just here to read and look at fanworks 22 she/they/it Current Obsessions: Cult of the Lamb,A Date With Death, Date Everything, Tri City Monsters, Honkai: Star Rail, Dead By Daylight
There was an afab two time x reader smut fic i remember loving but I can't find it anymore </3 we did it with them in chances room after two time and chance got into a mini argument(?) and it was an awkward ending bc the rooms arent soundproof akhsjsh idc if im called a freak for it I thought it was a good fic but I can't remember if it was on a03 or Tumblr 💔
i haven't actually written anything pertaining to being coyle's little k9 unit despite constantly barking (🥁) about the concept as a whole whenever it's brought up... but if there's a time to change that, it's right now.
NSFW | Word Count: 1,515 | Leland Coyle x GN Ex-Pop!Reader *
* could be the Warden, could be its own vague category; left it up to whatever fits the bill for reader in this scenario ;)
contains CANON TYPICAL/DESCRIPTIONS OF GORE & COYLE NASTINESS, objectification, oral, power dynamic, daddy kink (with a dash of 'sir' to taste), cowgirl position/lap sitting, penetration, degradation kink, mild pain play & sadomaso
🎼: x
“Been hearin’ bitches in the walls…” He spoke in a slow drawl unlike the usual raving maniac he was. Even an electrocuted madman high off his own supply had to have down time after it was inevitably pried from his half-beaten and half-dead hands.
Sitting in a chair of the prison yard’s mess hall, you were his one living companion besides stalking ex-pop in the shadows. ‘Companion’ was something that helped you sleep at night. Curled up under tables or in rubble until he came stalking back around, whistling like he was calling out a prized hunting dog. You pride yourself on that, because you liked to think you were one. Again, it all helped you sleep at this point.
You rubbed your sore cheekbone against his inner knee, whining in sympathy as you looked up through your eyelashes at him. He shook his head at you, and went on, “Half the time, can’t even tell what’s real anymore. Gotta stay sharp, gotta stay live.” You nodded at that, continuing to seek comfort against the fabric of his pants. It reeked of blood and ash, but you had grown rather fond of it. If you weren’t afraid of losing a finger or even the whole hand by doing it, you would hold his calf to your face with your other hand, trying to get even closer in a rare moment when he wasn’t using it to drive into your body or head at full force.
Alas, it stayed on the ground. Permission was needed for everything, including the mild affection you both sought from and gave to him. When you gave up life outside of this yard, outside of this haze they called the trials, and gave up the outside connection through the sleep room when Murkoff turned you loose. You weren’t a priority for the therapy anymore, but more a fodder for the Prime Asset that lasted longer than anyone would anticipate.
Who you were before this would even be surprised by your own resilience, but that’s what dogs were. They were loyal to a fault. Resilient to a cold and unkind end.
“What? You wanna lil’ treat after fuckin’ my day up now?” He then asked with a sneer. You stopped cuddling, leaning back on your haunches and tipping your chin down as refusal. He watched you for a beat, the baton leaning against the chair by his hip a thought and eliciting a natural flinch when you saw it move from your peripheral.
He snickered at that, “Hate you for some days, sad sack. …But to stay mad at that pretty little mouth? Plain dumb, if y’ask me. If that’s dumb, not usin’ it is even more sideways.” His hands going to his belt to undo it with a quick lick of leather and jingle of metal made you perk up, and you nearly burst at the seam to rock forward again. Hands back on the floor, your head was returned between his knees.
“Got nothin’ better to be doin’, now come on.” His cock fell out and onto your face in a thick slap, already springing forth with arousal as your mouth watered. Watching your face, he goaded, “There’s a good dog. Know you can’t stay away from the glove. Nobody can.”
Still, you looked up at him with a half-open mouth. You were taught not to touch him, lick him unless he gave the word. He waited until you were panting, nearly shaking from anticipation like you might when clambering after your hunt, those dirty reagents that thwarted your Sheriff day in and out.
“G’on.” He spoke it in a single syllable, gloved hand suddenly wrapping around the back of your head. You met him the rest of the way, gladly taking his length into your mouth without so much as a puppy lick and a moan against his shaft. He grit his teeth at the initial contact, “There [he/she is / it goes].” His fingers began extending along the back of your head as you moved on your own. You knew his pace, what he would otherwise demand through corporal punishment until it was Pavlov'd into you at the sound of electricity cracking.
“Teach the others to do half of what you can, and I’d be in hog heaven.” He muttered, exhaling as his chin tipped back down to watch you gag around him. Your eyes looked up for a pause before rolling back, tongue slobbering down to his tip as you pulled back just to lurch forward once more. Your palms cautiously began rested at his knees, but his ungloved hand lead them to rest right on his hips. He knew you worked best that way, a few tricks of his own in his arsenal when it came to handling you.
You pulled off, wretching for air and squeezing your legs together to give your neglected [cock/cunt] a lick of friction, rubbing your chest up against his exposed crotch and making another ghastly noise of pleasure. He lifted his hips slightly to rub against you, the feeling making him groan something foul.
“Get your ass up here,” He suddenly commanded, bracing his lap with both hands and whistling down at you. You shot to stand, straddling him with caution until he grabbed your hips to settle against his own, inserting himself with more curses under his breath. “Tight little fuck, atta [boy/girl/do it]… Good dog.”
You settled as you sniffed against his face, inhaling the rare angle and contact for as much as he tolerated before a hand was on your shoulder. Get to work, his tight expression caught you for a loop before you settled your hands on his shoulders and began to move. Slow at first, but a hard slap to your thigh made you pick up the pace to the point of pain in a matter of flinching. Stretching you faster than you were prepared for, you took the pang in your gut and strain with a taut throat and eyes that sought a pit within scuffed aviators for an answer.
It came in the form of a question: “Who’s a good dog?”
“…Is it me?” You spoke back, hoarse and quickly trailed off into whimpers at the recognition that you could still talk after the hours, long nights of not letting yourself in order to fill this role. Dog, fuck pig, sleeve. Your utterance made him laugh through another shudder, flexing his thighs against your ass as you continued to ride the length of his cock, as though it was a push to keep going.
“Damn right.” A possessive snarl on his face made you squeeze his shoulders as he put a hand around the small of your back, “My dog, good enough to be a man’s property. Locked up somewhere secure...If the damn whitecoats would let a man do so." He blew air through his cheeks as his head lolled to one side, the brim of his hat bumping the bridge of your nose as you continued to milk him with eager hops, pressing up with the balls of your feet and making the chair creak with each ministration.
“There you go now. Show Daddy how it’s done.” Surprisingly tender, you gasped again. “Yes, sir.” You whined, eyes trained to his face and seeing every tic of nerves and curl of his lips, elated at the satisfaction coming through as a ricketing groan from his marred throat and out his mutilated mouth. “Gonna b-be a good dog.”
“My good fuckin’ dog.” He reminded you, the hand trailing up your back and grasping the back of your neck again. He was nearly holding you straight as a board as you kept wriggling against him. He lifted his head and barked at you through sputtering breaths, “No one else dare looksee at the things you do for me, an’ only me! No ugly fuckin’ son of a bitch-“ He sank his nails in through the glove, making you shiver as you struggled to keep your pace – but it was made up to see the fear in your wide eyes as he finished, “Is takin’ this one away from me.”
“What would you do to them, Coyle?” You asked, still warbly in intonation. His jaw slack, he pondered that. “S’pose I’d stick the nightstick where the sun don’t shine, run that motor til there was nothin’ left but sparks-“ A giggle stifled his train of thought, melting into another lusting sigh, “Sparks and innards 'round us, and then I'd send you in to clean the mess up."
Your tongue lolled as it licked over your bottom lip, eyes downcast at where he was lodged inside of you and clenching at the thought.
“Sick mutt, that get you goin’?” He then asked with a jut of his neck forward, and when you only whined at him again, he gave that ominous grin of his. The one that came out in a flex of what remained of his tendons in the bubbly skin from the tainted side of his face.
‧˚꒰🐾୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ “When I lost my voice last night I knew, I don't deserve you.”
♡ The Warden x Fem!Reader x Leland Coyle
☆ A/N, i used to PRAY for times like this, ANOTHER CHUBBY MAN? FOOORRR MEE??
☆ Header made by me, credits to Red Barrels & Supersonico.
☆ 3.7k words.
☆ WARNINGS// CNC, heavy angst, p in v, both reader & warden get their shit rocked by coyle, cucking, threesome, WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, deep throating, VOMIT WARNING, small plot straight porn, daddy kink, pet play, dumbification, breeding kink, squirting, praise kink, manipulation, stereotyping, coyle warning, cum eating, this fic is nasty chat prepare yourself, extreme degradation, aftercare, abuse, guys coyle stomps on the warden’s dick, BDSM.
☆ MINORS DNI.
☆ NSFW UNDER THE CUT.
Over your time at the prison farm your mind was full of things you wish you could tell Dr. Easterman, how good you’d be for him, how you’d do better, how you would do anything but be one of Coyle’s pets. Sometimes you’d stare into the camera’s Murkoff set up around the facility staring deep into the black lens as you sobbed for daddy to come through those elevators and hold you. Brush your hair as Easterman held you in the comfort of his lap, telling you did so good for him.. That you were his baby and he was going to make you feel all better. But every time those doors opened it was only another expop who either disregarded you or one who took interest in your vulgar nudity, it was never Easterman. The guards who stood behind chain linked fences brushed you off like you were just a stupid grunt, the doctors would close the shutters on you from their reinforced windows.
You got thrown into the prison farm after your steady A+’s and perfect performance went to D’s.. Your perfect performance was quickly destroyed after you failed invasion. You had one task, kill the reagent.. But right when you were about to stab them in the face they begged and showed you a picture of their child, a newborn baby they were trying to get back too.. And you couldn’t do it, you let them overpower you and run away. Easterman was ashamed of your performance, his little how high couldn’t even kill another person. You weren’t as perfect or as dedicated as he thought you were, so you were taken from the sleep room one night. You woke up everyone with your banshee-like screams as guards dragged you out of your destroyed room, you can remember Dorris’s saddened expression watching you wail and sob.. Begging for them not to take you, you being taken reminded her painfully of the night guards took Henrietta from her.
You thought the doctors would turn you into another mindless grunt, or maybe use you as another scapegoat for the judge, but no. Easterman took pity on you, yes, you failed him. Disappointed him, brought shame to his doorstep. Another stain to clean up from his perfect reputation.. You were given to Sergeant Leland Coyle for Project Boneyard, a new trial environment you were shoved into.. But you weren’t the main attraction to this utter shitshow, another person was there. Given to Coyle like a welcome to the neighborhood present, a house warming gift, The Warden he was called. A chubby man who had a burlap sack over his head that had metal triangles embedded on the top to symbolize dog ears, a metal mouth piece that had sharp “teeth” and a tongue. He was Coyle’s little fuck pig, and you were just the whore that came with him. You both weren’t as sane as you used to be, endless abuse, experimentation, trials.. It changed you, The Warden was sure he was untouchable because he did sexual favors to Coyle in return for protection, you were sometimes forced to watch the man suck Coyle off till Coyle got bored of him. Coyle would never let The Warden come, no matter how hard he begged Coyle brushed him off–So out of horny desperation, began to use you. Constantly. The shame he felt from being used by Coyle daily and being in this god awful place, he took it out on you. Unlike others he was barely restrained, he had free range and motion. And of course he took advantage of it, acting like a true corrupted prison warden and using you till you passed out.
“U–Uh! uh, uh..!”
Stupid incomprehensible noises came from your spit covered lips, the glossy muscle all swollen from crying for hours on end, from sucking the warden’s heavy dick, from biting your lips to try not to whimper so hard when his fat cock violently plowed into your puffy cunt. The warden had you bent over his desk, fat tits pressed against the polished wood as he pulverized your poor pussy into a sticky mess. “Y,Yeah? Yeah? D–Daddy makes you feel reeaaall good don’t he?” Jesus Christ, he couldn’t even hold a sentence from whimpers and moans cutting into each syllable. His bruised large hands disgustingly groped the fat of your ass, fingers squeezing that beautiful flesh and making it squeeze between the free space of his fingers. Hands aggressively palming your ass as the fat of his hips rammed into you, his dick was so sore–His hips ached, his chubby thighs violently trembled as he tried to keep himself up so he wouldn’t collapse on you. “G,Good girl.. So good fer’ daddy..” God you were a mess, lips permanently stuck in an “o” shaped, your bruised legs violently quivering and twitching, your entire lover half was jello. Pure jello, all you could feel was that violent crave of his dick drilling so hard in your canal you were sure he was bruising the opening to that pretty little cervix.
The embarrassingly loud squelches and squishes that came from between your legs were painfully loud from how much you’ve come, he’s made you squirt almost every 4 minutes. You couldn’t help it anymore, he reduced you into a fire hydrant. Uncontrollable spurts of slick coming from your aching hole, warm cum drooling down your thighs to mix in the puddle on the floor. You weren’t even holding on to anything anymore, you couldn’t. Your brain was all mushy and stupid, you were completely cockdrunk! You just laid there and took every thick inch like this was the therapy Dr. Easterman wanted you to learn, and you were learning alright. What spots that got that pretty messy pussy snapping down on him like a venus flytrap, sucking him of all his sweet nectar. And right in front of you, sitting in a leather chair.. Manspreaded like a whore was Sergeant Leland Coyle, huffing like a bull as he sucked the tobacco out of his cigarette. Visors resting against the bridge of his crooked nose as those cold blue eyes were glued onto you, watching you drool all over yourself to the point where it was down to your naval.
