Monthly Story - male minotaur x male reader (nsfw) (Patreon)

This month's exclusive features a huge minotaur with submissive tendencies, and a male reader who's happy to give him what he needs... Throw in a few of the very finest tropes - fake dating, there was only one bed, and some heavy mutual pining - and we've got nearly 4k words of fluff and smut for you. 

Some mentions of slightly animalistic language used in reference to our mino boy - the word 'bull' is used, and I don't know if that would bother anyone, so I thought I'd just mention it anyway. 

Hope you enjoy, and that you're looking forward to the CYOA continuing tomorrow with Gabriel and our female reader. 

Magnus’ enormous hooves caught up with you as you strode down the pavement towards work, sorely un-caffeinated and still a little groggy despite your shower. Mornings were not your thing on the whole. 

He called your name, sounding slightly breathless as he drew level with you, and you halted abruptly as a huge mug of takeaway coffee was dangled in front of your face along with a rather enticing smelling brown-paper bag. 

“No.”

His ears waggled. “You don't even know what I was going to say!” he protested, licking his right nostril nervously with his thick, pink tongue - an old habit that you’d long ago noticed. You knew all his little ticks, from the way his tail swished when he was agitated, to the way his left ear drooped a little more than the right when he was feeling low… you knew him better than you knew anyone. He was your best friend, and your flatmate, but your heart ached at what he was not to you. 

“When you present food to me, it’s because you’re making up for something, or you want a favour. You haven’t done anything lately that I’m aware of that needs an apology, so it must be a favour, and I’m not interested.”

That wasn’t strictly true, and you knew it. 

You’d do anything for the enormous black-furred fluff ball, who looked intimidating as all fuck but in fact was nothing less than a gigantic pushover. 

He, however, appeared to miss that fact, and gave a deep, sonorous low of distress and his ears went back, left drooping markedly. “Please? I’m… I’m in a bind…” 

Now if that didn’t give you ideas you didn’t want at 8am on a Monday morning… Forcing images of him tied up beneath you out of the way before you gave yourself away, you fixed him with as steely a stare as you could manage. 

Magnus swallowed. “So… I… I’m going to my cousin’s wedding…” 

“Mmm,” you hummed. You knew all about that already. 

“Yeah, and… I… I may have said I was bringing my boyfriend… just to get my mother to shut up about pairing me off with someone at the wedding…”

You blinked. “But you don't have a boyfriend at the moment…” 

You’d done your fair share of picking up after him whenever he made another monumentally reckless choice in partners - male and female - and you’d almost lost count of the number of times he’d got his heart broken by someone who just wanted a quick no-strings fuck with a huge minotaur. Or by someone who’d snickered at him if he’d felt brave enough to admit that he preferred to bottom over topping. Gods, the things you would do with him if he’d let you, but each time you’d offered him comfort in the form of a hug, he’d always been the first to break it, the first to walk away. Over the years, you’d come to the conclusion that he wasn’t into humans. He’d never dated one to your knowledge either. 

“I… I know… but that’s kind of not the worst bit.”

“Oh dear gods, what did you say?” you asked, snatching the dangling coffee from his hand and drawing deeply on it. It was exactly your favourite blend, and the perfect temperature, and you rolled your eyes a little bit as you swallowed it down. 

“Imighthavesaidyouweremyboyfriend.” 

You blinked. “I’m sorry what?” you said, grateful for having just swallowed the coffee, otherwise you would have done a spit take. 

Magnus whined and huffed through his wide nostrils, looking thoroughly miserable. 

“Keep walking,” you said, glancing at the time on your watch. “I’ve got a meeting, but seriously, did I hear you right? You said I was your boyfriend? Whyever the fuck?”

It must have come out a little harsher than you’d intended, because he made another miserable lowing noise. “I talk about you all the time, and when I said I had a boyfriend, mum was the one who said your name. I just… didn’t correct her. I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll phone her later after work and put her right. It’s not fair of me, but… I thought I should tell you anyway…”

“I’ll do it.”

