barkbites

Genuinely made this account to openly freak 😇🫶 • || 18+ MDNI || (Mostly) PHM & OP || •

[collarado]

collarado's masterlist

headcanons • one-shots • fluff • smut • angst(?)

Headcanons

Ryland & Reader (dating) no astrophage

One-shots

Who's a good boy? pt1 puppy!ryland x owner!reader (no astrophage)

note I know the list isn't long enough to be considered a 'master list', but I just want to keep track. Hopefully the list grows as I post more progressively ^^

[rylndgrce]

sigh thinking about this outfit specially on professor!ryland grace. requests are open if you wanna send thoughts in !!

mdni. afab!reader but no pronouns mentioned. professor x grad!student. the suit stays ON !! protected piv. i’m new to writing smut so please be gentle with me. 1.9k words.

Professor!Ryland Grace who decides to wine and dine you when summer break hits. You finished the year off with a near perfect score in his class and he thought you deserved a reward for all of your hard work. He tells you to dress nice, maybe even sends you some money to buy something to wear if you don’t have anything. (he loves the thought of you spending his money. He already takes care of you during class as your professor to make sure you’re doing your best, why not do it a little more outside the classroom too?)

but you’re so nervous because neither of you had done something like this before. All of your time together was spent in his office or when he invited you to his house to help go over lecture notes and “study” so when you assisted him in cleaning the lab room after class like you usually do and he asked if you were busy tomorrow night, you assumed it was for something less intimate. But then he tells you to dress nicely and says he’ll pick you up that evening you're not quite sure what to expect.

Suddenly you’re tearing apart your closet in search of something that qualifies as nice—what does he mean by nice? What color do you wear? What shoes to get?

But then he sends a couple hundred to your phone and a link to the restaurant he made a reservation at and it somehow soothes everything over a little. And you do use his money! You go to a shop that has exactly what you’re looking for, getting something that makes you look classy but also reveals just enough to tease a little, but publicly unacceptable. You spend hours getting ready, checking yourself over time and time again because Professor Grace is incredibly handsome and you’re anxious about looking good for him.

When he pulls out in front of your apartment in an unfamiliar car—you assume he’s probably renting it since the only wheels you’ve ever seen him on are the ones attached to his bicycle—in a black striped suit, slightly unbuttoned red shirt beneath it, you pause to fan yourself. He looks really fucking good. Part of you wonders if there’s enough time before your reservation to take him in the backseat of the car.

Yet all those thoughts melt away when he opens your car door, hand pressed against your back when he greets you. “Hi, sweetheart. You use my money on this? It’s gorgeous on you—you look gorgeous in it. No, wait, you’re gorgeous all the time.”

The feeling of his fingers tracing along the fabric of your outfit sends goosebumps across your skin. But you laugh when he cuts off his ramble by kissing your temple, something he’s only ever done when he was fucking you into the mattress and making you tell him about your previous research project.

“You don’t look half bad yourself, Dr. Grace.”

“Ryland. Call me Ryland. Please.”

You can’t help the way you grin when he corrects you. He’s letting you call him Ryland. None of your peers call him that, you’ve only ever heard it from other professors when they talked during office hours or in the halls. “Ryland.” You amend, finally climbing into the car and letting him close the door for you.

He’s a complete gentleman the rest of the night. A little nervous, awkward quips coming from him while you eat and share a bottle of wine that sounds like it costs more than your monthly phone bill. You’ve never seen him like this. Shy, you mean. He is always so self-assured in the lecture rooms, especially when he lets some of his sass slip. It makes this feel incredibly intimate, like you’re special for being able to see this side of him. Like he’s trying to impress you even though he has a Phd and numerous published papers.

The night moves from the restaurant—where he paid the bill and gave you a look when you offered to split it—to his house. You’ve had sex before, many times actually, but this was different. You could feel it in the way he lets you press him against his front door, his hands gliding along your body like he’s trying to commit the shape of you to memory, kisses all slow and tender. It makes your heart hammer beneath your sternum. You can feel his matching the pace of yours beneath the palms you’re resting against his chest.

