Dragon Hybrid Butler that can't help but let his eyes rove over you every time he thinks you aren't looking. You can feel the heat of his gaze on you, roaming up and down your body.
Dragon Hybrid Butler that tuts as you trip over his carefully placed tail, causing you to fall forward into him. His hand is so firmly helping you keep balance against him, yet also keeping you pressed close to him.
Dragon Hybrid Butler who might just be peeping around your privacy screen as he waits for you to change your clothing. You can tell, but why would you point it out when his attention feels so good?
Dragon Hybrid Butler who can't help himself, palming his cock over his pants when you reach down to pick something up. It would be so easy for him to simply lift your skirts and take you right there, you know.
Dragon Hybrid Butler that can't help himself, his tail now coiling around your thigh as he hopelessly ruts into you, apologizing for his indecency to his mistress, but continuing no less.
Dragon Hybrid Butler is a creature of greed, you see, and you're simply his most precious treasure. It was only a matter of time before he finally stuck his claim on- well, in- you.
When you return to your family’s rural estate to escape city burnout, you find the barn still watched over by Kael—a towering, scarred Minotaur widower who hasn’t touched anyone since his wife died.
kinks: size difference, age gap, slow burn tension, mutual pining, reluctant attraction, possessiveness, emotionally starved touches, body worship, scent kink, rut-like desperation, rainy night isolation, dominant x hesitant dynamic, hayloft setting, soft aftercare,begging, praise kink, soft dom energy
word count-4163 word
The gravel road to your family’s place felt longer than you remembered.
Maybe it was the storm clouds rolling low over the hills, or the way the trees bent under the weight of the wind, but everything about coming back here carried a heavy finality, like there was no version of this where you drove away again tomorrow.
You hadn’t been back in five years.
The city had burned you out—your phone constantly buzzing, deadlines stacked like bricks on your chest, the noise and lights keeping you awake. You’d convinced yourself you’d be back for a weekend, maybe two, just enough to breathe. But the moment you saw the white-fenced fields and the red roof of the barn, you knew you’d been lying to yourself.
Your father wasn’t there to greet you—he’d passed the estate into the hands of caretakers years ago. But the land was still here. The barn still stood.
And he was still here, too.
You hadn’t seen Kael since you were nineteen.
He had always been part of the farm, as much as the old apple trees or the stubborn goats that chewed on laundry lines. Your father’s “old friend,” he’d said once, though you knew there was more to it than that.
Kael was a minotaur—towering, broad-shouldered, his horns sweeping back like carved onyx. The city had never seen anything like him. The estate was one of the few places he could live undisturbed, tending the fields and repairing fences in peace.
When you were a young adult, he’d been a distant, intimidating figure. Always polite, always reserved—but when you’d walked through the barn to sneak a cookie to the barn cats, his gaze had followed you, quiet and heavy, like a storm gathering over a horizon.
You told yourself you imagined it.
By the time you carried your bags up to the old farmhouse porch, rain had started.
You almost didn’t notice the barn door was open, lantern light spilling out into the gloom.
Something about it pulled you there.
You stepped inside, the smell of hay and cedar washing over you in a wave of memory. The barn looked the same—wooden beams darkened with age, tools lined neatly on the wall—but there was something warmer, lived-in about it now.
A low sound rumbled from deeper inside—almost like a sigh.
You froze.
“Didn’t expect you before sundown,” a voice said, deep and gravelly.
Kael stepped from the shadows.
He was… bigger than you remembered.
Age hadn’t dulled him. If anything, it had carved him into something more formidable. His chest and arms looked like they’d been sculpted out of work—hard labor and years of it. His hair was darker now, threaded with the faintest silver. The horns sweeping from his temples gleamed, polished, and a scar cut across his left shoulder, pale against tan skin.
His eyes found you instantly.
And you felt nineteen again, caught in that heavy, quiet gaze.
“You’ve grown,” Kael said after a pause, his voice low enough you could feel it in your chest.