Magnus crashed to a halt and gawped at you. From his seven foot height, he should have looked intimidating, but he just looked winded and surprised to you, and you chuckled. Heavens help you — and this really was a catastrophically bad idea — but you were going to do it. 

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say…” Magnus mumbled. “Are you serious?”

You nodded. “We can talk about it tonight if you want to. When is the wedding again?”

“Two weeks on Saturday.”

And so, two weeks on Saturday, you arrived at the fancy country hotel with Magnus, wearing a rented tux and feeling pretty good about it, despite the anxiety roiling in your stomach. Magnus looked incredible, with his horns adorned with wide gold cuffs and his pierced ears sporting thick gold rings at the end that made you want to tug on them, and made you think about nose-rings in a way you really shouldn’t. He wasn’t your fiancé. He wasn’t anyone’s fiancé, and only engaged bulls wore rings in their noses. 

Fuck, he wasn’t even your real boyfriend. This was all fake. A farce to get his family to back off. 

“You ok?” Magnus said, resting his hand on the small of your back. Like a lot of minotaurs, he had only two fingers - thick and knuckly - and one thumb, his hands cloven in the same way his hooves were, and like almost every other bit about him (that you’d seen anyway) his hands were huge. 

Forcing yourself not to lean back too much into his steadying touch, you nodded. 

A moment later, a shaggy, white-haired minotaur hurried over to the pair of you and beamed at you. She was tiny for a mino, almost the same height as you, though you weren’t the shortest human ever to have existed. “Magnus, darling!” she smiled, gripping her son’s hand in hers and then, to your surprise, reaching for yours as well. “I’m so happy. I’m… oh I’m so happy.”

“Relax, mum,” Magnus snorted, hugging her and burying his nose affectionately in the thick mane of fluffy, white fur adorning her head. “It’s not as if it’s my wedding!”

“No,” she said, pulling back, only to find that Magnus’ horn had tangled in the flower crown she had laced through her hair. “Oh, you’re a menace!” she exclaimed the moment the pair of them realised. 

“Here,” you chuckled, reaching up and disentangling his horn for him. He shivered visibly as your fingers touched his horn, though you hadn’t realised minotaurs had sensation there. Apparently so. “All fixed, Mrs. Blackhorn.”

“Marissa, please,” she said. “And I still find ‘Blackhorn’ funny,” she added. “Even though I’ve been married to Magnus’ father for thirty years.” 

You grinned, eyeing the ivory white of her long, gently sloping horns and nodded. 

“Come in and get a drink while everyone’s mingling. I thing your father is around somewhere, Magnus, darling.”

He nodded mutely and then glanced down at you while his mother bustled off. “Sorry about that,” he muttered. “She’s kind of full-on at things like this.”

“She’s lovely,” you said reassuringly. “I love your mum. You know that. Shall we?” 

Magnus suddenly looked grim, setting his jaw, and striding off into the crowd mingling on the terrace. 

“Hey,” you called, hurrying after him and, on a whim, sliding your hand into his. He froze at that, and looked sharply down at the point where the two of you touched. His hand began to tremble and you squeezed. Fearful that you’d overstepped and made him uncomfortable, you grimaced and added bravely, “Got to sell it, haven't we?”

His dark brown eyes shone glassy for a moment, but he blinked his incredibly long lashes a few times and nodded. “Right,” he croaked. “I need a drink,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Come on.”

The ceremony was beautiful, and his cousin looked stunning as she stood at the altar while the centaur priest presided over the proceedings. The whole time you sat beside Magnus, however, he seemed tense. His whole body was rigid as he sat there in his gorgeously-tailored suit, his massive, barrel chest rising and falling steadily as though trying to keep himself calm, his hands in his lap or gripping his thighs. 

Eventually you stopped looking at him and figured he was regretting the whole charade. 

The meal afterwards was beautiful and again, you were seated beside him, but he hardly ate. His mother kept shooting the two of you looks across the table, and finally you laid your palm on his hand beside you and murmured, “What’s wrong?”