He guides you gently to his bedroom with sensual kisses. Letting his lips meet yours before slowly traveling along your jaw, his hand moving to cup your cheek so he can tilt your head to the side. He’s murmuring sweet things as he does it. All kinds of compliments that make an overly giddy smile bloom on your face.

He takes his time with you tonight. He undresses you and leaves kisses on each area of you he opens to himself. It’s an intense contradiction to your usual nights spent together. He’s worshipping you, and he looks good doing it. He hasn’t bothered to remove any article of his suit—much to your enjoyment—even when he has you sprawled on his mattress, bottoms gone and thighs pushed apart to make room for his face between them.

He lets his hands caress up and down your legs, his lips tracing where his fingers don’t reach. His glasses dangle from his ears in a way that is simultaneously attractive and amusing. You want to run your fingers through his hair that’s a little overgrown, something he stopped caring for so close to the end of semester. His kisses slowly trail down to your core in a way that has you almost whining from impatience. He must seem to notice because his tongue takes a long drag through your folds, pulling a quiet sound from you. He lets one hand travel down to rest on the spot where your hips meet your thighs, using it to keep your body in place when you try to squirm away. “No, baby, hold still. I skipped dessert for this.” The other one squeezes your other thigh like he’s trying to ground himself to you. He spends a long time there, slowly pulling more and more sounds from you, moaning into your slick when he feels you tug on his hair.

His lips glisten when he finally pulls away, his swiping along them in an attempt to catch the remains of your taste on his tongue as he stands. His hands move to his blazer but you stop him quickly, sitting up with a vigorous shake of your head. “No! Leave it on. Please. You look good. Really good. I like it.”

He laughs at you. Not in a mean way, the sound is laced with something incredibly sweet, like the whole idea of you liking the suit so much has him completely charmed. And it does.. He’s enamoured with you.

“I can wear it another time. It won’t be leaving my closet anytime soon.” His reasoning is sound, but the huff you let out tells him you don’t really care for a reasonable argument. And the idea makes him pulse. The ever present fact that you’re so attracted to him you want him to keep it on. “Is that it, then? You want me to fuck you like this?”

He leans closer to you as he says it, voice low as he plants his hands on your waist. You nod so quickly he wonders if you even heard what he said. “Yes.”

He guides you further back on his bed until you meet his headboard, where he gives you a kiss that lets you taste yourself on him. It’s sensual, his tongue sliding between your lips as he kneels in front of you, one of your legs trapped between his knees, using his headboard to keep him upright while he keeps your face pressed to his.

You’ve come to learn that you thoroughly enjoy his slightly overgrown hair. You lace the strands at the nape of his neck between your fingers, slightly pulling on them until he whimpers into your mouth. It’s like the sound alone breaks him from his trance, a pink tint blooming along his cheeks like he’s embarrassed to have made the sound at all.

You pout a little when he pulls away, but it’s immediately replaced after you hear him shuffle around in his dresser drawer. You don’t have a chance to peek at what he’s doing before a familiar packaged square is held by two of his fingers in front of your face. “Show me what you know.”

You nod and snatch it from his fingers. He laughs at you again, amused and a little (very) turned on by your excitement. He leans back just enough that he can undo his belt and unzip his slacks before your hands are on him. He almost moans when you guide his cock out of his underwear, his body tensing at the feeling of your hands on it before you roll the condom down his length.

Suddenly he’s the impatient one. He leans forward again, guiding you into your back, resting your head on his pillows until he’s laying over you. His hand clings to your hip as he starts kissing you senseless, swallowing down your moan when he pushes inside of you. Your hands grasp onto the back of his blazer.

You didn’t know someone could be so fucking hot—especially a man at least ten years your senior, wearing an all too appealing suit, pants and underwear undone just enough so he can fuck you in it.

“Fu—fudge, sweetheart. Always such a good listener for me. My best student,” he cuts himself off with a moan, grabbing ahold of your arm to press it against the mattress, hand sliding up until he can interlock his fingers with yours, holding your hand while he pounds into you with a new vigor. He uses his other forearm to hold himself up, resting it right beside your head. “God, you’re an angel. Perfect scores on all your work, always so helpful after class. Now look at you, taking me so well.”

