Content- Praise and name calling (Good girl, pet, tesoro, amore), bondage, toy use, spanking, orgasm control, orgasm denial, thigh riding, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral (m! recieving), mentions of a safe word (not used), multiple positions, dominant Copia, mean (ish) Copia, Copia being called 'sir' and 'Papa', aftercare!!, poorly translated Italian (obvi), lmk if I missed anything!!
A/N: Hi hi!! This fic is a bit all over the place! I just couldn't decide what I liked the best so I just wrote everything out haha. I really hope you enjoy the part 2 to first impressions! Please let me know what you'd like to see in part 3!! Part 3 will be the end of this fic, but I'd love to write more Copia content! Enjoy <33
wc: 2.5k
"He's to become Papa, you know."
"Who is?" you ask, head tilting towards the sister speaking to you.
"The Cardinal!" She exclaimed, jumping up with excitement.
"I hear he's picked his sacrificial sister for the Papal ritual." Another sibling chimed in from beside you.
Oh.
"I'm jealous it's not me." The sister said, hanging her head low.
"There's always the next Papa…" the sibling patted her on the shoulder. "You're awfully quiet…are you his sacrificial sister?"
"Me? Oh, no, I wouldn't even think he'd notice me like that." Your head shook. Both siblings stared at you in disbelief.
"Are you serious?"
"Cardinal gets lost in his mass sermons staring at you. I'd be surprised if it wasn't you he'd be tying up and pounding into on the altar next week."
Your cheeks burned.
"I mean I wouldn't be surprised if he stripped you down right here in the hall and-"
"And did what, precisely, Sister?" Copia's voice boomed behind you. "Go on, enlighten us about what I would do."
"Nothing, nothing Cardinal, I'm sorry." Her head shook. "I should be off to confession."
"That would be wise, Sister. Take your sibling with you, I'd like to speak to her alone." Copia nodded at you, as your fellow sister nodded reaching for the sibling's hand and dragging them down the hall. The sibling turned and made eyes towards you that seemed to say 'I told you he looks at you like that.'
Your attention shifted to Copia, his eyes softly meeting yours. "I've missed you, tesoro."
"It hasn't been that long," you smile.
"Amore, its been a week."
"Si, Copia, a week."
"I want to see you."
"You are seeing me, Cardinal." Your smile brightened, holding his hands in yours.
"No, amore, I'd like to see you in my chambers."
Oh.
"Now?"
"Now." His toned darkend. You dropped his hands, wiping your palms on your habit. Copia walked in front of you, leading down the familiar path to his chambers as you quickly skipped to trail behind him. The hall was empty, other than a few ghouls standing beside papal doors. Copia opened his door, holding it to grant you entry. You slid in after him and the door slammed closed behind you. Copia's hands found your shoulders, "Is this okay?"
"Yes."
"I'm not going to be gentle with you. Not today. Are you okay with that?"
You nodded.
"No, tesoro. Use your words like a good girl."
"Yes, Copia."
"Good." His voice was low, hot in the shell of your ear. His fingers dig into your shoulder as he presses you against the door. His lips press firmly into yours, moving from lips to cheek then back to lips. His kisses are quick and desperate. His lips connect with your parted mouth, tongue pushing its way through your teeth. As your tongues danced around each other his hands crept to the zipper on your habit, unzipping the back. You arched into him, giving him space to pull the fabric apart.
"Copia," your lips broke apart.
"Yes?"
"Are we doing this here?"
"No, no, I am going to take you to bed."
"Yeah?" You nipped his bottom lip.
"Si,"
"And what exactly are you going to do to me in bed?"
His hands made quick work of the fabric dropping the top of your habit down to your waist, exposing your lacey black bra. "I am going to lay you on my bed, put your ass high in the air, tie your hands, and fuck you." Your thighs pushed together. Copia's mouth worked down your neck, leaving dark bruises in its wake. His lips kissed the fabric of your bra, tongue flicking over your peaked nipple through the lace. You gasped, tilting your head back.
"Cardinal-"
"No, tesoro, that's not my name."
"Copia!"
"Si, tell me what you want."
"Bed. I want you."
"Oh amore, no please? We'll have to do something about that won't we."
Your face went hot. Copia pulled you through the room, walking you past the chairs he'd first devoured you in, towards the bed where he'd fucked you with a toy until you broke. "Tell me, cara mia, do you have a word?"
"A word?" You questioned.
"Si, if I am too much, a safe word?"
"Ah, uhm, no I don't."
"Let's think of one then, yes?"
You nodded, sitting on the soft bed. "Crimson?"
"Whatever you'd like, will you remember crimson?"
"Yes, Cardnial."
Copia was quick to flip you and push your body onto the bed pinning your arms to your back, gripping your wrists together. Your face dug into the pillow, "Yes, who?"
"C-copia, I mean Copia."
"That's better. Now, I am going to take the rest of your habit off and tie your hands, tell me to stop and I will. Understood?"
"Yes." You moaned in anticipation, a light breathy sound music to his ears.
"So eager," Copia smiled in satisfaction. His grip on your wrists loosened as he pulled the fabric of your uniform down. Copia's hands slid up your skin to the top of your head to pluck the veil from your hair and place it gently with the other garmnets on a nearby chair. From the same chair, he picked up two sections of rope and began tying your wrists together. "Too tight, amore?"
"No, Copia, 's perfect."
"Good, now spread your legs but keep your ankles together." You did as he instructed, pushing your knees as far apart as they could go and pressed your ankles together.
"Like this?"
"Si, si, amore, perfect." He took a moment to slide your panties down your legs, pulling them from your body. The rope was tied as gently as done to your wrists, "How's this?"
"Good, feels nice." You tug on each of the ropes relaxing with the gentle pressure they apply. Copia's pressence behind you disappeared for a moment, you turned your head to see him opening the night table drawer pulling out a small handful of familiar toys.
"Think you can take this one today?" Your eyes widened at the thick, cylindrical toy in his hand. Copia smiled, holding up the widest of the few. "I think you can."
"Yes, Copia." He made his way behind you, kneeling between your parted legs. The bed dipped parting them a little further. Copia's hands ran over the skin of your back, fingers roaming over the meat of your ass. His fingers squeezed earning a squeek out of you. "You're being so gentle with me."
"Would you like me to be rougher?"
"Yes."
Copia shuffled for a moment, placing the toys down beside one of your legs. His belt buckle clicked as he shuffled to push his pants and boxers down. Copia was on you suddenly, a heavy weight on your back. His thick, heavy cock pressed against your thigh. One hand wrapped quickly around your throat and the other held the smallest of the silicone toys to your lips. "Lick it." Your tongue lolled out wrapping around the toy. "Now suck." The toy was shoved deep into your mouth. Your eyes rolled back as you sucked on the toy wishing it was Copia's cock.
You moaned muffled by the fake cock in your mouth. Copia's grip on your neck lightened, as he pulled the toy out. A strand of saliva connecting it to your lips. "So good for me, cara, so perfect." He whispered in your ear. Copia placed a gentle kiss to your temple before shifting off of you. As he moved you groaned in disappointment. Copia dragged the toy across the skin of your thigh, up your wet folds. "Oh tesoro, how desperate you are for me." Copia pushed the tip of the toy into your puckering hole.
"Copia…" you moaned out shakily. His palm pushed the toy in further, a finger reaching to stroke your clit. "Yes! Yes! There, Copia its so good!" Breath punctured each word. Copia's pace quickened, you wiggled your arms in the tie wishing for more.
"Look at this," Copia teased.
"I need more, I wanna touch- wanna touch myself."
"You think you can do better than me?"