Coyle’s eyes were trained onto yours, watching as those pretty little orbs rolled so far back he could count the veins on your whites. See those fat tears glob down those red little cheeks, his thighs spread on instinct. His angry bulge twitching from his little drill sergeant get up, dick throbbing to be inserted between those pretty lips and sucked till he was shooting blanks. The warden’s mouth felt good, but if the one thing he hated was the warden couldn’t suck dick to save his life.. You? By god you sucked him off so good he almost wanted to ask the doctors to keep you alive so he could fuck your throat anytime he needed.
“A–Am I doin’ good daddy? Am, ah–fuck! Am I makin’ baby happy..?” The warden pleaded his deep voice cracking from when your sweet walls sucked around him just right, he was begging Coyle for positive validation. Any Validation, good or bad, was good in his eyes. It meant his life was spared a little longer. Coyle let out a grunt of displeasure almost pissed from his daydream of forcing you to gag on his cock till you threw up was disrupted, his eyes finally broke from yours just for a moment to the warden. Seeing that stupid fuck looking like he was about to pass out from how pussydrunk he is, “She don’t look happy to me, how the hell are you gonna keep her from cheatin’ on you with the milkman while you are away servin’ the country?” Coyle snapped, if you had a brain cell to cling onto you’d know that was something that happened to him with his first wife.. The warden snarled in your ear as his head pressed against your hair, a loud smack filling the air as he slapped your ass so hard you could feel his hand print welting on the bruised flesh. Nasty bruises contrasting from purple to red painted your skin from how hard he beat your ass.
“N,No wife of mine–haah–Is gonna cheat on me–!” He growled angrily like you were his actual wife, his hips found a new vigor as his slams turned into violent pounding that had you sobbing so loudly you were sure any grunt could hear you for miles. You violently squirmed against the desk when his bulbous tip rammed into your g-spot, practically bruising it as he focused all his attention on that one little spot. “O,Oh fuck..” He whimpered pathetically as you squirted all over him again, clear liquid coming out in flowing gushes as that sweet little canal suffocated his throbbing cock. He didn’t last another second before shoving all his body weight into you, a downright stupid little yelp coming from you when you felt his hot load fill your overstuffed pussy. Some of it leaking from your stretched hole as that stupid fucks hips kept jerking into you, your pussy had his poor brain melted. If he could stay like this forever, he would.. Maybe Dr. Easterman would be so merciful and fulfill that wish.
“You stupid heifer.” Coyle said as he grabbed the back of the warden’s neck and yanked him back like a misbehaving puppy, you didn’t even know he got up.. Well, neither of you did because the warden let out a loud sob as he was ripped from the comforting warmth of your womb. “AH! DADDY–PLEASE!” You heard the warden sob in pain as Coyle bitch slapped him with his cattle prod, it wasn’t turned on so he could actually sit down and enjoy the show. “You good for nuthin’ tub of lard, how you goin’ keep her happy? Huh? By puttin’ a baby in her–”
“I–I could! I could daddy–Wan’ me to put a baby in her? I’ll give her all my puppies–AH!” You could barely hear the thud the warden hit the cold ground as Coyle kicked him. “You dumb fuckin’ mutt, sit there like a good boy as I show you AGAIN how to keep her happy. How fuckin’ hard is it?” Coyle snapped as he put his cattle prod onto the desk beside your limp form, leather gloves violently grasping at your waist as he turned you over to face him. Your head hit the back of the desk with a sickening thump as he manhandled you, a scoff coming from him as his hand went to the back of your skull, fingers twisting in your scalp as he forced you to kiss him. His leathery tongue going down your throat as those exposed teeth of his bite down on the fat of your lip, his other hand threw your boneless leg onto his hip as the sounds of your sloppy make out filled your brain. “Mmmphmm, my good lil’ girl.. Look at chu, so pretty.” Coyle cooed as he slowly pulled back, hot breath that reeked of alcohol and tobacco intoxicating your senses. He watched as thick strands of drool kept you two connected as his clothed erection humped your soaking wet folds. Head craning down as a needy groan escaped him, watching those puffy engorged pussy hug his clothed cock. His hips kept a slow yet steady pace as he panted violently, a bit of spittle coming from the corner of his burnt lip. The warden sat below by Coyle’s side, eyes locked onto your face as he watched those eyelids flutter shut. “O,ooohh fuffcckk..” You squeaked out as Coyle let out a chuckle.
“Yeah babygirl? Yeah? Love this dick don’t cha?” He cooed mockingly as he tilted his head in faux care, “Use your words sweetness, don’t be a bitch.” The contrast between him calling you sweet pet names to straight degradation made your stupid little brain short circuit. “Y,yes daddy–Fuck.. I,I love it–” You mewled out as your shaky soft hands somehow found the urge to paw his torso, normally he’d slap those wandering hands away but he leaned into your greedy little touches, “Need it baby girl? Need this dick makin’ your pretty little head all stupid?”
God the little “yeeesss!” that came out from you, you used to throw stuns, bricks, bottles, insults, anything at this disgusting vile excuse of a man’s sperm. Now you were begging for his cock like it would save your soul from being damned, “Yeah I knew you needed this.” He groaned as he looked down at the warden who was sitting on his knees, erect cock throbbing pre-cum as he was lazer focused on that sloppy pussy. “Make yerself fuckin’ useful.” He barked as the warden’s shaky hands went to Coyle’s custom made buckle, undoing it sloppily as he pulled his dick out. Coyle groaned as his head tipped back, hips bucking into the warden’s sweaty palm. The warden’s hand moved quickly against Coyle, pumping his hard shaft as best as he could as the other went up to fondle his balls that were just begging to be buried in you already so he could blow his load into you. “Ffffuuccck..” His head tipped further as his hand groped your beaten ass, little sobs and painful winces coming from you as rough fingers dug into the bruises.
Coyle’s hips jerked hard, so hard his tip slid through you with embarrassing ease causing him to choke. Smoke came from his nostrils as he spit out his half dead cigarette, his hand leaving your head to have both of them jump at your hips. An obscenely loud groan escaping his raspy throat as he wasted zero time sinking allll the way to the hilt. His hands cupped you as those mean fingers buried themselves into your fat, loud screams came from you as he plowed you open. The warden still fondling Coyle as his other hand jerked himself off, you sounded like you were in PAIN as Coyle pounded you so hard you felt like you were about to vomit.
“D-DADDY! DADDY FUCK!” Came from that sweet mouth Coyle’s shoulders shuddered as he huffed through his nose at your reaction, lifting your ass higher so he could nail you. “Y–Yeah? YEAH? This much better than what that dumb mutt was puttin’ you through?” He yelled in pride and lust as his head swung down to watch you, “Y–YES! YES, YES, YEESS! OOOHHH MY FUCKING GOOODDD!” You were screeching like the berserker was shoving his hand in your ass, your screams piercing Coyle and the warden’s ears. You were gagging on your own gasps and cries, gagging from the sheer force of being fucked this hard. Your hands were clutching at Coyle’s uniform as he let you subconsciously rip it off of him, “See boy? THIS, is how you take care of a woman.” He yowled like a cat, making it very known what was happening in the warden’s office. The warden whimpered as his cock throbbed painfully in his hand, he was so dizzy from how hard he is–So nauseous from needing to come so badly, needing you so badly. His hand stopped stroking his dick to cup his tip, whimpering and whining for your attention as Coyle completely disregarded his existence. Coyle’s grunts grew frantic, sounding more primitive as his hips slapped hard against you. Chasing his orgasm he needed to badly, hands using you like a fuck doll as he manhandled you to bounce on his sweaty cock.
“FUCK!” He seethed out, drool dripping down his completely charred skin as he exploded in you. Burning hot cum filling you up in deliciously violent spurts, his hands clutching your ass keeping you still on him so nothing would leak out. You swore you felt a kiss on the top of your head, and another on your sweaty forehead. “Good girl, such a good girl.. Daddy loves you.” He purred lovingly basking in that graceful high he’s been waiting for all day, his lips became more bold as he pressed them all over your face. Cooing about how much he loves you, how he’d let nothing touch a pretty hair on your head, “Yer’ safe here, right here with daddy.” He grumbled as his head rested against yours, you basked in the radiance of his love. For once it wasn’t perversion or abuse, just straight love and admiration.
You let him snuggle you, you snuggled him back the best you could. Whenever you did good for Coyle he was always good to you after, his nose pressed deep into your hair. Smelling your post-sex scent as he nuzzled his face into it, his hands now softer as they rubbed your aching back. “My good girl.” He hummed as he placed one last smooch to your forehead before pulling away. As fast as he was soft and sweet was as fast as he became that dictating asshole, he snarled at the warden who was still jerking off. Your eyes widened in fear and surprise as Coyle stomped on the warden’s cock, a loud scream of sheer pain coming from the man as he fell down into the puddle of cum & slick. Shaking and dry heaving as Coyle rolled his eyes at the man, “You pathetic waste of yer’ daddy’s spunk! You gonna let another man cum in her? Huh? Clean her up you fat fuck.”
Despite being in brutal pain that had his vision blackening he shakily tried to get up but kept falling from how weak he was, “Oh for fucks sake. Do I gotta do everything around here?” Coyle sighed in irritation and disappointment as he grabbed a fistful of the warden’s sack head as he dragged him up and shoved him face first in your pussy. The warden groaned against your hot flesh, a shiver being sent down your spine as you felt the vibration against your puffy neglected clit. The sharp metal of his faux teeth bumping against your mound as his tongue slithered into your spent hole, meaty hands grabbing your thighs and cupping them, pushing them further apart as his head made a home between your legs.
“uuuhhh, hhnnggghgg…” That’s all you could produce. All you could make were noises a slut would make, the warden was so eager and lapped up every drop of Coyle’s warm cum. Wasting zero time to gulp it down as the slick muscle dug further into you, You felt Coyle's hand cup your chin and tilt your head backwards giving you a face full of his dick. Your lips automatically opened as that pretty pink tongue came out to lick at his drooling tip, you heard him shamelessly groan as his hips adjusted so his tip could follow that sweet tongue. The warden’s own tongue dug deeper, hitting spots in you that had your weak legs trembling and your ankles twisting. The bottom of the sack was soaked from drool, the once cold metal of his canine mouthpiece now hot and lubed up. “D–Daddy..” You whimpered pitifully at your poor clit not getting any attention, both of their heads jerked to look at you instinctively. “M,My poor lil’ fawn.” The warden cooed as his hand abandoned squeezing and assaulting you to rub circles on your clit, “S,Sorry babygirl..” He whimpered out as he kept sucking Coyle’s cum out of your cunt, shuddering as he felt his own salty & thick load start to come out. Before you could show him your appreciation Coyle’s hand slammed down on your throat, hips shoving forward to shove his cock down to your larynx. You gagged hard around his cock feeling bile rise up as drool popped from your full mouth, Coyle’s loud groans and snarls of pleasure filled your ears like a siren song as his hips thrusted hard into your mouth. A mix of unkept pubic hair & scarred flesh slapping against your face and filling your nostrils. “Take this fuckin’ cock you slut..” Coyle panted out as his hand tightened around your throat, strangling you so your throat got smaller around his cock. God you were on the verge of passing out and puking, the pleasure was too much–Fuck, your head was so dizzy.. Who were you? Where were you? UUUggh, you never wanted this to end. ♡
The warden groaned with joy when you squirted in his mouth, greedily drinking every drop as his sucking got louder from how soaked you were. Any cum or squirt that was running down your thighs? He was lapping up happily, your nose was working overtime trying to get oxygen to your lungs. Your vision was turning black as you felt Coyle’s cum fill your throat like you were a stuffed pastry. He let out a shaky groan as lights flashed behind his closed eyes as he thrusted hard and deep into that tight throat, forcing you to swallow every drop.. Which you had no choice but to do. His hand relaxed against your now bruised throat, watching as your skin flushed red.. You had his hand prints allll over that slutty neck, he quickly pulled out to creampie your stupid face before you passed out.
You were passed out still in the warden’s arms as he lovingly snuggled you in Coyle’s leather chair, bagged head resting against your shoulder. Big hands now gentle and loving as he soothed the ache in your spine, his job was to protect you while Coyle was gone.. He wished so dearly that Coyle would one day rip the sack from his head and the bit in his mouth and give him the honor of kissing you.
Click! "There you go..." Click, Click! "Finally puttin' that damn mouth of yers to good use.." Click! "& it's a damn good use too.. mmhehe.."
The sounds of wet swirling & pops flood inside the showers as you sucked him off on your knees. You were looking up at him with the sweetest eyes his puppy could ever give him. Coyle was running his bare hand through the strands of your hair, whispering the tiniest of praises towards you.
"Good job, puppy.." His voice rumbles softly. "I'm almost there..."
As Coyle began to chase his release, he began to snap his hips deeper into your throat, using it as if it were a fleshlight. You did try your best not to gag on his cock, but it couldn't be helped. You grabbed onto his hips for support as he fucked your throat. Hot tears are running down your cheek as you try to keep up the pace with Coyle.
Click! "Atta' puppy. Keep takin' this goddamn cock like you mean it!" Click, Click! "You'll take every last goddamn drop!"