“Dr. Grace!” You moan it loud when he hits a certain spot, his words sinking into your brain all nice and slow until his pace falters, slows down, and you huff. When you open your eyes, there’s less pressure from above you, your eyes barely managing to meet his piercing blue ones.

His glasses are askew, barely holding on when he speaks. “Nuh uh. What’d I tell you earlier, hm? Use that brain of yours and think back. You’ve always been good at remembering stuff for me.”

At first you’re confused. He’s said a lot of things earlier—Dr. Ryland Grace is a rambler. He talks and talks and talks, which you suppose is good for being a professor, but it’s less good now when you’re so drunk off of him.

“Wh—“ You speak, trying to blink away the fog before he rolls his hips into yours, slow and deep, like he’s trying to give you incentive.

“When I picked you up. What was it I told you?”

It’s a hint that you grab onto like a life line, because god you just want him to move, and you really, really try to think.

Ryland. Call me Ryland. Please.

“Ryland, please fuck me.”

“Good job.” He doesn’t give you another second to think before he resumes his prior pace, resting his weight back onto you with a sloppy kiss.

[collarado]

switched my phone to my left hand.

[artrickscupid]

ryland grace being a crier during sex. he gets overstimulated easily, clinging to you when you stroke him gently. “mnnghh baby..” he starts off whining. he’s backed up against the headboard of his bed while your seated perpendicular to his hips on your calf’s. your hand’s on his cock, using his excessive precum to your advantage, spreading it around his tip. his hips lift off the bed when your squeeze him a little before he’s keeling over himself. “please, please—“ he starts begging with a moan cutting him off. that’s when his tears start developing in the corners of his eyes.

“please what?” you tease him. he’s always so needy when you’re touching him. even when your not touching him, when he’s jumping your leg at night when you’re ‘too tired’ to assist with his desires. when you’re only talking him through his orgasm and he’s drinking your every word. your voice gets him going like a dog at your beck and call.

“please help me cum. i need it, please, baby” he’s full on crying and you’re living off it. seeing him like this, admittedly, gets you sinfully turned on. his red cheeks glistening with every tear that falls. and when he looks up at you with his mouth agape it’s like you’re dreaming.

you test his limits further, “lemme see you hold it a little longer. can you do that for me?” to which he nods with a choked sob-moan. “good boy. you’re always so obedient for me.” and he was. you’re good boy. you lean forward to kiss and lick at his tear stained cheeks which gets him all the more red. his meeks moans send ripples through your core and he’s barely containing himself.

“can i now? can i? i’ve been good, you said so!” he grabs at your arm, gently, and your shirt, pinching the plush of your boob not-so-accidentally. you continue to work him, twisting your wrist and making designated stops at his tip, stimulating the vein that starts right under it. it makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“cum for me, ry” you whisper into his neck as your peppering kisses to it. his face is all twisted, red, and wet when white hot ropes come sputtering out of him. it’s a lot and it gets all over your hands and his thighs. after a few tens of seconds he’s spent and sticky, heavily breathing out ‘thank yous’ like you granted him his one wish willow.

“what do you say about going one more time? with me on top?” you suggest. you guys spend the rest of the night doing “intensive exercise” and expecting noise complaints from ryland’s neighbors.

[collarado]

wink wink nudge nudge read and learn guys

[kyri45]

It’s Sunday my dudesss. Time for your weekly Second Backup AU dose. (PREV)

[bimbosicko]

hi my babies 🥹💗 viki is going to be serious for a little minute, so bear with me!!

there's something i've been noticing lately, and i'm genuinely curious if i'm the only one who's been feeling this way. i've seen a lot of the exact same asks being sent around to multiple rygos writers (including me), and no, i don't mean similar asks or people having the same ideas. that's completely normal!! this fandom isn't massive, and there's only so many scenarios we can all come up with before some overlap happens 😭😭

what i'm talking about is when the ask is quite literally copied and pasted word for word and sent to several writers, but the person sending it doesn't mention that they've also sent it elsewhere (?). and i totally understand wanting to see the same concept written by different people!! genuinely, i do. every writer has a different interpretation and a different way of approaching characters/situations, and that's part of the fun!! if there's a trope or an idea you're excited about, of course you'd want to see multiple versions of it.