"No! No, I didn't say that, I just, I need more please!" Copia's hand stops, his fingers halt on your clit as his touch became distant. "Nooooo!" You cried as he fell away. You heard the shuffling of fabric as Copia stripped away the rest of his clothing. With a firm grip, Copia pulled you up to a seated position, pushing the toy in further as you sat flat in front of him. Your eyes fluttered at the filling sensation.
Your hips rolled on the toy. "Please, please Copia!" You cried. You bounced up and down on the silicon cock. Copia watched with crossed arms, eyes narrowing as you brought yourself closer and closer to the edge.
"I am going to move you onto my lap and you are going to ride my thigh until I say you're done."
"Yes Copia," you moaned out. His hands firmly planted on your shoulders halting your movement. Your eyes met. You stared up through thick lashes, Copia's gaze was firm on yours. His hands moved from your shoulders, one resting on your waist the other made its way between your legs, pulling the toy from your cunt with no warning. You gasped, dropping your jaw. Copia tossed the toy to the side moving you to allow him space on the bed. Once settled, Copia lifted you from under your arms and placed you on his thigh. The tie on your ankles rest on his leg.
"Move." Copia barked out. His hands held you firm on your waist. Your hips rocked back and forth, on his thigh, clit catching on his skin.
"Oh my god," you breathed out. Your hips moved faster on an unsteady rhythm.
"You are so desperate, amore, do I need to show you how to do this?"
"Yes…" A shaky breath fled from your lip. Copia's grip tightened on your waist.
"I'm going to undo your ties for you to learn. Are you going to be good for me?"
"Yes sir." You nodded frantically. Copia quickly untied your wrists, reaching to untie your ankles. He groaned leaning forward. "I can do it, Copia." You reached to help untie shaking the rope loose.
"What a good girl you are."
"That isn't very rough of you."
"Telling me how to do my job now are we?" His hand gripped your chin pulling you towards him.
"Teach me how to get off now?" Your legs dropped, thighs squeezing Copia's.
"You have to keep a rhythm." Copia's hand rocked you back and forth slowly, as if he were keeping time with a song. "Then," his grip released your chin, moving down to your folds pushing your lips apart. Your clit hit his bare thigh earning him a moan. "You have to make sure your pretty little clit gets the attention she needs." His pace with your hips quickend as your body rolled with the motions. "Oh cara, you feel incredible on my thigh." His hand grabbed yours and moved it to his throbbing cock. You stroked him up and down, finger pressing on the thick throbbing vein. "Fuck, you're going to make me cum like that cara."
"Good." You smirked. Copia stopped you, swatting your hand away. "Hey!" you grimmaced.
"I am teaching you. You do as I say, understand?"
"Yes, but I-"
"No buts. Move your hand." And you did. Copia lifted you once more, knocking your thighs apart and placed you on his thick, throbbing cock.
"Copia!" You moaned out loudly in surprise.
"Sit."
"But we didn't- I'm not-"
"Crimson?" He asked, brow arching. You shook your head. "Words."
"No sir."
"Then sit." The stretch of Copia's dick burned as you lowered yourself. "Such a good girl, good fucking girl." You moaned with his words. Once seated as far as you could, Copia started thrusting slow and shallow. The feeling was sensational.
"I- this- Copia…" You groaned throwing your head onto his shoulder. You hadn't worked your way up to how thick he was, god it felt like you were being split open.
"You will take what I give you from now on. Do you understand?"
"Yes yes yes!"
Copia's hands spread your ass further apart. His finger pressed against the tight rim of your ass. "You'll let me fuck you here next time yes?"
You moaned loudly into his ear, "Please, please Copia whatever you want." You clenched tightly around him, his hand moved to smack your ass.
"You're taking me so well. Now just take," his breath punched as he thrust deeper into your cunt "…a little bit more. Oh cara mia, that's it!" You both became a mess of moans and grunts as Copia plunged ever so deeply into your tight cunt.
"Close, close close close, Copia don't stop!" You cried with hands squeezing his shoulders.
"Amore, amore I am right here. Cum on my cock." He commanded. His hand snaked down one last time to play with your sensitive clit. His touch was quick and tight on your puffy bud. Your orgasm was quick to crash over you, cunt pulsing around his cock as you moaned and whined above him. "I'm going to move you now," Copia warned before pulling you free from his cock. You shuffled to lay between his legs, throwing your mouth over his hard on bobbing up and down. Copia threw out a handful of slurred swears, pushing your head down as tears pricked in your eyes. Warm hot ropes of cum spurted down your throat. Copia's chest heaved as you pulled your mouth away from him. You stared up at Copia through tear framed eyes.
"How'd I do?"
"So perfect amore, I need to get us cleaned up."
"We could shower together?"
"Can you stand?"
You kicked your legs weakly. "Maybe."
"How about a bath, cara?"
"A bath sounds good."
The water was warm in the bath. Copia pulled you tightly to his chest, you lay curled on your side head just above the water.
"Thank you, Copia." You smiled, tracing shapes in the hair on his chest.
"Thank you?"
"For taking care of me."
"Oh tesoro, you don't have to thank me."
"I like this." You smiled, nuzzling into his touch.
"Good. I'd like to talk to you about this actually."
"Talk to me? Have I done something wrong?"
"No, no not at all. Actually I wanted to talk about something important." He shifted slightly. You perked up, facing him. "I am going to be the next Papa, amore."
So they were right, you thought.
"I want you to be with me."
"I am with you, silly." You smiled at him.
"No, no, I mean I want you to be mine. My, eh, sacrificial sister."
"You do?" Your eyes lit up.
"Si, si amore. Would you?"
"Yes! Yes of course I would Copia."
"We have much work to do then?" He pulled your face closer, "Are you sure about this?"
You kissed him, deeply, climbing to straddle his lap. "Yes, Papa. I'm sure."
His cock jumped. "Oh cara that's a dangerous place you're going to."
"But Papa," you teased, "you seem to like it."
"We rest now, amore. But tomorrow we can play a little more."
Tattoo artist and I were debating over where to place my thigh tattoo. I, pants pulled down and half a buttcheek out in a large airy room in front of the windows said nervously “haha, I know I have a lot of thigh to work with” and they go “OMG yes I feel so bad for skinny clients because their art gets all crowded. You could get some nice big pieces on your arms and legs though”. Hell yeah my friend. Yet another W for the fat crowd tonight.
Warnings: Predation, hunting dynamic, dom/sub dynamics, implied previous consent, poor use of Italian, stalking, restraint, use of shirt as a gag, choking, teasing, sub space, nipple play, vaginal fingering, submission, p in v sex, public sex, sex in the woods (on dirt it’s a chase what did you expect). I will be writing a separate epilogue for aftercare! Let me know if I missed anything xx
As always NSFW below the cut, enjoy!!
“Piccina cerbiatta, little deer, come out for your Cardinal.” You hear the Cardinal echo through the thickly settled wood beyond the ministry gates. Dark night glittered with stars above you. This was not your first hunt, it was very unlikely to be your last. Each hunt started with a head start, sometimes a few minutes up to hours. Then he’d come. The Cardinal in tattered slacks and pale white and billowing shirt would hunt you. Chase you through the trees until he finally had you on the ground at his mercy. Before each hunt there were rules and steps that needed to be followed to make sure you were both safe. Each had a small pack with a flashlight, whistle, some first aid supplies, and compass in case you’d traveled too far. The Cardinal had few rules, though they cycled through your head at the start of each hunt.