You laughed, awkward. “It’s been years.”
He nodded once, like that explained anything. There was a silence—thick, not uncomfortable exactly, but weighted. The storm outside deepened, wind clawing at the barn walls.
“You shouldn’t be out in this weather,” Kael said finally, glancing at the door. “Storm’ll flood the lower fields.”
You should have gone back to the house. You should have unpacked, or called someone, or done anything except what you did next.
You stepped closer.
“I wanted to see if you were still here,” you admitted.
His brows knit together, the smallest crack in his composure.
You’d seen the dark clouds rolling in from the east while unpacking in your father’s old farmhouse, the one you hadn’t set foot in since you were barely old enough to drive. The air had been heavy, humid — a weight pressing into your skin. Now, as dusk settled, the rain finally broke loose, hammering against the tin roof with a sound so loud it drowned out everything else.
You were supposed to have gone back into town hours ago, but the road was flooded, the bridge a swirling torrent of brown water and debris. Your father had warned you this might happen, but you hadn’t expected to get stuck — and certainly not here, in the creaking barn, while lightning painted the rafters in brief flashes of white.
“You shouldn’t have come up here alone,” Kael rumbled, voice low and deep enough you felt it in your chest.
You shifted on the bale of hay you’d perched on, hugging your knees. “I didn’t have much of a choice. The bridge is flooded.”
One of his ears flicked, like he didn’t quite trust the storm not to betray you both. He took a step closer, hooves heavy on the wooden floor. The barn felt smaller every time he moved.
“You’ll stay until morning,” he said finally.
It wasn’t a question.
It should have been awkward — the storm, the isolation, the man you barely knew looming in the same space — but there was something else threading through the night.
It had been there from the start, really, the moment you’d walked into the barn hours earlier, rain dripping off your jacket, and he’d turned to look at you.
You couldn’t explain the way his gaze felt. It wasn’t just seeing you — it was taking you in, sweeping from the curls clinging damp to your cheeks to the soft slope of your hips under your jeans. You’d felt flushed beneath it, though his expression hadn’t shifted, his dark eyes steady, unreadable.
And now, sitting across from him in the hayloft, with the rain an unending curtain around you both, you felt that gaze again.
It was too quiet between claps of thunder.
You licked your lips, then immediately regretted it when you saw Kael’s nostrils flare. His breathing changed, not dramatically, but enough that you heard it — a slightly deeper inhale, the faintest hitch before he exhaled again.
“Do you ever…” you started, then hesitated.
Kael’s head tilted, the weight of those horns shifting with the motion. “Ever what?”
You fiddled with the frayed hem of your sleeve. “Get lonely out here?”
The silence stretched. Then:
“Yes,” Kael said simply.
His voice was so low it was almost a growl, but there was something unguarded in the honesty.
You found yourself studying him in the flicker of lantern light — the roughness of his hands, thick fingers tipped with short, blunt nails; the faint white scar cutting across his broad chest, vanishing under the edge of his open shirt; the way his tail swayed slightly behind him, slow and heavy.
“You don’t leave the farm much, do you?” you asked softly.
Kael shook his head. “Not much reason to.”
“Do you…” You hesitated, then pushed on. “Do you have anyone? Out here, I mean.”
You weren’t sure what answer you expected. Maybe a brusque “no,” maybe silence.
What you didn’t expect was the look in his eyes as he turned to you fully.
“My wife,” he said quietly. “She died. Years ago.”
Your breath caught.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
Kael’s jaw shifted, like he was clenching it against something, but his voice stayed steady. “She was… everything.”
You wanted to say something — anything — but the words tangled in your throat. You just watched him, the stormlight glancing off his horns, his chest rising and falling slow and heavy.
He looked at you then, and this time you couldn’t mistake it. The way his eyes softened, the way his breathing thickened.
“You remind me of her,” he said.
The words hit you like a physical thing.
You didn’t know who leaned closer first.
