#but the corner ones are ��👌 poses

[befuddled-calico-whump]

uhhh here, have some whump references

(more below the cut)

big thanks to the guy I keep in my basement 🥰 /j it's me

[fanaticsnail]

Three, Two, One: Part 1 of 3

Hello beautiful people! I have decided to turn this part one-shot into a two-part series - SPECIFICALLY because I wanted it to be happy and playful, but it is leaning into a super HARD angst and I didn't want to spoil the playful vibe 👌

Word Count: 3,928

Warnings: mentions of tobacco, nicotine and addiction.

Song accompaniment: Know You Girls, Honey, Boy Toy

Fic Request Prompt by: @terarria-sunflower. Masterlist Here.

“Three, two, one,” you glanced down at your rotund, egg-shaped ticking timer as it began to shake as soon as the final number fled softly from your lips. A small smirk pulled at the corner of your mouth as you gazed at the blonde chef as he placed the relinquished cigarette butt within his ashtray; closing the metal lid to keep the cinders away from tainting the blue ocean with its waste.

“Down to the last second,” you muttered again to yourself, shaking your head while opening your journal and jotting down a new number within the pages. You flipped the yellow ribbon back within the page and shut your book; the several ribbons swaying at the bottom of the journal as you wrapped it around in its bound leather strap to place back atop the table.

As ship’s chronicler, you were tasked with notetaking and scribing the comings and goings aboard the Going Merry; a task which you undertook with complete precision and gusto. You had everything down to a fine craft; from documenting strategic battle maneuvers, to how many engagements in combat Zoro completed before his blades needed repair, down to exactly when the ship would need to pull in to resupply the kitchen with fresh ingredients, and the vessel with fresh medical supplies.

Your attention was being currently drawn to cataloguing the kitchen, searching through the prior menus Sanji had completed to determine which items took priority to resupply. As the kitchen was the blonde chef’s domain, you were spending far more time with him currently than the other members of the crew. You adored how passionate he was about food, and reveled in his eagerness to offer flirtations with you. Originally, you paid his flirtations very little mind; drawing conclusions that his words and gestures was built into his character as his occupation moulded him.

However, as his flirtations became more bold with his subtle smirks and playful words directed towards you; you decided it would be amusing to return his gestures, primarily out of boredom in your travels. Immediately, you found entertainment with how flustered you could make him, how his eyes would twinkle widely and his chin would fall to the ground to have his face shrouded by his blonde hair to shield the rising blush from your view.

Gentle touches of his hands brushing against yours as you passed him your journal to look over your kitchen restock notes, leaning yourself towards him over the kitchen benchtop with a playful bite of your lip while you asked him a mundane question, sitting in silence as he lit a cigarette and gawked at you while you read over your notes; crossing your right leg over your left and absent mindedly brushing your toes against his outer thighs with a light smirk.

It was truly a joy to see him flustered. He knew all of the right words and actions to pose towards others in playful advance, but never quite knew how to process the same unbridled gestures when they were reflected back onto him.

As Sanji walked his away from the wooden frame of the Going Merry’s kitchen bay-window, he turned towards you and smiled his beautiful, cuspid smile as you. Your heart began to swell at his attention, prompting you to look up at him half-lidded and cock your head to the side.

“What are you doing in here, beautiful?” he asked, continuing his approach.

“Oh, just cataloguing in the log book while enjoying the view,” you taunted him back with your playfulness, shamelessly raking your eyes over his torso, down his legs and back up to meet his gaze; “the ocean outside the window is nice to look at, too.”

He paused his movement, a small flustered panic behind his eyes before his smile spread further to his face, “You like what you see, then?” He gestured his hand over his body and arched his eyebrow upwards in question. He was wearing his blue and white-striped shirt with his black tie clasped firmly around his neck; sleeves fastened down at his wrists, secured by black buttoned cuff-links.

Your smirk drew into a broad smile as he continued to step closer to you, you confirming: “yes, chef.”

He allowed a large laugh to escape his parted lips, shaking his head at your brazen sanction.

“You hungry?” he asked once his laughter teetered off.