1. If you want to stop blow the whistle.
2. Either party could be hunted, though each hunt needs to be planned with a start and end
3. Chapel is your safeword. If you need to stop at any point after being caught use it.
4. Fight like hell. Parere (obey) is your key to submit.
This hunt felt like every other. You ran as soon as The Cardinal gave you the call to start. He’d given you an hour. An hour to map out your path and lose yourself in the woods. You wore a small black watch on your wrist to check the time, it had been a little over an hour as you heard his voice call out to you. Tonight, you had found a new spot on a familiar trail under the cover of low hanging leaves. There were a few fallen trees nearby creating what looked like a star against the cold ground. It wasn’t just what it looked like, it was a star. How coincidental.
Something behind you snapped and you turned quickly to discover a twig snapped over a sharp rock. It was suspiciously quiet tonight, no creatures or sounds from the ministry. Usually by now there would at least be the faint sounds of drumming or hum of guitars. More snapping behind you had you spun on your heels. A doe with bright eyes whipped its head towards you. You offered a small wave of peace. “How fitting is this?” Shit. The Cardinal appeared from behind thick brush, the deer took off leaving you with your captor. “Two little doe lost in the woods. I wonder where her buck must be.” He stepped forward, backing you further along the fading trail.
Your steps move in tandem, his reaching for you as you back further and further away from him. “Where are you going, sorella? Scared?”
“No-“ you wavered out, the Cardinal stalked closer “No!” You shout, stumbling to turn and run. You bolt away in the trees. It wasn’t so much being scared that it was the thrill of the chase. It couldn’t be over this soon. You took off, jumping over rocks and large branches as heavy booted steps followed you.
“Bambi,” he cooed “I only want to look at you.”
You ran, huffing as you try to catch your breath. Deeper and deeper into the woods you evaded him. This was unfamiliar territory for you, no safety of familiar marked trees and hiking poles. Rocks and mud shuffled under your feet bounding through the new area. You came upon a clearing, a few stumps around the edges, a small brook bubbling through the center. At some point you lost track of his footsteps, only hearing the pounding of your heart in your ears. For moments there was silence. Moments became long minutes, time seeming to slow as you waited. How long has it been? You thought, turning to check your watch. A measly 8 minutes had gone by since you’d stepped into the opening between trees. A mix of frustration and relief that you hadn’t yet been caught had you throwing your head back, hands running over your face. A strong hand wrapped around your front, gripping your throat. The other stole your wrists pulling them above your head. “Scream and I put you beneath my boot.” The Cardinal’s breathy voice startled you as you gasp for air beneath his grip. You nod, agreeing with his terms. “Good little deer.” Fuck.
In a smooth motion you were spun to face him. One bright eye staring into yours. The anticipation was visible on your face under the guise of fear. You struggle for air as his gloved hand encases your throat again. Your hands writhe and wiggle attempting for freedom. “Oh poor thing, struggling to break free hm?”
“Let…me…go…” you squeak out beneath his squeeze. If only it were that easy. The Cardinal tsked bringing you closer to him.
“I think I’d like to fuck you.” He said grimly.
“Fuck…” you huffed “…you.” Suddenly you were falling, arms not moving fast enough to brace yourself. You hit the leaf scattered dirt with a thud, luckily jerking your head up before it smacked down with the rest of you. A heavy boot pressed your chest down, toe box resting below your breasts.
“Thought I told you to behave? Guess I’ll have to show you how to, hm?” He knelt with his boot still pressing into you. “You seem so fragile, bella cosa.” Pretty thing. He was taunting you, dragging out the inevitable. You thrash below him, arms reaching up to hit either side of his frame only to be stopped by his leather clad palms forcing you down. He shifted so either leg rest on your sides, working his way down your body to pull your shirt free from your caged torso. When his hands moved you pushed yourself up, resting on your elbows.
“I’ll scream, I’ll let the whole ministry know we’re out here and they’ll come for me. They’ll find us and see what you do.” You spat at him. This only made him laugh.
“Oh sorella go ahead. Scream for them but they won’t hear you.” He shoved the removed garment into your mouth, tying the long sleeves behind your head. “Missed your chance didn’t you?”
You try anyways, a long muffled yell breaking from your throat. It, of course, got you nowhere. That didn’t end your fight though, you kept thrashing. He entertained your movements for a bit longer. Fingers swiping across your bare skin. Digits walked across your chest, down and down until they push your bra beneath your tits. “Look at how excited you are!” He exclaimed giving each perky nipple a sharp flick. You mewled.
Your arms were growing tired, legs slowing. “Oh poor deer, pathetic how you can’t keep up with an old man.” The Cardinal adjusts to pull clothing from you, crouched ripping your pants and panties to your ankles. Your legs fought, twisting as he gently removed your boots. Your clothes rest in a pile atop your muddy boots. You try and try until his face is beside your ear “Parere, piccina cerbiatta.” Sweet relief overtook you. Resting your limbs on either side of you, the Cardinal stood removing item after item of clothing until he stood before you bare. Your mind slipped, eyes fluttering as the Cardinal pulled you apart.
First his fingers dancing on your soft skin, palms rolling over your hardened nipples earning him a whimper from you. His mouth replaced his wandering hand, warm tongue circling a sensitive bud. His hand slowly crept between your bodies, spreading your pussy apart. His rough thumb found your clit pressing tight yet delicate circles against it. “Oh god,” you whine out, the feeling sinking you further and further below your own body. You had no control over your body nor what was happening to it. “More!” You moan, shivering with his touch.
“Greedy little thing, should I give you what you want?”
“Yes! More, fuck, please!”
“Tsk, you ran from me, sorella, I think I might just…” his thumb pulling away.
“Copia!” You shout in protest. His name. How intimate.
“Be still, little deer. Let your Cardinal ravish you.” And ravish he does. Copia took his time to fuck you apart with his fingers scissoring and curling with antagonizing ministrations. Time was lost to you, at some point he pulls his fingers from your aching cunt. Wanton moans rip from your throat as he pumps his cock a few times above you. “Breathe, cara mia, big breath.” He waits a moment until you’re exhaling to push inside you inch by satisfying inch. You tense below him wanting to scream out in pleasure. Instead you open your mouth with no sound to be found. “Good fucking girl,” he grunts with punctuating thrusts.
Copia kisses messily from your supple breast, across your neck, over your agape jaw. He is everywhere filling you so sweetly as if the vicious nature of the foreplay from before hadn’t existed. Yielding your body to him in the cold earth as he bucked into you slow and steady felt impossibly good. Your head spun and spine tingling with the threat of your impending release. Copia could tell, broken whines turned into moans and screams for more and don’t stop! You were outside of your body watching the beautiful scene play out as he shushed you gently, “shhh darling, don’t hurt yourself. Let go for me. Cum, little deer.” His pace remained as you fell apart. Your mind crashed back into your body as you milked his spearing cock. Copia groaned as you squeezed him in, feeling his heavy sack slap against your cold ass. “Santanas,” he cursed under his breath as you writhed in overstimulated bliss “I’m, shit, I’m almost there.” He was so sweet with you chasing his own high. You lay beneath him as his body tensed and quickened its pace. “Fuck, sorella, fuck me.” He came with a heavy and low moan. His pistoning hips lost their musical rhythm slowing until he grew soft inside you. Your head spun around, eyes glittering in starlight as if they belonged in constellations. “Hmm,” he sighed, hand resting on your cheek, “are you with me, Bambi?”
You attempted a nod, trying to vocalize a yes to no avail. Copia smiled stroking your cheeks. “I’m going to take my cock out of your warm pussy, think you will be okay?” He had to convince himself if was the right choice despite how much you protested and how comfortable he felt to lay with you there. As he pulled out you groaned and twisted to curl on your side. “No no, little deer, I’ve got to take you inside. We’ll get cleaned up and drink some water then we sleep.”