One moment you were sitting there, heart pounding, and the next Kael was kneeling in front of you, his massive frame folding down with surprising grace.
He was so close now you could see the individual hairs on his muzzle, the way they shifted when he exhaled. His breath was warm against your face, smelling faintly of hay and rain and something deeper, muskier.
“Kael…” you whispered, unsure if it was a question or a warning.
His hand came up, slow enough you could stop him if you wanted. But you didn’t.
His palm cupped your cheek, the pads of his rough fingers brushing your skin like he was afraid you might break.
“You’re soft,” he murmured.
You felt heat rush to your face, your body. “I–I…”
He didn’t wait for you to finish.
The kiss was tentative at first — an unsure meeting of mouths, awkward in angle with the difference in your faces, but somehow perfect anyway. His lips were warm, surprisingly gentle for someone so large, and he tasted faintly of rain.
The second kiss was deeper.
Kael shifted, bracing one hand on the hay bale beside you, the other sliding to the back of your head. You felt his thumb stroke along your jaw as his mouth moved against yours, hesitant at first, then hungrier when you didn’t pull away.
Your hands found his chest without thinking, pressing against the fabric of his open shirt. The heat of him was immediate — he radiated it, like a furnace under skin and fur.
When you made a small sound — a soft, surprised noise when his tongue brushed yours — Kael groaned low in his chest, a sound so deep you felt it vibrate through you.
It should have stopped there.
But neither of you moved.
Kael drew back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting lightly against yours. His breath was heavy, warm against your lips.
“I haven’t—” he started, then stopped, like the words were too hard to shape.
You swallowed. “Haven’t what?”
He searched your face. “Been with anyone. Since her.”
The confession landed heavy, but not with shame — with need.
Your chest ached at the vulnerability in his voice.
“It’s okay,” you whispered.
Kael’s eyes darkened, and for a moment the air between you changed — something sharper, needier threading through the tenderness.
His thumb stroked your cheek again, but slower now, like he was memorizing you.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured.
You were — from nerves, from the sheer enormity of him in front of you, from the way your body responded to his closeness.
“I’m not scared,” you said softly.
Kael made a noise deep in his throat — half groan, half growl — and leaned in again.
This time the kiss wasn’t tentative.
Your back hit the hay bale as Kael kissed you, harder now, his large hands framing your face, then your shoulders. His tongue teased at your mouth until you let him in, until you clutched at his shirt, breathless.
He broke the kiss with a sharp inhale, pressing his forehead to yours.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he rumbled, voice strained.
“Maybe I do,” you whispered back.
Kael’s hands trembled where they held you — just slightly, but you felt it.
He cupped your waist, his fingers spanning almost entirely across your sides, rough and warm through the thin fabric of your shirt.
“You’re… soft,” he said again, this time lower, almost reverent.
Your breath hitched when his thumb brushed under the hem, grazing bare skin.
“Kael…”
He froze, searching your face for any trace of uncertainty.
But you weren’t pulling away.
Your heart thundered as you reached up, cupping his jaw — feeling the coarse fur, the powerful lines of his face.
“I want you to,” you said, the words shaky but true.
Kael let out a sound you’d never heard from anyone — a low, desperate growl that rumbled through his chest.
His hands slid higher, bunching your shirt, then stopping, holding, trembling.
“I don’t want to scare you,” he rasped.
“You won’t.”
The storm raged outside, but all you heard was him.
The rasp of his breathing, the faint grind of his teeth when he pulled you closer, the heavy thump of his tail behind him like he couldn’t stay still.
Kael leaned in again, kissing you softer now — but the craving was there, barely held back. His lips moved against yours like he’d been starving for this, for you.
Your fingers tangled in his damp mane, tugging gently, and he groaned, a sound that made your stomach flip.
When his hand brushed higher, under your shirt this time, his palm spread against your bare stomach, you gasped.
He froze.
“Too much?” he asked, voice tight.
“No,” you whispered, breathless.
His thumb stroked across your skin, slow, reverent, as if he was worshiping the feel of you.