You love nothing more than the way he treats you. Taking whatever he wants from you. You want to make him happy despite all of your discomfort. You will listen to what he says & you will take every last drop from his cock.
"FUCK!" Coyle spills inside your mouth as you gulp nonstop until there is nothing left. "I'd better not see a single drop in ya goddamn mouth when I check."
so glad i found ur blog u r really matching my ryland grace freak,,, might i even be so bold to suggest a bit of dumbification here??
so glad you found this account, too, because i love hanging out with fellow perverts.
big YES on dumbification. might i also suggest some mirror sex as a nice pairing?
you'd like to think you're pretty smart. not genius level, but, you know, smart enough. you're mostly up-to-date on current issues, you're media literate, you can form and articulate well thought-out opinions about all manner of things, and you can carry on a pretty decent conversation about science with your biologist boyfriend.
not right now, though. right now, you're pretty sure you can't even say, nevermind construct, a coherent sentence, because said boyfriend has fucked you stupid.
you're on the edge of the bed, knees digging in, face down, ass up in the air. your cheek is pressed against the mattress and your fingers are curled into the sheets and you honestly might be drooling, but you can't say for sure, because everything but the feeling of ryland's cock hitting home is hazy.
you're malleable like this. when ryland leans over you and gently guides your head to turn it, you simply let him. he knows best, because right now, he's probably the only one of you two who knows anything at all.
there's a floor-length mirror on your bedroom wall - a holdover from the last tenant. at first, ryland was a little freaked out by having a mirror so close to the bed, but he very quickly came around to it when he realized it allowed him to watch you fall apart on his cock from more than one angle.
"see that? how pretty you are right now?" he asks, pushing down on the small of your back a bit to make you arch it a little more so he can hit even deeper inside you. you are pretty like this, flushed and open-mouthed and empty-eyed. "so beautiful. it suits you so well. it's okay, i can do the thinking for you. just let me take care of you."
Ryland with someone who admitted she hasn't came before
She's tried, just never gotten there by herself
I saw this right when you sent it and it did something to me so today's story is just our sweet, understanding science boy getting you off for the first time. thank you!!
Like, Ever ~ ryland grace x reader
2.6k words, smut, oral
------------
You knew you’d have to have the conversation with him eventually. Knew that, as sweet as he had always been, he’d want more with you when he grew bored of heated makeouts that didn’t lead anywhere. So you did your best overthinking and invited him round for an afternoon of baking, hoping that having something to do with your hands would make it easier to talk.
Ryland was always eager to spend time with you, so of course he said yes and immediately headed your way. The muffins were already in the oven by the time the conversation lulled, meaning you missed your chance to have something to focus on, having been so content to listen to his rambling about his week.
And by the time the muffins were cooling and the kitchen was clean, Ryland had you on his lap on the couch, his tongue in your mouth and his hands steady on your thighs. His lips move down to your throat and you freeze, remembering suddenly what you invited him over for in the first place. He feels how you tense, pulls away to look at you sweetly, “sorry, too much?”
You shake your head quickly, incredibly aware of how close you are to him. Your hands drop to fidget between your bodies, not quite sure where they should be. “Hey, did I do something wrong?” He whispers it so softly, worry twisting up his face. “No, no, Ryland, it’s not you,” you’re quick to reassure him, even when your own anxiety is eating away at you.
You take a deep breath, watching as he nods and leans back a little, like he’s trying to give you space to think. When you don’t say anything, he links his fingers with yours, thumbs rubbing over your knuckles soothingly. “You don’t have to tell me,” he starts, smiling when you make eye contact, “but I’m not gonna judge you, whatever it is.”
That gives you a little courage, the gentle man holding you so delicately on his lap suddenly seeming like prince charming here to save you from the dragon. “I really like you,” you whisper, biting your lip. He smiles warmly, “I really like you too.” You nod at that, looking down at your hands for this next part. “I - um, I’d really like to have more of a… physical.. relationship with you,” you curse how hot your cheeks feel.
“And you’ve been so great, really, you’re so respectful and patient and I don’t want you to be disappointed,” and you’re rambling now, beating around the bush. “I don’t want to - uh, fake anything with you, which is why I’ve been moving so slow.”
He’s listening intently, trying to figure out where this is going, trying to spare you from having to say whatever has you so nervous. He’d never figure it out on his own, though, and that’s why you’re here. One of his hands strokes up your arm, grounding touch helping you stay in the moment.
“Ryland, I’ve never… finished… before. I’ve always just pretended because it’s easier but I don’t want to do that with you,” your voice is quiet, head ducking just enough to hide from him. You hear him sigh, feel his hand slide all the way up to your chin. He lifts your head, searching your eyes for any emotion you’ll let him see. “Sweetheart, that’s not your fault,” there he is, the sweetest man in San Fran, “sounds like your past partners were dicks.”
You let out a tight laugh, “I’m not just talking about with partners, Ry, I mean, like, ever.”
That makes his head tilt, his brows furrowing in thought. “Not even… by yourself?” His cheeks have the lightest dusting of pink on them, like asking about your masturbation habits was finally the thing that got to him. You shake your head, breaking free from his light hold against your jaw. He lets out a breath, “but you want to?” A small nod, your hand squeezing his for comfort.
Ryland leans back fully, resting against the couch while he thinks. “Will you tell me what you’ve tried?” He asks softly, running his hand up your leg again. You tell him - your fingers, toys, showerheads, “eventually I just gave up, figured it wasn’t in the cards for me.”
He tsks at that, giving you a small smile. “Past guys did all the right things, I think, it just never worked,” you add with a huff, smiling when he rolls his eyes. “Baby, they clearly did not do the right things,” he pulls you in for a kiss, letting it linger until you relax into him. “Will you let me try?” He whispers against your lips, grinning when you nod.
Big hands hold your face, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth. He takes his time, kissing you slowly, letting tension build with every bite to your lip and caress of your skin. He works down your neck again, sucking on your most sensitive spots until he has you whining above him. “Bedroom?” He groans out, smiling when you nod and stand, taking his hand and leading him away.
He pulls you against him, hands holding your hips firmly so he has your attention. “Listen to me, sweetheart,” he starts, warm eyes boring into yours, “there’s no pressure here, no time limit. We’re not in a rush, we don’t have any goals beside making you feel good, yeah?” You nod, your hands coming up to wrap around his neck, “what about you, though?”
He smiles again, “don’t worry about me, you’re the priority here.” His words make you warm all over, your tongue poking out to lick your lips before you nod again. His eyes drop to your mouth, he wastes no time diving back in to taste you. “Just want to make you feel good,” he whispers, biting your lip with a sigh. It draws out a small moan from you, your head tipping back to allow him more access to your neck. “And don’t feel bad if you can’t, just don’t want you faking anything with me,” he looks at you with hooded eyes, waiting until you nod before he returns to his kisses.
Slow hands move under your shirt, gentle fingers skirting along your skin as he lifts the fabric over your head. He separates from your skin just long enough to take you in, then his mouth goes straight to the hollow of your throat. He works his way down at a glacial pace, hands staying in completely appropriate areas, lips barely ghosting the supple curve of your breasts.
You can’t help how your nails scrape his scalp, how your fingers tighten when you feel his hot breath on your skin. Finally, he reaches for your bra, unhooking it and lowering the straps, his gaze mapping out each inch of new skin he sees until the bra is on the floor and the heat in your stomach is pooling. Everything in you is screaming to speed this up, to get to the good part, but you know he’d just stop you, insist on the build up being the good part.
As if he can sense your patience running out, he licks his way down until he can suck a nipple into his mouth. You moan immediately, hand tugging his hair and earning you a groan against your skin. He spends a long time on each breast, fingers playing with the side his mouth isn’t on, until he can’t help but reach for your pants.
Your leggings fall away with a little bit of a struggle, both of you laughing when you fall back to sit on the bed, fabric bunching around your knees. He pulls each leg out, placing kisses from your ankle to your knee, brushing gentle touches to your thighs before he stands. “Get comfy,” he smiles, nudging you back on the bed until you rest against the pillows.
His shirt hits the floor, nervous hand coming up to rub the back of his head. “Do you have any toys still?”
The question throws you off, but you nod, laughing when he sits next to you and gives you a serious look. “Can I see them? For research?” He wiggles his eyebrows, biting his lip when your hands come up to cover your chest. You nod toward your nightstand, “there’s a blue bag in the bottom of the drawer, it’s in there.”
He smirks, digging through the drawer and pulling out the small bag. A bullet vibe slides out into his palm, he holds it like it’s something precious and not a tool meant to get you off. A wink in your direction and he’s setting it down by your knee, abandoning it in favor of climbing over you and kissing you deeply. Suddenly he’s all heated touches and longing glances, checking in with prolonged eye contact as he slides down your body slowly.
One hand works its way to your clothed core, the other pushing your leg out to make room for him. “Tell me if anything feels wrong,” he breathes, finally looking down when he sees you nod. The lightest fingers work under your panties, pulling them off like he’s unwrapping a gift. Lips press to the inside of your thighs, across your hips, in the creases around where you were starting to feel desperate for him.
Blue eyes meet yours again, his hand finding yours and placing it in his hair, “don’t be afraid to guide me, you know your body.” His breath is warm against you, fingers squeezing around your thighs as he hikes them over his shoulders. He’s flat on the bed, his shoulders and back soft but firm, a wall of man keeping you right where he wants you.
He presses forward just a little, lets his nose make contact, breathes in your scent with a broken groan from low in his throat. Finally, he sticks out his tongue and licks a long, slow stripe. His eyes flutter closed at the taste, breath coming out faster.
It feels good, your other hand flying to join the first in his hair, petting through the strands with a small moan. Like with every other part of this process, Ryland moves like molasses. He alternates between kitten licks and light sucks, paying attention to what gets a reaction and what doesn’t. When you shift his head a little, landing him right over your clit, he can’t help the smile that breaks across his face. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he mumbles, “show me what you like.” The vibrations from his voice are nice, you briefly register how much you want him to keep talking.
“You taste so good, baby,” like he heard your wish, he keeps going, “look so good like this.” With you in control of his head, he loosens a hand from around your leg and reaches up, cupping your breast and thumbing your nipple, tweaking the bud until he feels your breath hitch. Something must flash across your face, because he raises his brows and asks, “what else do you need?”
You swipe his hair out of his eyes, take a second to find your voice, take another second to find your courage. “Feels good when you make noise,” you whisper, flushing when he grins up at you. “You got it, sweets,” he murmurs, diving back in and groaning around your clit like his life depends on it. His licks and sucks are stronger, firmer and hot and you feel something in your lower stomach that you know is a good thing.
His pace doesn’t slow down, fingers working your nipple, lips locked on your clit, sounds falling from his mouth that make your head spin. His hand still holding your thigh drops down, tracing long fingers through your slick, teasing around your entrance until you open your eyes and look at him. He winks again and presses in, drawing a moan from you as your head falls deeper into the pillows.
Two fingers stretch you open, your hips rolling when he gives a testing thrust. He hums, nodding as encouragement to keep it up, to get what you need. You feel him stroking your walls, feel him searching for the treasure he knows is there. It’s obvious when he finds it, your body jolting and your eyes rolling back. He hums again, curling his fingers and keeping them against that spot, just rubbing the nerves until you’re shaking around him.
Your cries are building, the slow burn igniting in your core a new sensation. You keep grinding against his face, one hand flying to his arm where he still has your breast in hand. “Mhm, mm, mhm,” he can feel how you’re getting close, knows you probably need reassurance if you’ve never felt this before. A rough thrust of his fingers has you gasping into the air, short, breathy cries of “please, please, Ry,” falling from your lips, as if you'd ever have to beg him for anything.
He keeps his eyes on your face, trying to be ready to catch you if you fall. He can’t help the pride filling him at seeing you like this, being the reason you feel so good. Your hand tightens impossibly in his hair, pulling a loud groan from him that shakes through you. You can feel it, you know you’re close, know something different is about to happen.
Your legs shake, body tensing as your moans crescendo. Everything feels too warm, an overwhelming heat rolls through you, a shiver working its way up your spine. “Ry - I’m, I’m gonna-,” you don’t get the chance to finish that sentence, your orgasm slamming into you like a tidal wave.
You convulse around him, his hand shooting to hold your leg open, giving himself enough room to keep up his movements. He works you through it, groaning at how your walls clench down on his fingers, your slick squelching out around his hurried thrusts. When you collapse down on the mattress, chest heaving and hands trembling, you feel him smile against your wet flesh.
He’s still talking, whispering something, you catch a quick, “good girl,” said with such softness it gives you butterflies. Slowly, his fingers slide out, replaced by his tongue lapping up the mess. He whines at the taste, groans when you pull him away by his hair. “Wait, ‘m not done,” he whispers, slowing down but not stopping.
Finally, he lets you shove him off, grinning when he lifts up and sees how wrecked you look. You try to hide the tear that slides down your temple but he sees it, his face shifting while he moves up to lay next to you. “Sorry,” you apologize before he can say anything, “just didn’t think I’d ever get to do that,” you laugh lightly.
He gives you a soft look, his dry hand coming up to hold your cheek, turning your face to him. He kisses you soundly, lets you taste yourself on his tongue, feels how you melt into it like it’s the only thing you need. You bite his lip, grin when he lets out the smallest moan. “You’re really fucking hot, you know that, right?” He smiles, chuckling when you cover your face with a huff.