“‘Kay,” you whisper as Copia cleaned the area around you from stray clothing. In his bag he found a spare pair of clean panties and large shirt to pull onto you. “Thank you,” you sigh as he helps you to a sort of standing position with the support of his body. As Copia shimmied on his clothing and packed his bag he noticed how dazed you seemed.
“Sorella?”
“Mhm?”
“We’re not far, come, let me hold you.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and extended his arms toward you. You slunk toward him all of a foot before collapsing into his embrace. A chaste kiss was pressed to your head as he pulled you up and began the walk back to the ministry.
So we know how peacocky Cardi is; what if f!reader usually dressed super casual but he asked to doll them up? So, maybe a Cardi getting you all dressed up just to get you undressed again.
My god I love this idea. Why do I feel like this would be an absolute blast for him.
✨
“Cardi, I look ridiculous,” you moaned, looking down at the elaborately embellished blue and gold gown you currently wore.
When he'd pulled this particular garment from the closet, you'd actually cackled at how utterly non-you it was. This was after you'd already forced yourself to don a garish brick red lipstick, a shade you normally wouldn't be caught dead wearing.
Being the sensible sweater-and-slacks girl you were, it never occurred to you that there would ever be an opportunity to change that. At least, until you found yourself in a sort-of-situationship with Papa Emeritus IV. Until now, you hadn’t quite sealed the deal, at least not in the biblical sense, although not for a lack of trying. The blasted ghouls just had impeccable timing when it came to interrupting your stolen moments.
“Nonsense, sorella!” he chirped, smoothing out the neckline of the dress so it rested properly against your collarbone. “Beautiful, truly. Not that I do not think your usual attire does not seem, err, comfortable...”
You scoffed but couldn’t help but grin. It was obvious he was enjoying this, you being his little dress-up doll, and his almost childlike excitement in your agreement really was adorable. You also couldn't help but notice just how much his gaze lingered on your crimson lips. Now he was rattling around a jewelry box, muttering to himself as he compared delicately crafted pieces.
Despite feeling a little absurd, you had to admit your figure did look pretty spectacular in the dress and you ran your hands along your sides, admiring the silhouette in the mirror. As your eyes trailed over your reflection, you noticed Cardi standing awkwardly behind you, shifting on his feet as you caught where his eyes were lingering on your chest. Placing a hand on your waist, you cocked a hip to the side with a knowing look.
“O-oh, I, uh, I think this will work, erm, work nicely.”
Stepping up behind you, he brushed your hair to the side. (You also just so happened to notice he jumped slightly when his fingers brushed your bare neck.) Lifting his hands over your head, he gently placed a gorgeous gold necklace, heavy with gleaming onyx stones, around you, his shaking fingers attempting to fasten it at the back of your neck.
“Need some help?” you teased.
“No, no. Just, uh, a moment. It’s very old, you see.”
Once the clasp was fastened, he gathered your hair and smoothed it back into place, gazing at your shared reflection with shining eyes.
“Bellissima, sorella.”
Something in your stomach tightened as you watched his eyes trail along your body, his mouth slightly agape, before he brought his hand to your waist. The tentative nature in his touch, the way he almost seemed to expect to be rejected, it was enough to break your heart. But the thought that he was also acting so shyly was in part due to his obviously wanting to rip the extremely expensive dress right off your body was enough to make you desperately wish he would.
Slowly, you leaned back, letting yourself gently press against his body, making him let out a contented hum as his eyes fluttered closed. Bringing his face in close, he rested his chin on your shoulder as he wrapped both arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. You couldn’t help letting out a soft chuckle as the unmistakable hardness pressed into your back.
“Now that you’ve made me all pretty,” you purred, reaching up to stroke the side of his face. “Why don’t you help me out of this dress so it doesn’t get ruined?”
His eyes shot to yours in the reflection, a wicked grin now toying as his lips.
“Good idea, sorella.” Pressing his lips to the side of your neck, he gently began to slide the zipper of the gown down your back. “Although something is bound to get ruined tonight.”
I had to think of a Terzo request: prompts 17, 28, & 34 definitely suits him. And after all the pleasures you gave each other, there’s prompt 47 LOL
. . . I headcanon that intimacy with Terzo is usually heavenly and erotic, then something funny or silly happens.
Oh my goddddd I love this and SAME. I feel like giggling with Terzo would be an experience few get to share but would be an utter delight. Also I'm sorry it took this long. I love Terzo too much for a quick fic.
[17.] finally succumbing to the thick tension & colliding feverishly.
[28.] the wrecked way they say your name for the first time.
[34.] their composure cracking for the first time, they finally stop holding back.
[47.] the shaky laugh when neither of you can remember where your shirt is.
You can't even remember what sparked the conversation or even what possessed you to approach him, but even more surprising was just how quickly he picked up on your flustered state. There was just something about him that brought out the more brazen side of you, yet his deliberately seductive nature left you feeling both giddy and emboldened.
“So, Papa-”
“Terzo, please.” He leaned in close, hovering over you as he stood beside your barstool dropping his voice to a husky whisper. “It will be easier to scream tonight than my full title.”
With that sentiment, he planted his foot on the bottom rung of your stool. Directly between your legs. The movement was so casual that it could almost be passed off as unintentional, but you knew better. Nothing Terzo did was without intention.
“I suppose you think I'm just that easy, hmm?” you shot back with a knowing glance. “That I'm just going to fall into bed with you?”
Setting his whiskey on the table, he leaned in even closer, his elbow resting on his knee as he smirked at you.
“What makes you think we'll make it to the bed?”
Mercifully your room was close enough to stumble into. Although if it was any further you would have likely settled for fucking in the middle of the hallway, even if other guests had the audacity to complain. The door had barely closed before Terzo pulled you into a ravenous kiss, clawing at your clothes as if the mere presence of them was offensive. Your top slid off with ease, carelessly discarded somewhere unbeknownst to you as you awkwardly kicked off your shoes, trying not to topple over. Luckily he held you steady, only breaking away from the contact to tug at the buttons of your pants after discarding his own shirt.
“You want this, yes? You wish me to do such unspeakable things to you, don't you, micetta?”
His fingers slid into your trousers, slowly trailing over your underwear at a cruelly teasing pace as his eyes pierced into yours.
“You have no idea how bad I fucking want this, Terzo.” The sentence escaped you in a ragged, breathless tone as you couldn't help but lean into his palm, pressing the heat of your sex against him.
“Say it again,” he growled, moving to press his lips roughly against your neck.
“I want you so fucking bad, Terzo.” This time your voice came out in a whine, so desperate and yearning you almost felt pathetic, if it wasn't for the immediate reaction your admission had on him. His fingers dug into your hair as he kissed you furiously, his hand finally slipped into your underwear, immediately diving into your heat, a moan escaping your lips muffled against his mouth. His fingers fucked into you with maddening dexterity, stretching and working your walls with impossible precision, every stroke hitting a sweet spot deep inside you.
“You still want this?”
He asked with a smirk, clearly knowing the answer but still wanting to draw it out of you. You nodded frantically wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you bucked your hips in tune with his rhythm. Carefully lifting you up so your legs could wrap around his waist, he walked you to the couch, his fingers still pumping expertly inside you. As he settled you down gently onto the couch, he agonizingly retreated his fingers but only to pull off your pants and toss them over his shoulder haphazardly before settling on top of you.
There was now a clear lack of restraint as his fingers dragged across your skin, groaning against you as his cock throbbed against your stomach. You reached down to pull at his own pants, shocked that they managed to stay on this long.
“Tell me what you need, micetta. Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”
He nipped at your ear, running his tongue along your throat, kicking off his trousers as he held his cock at your entrance.
