from you, so intense that you lose consciousness for several moments.
His hips donât falter for a moment, determined to ride out both of your orgasms. As he slow, he wipes some drool off your chin with his thumb, taking a moment to admire his work. He swells with pride at seeing your fucked-out form. Knowing he fucked you so well that you passed out, heâll see this image in his dreams for years to come.
Pushing himself away from you, he sits and watches his cum spill from your worn-out cunt. Lazily, he takes two fingers and pushes his seed back in, not wanting any of it to go to waste. He doesnât care where, but if heâs going to cum, itâs going inside of you and youâre taking every last drop.
You begin to stir at the sensation, languidly blinking your eyelashes as you wake. He chuckles, seeing how tired you are.
âYouâve done this to yourself. Havenât you ever learned not to wake a sleeping dragon?â He teases you, expecting you to pout or scowl at him in return.
What he was not expecting was the wide, lust-filled eyes gaping up at him, as if not hearing a word he said.
He certainly was not expecting your hands to pull him in for a kiss, lovingly holding his face. Nor was he expecting for your tongue to dart into his mouth, just as eager for a taste of him as he was for you. And when you pull back, panting heavily and connected by a string of saliva, he can only stare, dazed, as you utter a single word.
âAgain?â
Peering into those beautiful eyes of yours, fixed only on him, and with all the adoration and love heâs longed for, how could he possibly say no?
You might just come to love him yet.