He sits up for just a second, coming back to the pillow with the little vibrator in his hand. “We didn’t even need this guy,” he winks, settling his weight on top of you, relaxing when your hands scratch down his back. “Forgot it was even there,” you grin, “you’re just that good, Ry.”
He chokes out a laugh, face going red. “I’m pretty good with my mouth too,” you giggle, “in case you wanted me to return the favor.”
Big eyes meet yours, his mouth open slightly. “We’ve got all night,” he whispers, collecting himself, “let me get a few more from you first?"
----------------
just a reminder to everyone out there, sex and pleasure is about feeling good and there's no pressure to make anything happen than you can't!! with a partner or going solo, there's no expectations on you to perform :)
summary: Ryland discovers that you have a thing for being put in a headlock years after first doing it
------------------
“This what you needed, baby?” His voice is rough, strained with the effort of keeping you both upright. He fucks into you slowly, letting you feel every thick inch of his length, his tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. He has your back to him, one strong arm wrapped around your neck, squeezing your face in his bicep. You scratch at his arm, eyes rolling back when he pistons his hips faster, hitting you deeper with every stroke.
This wasn’t the kind of thing he would normally have done, but an incident back on the Hail Mary flashed through his memory when he was teaching his Eridian students about the plants you’ve been able to grow. He held a small tomato plant up and zoned out for a second, coming back to himself just in time for the students to start asking questions.
The memory was stuck in his brain, though. Some months into your trip to Erid, Ryland and Rocky had followed you into the small area designated for your space garden. The conversation was light, you and Ryland teaching Rocky about the different plants and their purposes, what you were hoping to learn by having them in space.
“This flower will eventually grow into something we can eat,” you point to a bloom that you’ve been carefully cultivating for weeks. “You remember how we talked about pollen?” You look to Rocky expectantly. “Yes, stamen make pollen, pistil use it,” Rocky chirps. You nod, biting your pen while you pull a small sample of yellow dust off the flower.
“Flower like humans, statement.” That makes you pause, head turning to him with a frown. “What do you mean, Rock?”
“Human male make pollen, human female use it.” A choked noise sounds from next to you, Ryland throws a hand over his face with a groan. “Rocky, please don’t talk about human reproduction again,” he murmurs, grinning when you let out a loud laugh.
“Come on, Grace, we can give him another lecture about sex,” you set your notepad down and give him your full attention, “surely you still have so much to say!” His brows shoot to his hairline, eyes flashing, hands landing on his hips while he decides his approach. “Go ahead, then,” he starts, leveling you with a glare, “what do you want to know?” He doesn’t ask Rocky, he asks you.
Rocky speaks up anyway, “Grace use stamen on mates, question?” His tone is different, he sounds grossed out. You laugh, puffing up your cheeks when Ryland drops his head and sighs. His face is red, hands still on his hips. “This is your fault,” he points at you, smiling when you turn your back to laugh harder.
“You know what,” he laughs, stepping toward, “I’ve had enough of your teasing.” His arm wraps around your neck, bicep flexing as he puts you in a headlock. His free hand comes up to rub against the top of your head, “you’ve got a big mouth,” he chuckles against you.
You freeze, feeling his chest against your back, his arm on your throat, his breath in your hair. Fuck, do you have a thing for being put in a headlock? You hadn’t considered it before, but when it’s Ryland’s bicep, Ryland’s voice in your ear? Yeah, that’s a new one for you.
Rocky perks up, lifting his carapace and tilting, “her heart rate is high, is this mating ritual, question?” Your face heats up, hands pulling Ryland’s arm off of you quickly. He lets go easily, worry flashing across his face.
You had excused yourself immediately, heading to the other room and busying yourself for a bit. Half an hour passed before Ryland came slinking in, tail between his legs, apologizing for manhandling you. You both let it go after that, agreeing to let bygones be bygones and all that.
Until you made it to Erid. By the time the biodome was ready for you to move in, you and Ryland were well established in your relationship. He had finally cornered you in the kitchen the morning after his plant class, sliding up behind you while you sip your coffee in front of the window, overlooking the foggy beach made just for you. His arm slipped around your shoulders, bicep tightening around your throat just enough for him to feel you tense a little.
“I was teaching about your plants yesterday,” he murmured into your hair, “remembered something like this,” he squeezed his arm just a little, reveling in how your breath hitched. “I realized that it might not have made you uncomfortable like I first thought,” he leaned forward enough to take in your profile, “I think you liked it.”
You floundered a little, debating on if it was worth it to deny it, and finally just nodded your head, movement limited by the thick arm cradling your head.
You let him pull you to bed, let him take you apart with his fingers and tongue, let him build up to what he’d clearly been thinking about.
And here you are now, kneeling on the sheets, Ryland behind you. His arm is tight around your throat, breath heavy on your hair. He’s practically holding you up, his other arm wrapped around your hips like a seatbelt. You can’t control the sounds he punches out of you with each snap of his hips, can’t do anything but hold on while he takes what he wants.
“Just needed a bicep to choke you a little, huh?” God, the way he teases you never fails to make your knees weak. “Taking it so good, baby,” he groans right in your ear, “fuckin’ love this, holy shit.”
His hand flexes beside your head, making his arm squeeze just a little bit more. The moan it rips from your throat is loud, your eyes rolling back. He feels you clench down around him, feels how close you’re getting to losing it. “Gonna come for me, sweets? Gonna let me feel you come on my cock?” His voice is deep, broken whines slipping through his rough exterior.
He was usually so soft and sweet with you, this rugged version of him was new and exciting. Maybe there was a dom hiding somewhere under all the nerd this whole time? He keeps up his brutal pace, hips slamming into yours hard enough to make you jerk with each thrust. He’s hitting that spot inside you so perfectly, so roughly, it makes you see stars.
“Take your time, baby,” he grunts softly, “get there when you’re ready.” There’s that care you were so used to. Never rushing you, never pressuring you for anything. “I can do this all night,” his grin is obvious in his tone, you just know he’s getting off on the power. “You can rub your clit,” he whispers, nipping at your ear, “or do you need me to do that, too?”
He breathes a laugh when you moan, your hips rolling back into him, your head tipping back against his shoulder. He’s supporting most of your weight, holding you tightly to him, controlling both of your movements. “Y’feel so good, so warm and tight,” he leans back just a little, pulling you with him, changing the angle just enough.
He manages to sink in deeper, feeling how your slick leaks down his shaft and sticks to his thighs. “Dripping all over me,” he grins, “sexy as hell how much you love this.” And he feels you clench, feels you shake, and groans when he feels you tip right over the edge. Your breath hitches, hands locking on his arms as you shiver through your high. “Yes, baby,” he whispers, grunting with the effort of keeping up his rhythm when you’re squeezing him so tightly.
A few more thrusts and he slams home, holding you against him firmly while he whimpers into the side of your head. He pants for a moment, admiring how pliant and relaxed you feel under him. You grab his arm and pull, sighing when he finally eases up and lets you fall forward. You burrow into the pillows, groaning when he lays his whole body on top of yours. He kisses down your spine, across your shoulders, pushes your hair away from your neck so he can check for any marks.
“You did so good, sweetheart,” he whispers into your skin, “s’perfect for me.” You smile, turning your head enough to see him. “You’re really strong, Ry.” He smiles, shifting up and over so his head is next to yours, placing a sweet kiss to your lips. “I haven’t been using it to my advantage, I think,” he laughs, stroking your cheek gently. “I could’ve been throwing you around this whole time.”
You laugh along with him, nodding with a hum, melting under his soft touch.
hmmmmmmm okay i know im new here but hear me out on switch ryland who fakes you out, letting you think you're taking control. whining, whimpering, pleading up at you with wet puppy dog eyes. gets you on top of him, begs to put his hands on your thighs, and flips you mid kiss. he'd put you in prone doggy, his thighs pressing down on your own, completely restricting your movement.
you wouldn't have time to gasp before he's entered you, steadily pushing until he's buried to the hilt. he'd take one hand to pin your wrists together and the other to wrap around your hip as he'd start fucking you.
all while laughing so condescendingly, "Awwww, silly little pup thought they could be in charge?" his words punctuated with direct hits to your g-spot. you couldn't even think, just whining as drool started to fall and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. the sudden shift in dynamics with the way he took control would just be a mind wipe. he would take full advantage of this.
releasing your wrists to grab your throat and pull you into him while he fucks you like an animal. growling into your ear "that's it, there's my perfect pet. look at you falling apart beneath me, exactly where you belong." you wouldn't dare move your hands but they would white knuckle the sheets with the temptation. he would snap his hips at a slightly different angle, with deeper thrusts.
"see? just taking my cock like you were made for it. waiting on my permission to even move." he punctuated that with a squeeze to your throat that left you gasping. "sweet little pups shouldn't have to think about anything other than their owners, right mutt?" and he would feel you just throb. and would laugh at you, using it as confirmation. continuing to humiliate you in the best way possible until you're a sniveling, overstimulated mess under him.
this is already way too long and not finished but i had to share and i feel that you would appreciate this particular brain worm thats been rattling around in my head this morning :)
OH MY GOD. OH.
THIS IS SO... ohh my.... im so horny i need ry to flip the script till im #cryin'
i saw another post similar but i really want to see it from your style,
asking grace "do i make you horny baby?" but its out of nowhere in public when he cannot make a move and when you feign innocence later he lets you know what it did 😝
thank you for the request! I changed the line up but kept the vibe because while I haven't seen the post you're referencing, I don't want to step on any of my fellow writers' toes :) here's my version of teasing him in public and paying for it later haha
TGIF, Baby ~ ryland grace x reader
3.1k words, smut, oral
--------------
The final day of Ryland’s parent-teacher conferences drags around like molasses. He’s been working overtime to try to make sure all of his students have been given the attention they need to be successful, and that means he’s been completely avoidant of his own needs. Everything from his sleep schedule to his meals is off, he’s a great teacher but man, does it rule his life most of the year.
Which is why you’re walking through the school with a lunchbox in hand, delivering your best attempt at a hearty meal for your workaholic man. It’s nothing crazy, just some pasta you know he likes, with a couple of cookies you baked last night after he texted you that he got home safe much later than he should’ve been out on his bike. You won’t tell him that you prepped all of this yesterday, with a portion packed for yourself, because you knew he’d been skipping lunch all week. You timed your break to line up with his, rounding the corner from your office right as a couple left his classroom.
You knock on the open door, smiling when he looks up from his desk. He’s exhausted, his shoulders slumped forward, fingers rubbing at the bags under his eyes, but he smiles brightly when he sees you. “Lunchtime, Mr. Grace,” you set the container down, pulling out the already warm pasta and passing it to him quietly.
He holds the bowl in both hands, looking up at you with big eyes. “You brought me lunch?” He asks so softly, you would have missed it if you weren’t looking at him still. “Of course I did, sweetheart. You’ve been too busy, I know you’ve skipped every break this week.” You take a seat in one of the chairs across from him, digging in while he stares.
Finally, a sweet smile pulls at his lips, his hand swiping through the back of his hair. “Thank you,” he whispers, biting the inside of his cheek. “Ask me next time, I don’t want you riding your bike while starving,” you level your fork at him, squinting until he gives you a sheepish nod.
The conversation shifts, you try to get him talking about anything other than work. He brings up a new movie he wants to see, you tell him about the plot twist you just got to in your book, it’s comfortable. Your relationship is still new, only a few months in, but it feels like you’ve known each other forever. He abuses your admin role to stay up to date on the adult drama, while you bug him for the student drama, it’s a good trade, you think.
“So,” he starts, “I get your cooking when I’m busy, what do you want when you’re busy?” He’s trying to make the labor equal, you know that’s something he takes very seriously. You laugh, standing to pull the cookies out of the lunchbox, “you also get my baking,” and his eyes light up. “You made me cookies too?” He practically whines, turning his head dramatically with a deep breath, like he’s trying to hold himself back.
An alarm on his phone goes off, signalling five minutes until his next meeting. He swipes it off and sighs, standing to circle his desk. He wraps you in a hug, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. He pulls back like that’s it, then dives forward and kisses you for real. You can’t help the small noise it pulls from you, your hands landing on his chest to steady yourself.
Finally, he steps away with pink cheeks and starts cleaning his desk, tucking the bowls back into the lunchbox. You bump his hip with yours, letting him wrap an arm around your waist for just a moment. When you lift the box and turn to leave, he lets out the smallest gasp, “oh, shoot, sorry sweetheart! There must have been condensation on the lid, I got your shirt wet.” You look down to see a wet mark on your waist, nothing that won’t dry in a few minutes, and shrug.
“Not the only thing you get wet,” you whisper with a wink. His eyes go big, his face turning bright red, and all he can do is flounder as you stride out of the classroom and say a quick hello to the parents waiting in the hall as you pass. You heard his stammering as you left, chuckling when you hear him greet the next couple he’s meeting.
You make it back to your office right as your phone buzzes. It’s a text from Ryland, “I’m coming over tonight.” You shoot back a quick, “sounds good 😘” and he replies immediately, “TGIF, baby.” It makes you laugh, knowing you have that kind of effect on him.
—-------
He takes a cab to your place after biking home, claiming he needed to stop by his apartment to pick up some stuff before coming over. You assume he intends to spend the night, much to your excitement. You’re about to pull dinner out of the oven when he arrives, opening the door for him on the way to the kitchen and accepting the kiss he presses to your lips before hurrying away.