that's NAWT the part that bothers me.

i think what feels a little strange is when there's no transparency about it at all?? because when i open my inbox and answer something, i'm assuming it's a conversation between me and that anon. so then later seeing the exact same ask, word for word, on another blog can feel a little... weird? not because the ask was sent elsewhere, but because nobody mentioned it.

even a tiny little "hey, i've sent this idea to another writer too because i'd love to see different takes!" would completely change how it comes across.

i don't know if i'm explaining this correctly 😭

but when it's just copied and pasted repeatedly without any acknowledgment, it can sometimes feel less like someone is excited to hear your interpretation and more like they're collecting responses from different people using the same prompt like a human chat gpt. and i know that's probably not the intention! i'm sure most people aren't trying to make writers feel that way at all. i think it's just one of those small courtesy things.

like, if i knew beforehand, i'd probably just go "oh cute!! we're all getting different versions of the same idea" and move on with my day. but when i find out afterwards, it can sometimes feel a little awkward. and even changing the wording slightly helps a lot!!

"hey! i've actually sent a similar ask to another writer because i love this concept and wanted to see different interpretations. i changed it around a bit for you though so you guys don't feel like a prompt machine!! love ya!"

again, this isn't me trying to police anyone's inbox behavior or tell people what they can and can't do. if you want multiple writers to answer the same concept, that's completely your business! i just think a little transparency goes a long way, especially in a community where a lot of us know each other and interact with each other's work.

maybe i'm overthinking it. maybe i'm the only one who's noticed. but i wanted to say something because it's been on my mind lately, and i always prefer being honest with you guys 💗

okay serious viki moment over!! you guys know i love ya!

[collarado]

Comforting to know it isn't just me.

In one of my posts, I mentioned that anyone can freely send me requests, and I did get several requests! However, I also noticed that the majority of them seemed to be copy pasted directly/barely edited requests that I've seen answered by another author.

Hence the reason why I haven't really started some of these requests.

I absolutely love seeing different takes of ideas! Personally, reading these lovely authors and creators pitch their perspectives in a certain idea is warming to me, because it goes to show that everyone is collectively being creative and willing to openly share their ideas knowing that others will support their work.

Sometimes I just wished requests like these with similar concepts would have their own little twists within the request, yk? Instead of something that nearly feels like a carbon copy of another person's idea.

xo 🫰

[opabiniasarecool]

Yes, Ryland Grace is the most aroace person you will ever meet. Yes, Rylan Grace was this secret third thing with Eva Stratt. Yes, Ryland Grace and Carl would've been wonderful husbands if fate hadn't ripped them apart. Yes, Ryland Grace is mates with two alien rocks who love him dearly. Yes Ryland Grace is down bad for Simon from Iron Lung.

All of these statements perfectly coexist in my head.

[collarado]

Who's a good boy?

Instead of owner!ryland x puppy!reader, what if it's flipped over?

part 1/2

note I'm already working on something like this- in my head. I'm not fully locked into writing yet, but I'm just going to put this out here to go back to later once I'm fully committed. So this is technically just a part one.

tags smut, pet play, bondage (collar), RYLAND CRYING AHHH, Ryland being slapped once, Ryland wearing puppy ears, tail strapped around his waist and a pretty collar around his neck as you peg him and make him stroke himself!

smut beneath the cut. Enjoy my beloved freaks ^^

"Mmf, love please-" You harshly tug on Ryland's leash that you held lazily in your hand, the collar tightening around his neck, making him gasp. "That's not my name." You drawled lazily, thrusting your strap right onto the hilt, balls slapping beneath you as your hips formed circular motions that makes Ryland to babble nonsense. "M'sorry, ma'am." He shakily panted, whining at the torturous tease. "Good boy. Now stroke that pretty little cock for me." Ryland whimpered as he shakily grabbed himself, stroking up and down as he tilted his head backwards with a moan. "Tsk tsk- you don't get to look away from me." You tugged on his leash again, making his head lift.

What a sight- his glasses ajar, hair mused and face absolutely flushed.