“You’re warm,” he murmured.
“So are you.”
Kael bent his head, pressing his face into your neck — and inhaled.
The sound he made — a deep, shuddering breath, followed by a low growl of approval — sent heat rushing through you.
“You smell…” He trailed off, like the words were caught in his throat. “Sweet.”
You felt your cheeks flame.
His tongue flicked against your throat — a tentative, tasting touch — and you gasped.
That one sound undid him.
Kael’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, until you were almost in his lap, your body pressed against his broad chest. His kisses turned messy, desperate, landing along your jaw, your cheek, your mouth again.
“Kael,” you breathed.
He shuddered, his hands gripping your waist — rough hands, careful, like he couldn’t decide whether to crush you to him or cradle you.
“I can stop,” he rasped, even as his thumbs stroked your skin like he couldn’t let go.
You shook your head, heart hammering. “Don’t.”
Kael groaned, a sound of restraint breaking.
His lips claimed yours again, harder this time, and his hands moved — sliding lower, squeezing, exploring the curve of your hips like he’d been dreaming of it.
You gasped when his teeth grazed your lower lip, and he immediately pulled back, eyes dark with worry.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“Don’t be,” you whispered.
Your hands framed his face, pulling him back in.
The kiss that followed was soft again, but it carried heat, promise — and something that felt dangerously like the beginning of surrender.
The hay smelled sweet and damp around you, the storm outside still thrashing, but the world felt narrowed to Kael’s breath, his hands, the way every inch of him seemed to lean toward you and hold back all at once.
Your shirt had ridden up under his palms. His thumbs traced slow circles over your ribs like he was memorizing every line of you, rough hands treating you like spun glass.
“Kael…” your voice was barely more than breath, and you felt him still.
The way he looked at you—dark eyes searching your face, almost pained—made your stomach flip.
“You’re sure?” he rumbled, the question low and trembling.
You nodded. “I want this. I want you.”
Something in him broke at those words.
The next kiss was hungry.
Kael’s mouth devoured yours, a soft groan vibrating through his chest as if he’d been starving for the taste. He kissed like a man dragging breath after too long underwater—messy, desperate, grateful.
Your back pressed into the hay bale, his weight bracketing you in, big hands sliding lower until they found the hem of your jeans.
When his fingers hesitated at the button, you reached for him, unfastening it yourself with trembling hands. His breath hitched, nostrils flaring as he inhaled sharply.
“Sweet,” he muttered, almost like he didn’t mean to say it aloud. His voice cracked on the word.
Your jeans slid down clumsily over your hips, his huge hands helping, careful even as his urgency showed. He made a low sound when you were left in just your underwear, a deep rumble that sent heat through you.
Kael looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were real—like he’d been imagining this moment for years.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, voice almost reverent.
Your cheeks burned. No one had ever looked at you this way.
He tugged at his own shirt, baring his chest—and your breath caught.
Kael was broad and scarred, a tapestry of old wounds across skin and fur. There was one across his ribs, a pale white line that disappeared toward his side. Without thinking, you reached for it.
Your fingers traced the scar, feather-light. “What happened?” you whispered.
“Long ago,” he said simply, voice rougher than before. “Doesn’t matter now.”
You bent forward anyway, pressing a soft kiss to that scar.
Kael froze. Then he made a sound that was almost a whimper.
“Don’t,” he said, but it came out broken—not rejection, but the sound of someone being undone.
You kissed it again, slower this time, then kissed another, and another.
His control snapped.
The next thing you knew, Kael’s arms were around you, hauling you into his lap like you weighed nothing. You gasped, instinctively grabbing his shoulders as you settled astride him, your thighs bracketing his hips.
The position was intimate—shockingly so. You could feel the heat of him between your legs, the sheer size of him pressing against you even through his trousers.
“Oh,” you breathed, the sound embarrassing and honest.
Kael groaned, the noise low and guttural. “You feel that?”
You nodded, cheeks flaming.