He removes his coat slowly, hanging it on a hook before he follows you to see what you made. You don’t have a chance to plate anything though, because he takes the utensils from your hands and pushes you against the opposite counter, away from the hot stove. “Ryland, what are you-” you don’t get to finish that sentence, Ryland is kissing you so deeply you can barely breathe.
He hums, “you don’t get to pull that stunt today and pretend like everything is normal.” Big hands cage you in, his hips pressing forward to grind against you shamelessly. You feel him growing slowly against your hip, “seriously, baby, what the fuck was that?” He licks into your mouth, growling when you reciprocate immediately. You can’t help the smile that sneaks onto your face, loving how worked up he is - how worked up you got him.
He pulls away with a sigh, digging out tin foil to cover the food on the stove so it doesn’t go cold, then he grabs your hand. He all but throws you onto your bed when you reach your room, chasing you right up to the pillows. “Been thinking about what you said all day,” he peels your clothes off with absolutely no time wasted, smirking when you raise your hips to make it easier. “Did you mean it?”
You meet his eyes, taking in just how desperate he looks. Pushing up on your elbows, you kiss him and whisper, “always wet for you, Ryland.” He groans low in his chest, hand gripping the back of your neck to keep you right where he wants you. You drop back onto the mattress and pull him with you, breath hitching when he works his way down your body, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. He’s messy with it, not bothering to stop his drool from leaking down your breasts, too occupied with sucking your nipples and biting anything he can reach.
He moves again, sliding between your legs and nipping your hip as he eases himself down. Blue eyes lock on to your pussy, his thumbs coming up to spread you even more. He doesn’t make any more contact, just watching how your most intimate parts shine in the light. Right when you’re ready to beg, he pulls a little more with his thumbs and spits on your clit.
The moan that tears from your throat catches you off guard, it’s loud and broken and god now you’re desperate too. “Sit on my face,” he says it suddenly, like he needs it more than anything. “Baby, sit on my face, please,” his voice cracks on the last word, one hand moving to squeeze your ass.
You’ve never done that, with him or with anyone, but something in the way he looks at you has you nodding before you even realize you’re moving. He lets out a breath right against your core, collecting himself before he tosses the pillows to the floor and lays down. “Come on, need you up here,” he grunts, reaching for you with a smirk.
You get as far as straddling his chest when you stop, nerves hitting you full force. He sees the hesitation on your face, feels how your legs tense around him. “You don’t have to,” he whispers, offering you a sweet smile, “but I would love if you did.” That gives you enough courage to shift, planting your knees on either side of his head and holding the headboard.
He growls again, hooking his hands around your thighs and pulling you down. “No hovering,” his lips move against you, making you jolt, “if I need air I’ll get it myself.” He looks at you seriously and licks your entrance, his eyes rolling back as soon as your taste hits his tongue. His nose presses in next to your clit and you immediately know you want to grind against it.
“Ride me, hot stuff,” he groans, words muffled against you. He slaps your thigh with one hand and helps you roll your hips with the other, whining when you find a rhythm that makes your head tip back. Your moans sound like music to his ears, especially the high pitched ones that he earns when he sucks your clit just right.
You rock back and forth, grinding on his face as that gentle warmth starts to build in your stomach. He’s sucking and slurping so noisily, groaning and whining when you pick up your pace. You weave a hand into his hair, shaking his head lightly, just enough to make your breath hitch and your legs twitch. Small moans of “please,” and quiet curses fall from your lips, your hips stuttering when he fucks his tongue into you and forces you down harder on his nose.
“I’m gonna-” you try to warn him but he shakes his head and throws you into your orgasm head first. You shake above him, holding the headboard with trembling fingers, your head dropping forward like you just can’t support it anymore. The shudders roll through you like fire, his mouth working you higher and higher until all you can do is grind down on him with a cry. He watches your face the whole time, brows knitted like he’s committing the sight to memory.
When he sucks your clit back into his mouth, your whole body jumps. You lift off of him, panting hard, and use the hand in his hair to keep him down on the bed. “One more, baby,” he rushes out, “please, just one more.”
You nod, “just give me a sec, Ry.” He rubs your thighs, strokes up your back, around to thumb your nipples. The touch makes you jump again, pulling a small laugh from him. You shoot him a look and he just smiles at you, the perfect picture of innocence except for the fact that he’s still directly under your soaked cunt.
Your legs are sore as you sink back down on him, gasping when he resumes like he never stopped. His pace is quick, he’s guiding your hips again, his tongue slipping right into your hole with a moan of his own. You ride him as well as you can, feeling how he sucks in a breath with each lift of your weight.
He’s absolutely ruined beneath you, eyes closed in concentration, hair sticking out in every direction, his saliva and your slick shining on his nose and high on his cheeks. You brush his hair back from his forehead, a movement much too tender compared to the rest of what’s taking place, and he forces his eyes open. He looks drunk, glossy and unfocused, and it lights a fire in your core that has you clenching hard.
And then he starts talking. You can’t make out what he’s saying but his voice is lower than you’ve ever heard, growls vibrating against your sensitive skin and making your eyes roll back. That fire is back with a vengeance, your legs shake and your back arches, signalling just how close you are. He sees it, feels it, and holds you still with strong hands, eating you so precisely it’s obvious that he’s been studying your body.
Every move is purposeful, every flick of his tongue is exact, and he draws you right to the edge in a matter of moments. Your moans grow louder and he nods and groans under you, letting you know that he knows, that he wants it as much as you do. You tumble over the edge a second time, grinding against his face with more energy than you knew you had left.
The pleasure rips through you, your vision dimming around the edges as you shake, hands gripping the bed frame to keep you upright. When you come down enough to breathe, you see him still below you. His eyes are shining, something dangerous glinting in the bright blue that makes your stomach flip. His hands are smoothing all over your body, giving you time to recover.
He helps you lift your hips just enough for him to slide out from under you, strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you down to the bed. He hovers over you, letting you get a good look at him. He’s shining from his neck to the tops of his cheeks, your slick clearly having dripped down his chin and soaked him. It makes you clench again, seeing how proudly he wears your cum.
He presses a filthy kiss to your lips, heated and tangy and hotter than any kiss you’ve shared with him so far in your relationship. “You think you can give me one more?” He whispers against your cheek, voice rough and needy. He waits patiently while you find your words, lets you kiss him again while you assess your body. When you feel confident that you can take him, you break the kiss with a bite to his lip, “yeah, one more.”
The smile that breaks across his face is dark, he wastes no time manhandling you onto your hands and knees. A surprised squeak works its way out of your throat at the movement, making him chuckle behind you. It turns into a moan, though, when he sits back to take in the sight of you on display for him. Your core is still soaked, slick coating the inside of your thighs and making your skin shine just for him.
Ryland takes a deep breath and lays himself over your back, letting his hard length slide against your pussy with a shiver. You feel him kiss your shoulder, feel him run a hand down your ass, and finally feel him notch his tip right at your entrance. A quiet groan and he pushes in - you take every inch, relaxing so he doesn’t meet any resistance. He bottoms out and whimpers into your back, his body shuddering and his breathing heavy.
A testing thrust has you both crying out, your arms giving way as quickly as you knew they would. You cushion your face against the mattress, accepting that you’re just going to be ass up for the rest of the night. Ryland doesn’t seem to mind, checking that you’re okay before he starts pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes.
It’s almost unfair how good he fucks you, how easily he takes you apart with nothing but his cock. His hands are firm on your hips, pulling you back against him in time with his movements. “God, you’re so wet,” he whines out, punctuating it by shortening his strokes so you can hear just how obscene it sounds. You’d be embarrassed if you hadn’t been asking for it, you think.
“This what you were talking about earlier, baby?” He’s getting the words out between harsh pants and bitten moans, but it’s more than you’re able to do in your current position. “You make me pasta and I fuck you stupid, huh?” He teases, leaning over your back so he can deliver the next line right into your ear. “Y’so sexy like this, just letting me take what I want.”
Your moans get higher, you try to tell him that you’re close but he understands. “I know, I know, you can come, baby. I’m right behind you.” He slides a hand around you, fingers finding your clit and helping you along. You grind against him, feeling the heat licking up your spine, and plunge right into your third orgasm. You clench down on him, muffling your cries in the mattress as your hips jerk uncontrollably.
Your back arches, pressing you farther into the sheets, and Ryland whines above you. He fucks you through your high, fighting to hold his own at bay until he’s sure he’s gotten everything out of you he possibly can. When he finally lets himself tip over the edge, he gives you a few deep, hard thrusts, and bottoms out with a groan. He’s laying over your body, tensing and flexing and finally relaxing against your back.
He stays there for a moment, running tender hands up and down your arms, pressing kisses to your shoulder and neck, just breathing in your scent and admiring what he can see of your blissed-out expression. He’s slow to pull out, hands holding your hips up so he can watch your combined releases leak out of your puffy core. He pushes his cum back in with his thumb, whispering an apology when you twitch.
You flop to the side, reaching out for Ryland with barely open eyes. He complies happily, laying next to you and pulling you on top of him. You melt into him, letting his soft touches bring you back to earth. Finally, he lets out a breathy laugh, “sorry, I just came in and threw you on the bed. I was thinking about what you said all day, drove me insane.”
You can hear the concern in his voice, note how he needs reassurance just as much as you do in this moment. You lift your head to look at him, “no need to apologize, I started it.” You smile at him and add, “and you never have to apologize for fucking me like that, I mean holy shit.”
He laughs for real, shaking you with the force, and nods quickly. “Yes, ma’am,” he presses a kiss to your lips, “more of that, then.”
Eventually your stomach will growl and Ryland will carry you to the bathroom before he puts dinner back in the oven, but you have a few minutes, so you sink into the warmth he’s currently offering and enjoy every second of attention you can get.
pls pls pls we need nsfw hcs of grace being jealous i just know that man would be NASTY when he is
this needs to be more of a continuous stream of thoughts instead of just hcs, i think. [mdni]
jealousy, for someone so emotionally guarded and insecure as Grace, is like being hotboxed with a highly unpleasant intoxicant. the emotion gnaws at his heart with such sharp, jagged teeth, and he's left with a kind of sorrow that causes actual physical pain to spring up inside his body. he feels it mostly in his chest, and he's torn between wanting to curl in on himself and disappear, and yanking you away and out of the vicinity of that person who thinks they can just do whatever they want with you.
you can't play dumb with this man. don't play dumb with him — that's the better advice, actually. Grace will never expect you to be as smart as he is (or if you are objectively smarter than him, that'll piss him off even more), so if you try to act like you really didn't know that that person was flirting with you, he'll make sure that you will know before it even happens again. you'll feel it in the way Grace practically manhandles you once he gets you alone; his kisses are frantic and a bit more forceful than usual, and his arms are keeping you pressed up against him as he moves from your face to your neck to mark you up. it's not in his nature to be confrontational — not anymore, ever since that lapse in his judgment happened in the conference and got him fired and pushed out of academia — so he resorts to more subtle (well, not really) means of communicating that you're his by gifting you patches of pink and purple wherever he could reach. his fingers are threading through your hair, anchoring you exactly where he wants as he's invading your mouth with his.
Grace somewhat softens when he starts fucking you, because that's when he also begins talking. he won't be giving you any explanation during foreplay, but that all changes once he's inside you: he'll be oscillating between desperate, whiny questions of who that person even was; how they're of any relevance to you and why you were even talking to them (which, he expects you to answer) — and rough grunts and declarations of who you belong to and the prescribed behavior that he wants you to employ — "you're mine — mine, mine mine," he pants, punctuating every iteration of that word with the snapping of his hips, "don't you ever forget that, you hear me?"
his insecurity flares severely in these moments, bleeding into that inherent need of his to be praised. deep down, he just wants to be affirmed that you love only him; that you want only him, and that it's he who you want to be with for the rest of your days, especially when he's already invested so much of his heart and soul into your relationship. Grace would take your chin with his free hand — the other thumbing your clit in tight, delicious ovals as he pounds into you — and direct your attention to him. "tell me who's the only one who can fuck you like this," he hisses, knowing there's only a single correct answer to this imperious demand. when you inevitably manage to utter his name, Grace nods, smiling lopsidedly as he continues driving his cock into you, "mhm, that's right, sweetheart — only me, you got that? hm?"
as his final act of imposing his claim over your entire being, Grace empties himself into you until he's completely spent; he doesn't pull out, because he wants his cum to stay inside you for as long as possible — instead, he gathers you up in his embrace, the adrenaline of his jealousy and lust fueling him still, and holds you right where he wants until you both finally resurface from the depths of your lovemaking — or fucking, since that's a little more semantically appropriate.
the wound that jealousy dealt onto him only starts to heal when you wrap your own arms around him and melt into his touch; if you can still speak, tell him how much you love him with every ounce of sincerity that you've got, and that you only have eyes for him and no one else; and you'll be swiftly forgiven. Grace loves you so much; too much, to even think of prolonging that residual anger that's been lingering in his heart.
tomorrow is my birthday so I had to write myself a little present LOL
2.3k words, smut, oral, all the things I always do
summary: ryland throws you a birthday party on Erid, he has to wait for Rocky and Adrian to leave before giving you the rest of your gifts
-------------------------------
The water was cold on your feet, waves lapping gently at your ankles as you strolled along the beach. Adrian skittered along next to you, telling you about their favorite artists on Erid. One thing Eridians had was a rich history of sculptors, carvers and mosaic-makers, and you were blown away by their innate ability to create anything they imagined.