Magnus had the most beautiful brown eyes you’d ever seen, and he looked so sad in that moment that your chest actually hurt. 

“Hey…”

“It’s fine,” he growled, and shrugged you off. 

You lost your appetite after that. 

When the dancing began, you stood beside him and watched as his cousin shared her first dance. As the floor opened up afterwards, a quiet voice behind you made you jump, and you both turned to see his mother standing there. “You two should dance,” she said, and without giving either of you the chance to back out or refuse, she nudged you out onto the floor. 

“I’m sorry,” Manges muttered as he picked up your hands miserably in his. 

“Don’t be,” you smiled, taking the lead and watching as his jaw softened and his lips parted. “Relax. It’s like dancing with a monolith.”

“Sorry,” he said again, but he did relax a little bit. 

For the first half of the song, neither of you moved much, but after a while, you felt his grip loosen a little on your hands and he slid one from your grip to rest on your waist. When you looked up at him and smiled, he swallowed thickly, ears pinned back tight to his head. 

“What’s on your mind…?” you asked. 

“You,” he rasped. “And how stupid this whole thing was…”

Well, if that wasn’t a metaphorical bucked of ice water to dampen the evening. 

“Oh. If it’s any consolation, I’ve had a great time…” you ventured, but he didn’t perk up. He did rest his chin on the top of your head as you finished the song off, breathing quietly into your hair while you moved in silence.

You could have stayed there like that forever, revelling in this physical closeness, but his cousin came over in a rush of white wedding taffeta and playfully demanded a dance from him, and you took the opportunity to slip away in a bit of a daze. 

His mother intercepted you as you made to leave the hall, catching your elbow and looking intently at you. In turn, you looked up at her with anxiety fizzling away inside you. Was she about to call you out on your charade? 

“Can I have a word?” she asked. 

Trying not to broadcast your dread, you nodded and she steered you gently outside into the corridor. Catering staff were clearing away the remnants of dinner still, and one or two guests came and went, but your entire focus was on Marissa. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to say how happy I am that Magnus has you,” she said and guilt boiled in your gut. “You’re clearly very fond of each other, and… I know my boy. I can’t help but notice the way he looks at you.”

All the years of pining and longing built up inside you and threatened to spill over, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself tearing up. Your face buckled a little and you looked away. “He means a lot to me,” you managed to croak. 

She brought her hand to your jaw, the skin rough and leathery, and she thumbed your cheek gently. “Tell him,” she said. 

You nodded and excused yourself, heading up to your room for the first time since arriving. 

Of course, since Magnus had told them that the two of you were an item, there was only one bed. It was laughable. Luckily there was a chaise-longue nearby that you could crash on. It was a gorgeous room, and it even had a balcony overlooking the grounds at the back of the hotel. 

You’d known Magnus came from money, but to provide rooms like this for the number of close relatives attending had to have cost a small fortune. 

You sloughed off your tux jacket and slung it over the back of the chaise-longue before opening the doors to the balcony and stepping out into the cool night. Resting your forearms on the railing, you didn’t hear Magnus enter the room, his hoofbeats muffled by the carpet, and you startled when he stepped out behind you. 

“You ok?” he asked, voice deep and rough. “You left kind of suddenly…”

“Mmm,” you hummed, half-looking back over your shoulder at him. 

“What did my mother want with you?” he asked quietly, black ears waggling, the gold in them glinting. “Did she say something…?”

You shook your head. “No… Well, she did, but that’s not what’s bothering me.”

“What’s up then?” he asked. 

You wanted him so much it ached. 

He was right there, huge and hulking behind you, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. You shook your head, not trusting your voice but still trying anyway. “I think… I think you were right when you said this was a mistake. I can’t pretend, Mag. It hurts too much.”

His huge hand landed gently between your shoulders and you let out a harsh exhale, head bowing low. In a painfully quiet whisper, he spoke your name and you turned to find his eyes glassy and his tail swishing from side to side. “Dancing with you tonight…” he began but you interrupted him with a growl. 