“Barely,” you shrugged, rising to your feet from your place sitting above deck, “but if it means spending more time with you, I’ll accompany you here the kitchen and aid your preparation for-,” you paused, reopening your journal and skimming it’s pages before locating the correct passage; “-Luffy’s second afternoon tea before dinner?”

He again chuckled at you, beginning to roll up his sleeves by unbuttoning his cuffs; “alright then, come and help me. Keep me company.”

You smiled again at him before reaching down towards the table and retrieving your egg-shaped timer from atop the wooden surface and holding it firmly within your hands. Sanji furrowed his brows, looking at the timer in your hands; “what’s with the timer?”

“Oh,” you shrugged, patting him on the shoulder as you moved past him, “nothing that should concern you.” He cocked his head up at the comment, intrigued by your nonchalant comment. You placed the object back down beside your journal, fixed to remain in its non-ticking nor shaking state for the interim as you readied yourself to begin aiding Sanji with the formulation of the meals.

“Okay then, let’s get started,” he began after rinsing his hands thoroughly, turning to his work station and bringing out several ingredients to ready preparation for Luffy’s snack; a two course meal with several sweet and savoury elements that were not too difficult to execute. You began to lather your hands with soap to wash them before you made your way to aid Sanji with food preparation.

While your back was turned and your egg timer and journal were left unattended; Sanji felt he had no choice but to peruse through the pages, finding your latest entry with the yellow ribbon: the colour he knew represented his entries for your chronicler-duties. Your journal was by no means taboo nor out of bounds for any members of the crew, but as Sanji searched through the pages; he was secretly hoping to find some semblance of minor infatuation towards him.

You both flirted with each other incessantly and constantly aboard the ship, and while travelling from port to port. Sanji couldn’t help but to be wooed by your words and actions, hoping that what began as entertainment from boredom grew as much for you as it did for him; hopefully fanning the flames of a small crush on your crewman into potentially developing into a deeper relationship.

You placed an apron over your head and secured the strap around your waist to stop any food items from falling to your clothes accidentally as he watched you over his shoulder; before hunching back over to find anything of the romantic nature between the pages.

He skimmed over his routine, noting several lines of ingredients he neglected to inform you in need of resupply already added to the journal. He sighed, contented and relieved to see you were effortlessly able to pick up on his subtle substitutions he used to cover the need for the missing ones; grinning at the knowledge of how attuned you were to his actions and efforts as chef aboard the vessel. In his daily schedule, he noticed several small crosses flurrying throughout his comings and goings; numbers written next to each cross.

He furrowed his brows and continued skimming over the pages, passing now onto the green-ribbon section: Zoro’s routine, noting his schedule had no crosses nor numbers. He deepened his frown and looked to the orange, red and blue ribbons for Nami, Luffy and Usopp’s schedules and noticed no crosses on their schedules either. Was this the answer he was looking for? He needed to know, and he needed to know, now.

“Hey, love?” Sanji spoke up, alerting you of his attention. You creased your brows at him, noting he had opened your log-journal and was reading his pages; “what are all these marks?”

Wiping your hands on a hanging blue and white kitchen towel, you turned to approach him; leaning your elbow on his shoulder as he turned his body into you, keeping his sights held to the pages of his schedule. You tilted your head towards your notation and narrowed your eyes before turning away from the pages to look at the blonde chef to your side.

“Those are your cigarette breaks, Sanji,” you smiled at him, reaching up to move his blonde hair away from shielding his eyes from you, “I’ve timed them.”

You turned away from him towards the kitchen counter and began sorting through the stock and comprising them into an order of need: items that needed to be cooked and items that only required assembly.

Sanji turned his eyes back to the page and creased his brows at the notes, looking over and acknowledging truly how many times he sought out the nicotine hit within his day to day activities. Although he didn’t manage to secure what he was hoping for, he remained perplexed by the sheer number and time throughout the day he received his dose of nicotine; almost angry at himself for the total amount.

“I have that many?” he asked, rethreading the ribbon back into the pages and putting the journal back atop the counter next to the egg timer.

“That you do, chef,” you nodded, continuing to sort out the piles of ingredients and readying a knife to begin peeling. Sanji hummed, looking over at you as you began peeling fruit with the edge of your knife. He emptied his pockets, placing his tobacco pouch, ash tray and lighter next to your journal before equipping himself with an apron to join next to you.