Adrian walked you all the way to the end of the beach, sitting down to ask questions about art on Earth. You told them about the famous painters you remembered, tried to describe the most famous works. The earth sculptors were a particular interest of theirs, immediately making the connection that both planets carve replicas of beloved heros. Adrian had made a passing comment not long ago about a potential statue going up depicting you, Ryland and Rocky. You weren’t sure how to feel about it, but you figured there was already a statue like that on your home planet, so you let it go.
When the conversation reached a lull, Adrian stood and beckoned you to follow. The walk back to the house was quiet, both of you mulling over the connections your planets shared, how society developed similarly, even lightyears away from each other. From community building to art, social structures to family dynamics, it seemed like life tended to evolve in similar ways with intelligent beings.
Adrian picked back up talking when you reached the stairs leading to the house, stomping a little harder than normal as they climbed. You were laughing by the time you reached the front door, trying to figure out why those usually perfectly graceful legs were suddenly so clunky. You opened the door, slipping your shoes off and freezing.
Ryland and Rocky were standing in the living room, paper hats sitting proudly on their heads. There was a banner hanging on the wall, “happy birthday” written in Ryland’s familiar style. He takes a small step forward, holding what looks like a crude recreation of a cake with a candle lit on top.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he’s got a small smile on his face, his eyes soft. Rocky gives jazz hands and bounds over to you. “It is celebration time!”
You take a moment to soak it in, a smile breaking across your face and tears springing to your eyes before you can stop them. “You threw me a party?” Your voice is quiet, a little overwhelmed. “Wait, how do you know it’s today?”
Ryland shrugs, “I did some math, it might not be totally accurate but I had to make some assumptions.” He puts the cake down on the coffee table and moves toward you, hands coming up to hold you tightly. “But don’t ask how old you are, I couldn’t figure that one out.” He laughs against your hair.
You can’t help but press a kiss to his lips, he’s all too happy to comply, melting against you easily. The celebration itself was simple, cake and gifts, laughter and light conversation, nothing to bring the mood down. Rocky made you a new clip for your hair, Adrian presented you with a small sculpture of your two suns, connected by a thin string. Ryland was a little shy when he pulled out his gift, a delicate necklace. It was silver in color, a light blue stone hanging off the chain.
You let him put it around your neck, wiping a stray tear before you turned back around and felt him press his lips to your forehead.
Once the sun had set and Rocky and Adrian made their way home for the night, you draped your legs over Ryland’s on the couch and thanked him for all of this. “Our lives look different now, but we can still hold on to traditions we like,” his hands trace along your calf, fingers brushing under your knee and lifting your leg enough to place a chaste kiss to the skin.
“When is your birthday?” You intend to absolutely spoil this man when it’s his turn. “A few months, you have time to plan,” he laughs against your knee, letting his hand glide a little higher on your leg. You move to accommodate him when he lifts your legs off of him and lays himself down on top of you. Your hands go right to his hair, stroking through the strands while he wraps his arms around your middle.
You loved these moments. Loved how he would mold himself against you like he couldn’t possibly belong anywhere else. The soft kisses pressing against your neck and chest were expected, welcome even, as he admired the necklace resting on your skin. “It’s so pretty, Ry, you did good,” you felt him hum against you, lifting his head enough to see you. “It looks perfect on you.”
He kisses you properly, tongue slipping out and claiming yours. Warm hands slide under your shirt and press against your back, finding purchase on your sides and squeezing. Your breath hitches and he smiles, “Do you want your second gift here or would you prefer the bed?” A laugh bubbles out of your chest, “here is fine.”
He nods, helping you sit up and dropping to his knees in front of you. Quick hands pull your shirt and pants off, his speed pulls another laugh from you and the wink he shoots you has you cupping his cheeks and kissing him again. He separates from you only to pull his own shirt off, then he’s on you for good.
He pushes your legs apart, trailing kisses up your thighs, teasing the sensitive skin. The first kiss to your clothed mound makes your eyes close with a sigh. He licks a stripe up your panties, moaning at the first taste of you, before pulling the fabric to the side and pressing his nose against your clit. “How much do you like these?” He asks, snapping the elastic band on your hips.
“I only have so many pairs here -” whatever else you were going to say was cut off as he ripped them in two places, pushing the scraps over your leg and diving in. “Ryland!” But he just laughs against your core and scrapes his teeth over your clit, closing his lips and sucking hard enough to feel your legs clamp against his head.
He pries your legs apart and teases your entrance with his tongue, dipping in before moving back up to circle your bud. When he finally thrusts his tongue in properly, you’re dripping. The little moans you let out make his head spin, the way he slides a finger against your folds makes your head spin.
He presses in slowly, groaning against you as your walls make room for him. Your hands are buried in his hair, twisting and tugging, holding him steady when he sucks over a particularly good spot. He’s watching your face, your chest, the way you throw your head back. God, you’re his favorite sight. He lifts his free hand to your cheek, thumb stroking in time with the thrusting of his other hand.
You turn your head and catch his thumb with your lips, sucking him in and swirling your tongue around the tip. He lets out the shakiest whimper you’ve ever heard from him, doubling his efforts on your core. The fingers inside you curl up, finding that spot and pressing hard. Between that, his suckling on your clit, the filthy noises he’s letting out and his thumb in your mouth, you feel lightheaded and on edge.
There’s heat pooling in your stomach, your hands shake in his hair and you barely manage to get out a warning before you’re falling apart around him. You feel it along your spine, a warm wave rushing over your whole body, legs clamping down on him again. He works you through it, pulling his thumb from your lips to grip your thigh.
He finally leans back a little when you push his head away, trying to catch your breath. He doesn’t get up, just stays between your legs, eyes shining up at you. “Stop me if it gets to be too much,” he whispers against your skin. Your brows shoot up when he dives back in, strong hands pushing your legs down.
His tongue goes right back to your clit, flicking harshly. Your voice is strained when you call his name, your hands flying right back to his hair. He laps up your come, nose bumping your bud hard enough to make your legs jerk. His eyes are back on yours, piercing blue searching your expression for any discomfort. He finds none, but the glinting of the necklace around your neck makes him pause.
You feel him hesitate and open your eyes to look at him, seeing how focused he is on your chest. He slides a hand back up your body, fingers tugging gently against the chain. His other hand goes back to your core, pushing in until your eyes roll back and you choke out a sob. “Look so beautiful in this,” he tugs the chain again, basking in the noise it pulls from you.
You’re already close when he focuses his attention back on your clit, all lips and teeth and tongue, letting you hold him against you as tightly as you want. You hear him groan against you, feel the vibrations and the curl of his fingers and you’re gone again. You tumble over the edge harder this time, throwing your head back and rolling your hips against his face. He lets you ride it out, working you through it until you shove him back definitively.
He goes willingly, finally standing and dropping a heated kiss to your lips. Your release is all over his face, you taste it on his tongue, smell it on him. He sits next to you, pulling you to lean against his chest, just letting you rest. He’s never in a rush, would never push you for his own sake, especially on your birthday.
“You feel good, baby?” He asks against your hair, a soft kiss landing on the top of your head. “So good, Ry.” You think for just a moment, “can we go to bed now?” He laughs, scooping you up and carrying you to the other room. He sets you down gingerly, climbing over you and kissing the length of your body.
He says your name quietly, “you still want more?” You nod, biting your lip and fingering the blue stone around your neck. He groans into your stomach and gets his pants off in record time. He’s so hard it looks painful, you wonder how he was able to ignore it this whole time. “Always want more with you, Ryland.”
His eyes roll back at that, his shoulders dropping and a breathy whine falling from his lips. A big hand grabs under your thigh, lifting your leg almost against your side, and he’s sliding in with no hesitation. The stretch is exactly what you wanted, the feeling has your head turning to the pillow, muffling your moans against the sheet.
His breath hitches when he’s all the way in, head dropping to your shoulder for only a moment. He lifts up and rolls his hips, practically drooling at how easily you take him. His eyes land back on your necklace, you feel how the sight makes his thrusts falter for a second. It gives you an idea, you moan his name and press your breasts together, knowing how it drives him crazy.
With the necklace sitting so prettily between the valley of your breasts, his name on your lips, your tight walls clamping down on him, he knows he’s a goner. Big fingers rush to your clit, circling just how you like, chasing your high before he tumbles off the edge too quickly. “God, sweetheart, that’s not fair,” he groans out. “Perfect tits and tight pussy, you know that’s my weakness.”
You roll your hips to meet his, feeling that warmth pooling again, pulling your nipples to try to get yourself there. The sight makes him whimper, praise falling from his lips, mixing with his groans and moans. He pushes your leg a little higher, circles his fingers just right, and you’re tumbling over the edge with a cry. The heat sparks through you like wildfire, your limbs shaking through it. You pull him over with you, feeling his hips stutter a few times before he slams in and stills with a loud moan.
He drops your leg so he can fall on top of you, lips finding yours and hands caging your head in. “Fucking perfect, oh my god,” he’s breathless above you, “you’re never taking that necklace off.” He kisses a line down your throat, landing on the blue stone and just admiring it. He grabs your hand from his side and moves it back to your breast, “squeeze ‘em again for me.”
A blush creeps up your cheeks but you do as he asks, laughing as he drops his face right against the plush skin. His tongue laves hot kisses on your chest, teeth coming out to hold the pendant carefully. You like how it looks sitting on his lips, blue of the stone so close in shade to the blue of his eyes. He sees you staring and throws you a wink, “I did mean for this to just be a gift for you, but it might be for me too, I think.”
“Yeah?” You’re smiling at him and it makes him melt.
“I like that I put it there,” he murmurs into your skin. There’s that possessive streak you love in him. “I love it, Ryland, thank you for all of this.”
He gives you a sappy smile and kisses the stone one more time, “happy birthday, sweetheart.”
----------------------
i'm making progress with my book so updates are going to slow down probably, just a heads up :)
2.8k words, smut, use of vibrator, overstimulation a little
Ryland finds a little secret you've hidden away on Erid, would he even be a scientist if he didn't experiment?
This is actually filthy, sorry in advance
---------
You hadn’t meant to start something, but that’s usually how conversations go with Rocky and Adrian now that you were settled on Erid. When asked if there was anything still on the Hail Mary that you might want brought down to the planet, you mentioned a duffel bag that was left behind in the initial move. You didn’t tell them why you wanted it, just made a passing comment about if they happen to see it, could they grab it.
That, of course, led to a small group of Eridians, accompanied by Rocky, making the trip back up to do a sweep of the ship. They brought down a ton of stuff, just kind of whatever they saw, really. You and Ryland spent an afternoon sorting and organizing, it sounded silly but you realized that neither of you wanted to throw anything away. Any reminders of earth you had were on that ship, which made it hard to separate from. Ryland drew the line at literal trash, saying that the Eridians could at least study the materials for their own research.
Your duffel bag was the first thing you brought back to the house, setting it in the closet and honestly forgetting about it. With so much going on in the biodome, there was always something to supervise. If nothing else, Rocky and Adrian kept you busy.
So when you returned to the house one afternoon, quietly studying some new materials Rocky dropped off for you both to examine, and spotted Ryland sitting on the bed, you thought nothing of it.
He let you show him the samples, listened intently while you explained where they came from and what they were used for. He left you alone for a bit, letting you do your thing for a few hours.
Until he couldn’t anymore.
His arms wrapped around your stomach, head coming down to kiss your temple, your cheek, your jaw. You don’t try to stop him, recognizing his message instantly. He wanted something, he was just being a little shy about asking. You turn to him with a hum, giving him a smile with raised eyebrows, expectant.
“Making any big discoveries over here?” He asks with a smirk against your lips.
“Huge discoveries, actually,” and you kiss him properly.
He kisses you lazily, taking his time, drawing out whatever he was so shy about. He used to be this way when it came to intimacy of any sort, reserved, like he was embarrassed to ask for anything. But it had been a few years since then, the confidence boost you gave him made him a little bit of a monster in bed, honestly. You had quietly told him that you like it when he takes charge, like when he’s not scared to tell you what he wants. That conversation had freed him, he told you later.
You wouldn’t push him now, he would tell you when he was ready, even if it did make you extremely curious. He’s not mysterious, as much as he wants to be, he’ll crack soon, he can’t help it. You let him pull you out of your seat and loop your arms over his shoulders. He hugs you to him for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then he’s moving, dragging you to the bedroom and down onto his lap. You don’t fight him, taking a seat right where he wants you.
He kisses you again, this time it’s heated. Teeth and tongues, groans and whimpers as you roll your hips over his a little. His hands roam your thighs and hips, sliding over your ass to help move you on him. He makes a small noise into your mouth and pulls back, he’s struggling to hold eye contact with you and oh, that’s new.
“I-um, so I made a discovery of my own today…” His face is red, he’s staring at your nose, hands tightening on your back.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm. You know all that - um, all that stuff they brought down from Mary for us?”
Uh oh, you’re caught. It brings a small smirk to your lips, thinking about Ryland snooping through your things, his face going bright red when he saw it.
You let out a breath, tapping his cheek to get him to look at you. “Tell me, baby,” you’re all sweet tones, might as well have a little fun with him, you think.
He finally looks into your eyes, “I, ha-uh found your-your vibrator…”
There it is.
“Didn’t know you had that up there,” a pause, “did you ever use it?”