“Don’t remind me. It was as painful for me as it was for you, but for different reasons I imagine…”

At that, Magnus’ expression turned hurt and angry. His deep voice took on a dull, tarnished quality as he spoke. “You’re right. It was painful. All I wanted all evening was to kiss you, but I know you don’t see me that way. I’m sorry I inflicted all this on you.” He turned to go and you stood there, stunned, heart racing and hardly daring to believe… “I’ll go downstairs and book another room. You can have this one.”

“Mag, wait!” you barked as he stalked towards the door. “Stop! Fuck… please… wait…”

Mercifully, he did stop, but he didn’t turn around. 

You moved across the room to him and pressed your hand to the small of his back, just above the waistband of his trousers. Through the tailored hole in the back, his tail twitched. He was barely breathing. 

“Mags…” you murmured and he shivered. 

Setting his enormous, dark hooves a little wider as if to brace himself, he turned his great head to look at you. As his left horn swung slowly over your head, you reached up for it and trailed your fingertips down it, over the gold bands, until you reached the root of the horn and he let out another rough breath. “Kiss me.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, but then he turned and cautiously took hold of your hips in his strange, beautiful hands. Then he gripped you more tightly and you felt all the blood rushing south. His tongue was rough against your lips, his touch hesitant, but the moment you reached up and grabbed his horns to pull him down into the kiss he went slack and let you take charge. 

It was then that you remembered him mentioning the fact that people backed off when they learned he liked to bottom, that he had submissive tendencies, despite his intimidating appearance. 

“Magnus?” you asked, breathing heavily as you drew back for a moment. “Tell me you want this?”

“I want you,” he said carefully. He blinked slowly, sadly, and stepped back. “However… However you want me…”

You eyed the conspicuous tent in his trousers and smiled. “Shirt off,” you said and he twitched, his breath leaving him in a series of rapid, hoarse, rough exhales. 

His thick fingers fumbled the buttons and you smiled and lightly smacked his hands away. His arms fell to hang loosely by his sides, his jaw slack, his breathing quick, his eyes shining. He whispered your name and you looked up at him without pausing to undo his buttons. 

“Do you want this?” he asked. 

In answer, you took his shirt off and spread your hand through the thick, black pelt that covered his chest. As your fingertip grazed his nipple, he grunted and you pinched it. “Yes. I’ve wanted you for years, Magnus. I just thought you didn’t want me. I’ve never known you to date a human…” 

“Because they weren’t you,” he huffed shyly, adding a soft ‘oh’ of surprise as you began to undo his trousers too. 

You palmed his impressive erection through the fabric and he lowed deep in his throat. “Oh fuck,” he hissed, cock twitching beneath your hand. 

“Lie down,” you said, eyeing the bed. 

Mere seconds later, you had Magnus naked and lying on his back in the middle of the bed, his huge cock leaking pre-come onto his stomach, his hands lying wrist-up on the sheets, and his hooves dangling off the end of the bed. 

As you began to undress yourself, his hand moved to touch his cock, but you frowned. “Don’t,” you said, and he immediately went still, though his chest still heaved. 

“Fuck…” he said. “Fuck, you’re going to let me… You’re going…”

“I’m going to fuck you, Magnus,” you said, knowing what he wanted from you. “The way I’ve dreamed about doing for years. You’re going to spread your legs for me and let me fuck you hard.” 

His dark eyes flickered to the bag he’d dumped by the door. “I… I’ve got, I mean, I keep some… some lube in my washbag… If… If you… fuck… I can’t even think straight…” he laughed and you smirked back at him, loving the reaction you’d elicited in him. 

With the small bottle found, you returned to him. “You didn’t touch yourself, did you?” He shook his head, jaw slack. “Good.”

At the praise, he keened and tipped his head back into the pillows, spine slowly arching, hips lifting so that his cock bounced and drooled pre-come all over himself. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, ignoring the way your own cock demanded attention. You could wait a little longer. Again, Magnus preened under the gentle praise, and the sound of his moans went straight to your groin. 