“Fuck, Terzo,” you moaned, your voice breaking with want. “I want you to fuck me so hard I can't think.”
“Are you sure?” He growled dangerously. “If you ask this of me, I won't be able to hold back. This will ruin all other men for you, cara.”
“I don't fucking care. Just shut up and fuck me.”
A slew of Italian obscenities flooded from his mouth as he reached down to line himself up with your entrance, sliding his knee under your leg to fully open yourself to him. His eyes locked on yours, as your breath caught in your throat in brutal anticipation.
“Eyes on me, micetta.”
All at once he sunk into you, the exquisite pain of his cock filling you completely flooded every inch of your body with a rush of pleasure. The unrelenting snapping of his hip as he grinded himself into you, gripping you so tightly that you could only writhe helplessly underneath him.
“That’s it, cara, fuck, your cunt was made for- fuck!” Terzo’s voice trembled as his composure faltered, dropping his head to your shoulder as fucked into you with such a force you saw stars.
You’d had good sex before, great sex even, but goddammit Terzo was right; he was absolutely ruining all other partners for you.
You raked your fingernails down his back, making him hiss in pain yet also delight at your boldness, knowing the mark you would undoubtedly leave on his skin.
The couch creaked underneath your combined weight and exertion and for a moment, you were worried the legs would give out sending you both crashing to the carpet beneath you, but Terzo shifted, one leg on the floor while he sat up, hooking your legs around his waist and pulling you upward with his steel grip on your hips. He drove his cock even deeper into your depths, deeper than you ever thought physically possible. Your moans were near screams now as you gripped the arm of the couch behind your head, desperate for any anchor to the real world.
One hand left your thigh as his thumb found your sweet spot, rubbing furiously, jettisoning you into your peak. Every cell in your body was on fire as your orgasm rippled through you, your eyes clenched shut as you called out his name like a prayer. Waves of pleasure repeatedly crashed into you until your muscles throbbed and spasmed helplessly.
“That’s it, cum for me, micetta. Such beautiful sounds you make for me.”
With the last of your release pulsating through you, your cheeks burned and your throat feeling raw, but you forced yourself to open your eyes. Terzo’s steely gaze was solely focused on you, like your pleasure left him dazed and transfixed. You nodded weakly, encouraging him to fully lose himself in your heat. He leaned forward once more, gripping your face as he picked up his pace yet again, driving his cock into you in frenzied thrusts. As much as you could tell he was trying to regain control on some semblance of poise, it was obvious he was losing that battle. This pleased you greatly, knowing that you were able to bring him to his own breaking point, just as he had you.
“Eyes on me,” you dared speak, repeating his own wicked words with a smirk.
Immediately his eyes shot to yours, his ragged breaths between his moans becoming more and more desperate. Once again your nails dragged along his sweat-soaked skin, gripping his ass roughly and pulling him deeper into you, his cock perfectly hitting you exactly where you needed to reach your peak a second time.
In a shared moment of impeccable bliss, Terzo gave one final thrust, shuddering and convulsing as he emptied into you as your vision blurred, whimpering as you wrapped your arms around him. His cock twitched violently as ropes of his seed coated every inch of your depths, slotted so tightly against you that your legs were completely locked in place underneath his weight.
You don’t know how long you stayed there, both of you panting and gasping while you tried to bolster your resolve. Before you could stop it, you let out a brainless giggle as you bit your lip. Terzo, to your surprise, followed suit, chuckling as he pressed his forehead into your cheek. His hand cradled your face as he pulled you into a tender kiss, letting out an exhausted but contented sigh. The euphoric tranquility was short-lived however, as Terzo sat up, his eyes frantically sweeping the room.
“Cazzo, what time is it?!”
“It’s, erm…” you squinted at the clock on the bedside table, barely visible from your spot on the couch. “9:45…why?”
Terzo scrambled awkwardly to his feet, grabbing his trousers from the crumpled heap on the floor, cursing under his breath as he hopped on one foot to slide his foot into the pants leg.
“I had sound check twenty minutes ago,” he admitted through gritted teeth.
“Terzo, we weren’t even in this room twenty minutes ago!”
“I know, thank you, micetta,” he groaned, sweeping his damp hair away from his forehead as he muttered to himself.
Trying to mask your smile, you sat up and scanned the room for your own clothes but eventually, Terzo’s gaze met yours.
“I, uh, heh... unfortunately do not recall where I placed your shirt.”
"Don't worry about that, Terzo, jesus. You're already late!"
"Nonsense, cara! Only a boorish oaf would leave a lady so undone. Ah-" He reached down, pulling a shirt from the floor. "Cazzo, apologies, that one is mine."
While he offered an apologetic glace, you both erupted into easy laughter, both looking utterly spent, still clinging to a blissful haze.
"I give up. Surely they will understand a wardrobe malfunction."
Would you be interested in prompts… 15 & 17 with Secondo?
[15.] feeling the shape of their body through their clothes.
[17.] finally succumbing to the thick tension & colliding feverishly.
Admittedly I don't know Secondo as well as I probably should despite him being the first Papa I ever encountered, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
It was only by a stroke of luck you were here now, with him, in his private chambers. The Sister of Sin normally responsible for his post-ritual undress had taken ill and you were shocked when one of the Nameless Ghouls had knocked on your dormitory door, informing you of your duty for the evening.
Despite being in regular attendance for sermons and rituals, never once in your time with the Ministry had you been alone with him. Sure, you knew several Sisters had become, ahem, acquainted with their Papa, you’d never had the opportunity, let alone the confidence. Now you stood before him in his Papal regalia, wringing your hands nervously as you awaited his orders.
“It is about time, sorella, I was beginning-”
His voice cut short as he stopped to eye you curiously.
“Forgive me, Papa,” you said hastily, bowing your head. “Sister Sylvia asked me to step in for her this evening.”
Skeptically, he removed his mitre and handed it to you. Handling it like it was made of precious treasures, you gently rested it on its stand, taking extra care it would topple over the moment your hands let go.
“Well, your sorella and I have a trusted routine, you see. I expect you to follow this as well.”
“Of course, Papa. It is an honor.”
To your surprise, he let out a humorless scoff at the sentiment, rolling his eyes as he held his arms outward. You assumed this meant you were to help him out of his Papal robe, but as you approached, you realized with horror that you actually had no idea how to remove the blasted garment.
“Start at the waist.”
While he didn't seem displeased, his voice certainly didn't sound like he was all that impressed with your performance this far.
“R-right,” you stammered, quickly dropping to your knees. Even with his instruction, you still couldn't figure out what you where supposed to unhook first and you found yourself blindly trailing your hands over the front of the robe looking for any sign of a fastener. That is when it hit you that your hands had in fact been sliding up those toned, slender legs of his just underneath the lush fabric.
With a gasp you jumped back, embarrassment burning in your cheeks as you moved to his side, mercifully finding the button snap that held the arms in place. It’s not that you didn’t want to touch him, quite the opposite in fact, especially at this proximity, the intoxicating scent of his cologne filling your nose and heightening your senses. But you were here to do a job, at least, you thought that was why you were here.
“I do not believe this job requires the skill of a surgeon, but I see that the mere mention of a brain will be required for recruitment in the future.”
The emotionless tone of his voice hit you like a slap in the face and it was all you could do to hold back tears. When he glanced down at you, he let out another grunt of irritation, letting his arms fall to his sides as he shooed you away. As if glued to the floor, you stood there frozen in place as shame hung around you like a poisonous fog.
Stepping in front of the mirror, he made short work of the robe, flinging it over his head before holding it out towards you.
“The wooden hangar in the closet. Put it there. The right side.”