He cupped your hips, guiding you to shift just slightly. The friction made your breath hitch.
Kael’s head tipped forward, horns angling down, and he buried his face in your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, his tongue flicking once—just enough to make you gasp.
“You smell like rain,” he growled softly, “and something sweeter. Gods, you’re driving me—”
His words cut off into another groan as you rolled your hips, an instinctive grind against him.
“Sweetheart,” he groaned, the endearment rough, almost strangled. “Don’t—don’t do that unless you want—”
“I do,” you whispered.
The sound he made wasn’t human.
Kael’s mouth found yours again, harder this time, teeth grazing, tongue claiming. One of his big hands slid up your back, the other anchored at your hip, holding you in place while you ground against him again and again, your body already trembling.
The rain outside blurred into noise. All you could hear were his growls, your gasps, the slick sound of your lips meeting again and again.
“Need to feel you,” he muttered against your mouth. “Skin on skin.”
His fingers hooked in your underwear and slid them down, lifting you slightly to get them past your thighs.
Cool air kissed your bare cunt—and then Kael’s rough hand did.
You whimpered, head tipping back as his fingers traced over you, careful despite the way his breathing had turned frantic.
“Kael—”
“Soft,” he muttered, almost worshipful. “So soft.”
He dipped lower, and when one thick finger brushed through your slick heat, you gasped loud enough the sound echoed off the barn walls.
Kael groaned, head tipping back. “Gods, you’re— You’re ready for me.”
Your whole body flushed at the words, the blunt truth of them.
“Touch me,” you breathed.
He did.
Slow at first, a single thick finger sliding inside you, stretching you in a way that made your breath stutter.
“Oh,” you gasped, clutching his shoulders.
Kael kissed you again, swallowing your moan as his finger curled. Then he added another.
You whined softly, the stretch more intense now, and he immediately stilled.
“Too much?” he asked, voice strained.
You shook your head, panting. “Just… big.”
Kael made a sound halfway between a growl and a purr, kissing your temple.
“I’ll make it good for you,” he murmured. “Promise.”
His fingers moved again, slow and deliberate, coaxing instead of demanding. Each curl brushed a spot that made your hips jerk, made you whimper into his shoulder.
He whispered soft praise against your ear—“good girl… taking me so well… so sweet for me…”—until you were clinging to him, trembling.
When you gasped his name, breathless, he pulled his fingers free.
“Kael,” you whined at the loss.
“Shh,” he soothed, kissing your cheek. “I’ve got you.”
You barely had time to catch your breath before he shifted, fumbling with his own trousers.
And then—
Your eyes widened.
Kael was huge.
Not just in proportion to his size, but in a way that made your throat go dry. Thick, heavy, flushed dark at the tip—your breath hitched just looking at him.
Kael saw your expression and froze. “Too much?” he rasped.
You shook your head quickly, though your heart was pounding. “I… I want you.”
He groaned, the sound guttural. “Sweetheart, you don’t know what you do to me.”
He positioned himself under you, hands gripping your hips so tight you could feel the heat of his palms through your skin.
“This might…” He swallowed, forehead pressing briefly to your shoulder. “I might not be gentle the whole time.”
You cupped his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “I trust you.”
Kael’s breath shuddered out of him.
“God help me,” he growled softly, “I’m going to ruin you.”
He guided you down.
The blunt head pressed against you, and even that made you gasp, your body instinctively clenching.
Kael groaned, deep and almost pained, his grip tightening.
“Relax,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. “Let me in.”
You tried.
Slowly, so slowly, he eased you down.
The stretch was intense—you felt every thick inch, felt your body strain to take him.
“Oh—oh,” you gasped, clutching his shoulders.
“You’re—” his voice broke into a growl, “—so tight. God, so good.”
Halfway down, you whimpered, hips trembling.
Kael froze instantly. “Too much?”
You shook your head frantically, though tears pricked your eyes at the sheer fullness. “Just—need a second.”