You both continued to prepare Luffy’s second afternoon snack together, laughing at something one another said and flirtatiously advancing each other with nothing more than a gentle graze of a shoulder or a brush of a fingertip as you continued working with one another. Once you had completed the task, Sanji removed his apron and began reaching toward his tobacco pouch and ash tray. A sly and mischievous look fell over your features.

“Can I ask you a question, chef?” you asked in a slight hint of mischief in your tone, prompting him to halt his retrieval of the pouch for a moment. You removed your apron and hooked it over a brass kitchen rail.

“Anything for you, love,” he smirked at you, turning around to face you and scrunching up his nose playfully. You tilted your head, walking closer to him and gazing up into his eyes.

“What is it about cigarettes that have such a hold over you?” you asked him curiously, “obviously it is the nicotine addiction, but is there more to it than just that?”

Sanji broke his sights away from you and looked off to the ceiling in thought with a small hum.

“You know,” he began with a nod, turning his eyes back down to meet your gaze, “I hadn’t given it much thought until now, truthfully. Maybe the rush? Taking a moment to myself? Could just be the chemical endorphins or the adrenaline, really.”

You nodded and downturned your lips in thought with a shrug. Sanji smirked at you, half-lidding his eyes mischievously before asking; “Why? You got a theory?”

“Frankly, I think it’s primarily about the nicotine,” you nodded, a wince of a smile falling to your face, “you should really think about breaking the habit, it’ll shorten your life and ruin your palate in the long run.”

You flicked your index finger over his chin playfully, a flirtatious grin rising again to your lips; “gotta keep that talented tongue in peak shape for when we get to the All-Blue. Can’t have everything tasting like ash now, can we?”

A small pink hue rose to his cheeks as you allowed a small giggle to escape your lips. You turned away from him to collect your journal, revelling at how flustered you made the flirtatious chef.

“You make a fine point, beautiful,” he broke his face back into a smile, “how do you suggest I get my fix? Save my palate,” he added with a small chuckle.  

You halted your step and quirked your head to the side before turning back to face him again.

“Let’s look at natural remedies,” you pondered, looking upwards at the ceiling, a list forming in your mind; “for adrenaline, why not spar with Zoro? He’d likely appreciate the amount of practice he could get in.”

Sanji hummed, stepping his body closer to you, “doesn’t really serve the endorphin release now, does it, love?”

You giggled in response, again looking towards the chef in thought, “you could go for a quick dip in the ocean? Breath control and adrenaline with that one.”

“And strip off my clothes multiple times a day?” he shook his head with a large grin forming, “I hardly see that as a helpful alternative. Again, it misses the endorphin release and doesn’t meet the accessibility criteria.”

You furrowed your brows and pursed your lips in thought. He chuckled again, turning back to face the table to retrieve his tobacco pouch and lighter, beginning to assemble a cigarette; rolling the tobacco within wafer-thin paper and adding a thin filter port to the end of it. He leant against the table, hips aligning with the height as he reclined back into it. As he brought the filter end to his lips, a stroke of genius struck you. He rose his lighter towards his lips and made to cradle the flame to ignite the end, halting at your next words.

“Kiss me,” you uttered softly with your head swaying as you held a small shyness to your voice, a tone Sanji almost missed. His eyes widened, mouth falling slightly ajar as his cigarette clung to his bottom lip.

“What was that-?” he asked in an utterance slightly more elevated than your own. You looked up at him with a small playful grin as you took your bottom lip once again within your teeth to bite it.

“Breath control,” you said more confidently, beginning to step closer towards him, “adrenaline release,” you raked your eyes over his body before settling on holding his eyes firm to you, “endorphin rush? I’d say a simple kiss would meet the criteria.”

His breath hitched within his throat at the suggestion, prompting him to reach up and remove the cigarette from between his lips and place it on the table behind him.

“You’re saying I can kiss you-,” he confirmed with a small hint of both delight and apprehension, “-for as long as I want?”

You giggled, reaching past him to retrieve your egg timer, “I’ll allow you to kiss me for as long as you need to.”