You never had the chance, considering the close quarters and the alien who could see through walls and hear every sound you made. He would have alerted Ryland immediately, you just knew it. You shake your head with a laugh, “no, there’s no way I would’ve been able to without you knowing.”
He sits with that for a moment, gears turning in his head. The eye contact feels a little overwhelming now, he’s biting his bottom lip and circling his thumbs on the skin under your shirt. “Can I use it on you?”
Your brows shoot up, heat flushing your face. “You want to… I-I mean, yes, yeah totally,” your flustered answer pulls a laugh from him. A hand on the back of your head slams you down to his lips, he groans into you, unable to help the twitch of his hips at your words.
He makes quick work of your clothes, peeling you out of everything and laying you flat on the bed. His mouth suctions to your throat, little nibbles and licks making your breath hitch. One of his hands holds him up while the other roams your body. Nimble fingers run up your side, skirting around your breast. He’s all teasing touches and soft words, slowing down like he’s been waiting for this all day. He probably has been, you think.
Kisses move down your chest, paying special attention to each nipple. The scratch of his beard is delicious against your heated skin, he leaves red marks everywhere he kisses without even trying. Your hands are in his hair, on his back, sinking nails into his shoulders. One thing you know about Ryland is that when he has you like this, he can’t help but ravish you, taking his time and working you up so sweetly.
He’s moving again, sliding all the way down until he can throw your legs over his shoulders. He doesn’t dive right in, taking a second to look up at you and admire the sight. You feel that heat in your cheeks again, then he said, “I turned it on earlier, it’s kind of strong. Is.. is it better for you if I-um warm you up a little?”
The heat changes for you then, from a hot flush in your face to a warmth settling in your chest. Of course Ryland would be thinking about how he can make it as good for you as possible. All he ever does is worry about your comfort, you can almost picture the look on his face when he felt how powerful the toy was.
And you can’t blame him, to be completely fair. You know what Stratt packed for you, it was your request - a brand new satisfyer pro 2. You had the pro on earth, Stratt decided on the upgrade to the pro 2, citing that the reviews were even better. There was no resistance from you, if she was going to shoot you into space, well, you wouldn’t stop her from providing the best of the best for personal time.
But with Ryland already laying between your legs, you didn’t really want to stop him. “Warm me up a little, please?” Your hand strokes his cheek, watching his eyes flutter closed as he leans into you. His tongue licks a smooth stripe up, wide and flat, stopping just short of your clit. He does it a few more times, wanting a moan from you before he finally flicks over your sensitive bud.
Your hands bury in his hair, tugging the golden strands, encouraging him on. Ryland handles eating your pussy like he handles the rest of your body, he takes his time, chasing your noises, planting soft kisses between the harsher sucks. He feels your legs try to clamp around his head and pulls back, climbing up over you to lick into your mouth and let you taste yourself. It makes your moan jump up in pitch and he eats it up.
You see him slide a hand under his pillow, he pulls out the vibrator and just sets it beside you, looking to you for help. “Show me how you use it?” He whispers it against your mouth, a little unsure but so endearing. You nod, kissing him again, and push him up so he’s sitting on his knees between your spread legs.
You pick up the toy, examining it for a moment, you know how intense your orgasms can be with these things, you almost feel like you should warn him in case you accidentally kick him. His hands running soothingly over your legs pulls you back to him, he lifts under your knee and kisses the bend, trying to hide how excited he is behind his simmering stare.
“Come on, baby, wanna see what you can do,” his voice is gruff, like he’s pushing down his own need. That’s all it takes for you to turn the toy on. You reach down and run it through the slick at your entrance. The slow slide up to your clit is familiar, making your legs twitch as you land right where you need it. The pulsing immediately draws a gasp from you, the sight making Ryland moan low in his throat.
“That feel good, sweetheart? Looks fucking amazing,” his eyes are locked on your core, watching how your cunt clenches with each small movement of your wrist. You give it a moment before you turn the speed up once, giving yourself just enough to get your hips rolling. Muscle memory kicks in and your free hand reaches up to your breast, rolling your nipple with a sigh.
Ryland just watches, studying how you move the toy so minutely, amazed at how intimately you seem to know your body. He lets you work yourself up, his steady pressure on your legs grounding you, helping you remember that he’s here. Until he can’t sit still anymore. His hand covers yours, silently asking for control. You give it to him easily, letting him slide the head of the toy around until he finds all the spots that make you shake.
He ups the speed, watching in amazement as your whole body reacts. “Is this okay?” He whispers against your thigh. Your nod and moan are the only answer he gets, but he takes that as permission to experiment more. He sets your leg down to bring his hand to your slit, fingers sliding through your wetness and circling your entrance. He pushes one finger in, groaning at how tight you are. “I can feel the vibrations, holy shit,” he’s just as breathless as you are.
He pumps two fingers into you, curling up and finding that spot inside you. It nearly makes you scream when he rubs against the nerves. That mixed with the pulsing going steadily on your clit pushes you right over the edge. You come with a cry, body spasming around Ryland’s fingers. He doesn’t stop, letting you ride it out until you’re grabbing the toy and turning the speed down with a groan.
“Holy shit, baby. That was amazing. You’re so fucking hot, oh my god.” He’s laying over you again, hands holding your face, kissing you messily. It takes a minute for you to come down, but he’s patient with you while you find yourself again. “That was a big one, you okay?” He’s so gentle with you, you swear he has no idea how much of a turn on it is.
“Mm, I’m good.” A deep breath. You feel his cock pressing against you, you know he would be more than happy to stop after that, but you’re not quite ready for that. “Ry, will you use it while you fuck me?” You’re not even embarrassed at the words coming out of your mouth, too busy thinking about how good it would feel to come with him like that.
He makes a strangled noise, burying his head in your neck. He twitches in his pants, can’t help it when he ruts into you, seeking that sweet pressure against him. “Yeah,” he says your name into your skin, “yeah, we can do that.” The heat in his eyes is a stark contrast to how gently he holds you, like he can’t believe he gets to have you like this.
He sits back again, lifting your hips and sliding a pillow under you. His shirt and pants come off quickly, his dick bouncing up as soon as it’s free. He gives himself a few strokes, watching as you turn the toy back on, making sure it’s on a low setting and settling it against your clit again. It makes you moan, you’re so sensitive from your last release. Ryland lines himself up and presses the tip in, leaning over you again like he just can’t hold himself up.
The moan that slips out of him is raw and high pitched. The vibrations are a lot, and he’s only got the tip in. “Holy - oh baby, this is - you’re incredible.” The praise falls from his lips like second nature, he’s nearly babbling already. Your legs wrap around his back enough to press him in a little further. He manages to hold it together until he’s fully seated in your warm heat, but as soon as his hips meet yours he whimpers.
You feel so full, the stimulation from the toy making you clench harder than normal. You bask in it for only a moment, turning the vibrator up a notch and letting your head fall back with a gasp. He gives a testing thrust, shuddering as he makes it almost all the way out before bullying his way back in. He finds a rhythm, his face stays buried in your neck, muffling his whines.
The warmth in your stomach coils tight, your legs shaking on either side of him. Ryland feels it, can sense how close you’re getting, so he slides a hand down and pushes a button on the toy, turning it up once more. Your jaw drops, voice cracking on his name. Your back arches up into him, your spasming walls pulling him under with you. Your vision whites out as he comes with the loudest groan you’ve ever heard from him.
He keeps pumping into you, biting back his cries to hear yours. It’s an overwhelming feeling, you can’t stop shaking, can’t stop your fingers from digging into his back. And you don’t know what comes over him but the hand he still has on the toy hits the button again. The speed jumps up and you feel him slam into you one, two, three more times. You never had a chance, really, and that coil built fast and snapped faster.
You convulsed under him as you came a third time, your body wringing his cock for all it’s worth before going limp. He quickly turns the toy down, taking care to remove it from your swollen clit gently. Your breath comes in short pants, eyes heavy and legs shaking.
You feel Ryland set the toy aside, his now soft cock sliding out of you with a wet noise. He’s placing kisses all over you, whispering praise quietly, like he was afraid to disturb your peace. His weight presses you into the mattress, grounding pressure helping to bring you back to him. When your eyes finally crack open, you see Ryland above you. He’s smiling from ear to ear, his eyes glowing.
“There you are. You okay, sweetheart?” His voice is low, big hands coming up to stroke your hair out of your face.
You take a quick inventory of yourself - shaking legs, trembling hands, floaty head - yep, you’re more than okay. You pull him into a kiss, trying to find your voice.
“That was so good, Ry. So, so good.”
His smile grows impossibly wider and he pushes up to look down at your body, his face going a little red again. “Did you know you could squirt?” The sly smirk that comes out does not go unnoticed.
“Mhm, just haven’t ever done it with a partner,” it’s your turn to go a little red.
“Aw, I got to be your first?” And he laughs, kissing your cheek.
“Shut up,” and you laugh too.
He rolls you both over so you’re laying on his chest. You enjoy the quiet for a few minutes, just soaking in the bliss. But Ryland is Ryland, and he always has something to talk about.
“I bet Rocky could make different kinds of toys for us to use…”
“Ryland!”
“Just a thought! I never tried any back home, I’d love to see what else I’ve been missing out on.”
i know hes like. dying. but his miserable pose and the placement of the stone slabs reminds me of that sad frog image where the frog has fallen over and dropped his food tray
Author's note: I've had this stashed away for months but since the Elden Ring fever came back recently I decided to finish it. Morgott is one of my favorite characters :>
Relationships: Morgott/Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, Size difference, Technically monsterfucking but he's not a monster to me <3, Creampies, Reader is not specified as tarnished or anything else
Word count: 3446
Ao3 Mirror
Callused fingers drift along your skin, rough and unforgiving. His hands cupped your body with the tenderness of a man admiring a freshly painted masterpiece — still wet with varnish.
He always touches you with such gentleness; you'd dare say it almost nears a sort of reverence.
He acts as if it's the only way to, other than perhaps when he grows irritated with you and tugs your arm, or nudges you forward down a path. Other than those times, his hands feel like soft fabric on your skin — barely there.
Afraid that not only could he hurt you, but if he ever put the full weight of his large, callused hands on your body, you might recoil from him. That you've simply held your tongue on the matter of his malignancy and will suddenly shudder and flee once you actually feel his rough fur and diseased skin.
He still hasn't accepted that you want him fully — despite myriads of times you've told him otherwise. Oftentimes he will forgo his own desires simply to satisfy you, and only if you insist does he eventually seat himself in you and take a small bit for himself.
You wish he wouldn't be so hesitant. So careful. Ever since he first laid eyes on you, he seemed to think you were made of the thinnest glass, and that you were only here because of the things he can do for you, not because of him.
“Here.”
You smiled, grasping the book. Your fingers brushed across his own much larger hand in the process. You paid no mind to it other than the warmth of his skin and brush of his fur — warmth flooded your cheeks. Inappropriate imagery drifted across your mind. You wished he would stay.
“Thank you. I'll read it tonight.”
His fingers now danced along your inner thighs as you panted, bathed in a delightful afterglow. His fingers shined with your own release, inner thighs slick with arousal as he pulled them from your core.
It felt wonderful, but you wanted more. Your blood was still hot and your clit still throbbed, you wanted to get rid of that distinctive empty aching.
“Please don't tell me you're finished, My Lord.”
He had been looking away from you, golden eyes glancing to meet yours for a moment. They pin you to the bed, though hesitancy is clear behind the strength.
You reach up and tangle fingers through the fur along his face, brushing along his horns. His voice rumbles in your chest.
“Thou is always so greedy.”
You smile at him, heart still knocking against your chest. Still do you want him, you don't think you'll ever be satisfied until you feel the weight of him pinning you down as he makes you his; the feeling of his fur on your skin.
“It is greed to desire you? If so then I suppose I’m guilty, cast me down and throw me to the-”
Morgott groans, one of his hands moving to your hip. It is delightful to feel how much it covers, how his thumb pushes into the soft flesh inside your hip bone while still wrapping around to your back.
“Quiet,”
He lifts your hips, pulling your lower back off the bed. You've learned to navigate such extreme differences in size quite quickly. He finds his own size clumsy and in the way — you find it delightful. How his hands can fully encircle your body, the burn of your thighs trying to part for him. Perhaps his massive tail and rough fur surprised you in that dark library at first, but now it’s simply Morgott.
You've spared no expense in detailing how much you enjoy when he cages you like this, or how you feel so safe and warm when he stands behind you with a hand on your shoulder.
Each time he'll scoff at you, attempting not to take any of it to heart. You'll puff out your cheeks and sigh and getting your affections swatted away once again. He doesn’t allow himself to simply accept them.
The only thing that gets a different reaction is when you are ruthlessly overt; you look at him and tell him how much you miss him. That it's so cold, you need his warmth. Those will get you wide, golden eyes that stare at you shocked, before he shushes your harlotry that you had the gall to display. His insults held like old paper however, and you could always hear the slight waiver. He still would think even then you were simply teasing him.
This time however he hadn’t just scolded you, he shooed you off and told you to wait; that he would deal with you later. You make him feel like a beast in heat, and he hates it.
“A voracious little thing. Does nothing but my torment satisfy thee?”
Being overt is not your forte, however Morgott simply makes it so easy.
“I can think of a few other things, if you need them listed, my lord.”