"That's it, who's a good puppy?" You huffed as you pulled out, then slammed back into him, pull out, slam, and again. Ryland moaned at every thrust, his eyes staring straight at your strap penetrating him. "M-mmf- me, I'm y-your good- ngh- puppy-" He pathetically whined, his eyes glassy as tears started to form in his eyes.

"Safe word?" You briefly slowed your movements, sweat beading down between your chest as you looked at him. "G-Green.." He gasped, legs shaking.

You flip him over to his stomach, the sheets beneath Ryland creating delicious friction against his aching cock. "Oomf..!" He grunts in surprise, hands gripping the pillows. You nudge his legs apart further, your unoccupied hands gripping onto his waist firmly as you slowly pulled out. "Fuuu-dgeuh..." Ryland whined as he buried his face against the pillow, your shoulders slightly rising from his habit of swearing. Teacher's instinct, he said.

"Who said you can stop stroking? Up." With the hand that held his waist, you slapped his ass- not enough to hurt, but to sting. Ryland whined loudly as he pulls himself up to his knees, bringing a hand to thrust his aching cock into. "Such a good puppy, obeying me." You praised mockingly, pistoning your strap into him with every ounce of strength you can muster, making Ryland grunt loudly at every hit as the bed rocking violently beneath you two.

[cheshire-smiley-fries]

Odysseus and Penelope except it's Rocky and Adrian

[collarado]

someone's gotta draw this out 😭

[collarado]

Ryland & Reader headcanons (FLUFF)

Semi-filler because I lost my flow writing reqs.

♡ Ryland loves sneaking his hands underneath your shirt, not with intent but absently seeking warmth. He finds comfort in skin-to-skin contact, his calloused hands idly tracing the curves of your body in quiet worship. Sometimes Ryland would slip his hands down the waist of your pants to graze your thigh, but not any further. He just genuinely loves touching you and being close every chance he gets.

"That tickles!" You giggled as Ryland's hands lifted your shirt just below your ribcage, large hands gliding over your body reverently as he pressed a kiss against the crook of your neck. "Mm, stay like this f'me, please." He pleaded, voice muffled against your shoulder, his stubble slightly tickling your skin.

♡ While Ryland is more of The Beatles or "dad rock" guy, he'd definitely give your music genre a listen. He loves knowing what you listen to, often commenting about the songs you play on speaker. If Ryland liked the song enough, he'd search it up on YouTube and save it in his favourites (I think he's more of a YT guy than a Spotify guy) and will play it in his classroom whenever he gives desk work or he stays after-hours to grade assignments.

"So this is who you listen to. I've heard of them several times." Ryland remarked as he observed you bouncing to one of their songs as you made breakfast. "Yeah, they're my go-to artists." You offhandedly replied as you slid him a plate. He hummed, pecking your temple as he ate. Little did you know, Ryland is remembering to add that song into his YouTube folder for later.

♡ One time Ryland's students introduced him to matching bracelets and trinkets? He's over the moon (cough) when he comes home to your shared apartment, holding up two bracelets he made. Sun and moon with your initials and his. He carefully slips the one with his initials onto your wrist, lifting it and giving it a soft kiss right onto the pulse. ( cliche but he'd 100% do that)

You were briefly startled when Ryland practically flew the door open, nearly dropping whatever you were holding. "Ry-" He went right up to you, practically bringing his wrist right up to your nose. "Look!" He bounced on his heels, eyes sparkling as he looked at you expectantly. "Whoa okay, let me take a good look." You laughed as she slightly pulled back, blinking at the bracelet he wore. A beaded one, with your initials and the moon. "It has your initials!" Ryland exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you inspect the charm on his wrist.

"I can see that." You nodded. "I made one for you too!" Without moving his wrist, Ryland moved his free hand as he fished out something from the pocket of his suit, bringing up an identical bracelet, this time with the sun and his initials. "Here, let me.." Ryland lifted your wrist, slowly sliding the charm over your palm. His thumb brushed over your wrist, bringing up your hand to press his lips right against your pulse. "Now we bring each other wherever we go."

Smut will be posted next, ty for reading 🫶

[sayatsugu]

When You Look at Dr. Grace

part 1/2 (part 2)

[sayatsugu]

When You Look at Dr. Grace

(part 1) part 2/2

[stiffyck]

Heck, if he wanted to do open-heart surgery on me, I’d probably let him.