You nodded, scrambling to take the vestments and handling the sacred garment with the same care you'd given the mitre. When you turned back, he was already on your heels, standing so close it nearly scared you half to death. Now that he was down to a black dress shirt, he held out his wrists expectantly, the golden grucifix cufflinks gleaming as you reached forward with trembling hands. Even though it took several tries, you managed to actually get the metal chain unhooked, placing the cufflinks in the velvet box within the closet. Raising his chin to angle his head upward, you swallowed as you realized what you were meant to do.
Slowly, you brought your hands to the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning at his neck as you began to work your way downward. The backs of your fingers occasionally grazed his skin underneath, making your breath hitch in your throat each time you made contact.
As impatient as he seemed before, he did not appear to be irritated that you were taking your time with this task. In fact, was that perhaps a hint of a… smile?
“Perhaps… perhaps I should not have teased you so incessantly, sorella.”
Teased?
Looking down, his dark painted eyes met yours and there was an unexpected warmth behind them that caught you off guard. He stepped back, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and peeling it off, leaving him standing shirtless beside you as he fished through the rest of the clothes hanging in the closet, eventually pulling out a plain white button-down. Your eyes immediately shot to the floor, not wanting to encroach on the unspoken intimacy of watching him dress. Taking a damp cloth, he took a few swipes at his face, removing the last of the papal paints before donning a pair of black aviators.
As he buttoned the final few buttons, he turned back to you with a smirk, idly smoothing the thin line of his mustache.
“Sì, sorella. I was merely teasing you. I do believe Sister Sylvia would have replaced my razor with a scalpel if I'd demanded her on her knees.”
You blinked, trying to take in his words. Had he really been just trying to get a rise out of you? This whole time?
“Satanas, you look like you've seen a ghost. I am Papa Emeritus II, sì, and I have a reputation to uphold, but I am no tyrant. Please.”
He gestured his hand outward, ushering you towards the couch. As you settled into your seat, your mind was racing, watching him curiously as he poured two glasses of red wine from a crystal decanter.
“Here,” he held out the glass towards you, stroking your finger as you took it. “And please, accept my apologies. When I tease, I tease rough.”
As he settled beside you on the couch, he crossed his legs in your direction, leaning his arm behind your shoulders.
“I have seen you at many rituals, sorella. Yet you have not approached me after. This is very curious.”
“Oh,” you stammered, taking a nervous sip of wine. “I’m sorry, Papa. I guess ... I didn’t want to bother you.”
“I see. So you instead made me take it upon myself to rearrange my schedule to meet yours.”
Your eyes darted to his, giving him a gobsmacked stare, but now there was an undeniable smirk crossing his face as he looked you over.
“Did you really think your dear sorella just happened to fall ill on the one night your evening was free?”
He reached over, tucking your hair behind your ear, running his thumb along the soft shell.
“I have seen the way your eyes linger, dulce sorella. Your eyes betray this seeming lack of confidence. I can tell what it is you want, but I cannot deliver what you do not ask for.”
Your heart was pounding but your nervousness was quickly waning, paving the way for a feverish want aching in your core. Although you were grateful his ruse was over, part of you wished this was the part you could have jumped into immediately.
“So then, sorella,” he leaned in close, his eyes burning into yours with a look so hungry you felt practically naked already. His hand rested on your knee, his gloved fingers gently stroking the bare skin. “Tell me what it is you want.”
Again, you gulped, setting your glass down on the table beside you and turning your body towards him.
“You, Papa. I want you. I want you so badly it hurts.”
“Where does it hurt, sorella?” His fingers walked up your thigh, resting just below your sex. “Here?”
Nodding intensely, you forced yourself to take a breath, to not rush the tension his was taking such a delight in building.
“Perhaps, here as well?” Shifting his palm, he pressed his middle finger against your clit through your dress with a painful precision, making you gasp. “Sì,sì. This is desperate work, sister, and I’m afraid we only have so long to make up for this lost time. Now…”
He leaned in, hovering over you as you parted your legs, his hand unmoving as his fingers began to rub small circles with just enough pressure to leave you begging.
“Let Papa do what he does best. We will have our own little ritual right here. And I do believe it will be one you won’t soon forget.”
I've been resource gathering for YEARS so now I am going to share my dragons hoard
Floorplanner. Design and furnish a house for you to use for having a consistent background in your comic or anything! Free, you need an account, easy to use, and you can save multiple houses.
Comparing Heights. Input the heights of characters to see what the different is between them. Great for keeping consistency. Free.
Magma. Draw online with friends in real time. Great for practice or hanging out. Free, paid plan available, account preferred.
Smithsonian Open Access. Loads of free images. Free.
SketchDaily. Lots of pose references, massive library, is set on a timer so you can practice quick figure drawing. Free.
SculptGL. A sculpting tool which I am yet to master, but you should be able to make whatever 3d object you like with it. free.
Pexels. Free stock images. And the search engine is actually pretty good at pulling up what you want.
Figurosity. Great pose references, diverse body types, lots of "how to draw" videos directly on the site, the models are 3d and you can rotate the angle, but you can't make custom poses or edit body proportions. Free, account option, paid plans available.
Line of Action. More drawing references, this one also has a focus on expressions, hands/feet, animals, landscapes. Free.
Animal Photo. You pose a 3d skull model and select an animal species, and they give you a bunch of photo references for that animal at that angle. Super handy. Free.
Height Weight Chart. You ever see an OC listed as having a certain weight but then they look Wildly different than the number suggests? Well here's a site to avoid that! It shows real people at different weights and heights to give you a better idea of what these abstract numbers all look like. Free to use.
Let’s all say thank you @/cptnefarius (on insta & twttr) for the Copia pin-up prompt and @cruise-in-your-glow-bus for papa V pin-up prompt, absolutely love your brains 😌🫴🏻👑
summary: mornings on erid are always your favorite - especially when ryland can't keep his hands off of you.
CWs: 18+ MDNI!!!!!, explicit sexual content, fem!reader x ryland grace, very established relationship, post-project hail mary, unprotected p in v, fingering & oral (f!receiving), kissing, body worship? i guess? from both parties, no use of y/n, use of pet names, sassy and flustered and sickeningly sweet ryland grace i love you, fluff, fluff, and more fluff, morning sex, mentions of weight loss/weight gain (because of the journey to erid!), i think that's about it!
word count: 3.7k!
author's note: guys........idk what got into me with this one. i hope you all enjoy it though! i need him soooo bad. remember, you're legally required to tell me you liked this in the comments or reblogs 🗣️ i love you all!!!!
You've always been used to slightly hectic mornings. It was like a dance, in a way. A dance that was set to a rhythm moving a little too quickly for you to keep up with the steps. Manageable, sure, but…it was tiring to do the same dance at a pace you couldn't match.
That's why life on Erid has been so warmly embraced. The dance is a lot slower.
You wake up at your own pace every day. No more screaming alarms. No more societal weight on your shoulders. Just a deep, comforting warmth from the artificial sunlight streaming through your bedroom window and the knowledge that you never have to worry about going to your old 9-5 ever again.
You're the first to stir this morning. Now that Ryland doesn't exactly have any stars to save or a schedule to abide by, he's much more relaxed. Teaches later during the day when he's fully awake and regulated. Sleeps a lot more.
Actually, you hesitate to call it sleeping. It's more like he hibernates.
Either way, you wake up every morning with him glued to you. Today, he's got one arm slung over your stomach, wrapped around you so tightly that you couldn't get out of bed if you tried.
He's half on you and half on the mattress, legs tangled with yours and face buried in your neck. Each slow, deep breath he exhales cascades over your skin, warm and soft and comfortable. Comfortable in a way that you both still struggle to embrace after everything that happened to you aboard Mary.