Sanji quirked his head at your actions, widening his eyes at the egg timer in your hands before a small chuckle fell from his lips. You stepped within his personal proximity after searching his eyes for any apprehension to do so. Meeting none, you settled comfortably in the space between his legs as he remained reclined against the table.

“And judging from your routine: with your mornings, you take about two minutes per cigarette,” you nod your head, rolling the timer within your hands, “your afternoon ones are down to a solid three and a half to four,” he nodded, taking your wrists within his hands and looking down still at the timer, “your before dinner cigarette is about one and a half, because you’re desperate at that stage,” he snickered at your comment, you giggling again in tow.

“And my after dinner one?” he asked you in a breathy, almost frantic voice, “surely I take my time with that one-.”

“-The after dinner one, you usually take around three,” you cut him off with a small giggle, “but your before bed one,” you nudged your nose under his chin to bring his gaze up to meet you once more, “that’s where you take your time with a solid five,” you whispered suggestively close to his jaw.

A small whined-groan escaped from him as he began to chase your face to seek to capture your lips in a kiss, meeting only the tips of your fingers pressed against his lips in response. He furrowed his brows and flittered his eyes down towards your hand and back to gazing intensely into your eyes.

“Hold on, big boy,” you warned him, scrunching up your nose playfully, “I have to set the timer first, or it’s all for naught.”

He nudged your hand away with his chin and a small growl escaping his lips in displeasure at your apprehension. You chuckled at his eagerness, allowing your hand to fall onto his cheek in a gentle caress.

“Surely not for the first one,” he commented hoarsely, desperately as he began reaching down to take the timer from your hands; only to be met with your hands closing over the egg-timer and holding it firmer, “just a taste-.”

“-It’s part of the fun,” you smile at him, floating your gaze over his face; falling on his lips before rising up again to meet with his eyes, “otherwise it won’t work and you’ll be back to square one."

He hummed in response, almost in a low whine as he pressed his forehead against you and grazing his hands down your ribcage to settle against your hips; “and what do you get out of aiding me with my fix?”

“I get the knowledge,” you whisper against his jaw, grazing your lips along his skin slowly, “that I’m the one bringing the rush to you, Sanji. I’m the one making you feel good.”

“Set the timer,” he growled firmly, eyes darkening with his pupils blown out and intense with desire, “four minutes.”

“Oui, chef,” you whispered with a small giggle in anxious anticipation, pulling your lips away from his jaw and turning towards your egg timer; winding it to the appropriate duration.

“Okay Sanji, the time starts: n-,” your words are halted by his the soft but intense collision of Sanji’s lips overzealously engaging in entanglement against your own. You squealed slightly at the immediacy of his reaction, your eyes wide as you stared at his closed eyes as his brows creased in intensity with your cheeks held firmly within his hands.

You reached slowly behind him to place the timer down on the table and raked your hands over his back and slid your fingertips against his flesh and holding his hips firmly while closing your eyes. You shifted your lips against his, opening them to deepen the kiss and allow him to glide his tongue behind your entrance to dance with your tongue. You gasped as soon as the contact was made, feeling a sharp piece of metal beneath the muscle, attached firmly to his frenulum. A piercing? Sanji has a tongue piercing?

He smiled into the kiss, feeling your shock as you brushed your tongue with his. He retracted the muscle from your mouth and began to place rougher kisses, assaulting your lips while raking his fingers through your hair and cradle your head further against his own. He rotated his head to continue the deep and rough engagement, prompting a whimper-like moan to fall from your lips in response.

As he remained reclined against the table, you wavered in your mind how much more adrenaline you could spike into his bloodstream to elevate his heartbeat further. Deciding to not withhold your ministrations; you pulled yourself further against his hips and hooked your right leg over his left and guide his left hand from your hair to wrap around your thigh. A groan fell from his lips as he reclined against the table further, unbreaking the kiss from your lips as he eagerly began to support your weight against him with fervour.

He pulled his other hand from your hair as you laced your hands behind his neck to hold him further into yourself. Just as you tilted your head and made to rake your fingers into his hair while he reached down to grip the back of your other thigh to hoist you up against himself fully; the egg-timer began to rattle and shake, alerting you the duration of the kiss was to be drawn to a close.