He gives a displeased grumble from deep within his chest in response. Shortly thereafter you hear the huffs of him adjusting to move himself closer to you, then notching the head of his cock against your entrance. His hand pushes to the bed near your head, fingers spread wide; you briefly admire the sheer size of his hand before you’re abruptly pulled back to present. Slowly but surely you feel him push into you, the head of his cock popping past your entrance, and your body pliantly gives way as your thighs also spread and yield to him.
His much larger body makes yours always struggle to accommodate, and even now you still feel your hips ache as he sinks himself as deep as he can. A sharp squeak bursts from your throat as he buries himself, unyielding and almost too large. His cock drags along every sensitive bit as he pulls away before snapping back into your heat, sending what feels like lightening up your spine.
The moans you let out spur Morgott on, and the sound of skin on furred skin fills the room along with the heady smell of sweat and sex. The sight of you bare underneath him is still one that he finds almost impossible; not much time ago did he consider all of this just filthy, perverted machinations of his mind. Him yearning for something he was so stupid and selfish for desiring.
But yet somehow it happened, and he feels your hands attempt to hold onto his arms for stability as you bite your lip — breathy moans still slip through and make the blood in his ears thump harder. His tail knocks against the end of the bed, draping over the side and hitting his horns against the wooden frame as his hips slap against yours. A few times his mind perks as if someone was knocking, but he would be too deep in you to consider anything else even if it had been real.
Why would he ever when the one being in this world that doesn’t treat him like a disgusting beast is splayed out before him, hair a mess and skin flushed. Your cunt feels so hot and tight, now that he’s had a taste he doesn’t think he ever would be able to stop. You’ve absolutely drenched his cock, so slick that there isn’t even the slightest bit of resistance. His muscles ripple underneath his fur as he fucks you with restraint. He doesn’t want to risk hurting you, but you test him by continuously singing his name like a mantra and begging for more. Greedy, always greedy, why for him he’ll never know.
“Ah! You can, H-”
The feeling of your body clenching around him, of your pleased whimpers and mewls, he couldn't last much longer with the way your muscles flutter around him.
He moves to pull back and leave you, quickly — but your heels dig into him and hips instinctively follow to try and keep him close, and that’s enough to break him entirely. He grits his teeth and groans as he cums, filling you entirely. His cock throbs, it feels like it never ends. Each time he feels like he’s done, another jolt runs right up his spine as his cock twitches and he cums more. But once he finally does stop, he hisses through his teeth and pulls out while listening to your gasps at the sudden empty feeling and the way cum dribbles down your folds. It feels like his heart is in his stomach for a moment, when he sees it.
“I, apologize— I did not-”
He hadn't meant to, he found it distasteful and selfish to sully your body with it. He would usually pull away from you and finish himself, ignoring your discontent pleas at the sudden emptiness. But you were so blissful and sensitive, delighted by the warmth and softness of his body. Breathless words tumbled from your mouth without filter.
“More,”
He hesitates, listening as you mewl like a feline. His brow almost hurts from how hard it’s furrowed.
“Again… Please Morgott…”
He wants to. He yearns for it, but he keeps fighting it. Only a few times have you both been together like this, it’s still unfamiliar to him.
You are so soft and kind, you deserve more than him. More than an Omen with malformed proportions and tainted blood. His horns are overgrown, hideous spurs; your damned tongue convinced him to stop sawing them all but the few nearest his eyes. It was pointless anyways, they always grew back so quick.
“Stop hesitating, I won't suddenly change my mind.”
Out of breath, he can hear your heart racing in your chest as you mutter up to him.
“I want all of you.”
Morgott shatters like stained glass, his chest forcing out all the air as he pulls you closer again. His still hard cock presses against your messy folds, and it doesn't take much for him to notch against your entrance again. He pushes inward more roughly, cockhead popping past your entrance and making you gasp. You were already prepared for him, by him, and so your body welcomes him back with ease. Doing so forces some of his own cum out and around his cock, making an even larger mess against well worn blankets. You seem to not mind at all, and if anything, seem well eager for him to turn you into a sloppy, well fucked heap in his royal bed.
His hips hit yours hard enough that you swore they might bruise, but the feeling of his weight on you was everything you could ever want. The way you can hear him pant above your head, the slap of his balls against your bottom, how your cunt stretches so wide around his cock. Your moans were loud enough to echo throughout the massive room, while Morgott’s mind swirled between mindless lust and the endless guilt of a man cursed.
“You would let an Omen sully something so-”
A particularly sharp thrust of his hips sends moans flowing from your mouth, the sharp smack of skin on skin fails to drown out your voice.
“Yes! Yes!”
Pressed between the blankets and furs and his own wide chest, the heat is enough that the cold evening couldn't touch you. His breath is hot against your skin as he looms over you. Now leaned on his forearms his full weight cages your boy — your world is just him.
Sometimes, he wonders if it's all an illusion. If some foul magic or creature has manipulated him with his one weakness. It was the option easier for his mind to accept, rather than a woman such as you, so beautiful and kind, desiring him so. Not just chastely, but carnally. Welcoming him into your deepest places, ruining them all — it seems to delight you so. If you wanted to be sullied by an Omen, then he could oblige.
He could feel how tight you are, how your entrance stretches and struggles to fit him. You'll only desire for him, body molded for him, by him. The thought is one makes him guilty, but it never fails to send a jolt right down to his groin.
To make every night like this one, to fill you until there's no more room and it sticks to your thighs in a mess. Afterwards he’d always be able to smell himself on you, marked as his and desiring for no other.
As of late you always did smell faintly of him; From sleeping in the same bed, from holding his hand. But to smell it mixed with that distinctive heady scent…
His hips snap forward and smack against your thighs, earning a sharp moan from you as he drives as deep into you as he can possibly venture. Any higher function that allowed him to speak was quickly deteriorating, melting into a far more feral state he would surely come to regret. The way your cunt flutters around him could almost make him go mad, balls smacking against your bottom as he drives himself into you as deep as he possibly could.
He keeps you at just the right height and from sliding away from the force of his own hips, hand gripping your waist to hold you there. Your difference in size could be cumbersome, but now he only cares about the soft mewls you let out as your cunt wraps around his cock like a vice. It feels like you're trying to pull him into you and keep him there, each time he pulls away your walls are so eager to pull him back in.
Months ago he remembers being thrown off by your sudden kiss under a weeping willow tree; he thought your hair looked perfect under the moon and the Erdtree glow. It was his first and it felt like it lingered on his lips afterward, and in his mind. Now what seemed like moments later, he grimaces and huffs as your nails dig trenches into his skin and you cry out.
He swears he can hear your heart beat — he can see the soft sheen of sweat on your skin. Your cunt clenches around him and attempts to hold him within you as you cum, toes curling and muscles tensed and aching. That unfettering heat was intoxicating; he had no plans to leave you. Lyendell could collapse around him and he wouldn't care.
That building tightness in his body snaps and he grits his teeth, harsh breaths through his nose as he finishes again into you. This time however he seats himself in you to the base, pushing your thighs forward almost against your stomach and painting parts of you untouched by anything else.
He lingers for a bit, laying over you panting as his cock rests inside of you. Only after a few minutes and when he’s caught his breath does he slowly pull from you and hear your whimpers as your cunt aches with emptiness. Instantly cum leaks out from you, and Morgott leans away to see the mess he’s made of you.
He truly is unfathomably selfish — to take something as beautiful as you and keep it all to himself, rendering it a mess.
Your legs fell from around his hips and dropped to the bed, your body limp. When you move to slip yourself beneath the blankets you’d somewhat made a mess of, moving your legs made you whimper.
“Ah, I can already feel how sore I will be tomorrow.”
Morgott looks down on you with tired, golden eyes and tentatively brushes a bit of hair away from your forehead. He doesn’t follow you beneath those blankets at first, he doesn’t need them, but he does when you pull them back and try to push him in. He speaks plainly to you in response.
“Then rest.”
A queen can spend a day in bed if she wishes. And I will make you a queen, if I could be so selfish.
He gets so lost in his own thoughts of you bathed in your favorite color embossed with gold filigree that he barely realizes you're moving to settle in and sleep until you attempt to push him to lie back. Your hands spread across his furred chest, putting your weight into it and attempting to move him despite being twice your size.
He always stiffens when you touch him like this. You nudge yourself between his side and arm, now securely held against him. He watched the entire time, eyes examining as if he still finds this confusing, even if it's not the first time. Perhaps it wasn't routine, but it shouldn't be surprising.
You hum contently as you feel the softness of his fur warm your body; Never have you felt this safe and comfortable as his body cradles you. It only takes moments for you to fall asleep, however Morgott lingers awake for far longer and simply watches.
In the morn, you lay on his chest and hum content, feeling his soft fur on your skin. His fingers drift along the notches of your spine, and you suddenly see his normally furrowed face become more displeased. You hum and raise your eyebrows, curiously egging him on to speak up. He stares displeased for a moment longer before actually saying something. His hand moves upward to brush along your shoulder.
“Thou is in pain.”
You sleepily hum at him again. Movement does make you wince, but you do a good job at hiding it from him.
“Only sore.”
Morgott huffs. You attempt to shrug it off but he sees through it, not that you mind either way. Perhaps he couldn’t see your teasing or you innuendos, but he could quite easily catch you in a lie.
“It will keep you on my mind all day, I know that.”
You smile a bit coy and bite your lip, and he huffs. His drooping eyes resist the urge to roll at your crassness.
“Filth. Thy brain is festered with nothing but filth.”
His disappointment in you makes you laugh, and there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you warm.
Curse or not, you love him. Every moment only makes it grow. No one has cared about you so diligently, and so kindly. And despite his lamentations, you wouldn’t deny that his physical appearance while technically a curse, does appeal to you greatly. Morgott has given everything and asked for nothing in return.
No normal man could keep you so warm and safe. Make you feel so small and delicate, and push your senses to the absolute limit. This is new to him, all of this — so you dampen your feelings a bit. Morgott tends to take your teasing as lying or manipulation, and so you try to be calmer about it.
“Thou should cease with this. Tis cruel to taunt one with what they cannot have.”
He'd said it to you when you were fawning over a book, of it's romance. You'd been looking at him trying to make a point, but instead he’d taken it as teasing. If only he knew how much your heart had been racing, trying to see if he would catch that you wanted to go on a moonlit stroll with him.
There had been other things in that book that had enthralled you, but you neglected to tell those. Of an evening walk, a flower field, a balcony. Perhaps one day.
Your hands grasp at him, trying to pull yourself closer. You attempt to push into him, wiggling to get comfortable in the crook of his side and arm. Morgott looks towards the door for a moment, feeling you press your cheek against him.
He should get up; men need orders, things need doing.
But he's given everything for this kingdom, and they've given him nothing in return. He never asked for a thing, and they couldn't even bestow upon him kindness. Only you could.
Morgott shifts so there's less pressure off the base of his tail, and puts his other hand into you as well. You lean into it, and wrap your own hand around some of his fingers. Morgott wipes his mind of any duty, and falls back asleep.
i want victor gideon to put me in a mating press and fuck me so hard that my last remaining braincell is worried he'll break my bones 🤪
brain is thinking..
imagine victor gideon going into one of his 'mating season' because of his mutation.
you were on a lazy day, didn't shower and in your old clothes, the second he walked in the door- he stopped dead in his tracks. your scent.
he flickered his tongue out, and grunted.
oh it was so, so musky, and it smelled uniquely you.
before you could mutter a 'hi, how was your day?', he was on you, victor gideon pressing his snake-like tongue against your neck, as if tasting every single molecule on your aroma, it was heady and his hands just traced under your shirt, putting pressure against your body, like a serpent locking against you.
"oh.. you smell divine.." he rasped, kissing up your neck until he got to your mouth, slotting his mouth against yours like a key finding it's home.
it wasn't long until you were naked, his hands pushing your legs until your knees on either side of your head. he moaned as the scent of your slick your fragance wafting through the air. he was also naked, his thick cock inches away from your cunt, it was twitching, as if the blood rushed over there, though it was still cold, due to his cold-blooded nature.
"ngh.. its so warm." he grunted as his tip pressed against your entrance. you gulped, shaking your head. "no? c'mon.. you can do it, little mouse" he maniacally laughed and pushed in, the sudden fullness made you squeak.
he spent a moment just feeling your walls tighten, humming and tilting his head, enjoying the silence.
then? he began thrusting, hard.
slap! slap! slap! SLAP! SLAP!
clapping sounds began sounding through the room, each one going more rough.
"NGh! you can do it!" he growled, watching your dishveled appearance, how drool came out of the corner of your mouth, his hand going to push his fingers in, while he leaned in, pushing his torso against yours.
"yes.. yes, that's it, look at me" he chuckled, thrusting wildly.
In, out, in, out.
your mind was drooling but the pressure of his huge body against you made you... aroused? overstimulated? you couldn't think, his thrust was momentum, if his hand wasn't in your mouth you'd be getting pushed against the headboard.
his thrusts became erratic, more force, more everthing, his other hand began pressing against your clit, massaging it with intent.
"you can do it, my pretty little mouse, you can cum. yes?" he cooed, and moved your head to nod with his hand "yes.. you can do it."
his thrusts were faster, and you came, feeling your legs try to stretch and your walls clamping against him.
he didn't stop, a few more thrusts and he pushed his torso against you, cumming copious amounts of cum against your womb. he gave you a second to breathe.
then he chuckled, thrusting again.
"it's mating season, love, you're not going anywhere.."
turnnoffyourmind
dailybridgerton
baratheonpilled
jacobvanloon
snowghoul
areudirty