[azaablue]

the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be apart of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.

[collarado]

cherry on top being "English isn't my first language"

[astrophagee]

Rocky wearing a NASA suit like Ryland's specifically made for him (for some reason) except Rocky keeps complaining how it feels on him 😭

This humours me. Was a bit unsure of how he’d wear the suit tho

[collarado]

Hm.. perhaps the arms part would be a slip and zip on, same with the base of the suit- not sure about the helmet part though- considering Rocky doesn't totally need it?

Either way, the idea humored me as well when I requested it. Like matching buddies except one of them wants to rip out the suit

[ken-dom]

Genius of Love

Lars Lindstrom x afab!reader - 1.4k words

∘₊✧ Summary: After a few weeks of building trust and physical touch with him, you give Lars a thigh job.

∘₊✧ Authors notes: Based on this delicious request! The thought of giving Lars a thigh job... god. I can't think about it too long or I'll implode. Title taken from the song of the same name as featured in the movie, because Lars really does become the genius of love - physical and otherwise!! Fingers don't fill a bowling ball like that and then disappoint a lover!

∘₊✧ Content: nsfw, hand job, fingering, mentioned masturbation, oral sex (Lars giving), mentioned blow jobs, mentioned penetrative sex, thigh job (intercrural sex), horny Lars, touch sensitivity, first times, afab reader - 'pussy' used to describe parts once

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

Lars isn’t ready for penetrative sex yet, but you’ve tried a few other things together that have got him both hooked on you, and curious for more.

It started with kisses of course, which developed into much more heated sessions.

After making out came dry humping with clothes on, which made Lars almost black out because he was kind of embarrassed to experience all that pleasure right in front of you, but the relief he felt far outweighed that. It also helped that you moaned for him, gripped his sweater and unravelled right along with him.

Touching under clothes was the next step, which he was especially eager to do for you, and surprisingly adept at; his fingers are thick and precise and naturally skilled. He was in awe of the way his fingers can make you feel, squirming, back arching, fingernails digging into his wrist as you feel every pump of his finger, every massaging circle around your swollen bundle of nerves. Lars loves the way he can feel your walls clench around his fingers when you cum. He loves to lick the taste of you from them, too.

When you slid your hand into his pants for the first time, it wasn’t exactly a hand job. Instead, he let you guide his hand so the contact wasn’t too intense, and he came in just a couple of minutes. The next time, he trusted you entirely to touch him completely unguided, your bare flesh against the heat of his hard cock — and he came even quicker.

He ate you out a few days ago, and every day since, because he seriously got a taste for you. And god did he make you see stars over and over again. He combines his fingers filling you with the gentle flicking of his tongue to have you melt into his bed (or the dinner table or the kitchen counter or the sofa at Karin and Gus’s while they’re out and you’re supposed to be helping with their decorating) and cry out for him.

Blow jobs, though, feel scary. There is so much sensory input to consider with receiving oral sex that Lars needs a little longer to work on that. But he is curious how it’ll feel to have your perfect mouth take him in, wet and warm, and whether it feels at all like sex will feel. There’s time to work that out yet. You’re so patient with him after all.

Little does he realise you’re more satisfied than anyone else could dream to make you, and it doesn’t matter to you what method gets you there, as long as he’s comfortable and satisfied too.

Lars has learned your body like he knows the back of his hand, but he’s still working on his own body, and you both know that could take some time.

What you both know though, is that he does want you. So bad he can’t sleep on the days he doesn’t see you, and ends up at the woodpile at 2am to burn off the simmering sexual energy that comes along with after-dark thoughts of you. After all, he doesn’t want to waste an orgasm on a lonely jerk off session when you could give him one far stronger and a hundred times more thrilling in just a few hours.

Your idea to try something new tonight proves that he was right about that, or he thinks so anyway. You’d personally pay money to know he jerked off to the thought of you, but he’d be far too shy to divulge that information just yet anyway.

After a hurried dinner during which Lars was impatient to get you out of Gus and Karin’s house to have you all to himself, you get through his front door and strip from the waist down before he gets a chance to turn and kiss you.