Maybe that's why you started to stir. When the comfort of being in your own personal heaven settled too deeply in your bones and your nervous system started humming. When those very nerves told you it was too good to be true.
You bring one hand up to Ryland's back so you can rake your nails up and down the broad expanse of it. So you don't have to be alone in this internal, nervous humming. So he can shut it up for you.
It takes a few gentle swipes before his body responds with a soft twitch. That sudden little jolt makes you giggle. He responds with a tightening of his arm around your waist. With a deeper nuzzling into the crook of your neck and some sort of little rumbled groan. With him unintentionally pulling you deeper into him, tucking you beneath him and pinning you down on the mattress underneath all of his weight.
You're grateful to feel his weight. So, so grateful. There was once a time where he hardly felt like anything; when he was skin and bones and you woke up every day thinking he'd be dead from starvation.
"Five more minutes," Ryland grunts against your neck. His voice is so deep. So thick and raspy with sleep. There's that excellent distraction for your brain, that soothing little swan song you needed.
Not so soothing to the heat growing between your legs, though.
"Let's go for a walk on the beach," you whisper, pressing a soft kiss on his temple and tapping his back between his shoulder blades. You want nothing more than to stay in bed with him here, but the cold water will do you good.
"We have all day for that," he sleepily murmurs. Pushed it out through a yawn before somehow pulling you even deeper into him. Probably because he wrapped his other arm around your waist. Definitely no chance of escape, now.
"Laziness doesn't flatter you, Ryland Grace," you tease. A gentle scolding. Completely unserious judging by the smile on your face that made it sound like a compliment instead of a fussing.
But it gets him to lift his head. He pushes himself up on one forearm after releasing it from your waist and pressing it into the mattress right next to your head. Now, he's hovering over you.
And he looks beautiful.
Sleep-heavy, lidded eyes that light up when they land on you. Messy bed-hair sticking out in all directions. He keeps complaining about how he needs to cut it, but he never does. Thick stubble that's a little overgrown and stretches down to his neck. A smirk on his face that you couldn't wipe off of it no matter how hard you scrubbed at it.
That heat bubbling up in your lower half is starting to boil. Him being so comfortable and cozy is like some sort of kryptonite for you.
"We saved two whole planets. I think we deserve to be lazy sometimes."
He punctuates that last, cooed sentence by leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on your lips. You smile into it. It's impossible to not smile around Ryland.
You hum against his lips while you wrap your arms over his shoulders. Anything to pull yourself closer to him is something you'll do. If you could climb in his skin, you would—and he'd definitely do the same for you.
"You're very persuasive," you mutter. The gentle opening of your mouth to speak those words gives him the upper hand; he slips his tongue into the kiss. That heat's boiling over, now. Making a mess with only a hint of the fire you're accustomed to enduring from him.
You can't handle it for long. It's only a few seconds before you pull back to breathe, to regain a semblance of your composure. He eats it up, of course. Starts to kiss down your jaw and neck, his stubble tickling your sensitive skin almost as much as his delicate kisses are.
"Ry," you breathe.
"Hmm?"
Your hips raise, pressing against his for a brief, glorious moment in time. Your legs seemingly have a mind of their own when they lift off the bed and wrap around his waist. He nips at the soft, sensitive spot just beneath your ear.
"Shit!" you squeak, high-pitched in a way that mirrors so many of his own squeals in Mary. Those thoughts would make you laugh if you weren't so turned on.
"Don't tease," you beg. A loud, pathetic plea that has him smiling against your skin.
"I'm not teasing," he counters. You'd almost forgotten about his other arm being around your waist. It makes itself known, though, when he slides his hand toward and rests it on your hip. His fingers drum against the soft give of your waist, then he chuckles at you.
"Just taking it nice and slow. You know, because we have all the time in the world."
You roll your eyes. Smart ass.
"You have time for this, but not for a walk on the beach?"
Your playful ribbing falls on his selective-hearing ears, because Ryland simply continues kissing down your neck. His hand slides up your hip and toward the hem of your oversized t-shirt, his fingers taking their sweet time caressing your skin and shooting shivers up and down your spine.
"I'll take you to the beach after this, baby," he murmurs against your collarbone. The beach isn't exactly on the forefront of your mind when he ends up pushing your shirt up your stomach and over your chest.
"I'll be too tired to walk," you whisper. It was all the power you could muster. He steals most of your ability to speak when he sucks your left nipple into his mouth. His tongue circles the sensitive, peaked bud a couple times before he sucks on it. Earns him a soft little whimper; one stuck in your chest that had no chance of staying there as soon as he pounced on you.
You're not sure what the hell has gotten into him, but you're grateful for it.
Somewhere in the mix of dealing with your pride and the ache between your legs, you regain the ability to use your hands. They find his head, your fingers beelining for his hair so you can tangle them in his thick, unruly locks. When they curl against his scalp, he hums against your chest. It isn't long before he's pulling off of your nipple with a soft pop. A lewd pop. Something that lit a fire beneath your face judging by the heat welling up in your cheeks.
"I'll carry you down there. Won't have to walk," he finally answers now that his mouth isn't full. A cheeky wink accompanies his bravado.
"You're gonna carry me down to the beach?"
"Mhm," he confirms. "Down all those steps. Gotta put these Hail Mary muscles to use, right?"
"What are you showing off for?" you ask through a giggle. You tap the tip of his nose with your index finger.
"You got the girl. Don't need to win her over."
He blushes. So soft and hardly there that you'd miss it if you blinked. A faint pink color slowly spreads over his cheeks, and his nose, and up to his ears, and down his throat. He attempts to cover it with a nonchalant little huff.
"Doesn't mean I can't spoil her," is what he shoots back at you. All fake confidence and very flustered, very real adoration.
Before you can laugh at him again, he shuts you up by giving you a quick kiss. He ends up moving down your chest and toward your stomach. The kisses he plants on you are still soft despite how hot and heavy things are between you. Still sweet. Gentle and reverent. And each one makes you melt beneath him. Makes your chest heave. Gives your lower half a mind of its own as your hips buck up to bump against his.
Ryland's quick moving hands snap you out of his little ritualistic worship routine. You were so focused on his featherlight kisses all over your body that you hadn't even felt them glide down your sides, then hips, then thighs. They leave goosebumps in their wake. Warm palms be damned; he knows exactly how to make you shiver.
His grip on the sensitive skin on your upper thighs is a little rougher than you're accustomed to from him, but…it's welcomed. Ryland is usually so delicate with you. It's nice to be manhandled when he's desperate for you.
He pins your legs down on your mattress after delicately pulling your panties off of them. Sometimes, you miss Earth. If you were doing this with him back home with an unlimited supply of underwear, you would have let him rip that flimsy little piece of cotton right off of you.
You don't get to ruminate on it for very long, though. Ryland's too busy distracting you when he descends. He dives into you the same way every time. A quick but gentle dip of his head. The soft press of his tongue against your needy, attention starved clit. A few easy, lazy circles drawn on it to get you extra whiny. To tease you and hear how pretty you sound when you're desperate for him. To shoot lighting up and down your spine and make you punch out a guttural moan.
"Please, Ry," you drawl, hips raising to his mouth and left hand tangling in his hair.
It only takes one tug on the thick, messy strands nestled between your fingers to get him to bury himself deeper in you. To wrap his lips around your clit and suck. To push his middle finger into your pussy while slinging the other arm over your stomach just to keep your already-trembling body still.
Just a finger is almost too much to handle since you're so sensitive, but you relish in how it fills you up after you've been so empty. A keen bursts from your chest. Your back arches. Your thighs shake. You become very well acquainted with the stars that pop up in your field of view—especially with each particularly slow, heavy drag and push of his finger in and out of your audibly soaked cunt.