The low groan released from Sanji’s lips followed by a whimper as you began to pull yourself away from him was as delicious as the meals he would readily present to you, filling you completely with his unbridled need being absolutely met by your body.

“Please-,” he cried his protestation and need for you softly as you made to break from his lips, “please I need more.”

You smiled while he chased you with his lips as you pulled away from him, unlacing your leg from circling his hip and pulled your arms around his shoulders. You pressed your hand to rest against his chest, feeling the rapid pace pummelling harshly at his breastbone, pushing him away with a gentle but firm touch.

“You can have more,” you cooed at him, looking down through your eyelashes to see his desperation on full display over his face; his breath unevenly falling from his mouth, “in an hour and twenty minutes, before dinner.”

“For how long, then?” He gasped, moving his hands from your hips to lace his fingertips within your own, “surely not just for one and a half minutes.”

You giggled at him, looking at the beautiful picture you had painted on the man of a canvas before you: his eyes blown out with lust and desire, his heart beating with the rapidity of an over-excited puppy anticipating its first treat, his lips bruised from the prior collision against your own.

“You are out of breath,” you nodded to him, gesturing to his lips with your chin, “you have a spike of adrenaline, gathered by how rapid your heart was beating just now,” you rubbed your thumb to circle over his own, “and hopefully the kiss gave you as much of a rush of endorphins as it did me,” you giggled with a nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

He nodded, looking down at the ground with a small smile tugging at his slightly swollen lips.

“Thank you for helping me with breaking my addiction, and,” he murmured, bringing your hands upwards to brush his lips against every digit; paying them all as much attention as the other with his lips, breaking only to utter; “for helping me restore my palate. I’m going to look forward to receiving my next hit from you.”

You felt a small rush of butterflies falling over your chest as he bore a wide grin against your knuckles.

“Okay, chef,” you said, releasing your hands from his and bringing your right hand up to caress his cheek, brushing your thumb over his lips to tenderly sooth them, “let’s go bring the captain his second afternoon tea.”

“Oui, mademoiselle,” he groaned, pressing a small and playful kiss against the pad of your thumb, prompting a small whimper to fall from your own lips this time; a smirk readily rising to his cheeks as he took the balled piercing from beneath his tongue and twirled it against his teeth absent mindedly.

Part 2

[sims4luxury]

The Nursery/Kid Collection

Hello everyone 🤗

I'm wishing you all a Happy New Year 😍🥳🥳 I hope you're all doing great at the beginning of 2023!

I'm so, so happy today to share with you the biggest collection I ever made and to show you my progress in Blender 😱

About my progress this month:

One of the biggest new skills I have now is that the bed blanket is animated!!!! 

I learned how to make a cloth simulation on a mesh, which means I created from scratch for the first time in my life the pillow, the blanket (bed cover?), and the bed canopy

As I already said, I learn how to animate the blanket, which means the bed is fully functional exactly as it should be. No more strange animation when a toddler will going to sleep in it 👌

I also learned how to create a curve, which was needed for the garland

Most of the rugs in this collection has now a thickness even if the shape is not a basic shape such as a square, rectangle, or round. I learned how to add texture details to them which gives a realistic and mellow appearance which can be great if you have a Simstagram and share cute toddler poses for example

I started learning several new other skills but the end result is too bad to be shared right now 😂

Thank you all so so much for all your support without which I simply wouldn't be able to spend as much time learning new 3d skills 🙏❤

About the collection:

The collection is composed of 25 new CC with a total of ... 291 swatches! 😱

I wanted to cover as many styles as possible with plain colors and matching patterns for you to be sure to be able to create a lot of different toddler bedrooms even if you're using the same mesh. I'm personally always frustrated when the CC is exactly the one I want to use but can't find the swatch that is matching with the other items made by another CC creator. 

Of course, I couldn't create all the textures ever possible, but for sure when an item has 38 different swatches, you'll find at least 1 of them matching your interior 😍

The color palettes I used to create this collection are mostly white, pink, orange, green, and blue with matching patterns and for some items, I created different kinds and tones of wood from light to dark.