Before you coated your hands in lube, you set the bottle down on the sheets beside him and reached for his hock, just above the hoof. The joint was surprisingly delicate, and he groaned when you closed your fingers around it, leg kicking softly. Trailing your hands up his magnificent body, you dug your fingers into the muscle of his quad and he yelled, cock weeping freely. 

“Look at you,” you crooned. 

“Please…” he whispered. 

“Please what?”

“I… I need to come… I want…”

“Wait.”

He clenched his jaw and nodded. “I can wait. I can wait, I promise. I’ll wait,” he babbled and you rewarded him by taking the leaf-like shape of his ear between finger and thumb and caressing the unbelievably soft fur there between his golden earrings. He juddered and shook wildly, nose jutting upwards, glistening as his huge chest heaved and his hands fisted the sheets to a tangle beneath him. 

Naturally, you did it again with the other ear and he let out another broken cry. 

“Please, I need you…” he said, eyes rolling to reveal the whites. He would be frothing at the mouth soon. His cock was flushed painfully hard and you weren’t sure you were going to last much longer tonight anyway. There would be time to play more together, and the thought brought a wry smile to your face. He caught the look and moaned plaintively again. 

Hands slick with lube, you knelt between his legs. It was going to take two hands to work the full length of his cock properly, so you took him in both and slid them as one up the length of him. 

Magnus bellowed again and began to shake, snorting. 

“Such a beautiful bull,” you said and he whined and writhed in pleasure at your choice of words. “Look at you… So worked up, and so soon…”

“Please!” he yelped as you circled the darkly-flushed head of his cock with your hand and another load of pearlescent pre-come slid out to coat your fingers. 

The moment your fingers entered him and crooked inside him, he arched wildly, panting and blowing. He was tight, but his body-size relative to you meant that he wouldn’t need much prepping.  “There… There, like that…” he hissed, the huge bull trembling beneath your touch. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m… I’m gonna…”

“No you’re not,” you growled, pressing harder. “Not til I do.”

“Please…” he whimpered, quivering all over and practically sobbing, chanting your name over and over. “Please…”

With a smile, you slicked your own cock and finally pushed inside him. The first stroke took you all the way to the hilt and Magnus’ fracturing self-control shattered instantly. He came hard, cock untouched, bellowing, covering himself in ropes of come and clenching around you so tightly that he ripped your orgasm from you even as you continued to fuck into him, chasing your release. 

“Oh fuck, Magnus,” you gasped as you tipped over the edge after him. 

The minotaur slumped back onto the bed behind him, chest heaving, legs twitching, cock still drooling release everywhere. His eyes were closed but despite being so winded, he looked truly relaxed for the first time all evening. With a fond, slightly dazed smile yourself, you withdrew and half-fell, half-lay down beside him. 

“You ok?” you asked, laying your head on his shoulder. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, voice deep and rumbling in your ear. 

He hooked his arm around your shoulders. “‘M gonna need a shower…” he slurred, eyes still closed. “Maybe you’ll let me return the favour…”

You snorted. “I came, in case you didn’t notice.”

“I noticed,” he laughed, shifting his hips slightly. “I’m just looking for an excuse to put my mouth on you.”

At the image of him kneeling in the shower, taking you in his mouth, you felt your cock stir with interest despite the fact that you were still reeling from your first orgasm. “Gimme a bit,” you said. 

“Mmm. Not going anywhere,” he rumbled, thumb tracing idle circles over your shoulder. “That was even better than anything I’ve ever imagined with you…” he admitted in a quiet, almost bashful voice. 

He really was a mess, you noted as you glanced down at his chest, his fur ruined with his release. His cock was softening, but he still looked like he could go another round. 

“Me to,” you murmured. There wasn’t a chance you were going anywhere any time soon, and certainly nowhere that didn’t involve Magnus with his mouth around your cock. 

___

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