Lars swallows hard when he sees you’re already half-nude, his eyes drawn to your bared centre like he’s hypnotised as he sits back on his bed, waiting for your instruction.

‘It’s okay if you don’t feel ready yet, but I can take my top off too?’ you ask.

Lars, however, is about ready to burst. On top that, he wants nothing more than to push you to the wall, hook a leg over his shoulder and eat you like a starved man. This, along with the thought of whatever you were planning, had him hard and leaking in record time. Any more of you on show just yet and he thinks he might actually implode. 

He shakes his head.

You smile, understanding, your eyes flicking down to the painful tent in his pants as you step toward him.

‘Unzip,’ you whisper, and he does it without question, lowering his underwear too so his thick cock can spring free of the confines.

You’ve touched it plenty, but you’ve never seen it. And oh, it’s so handsome you can’t help but lick your lips. Lar’s length is hot with untouched need, red and leaking steadily at the tip, minute little throbs pulsing through it that you can almost feel… it’s big. And so pretty.

You grab the little bottle of lube you brought in your jacket pocket and offer it to him.

His head tilts, worried eyes burning into yours.

‘Just a little,’ you say, ‘so it feels good.’

He nods, spreading a thin layer of the clear liquid over his cock. It’s cool against his skin and he hisses at how good that feels, trying not to create too much delicious slippery friction. Not yet.

‘I’m going to sit on your lap. You’ll be between my thighs. Is that okay?’

‘Y-yes,’ he tries, heart racing. ‘Not inside you?’

‘No, not yet. Only when you’re ready. This’ll be kind of… in between a hand job and a blow job,’ you explain.

Lars blushes crimson, his eyes squeezing tight shut. The way you talk so openly about it is dizzying, kind of refreshing, and an incredible turn on. God, he wants all of that and more with you right now. All at once. One step at a time, he reminds himself, that’s what Dagmar would say.

So he nods again, and you lower yourself to settle on his lap, closing your legs around his length, sliding perfectly against your pussy between your tightly clenched thighs.

‘Oh- ohh-’

‘Does it feel good?’ you ask, and Lars lets out an incoherent string of moans. ‘Ready for me to move?’

‘Please!’ he cries, and you smirk, lifting a little to slide your clenched thighs up and back down his aching cock.

‘You feel so big,’ you breathe, feeling your core clench and drip as you slide against him. ‘Fuck me.’

And Lars immediately grabs your hips in his big strong hands, holds you still and ruts up to fuck into the deliciously tight space.

It’s messy and uncoordinated and completely lacks any semblance of rhythm as he loses himself in the sensation, a thick rope of creamy heat shooting out from between your legs and splattering across the rug below. As his breath heaves, you turn to push him down onto the bed, straddling his waist and closing your lips over his.

It’s a tough recovery for Lars; he can’t quite catch his breath but he doesn’t want to either. He just wants more. Wants you again, wants every part of you, but for now, as his softening cock twitches through the aftershocks of his release, he reaches between your slick thighs and drags his skilled fingers through your folds, rubbing and stroking just right until you’re coming undone above him.

You collapse onto him, shaking and breathless, and Lars wraps his safe, warm arms around you, softly kissing your forehead.

‘It wasn’t too much?’ you pant into his sweater.

‘It was just right,’ Lars says quietly, his voice cracking half way. ‘I think maybe I’m ready…’

‘For a blow job?’

Even after what you’ve just done, embarrassment prickles at Lars’s cheeks to hear you say that. His cock twitches, too, in a rather more pleasurable way.

‘No, I mean-’

‘For sex?’ you ask as carefully as you can, but it comes out a little more high pitched than you hoped.

‘Y-yeah, I think. I mean… that felt so good, but I just wanted to bury myself in you completely. Is that okay?’ 

You can hear his heart rate pick up through his chest.

‘Of course that’s okay. Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready,’ you reassure him.

Nerves bubbling beneath the surface, Lars says, ‘I’m ready now?’

[collarado]

wym im listening to Drag Path while doing someone's smut request

[collarado]

me when one of my favorite fic writer follow me back

hi sipo I freaked out