Everything is base game and HQ compatible

Everything is functional and playtested

All items have from 1 swatch up to 38

When possible, all items have all their LODs

Except for the bed canopy (sorry), everything is low poly

They all have their custom thumbnails and are correctly tagged

Most of them can be found under "kid's furniture" or "kid's decoration"

All of them can also be found with those keywords: sims4luxury; nursery; toddler; kid

Here are all the thumbnails of the collection:

How to make the bed functional:

The bed is coming in 3 separated pieces: 

Bed frame

mattress

blanket

and ONLY THE BLANKET is actually functional. Bed frames and mattresses are only decor items with 0 interactions or animations linking to them. So you'll need to place the blanket if you want your toddler sim to be able to sleep in the bed from this collection.

You can use the blanket with any other bed frame you have, it will work the same.

I separated the bed into 3 pieces for you to choose between all the swatches and mix and match all of them the way you prefer.

About the bed canopy:

The bed canopy is a high poly mesh. I did my best and created several versions of it but the only one which didn't look too weird to be shared is the version that has 25k poly. So please be cautious! 

I created the mesh to be placed as close as possible to the walls in a corner so that the bed frame can be placed below it, not next to or in front of it and it does not create a collision with any sim.

Tips:

Because of the number of swatches a lot of the CC in this collection has, the files are large. 

If you need to save space on your computer but still want to keep this collection installed, I suggest you delete the swatches you like the least with Sims4Studio.

---------------------

Et voilà 🤗

I wish you all to enjoy this new CC collection and all the best for 2023 😍🥳

Full love to everyone of you and thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your support 🙏

Mélissa

* FREE DOWNLOAD *

[pencil-urchin]

OKAY.

PART ONE (BECAUSE THERE'S SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE):

Let's do this.

Me @ Arzel giving a goodbye kiss:

Me @ Reader calling him "love":

Me @ Thrawn gently waking Reader up and giving her corner-of-the mouth kisses (which I find extremely hot):

Me @ Thrawn responding "this is the first time you've called me 'love' and uh, super like that so please continue maybe? 🥺"

The entire exchange about studying Reader's taste by studying "The Pleasure Principle"

(on the one hand NO NOT MY KINKS but also, YES PLEASE MY KINKS)

The sincere invitation to breakfast: 🥰 (tehe adorable!)

The part where it's 6:00 A fucking M: 😑 (dafuq is wrong witchu, sleep in!)

Reader's clothing choice and intentional posing?

(said with love, not to slut-shame, because we don't do that here and we support all our whores, hoes, slits, slatterns, jezebels, )

Thrawn ignoring her working what her mama gave her?

You play a dangerous game, Sir, and we know you have a breaking point, so pretend all you like, but we're onto you.

Sitting in Thrawn's lap, telling him he's a good boy, feeding him, letting him lick your fingers while he purrs in contentment:

The "you know there are cameras" bit?

That fucking CHOKED me for a split second!

BAD THRAWN!

BAD! NAUGHTY CHISS!

YOU GET THE CHANCLA!

Now, I will say that at first, I was frustrated with Reader teasing him almost cruelly, since he can't touch her or indulge himself in his desires but she can. Then I thought about her explanation of knowing her limits but wanting to know his limits, and I realized:

homegirl wants to push him to the edge, get him to lose control, and fucking ravish her...???

I mean, huge same, absolute mood, but also: just own up to your desires girl! You're an adult, break it off with fuckface and take the Chiss Express right to Orgasm Town!

-----

Side note:

Thrawn and the sandwiches.

Bless his fucking perfect little heart. I love him. He is adorable and perfect. I'm so glad Reader saved him from eating literally any of that, I would have been horrified if he died because he was trying to do a nice thing and instead was a little bit stupid because while I support Himbo Thrawn (as he has one brain cell for managing anything outside of strategy/tactics and art), I think having him die in such am aggressively adorable and stupid way would have me coughing out a lung in laughter.

But also, what a guy, he made picnic plans and tbh his date game is 😘👌

Part Two coming soon!

The art of relaxation

Part1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24

Tags : Picnics, Bathing, innuendos, Domestical Bliss, you're not even a couple

FemaleReader x Thrawn

Nather left you and Thrawn alone to take care of some affairs, how will you spend your time together ?