Kael kissed your temple, whispering, “Breathe. That’s it. Breathe, sweetheart.”
When you nodded, he moved again—slow, steady, letting you take him.
Finally—finally—you sank fully onto him, your body stretched wide around him, your hips pressed to his.
You whimpered at the overwhelming fullness, at the way every nerve felt lit.
Kael made a sound you felt in your bones, a growl of sheer restraint.
“God above,” he panted, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “You're… takin' all of me.”
For a moment, you just breathed together—his chest heaving, your heart pounding, his tail twitching against the wood.
Then you shifted your hips, experimentally.
Kael’s reaction was instant—a guttural groan, hands clamping on your hips.
But you did, just a little—rocking forward, then back, the motion instinctive.
Kael growled, low and dangerous, and his hands tightened, almost bruising.
“You’re testing me,” he rasped.
You whispered against his ear, “Maybe I want to.”
Something in him snapped.
Kael’s hips thrust up.
The sudden motion made you gasp—half pleasure, half shock—as he filled you deeper, harder.
“Fuck—!”
He groaned, teeth grazing your shoulder, his breath harsh. “Sweetheart, I can’t— You feel too good.”
He thrust again, bigger this time, his control fraying.
The size difference made every movement overwhelming—stretching, hitting places you didn’t know could be reached.
You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as you gasped and whimpered, each thrust shaking you.
Kael muttered praise between growls, words broken by his breathing—“so good for me… taking me… you’re perfect, god, perfect…”
When you moaned his name, he growled and pressed his mouth to yours, kissing you hard, swallowing every sound.
You lost track of the storm outside, of time itself—there was only Kael, his rough hands guiding your hips, his huge body moving under you, the sound of your breath and his low, feral noises blending. At some point, he pulled you tighter, chest to chest, his thrusts slowing—not to tease, but because he couldn’t bear to let you go.
“Ride me,” he whispered against your ear.
The words made you shiver.
You moved—tentatively at first, then faster, grinding down as his hands steadied you. The friction built, heat curling low in your belly.
Kael’s head tipped back, a broken growl spilling out.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “Take what you need, sweetheart. Take all of me.”
You did.
You came. Hard.
It tore through you in a wave, your body clenching tight around him, your cry muffled against his shoulder.
Kael snarled softly, hips jerking as your walls fluttered around him.
“God—you’re—” He bit off a curse, holding you still as his thrusts turned sharp, desperate.
“Kael,” you gasped, “I need—please—”
That single word—need—shattered him.
With a guttural growl, Kael thrust deep one last time and came, his whole body shaking as he emptied inside you, heat flooding you.
For a moment, neither of you moved—just held each other, breath mingling, the storm outside a dull roar.
Kael’s big hands trembled where they cradled you. He kissed your temple, then your cheek, then finally your mouth—soft, reverent.
“You okay?” he murmured, voice hoarse.
You nodded against him, still breathless. “More than okay.”
Kael groaned softly, pulling you tighter into his lap.
“Stay,” he whispered, almost pleading. “At least tonight. Let me hold you.”
You buried your face against his chest, listening to his heart thunder beneath the scars. Outside, the rain kept falling—but in the hayloft, wrapped in his warmth, you felt safe.
(lil funny bonus inspired by something @owlfangirl wanted to happen)
“Faster. Fuck,” the elf grunted, his long, slender fingers digging into your plump hips, dragging you down faster and harder on his cock.
A chorus of moans, whines and mewls fall from your lips as your swollen arousal pulses around him, eagerly encouraging him to push in as deep as he can while you try to impale yourself on him. The tip of his cock bumped your cervix each time you bounced down on him. He thrust up to try to push even deeper.
“That’s a good girl. Fuck. Even when you’re a Queen, you’re still just my whore, huh?” Eidhneán groaned, his ears flicked back as he felt his release approaching.
“D-don’t say that,” you whined, throwing your head back in ecstasy as he drove into your cervix again.