Ryland smiles against you. It's a snarky, self-righteous little smile; you know he's proud of himself, and he should be. He knows your body almost better than you do. Spent years mapping out exactly what gets you to your climax as quickly and as easily as possible. Knows every spot that makes you scream, makes you squirm, makes you come so hard that you forget your own name and only remember his while you're falling apart and belting it out.
There's nothing he loves more than making you feel good.
That's why you're not surprised when he adds another finger and starts curling them up with every thrust of his hand. When his fingertips brush over that sensitive little spot deep inside of you once, then ram into it again and again and again now that he's found it. When his tongue laves over your clit in between him suckling on it like he's starved and you're the food he needs to survive.
How the fuck could you have expected to hold out at this rate?
It's not gentle when you get there. Your body thrashes against the bed as if you have no control over it. Your thighs tremble and shake, desperate to clamp around his head and hold him closer to you so your orgasm isn't ruined. As you yank on his hair and cry out his name, the sweet promise of complete privacy makes everything feel that much better. Makes you that much louder.
Throughout it all, Ryland works you through it. Slows his fingers down, but he doesn't stop moving them. A soft push in, a soft pull out, repeated every few seconds; just enough to keep you grounded without overstimulating you. His tongue's attack on your clit has ceased, his mouth now pressing gentle kisses on your inner thighs while that very tongue purrs sweet nothings into your skin.
"That was beautiful, baby," he coos while gently pulling his fingers out of you. It's the only one of his compliments your steadily returning senses allow you to hear. He kisses up to your hips and waist. Brands his proud little smirk into your skin with each one.
"Think you got one more in you?"
"Ry," you whimper while extending your exhausted, heavy arms in his direction. Those big blue eyes blow wider than you've seen them in a very long time. He speeds up a little more, climbs up to you faster. The concern laced on his features asks you what his lips can't; asks if you're okay, if he's gone too far.
"I'll leave you if you don't give me another one," you whisper, one arm wrapping over his shoulders and your other hand pressing against his chest. While you crane up to plant soft, featherlight kisses on his face, he groans. The playful glare he shoots you when your head hits your pillow is full of fire, but it doesn't burn. Heats you up and makes you wind your legs around his waist for the second time this morning.
It seems like he's got you on a burner set on high today.
When he presses his lips into a thin line and shakes his head, you laugh at him.
"Don't do that! I thought I hurt you!" he hisses. Not entirely serious, but definitely a taste of that fiery little temper that made you fall in love with him all those years ago.
"Sorry," you push out through uncontrollable giggles. He gifts you a tiny smile; a gentle upward quirk of his lips. He couldn't stay mad at you no matter how hard he tried.
"Just," he cuts himself off with a scoff and rolls his eyes. Raises one brow and dips his face a little closer to yours. Enough to push your foreheads together and allow you to nuzzle your nose against his.
"Don't do that again."
"Or what?" you challenge. You pat his chest softly, fingers brushing over his collarbones before your hand glides down his bare skin and toward his abdomen. You want to drag your nails through the patch of hair beneath his belly button and disappears into his underwear.
On the way down, you couldn't help but admire the softness of his body. The added weight. The extra padding covering his chest and abs and his much thicker arms. He was so lean on Mary that he bordered on ripped. Near starvation before you arrived on Erid had him showing almost every bone in his body.
Now, in your comfort and security on Erid, those harsh ab lines have become more faint. Harder to see. Drool-worthy material. Absolutely intoxicating. It's a miracle that you can get anything done when he's around. Especially when he's shirtless. Although, when he wears a shirt, it's almost worse—they've become a little too tight.
Ryland keeps himself hovering over you by leaning on one forearm. Tries to sneakily and quickly push his boxer briefs down with the other hand, but fumbles a little because he's too busy staring at you. He'll never be able to hide the fact that he loves when you eye him up. Or when you feel him up a little.
Something quite surprising that you've learned about him: A tiny amount of objectification goes a long way with Ryland Grace.
"Are you gonna stop fucking me if I do it again?"
Ryland laughs at you. Lets out a tiny, quick sigh of relief as soon as he releases himself from the confines of his underwear. When he glides the hard length of his cock through your slick, messy cunt, hips rolling back and forth a few times, he shudders. You gasp and throw your head back, twitching and whining each time the blunt tip of it brushes against your sensitive, puffy clit.
"You know that'll never happen," he bites. Can't even play along with your teasing because he's too interested in continuing. He positions himself at the entrance to your cunt and pushes in. Nice and slow, just like he said you'd be taking everything this morning.
The pleasure is agonizing, almost. A thick, deep stretch—one that aches more with each inch he gives you. One you can't get enough of. One that has you gripping his shoulders and digging your nails into his hot, soft skin.
Ryland's head falls into the crook of your neck. His shaky, shallow breathing splays out over where it meets your shoulder. Warms it when it washes over the thin, damp sheen of sweat coating your skin. His hips meet yours, and he stills. Keeps you pinned into the mattress with his weight. With the heft of his cock filling you up.
"Good lord," he groans. "So…so tight."
The shakiness of his voice is hard to miss; you've got him struggling already, and he hasn't even moved. You'd tease him if you could suck in a full breath and form the words.
"And—oh, Christ."
He cuts himself off with a hiss. Bucks his hips up despite being fully sheathed in you, shooting a searing little pain through your body that gives way to nothing but warm, whole-bodied pleasure. You writhe, and an unintelligible string of praise for him leaves your lips, and you drag your nails down his back.
"So warm. Feels so good, baby." He punctuates that one with a soft, breathy whine against your neck. Then he starts moving. Deep, slow thrusts. In and out, in and out. Enough to make your sweat-slicked skin glide together, and your thighs shake, and your toes curl.
How is he so good at this? It's like every time you sleep together, it's the best time you've ever slept together.
You toss your head back, unable to control the loud moan that bursts from your chest at his praise. Your walls flutter around him. You arch off of the mattress. You claw down his back again. You allow yourself to tighten your legs around his waist, and to strike up a fiery, rough kiss, and to lose yourself in how good it all feels. To lose yourself in him.
"I love you," he mumbles against your lips in the midst of a particularly deep, slightly rough thrust. Had to wait until your teeth and tongues had stopped clashing together to say it. The quickness in which he pushed that little loving declaration out tells you just how desperate he was to say it. Like it'd been hiding in his throat for an eternity.
You babble it back to him. At least, you think you do. You murmured something to him, and you cried out his name, and you stayed aware just long enough to hear him laugh at you before he started pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and neck and pawing at your clit with the hand he wasn't using to prop himself up above you.
You must have came. That's the only explanation you have for when you come back to Erid and find yourself being cradled against Ryland's chest while he runs his fingers through your messy hair and whispers the sweetest, softest compliments into your ear.
You shift a little. Tighten your own hold on his waist and groan at the ache deep within your muscles. It's like they're being stretched and set on fire all at once, but it's all worth it.
"There you are," Ryland whispers. He brands a smile into your temple and hugs you so tightly that your spine almost snaps in two. You laugh—albeit weakly—and nuzzle your face in his neck when he rolls on top of you.
"Ry," you wheeze, "you're crushing me."
He wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles deeper into you. Apparently, he's not too concerned about your inability to breathe. Here's your evidence about him wanting to climb into your skin.
"Just trying to get comfortable," he mutters into your neck. You huff. At this point, you're right back where you started this morning before you woke him up.
You lift one hand up to his back. Right between his shoulders. Your fingers brush over the soft, raised ridges of the scratches you left on his bare skin, and you smile. Your voice is hoarse and full of adoration when you find it again.