It only took a few more seconds for him to spill inside of you. His elf cock stretching your little human cunt; a creamy ring forming on the base of his cock as he continued to slowly slide you up and down on his throbbing length. Your already chubby stomach bulging slightly more with the sheer amount of cum that the elf had pumped into you.
You had never let him be bare inside of you before, always insisting that you couldn’t risk him getting you pregnant, at least until Leith and you had had a child or two together.
That made this close to heaven for the elf. His pathetic little human lover, so desperate for his cock that she broke her own rules.
“My love,” you cooed, panting as you looked down at him. Lust and adoration clear on your face.
A smirk stretched his face as he came up cup your cheek. “You did such a good job, baby.”
“You should have listened to me,” you sighed, still looking at him with adoration but also a hint of disappointment.
“What?”
“I wish you would listen to me, my love. If you did, maybe things could have been different,” you sighed.
In an instant, your jaw unhinged. Your teeth were needles, and the pain that coursed through Eidhneán’s body when your mouth closed around his head was so much more than white hot agony.
Eidhneán woke up in a cold sweat, clutching his throat where he had felt your teeth in his dream. His long hair was plastered to his forehead, his shoulders heaving as he looked over at the empty side of his bed where you often slept.
“What of the Gods?” he whispered, his ears trembling.
For elves, dreams were never just dreams, so what could this one have been trying to tell him?
Check out early access, exclusive stories and more on Patreon
I need more of him like I need more to breathe, he’s just so hot and protective all while being a little possessive. Just enough of a yandere to tickle the senses but he’d never hurt you.
I imagine sometimes after long hard days of work he drags you back into his dressing room. The room is dark except for the soft lights being cast from the vanity. And he brings you in between his legs as you start slowly wiping off all the makeup and glitter they had him put on at the start of his shift.
And the entire time he’d just stare up at you, watching with adoration in his gaze. Such a sweet thing like you taking care of him with tenderness he doesn’t think he deserves but yearns for.
His worship of your body is almost instinctive as he rubs his hands up and down your plush sides, feeling you fill out his large hands in the most delicious way. He just can’t resist tugging you forward straight into his lap, chuckling as you stumble, straddling his hips and feeling the insistent bulge waiting for you.
The sex is slow and lazy as his tentacle arms strip you and lift your body with ease till you’re sinking down on his cock, gasping as a few of his tentacle arms join in on the fun. You gaze into each others eyes, so much said and left unsaid with each smooth stroke.
Until he leans forward and kisses you so sensually your cunt flutters around his thickness and your moans echo into his frame.
He swallows them all greedily, devouring every last taste of you he can get. Till he can get you all to himself.
Alien Boyfriend who abducted you and, once he had you all to himself, knew he couldn't just bring you back to earth. Not when you were just such a perfect specimen, look at the way you trembled and whimpered along his ridged digits. There was so much to discover about your plump body, like what would cause this noise or that. What limits you could break and what would break you- he couldn't just keep you for one night!
And once he asked you about reproductive science, finding out that it was massively under-researched? Yeah, you could forget ever going home after that. He's going to learn everything, even more than any human researcher has yet to discover.
Orc boyfriend that just absolutely loves seeing you try his clothes on. He can't believe how much smaller than him his mate is. He watches you as you plop on the couch, wearing nothing other than his hoodie.
He's practically salivating, his dick is half hard already.
It isn't even 5 minutes into the show the two of you were going to watch before he's snaking his hands under the hoodie you stole and is groping at you, pulling you into his lap and grinding you against his now fully hard cock.
You suppose you can always just rewatch the show later.
Dragon Hybrid Boyfriend that claims you as part of his hoard. Not giving him attention? He'll fix that. Sure, the way he fixes it is by teasing you until you're a whimpering little mess and pleading for release, but can you blame him? One of his favorite treasures is you, and as a Dragon Hybrid he has to make sure you know that. Besides, do you even realize how cute you look when you're begging to cum? He does, and it's an image he won't soon go without.