You’re entangled in the covers when you feel lips pressed against your mouth. You open your eyes mid-way, in the darkness of the room you distinguish Arzel.

“Hmmmmm?” You mutters.

“I just wanted to see you before I go. Go back to sleep, my pearl.” He pulls back the covers over you and you snuggle with pleasure in the softness of your bed.

“Bye, love.” You yawn.

You sleep some more until you hear someone entering your room again. You feel lips on your cheek. You protest, hiding your face in the cover and curling over yourself. A hand puts a strand of hair behind your ear, then something nibbles your earlobe, tickling you.

“What do you want, love? Did you forget something?” You ask with a voice full of sleep.

“It is the first time you call me love. This is agreeable.” You hear a soft and melodious voice

Your eyes open wide, well awake in a second. You turn towards Thrawn in a jump, pulling the covers over you with a little cry of surprise. Seated on the edge of the bed, he looks at you with softness in the eyes.

“What are you doing here?” You demand.

“I thought I could help you to wake up.” He answers, caressing your forehead. 

You release your breath, relaxing a bit. He delicately grazes your skin with his warm hand, a thin smile floating on his face, like he was enamored by what he’s seeing. His eyes shine bright in the ambient darkness of the room. He leans over you and kisses your forehead and rises up to open your curtains. You hide your eyes, groaning. 

“Rise up, it is a marvelous day. I have some activities prepared for us.”

You groan.

“What time is it?”

“6am”

You open your eyes round like saucers, outraged.

“6am?!”

He nods, but you clearly see he doesn’t understand your indignation. He goes for exiting  your room when he notices something on your nightstand and reaches for it. You follow his gaze and gasp. You throw yourself to take it before him but he’s quicker and you almost fell off the bed in your motion.

“The Pleasure Principle?” He reads out loud while you try to pick yourself up and your dignity.

“Give that back! It’s private!” What’s with the men of your life and your secrets holos?

Instead of putting it back, he observes the unholy cover and reads the summary. You’re mortified, trying to get it back but he keeps you away with one arm.

“So this is what you occupy your evenings with?” He asks with a little grin.

“It’s not serious literature! I was bored and had nothing else to read yesterday!” You lie, extending your arm to reach it. “Give it back…” You beg.

He considers you and the book gravely.

“No.” He decides, putting it under his arm. “It is a perfect occasion to study your tastes.”

“Wha- My tastes?!” You demand.

"I never go without a battle plan.”

“My tastes aren’t a battlefield!” You flush.

“No, indeed. They are delicate things that must be carefully considered and patiently studied, for the most amazing results.”

“My tastes don't concern you anyway!” You retorts.

“Yet.”

You cross your arms on your chest.

“You are full of yourself. I have the firm intention to remain fidel, so don’t take up a challenge you can’t manage!” You reply on a cocky tone

Thrawn seizes your chin, forcing you up on your knees and pressed against his warm body. He looks you in the eyes, your lips centimeters apart…

“And you, do not make promises you can not hold…” His voice is low, full of menaces.

And full of promises.

You gulp. The room goes silent and nothing can be heard outside of your rapid breath. His gaze slides down your lips that he caresses, mind-absently, before going back to your eyes.

He kisses your forehead again. You get a whiff of his musk.

“Please, come eat with me.”

He exits your room and you collapse on your mattress, bouncing. You breathe deeply to calm down your palpitating heart. You feel thirstiness spreading in your throat and goosebump across your skin. You hide your face in your hands. You squirm on the bed, agitating your limbs like an overexcited child.

You open the dressing, full of clothes Arzel chosed for you and pick a dress. You decide to mess up with Thrawn as retaliation, you can me both to play this childish game, and choose a light, flowing, almost transparent you-should-wears-something-underneath and short dress. Decency would surely have some things to say about it, but you don’t care: You feel sexy and on fire. You comb your hair and apply a dash of perfume and leave your room.

You swing your way, perched on your heels and make an entrance on the patio, you make them resonate all the way on the cobblestone, and you strike a pose, hands on your waist. He shoots you a quick glance and gets back at the holos. No reaction. Hmm, somehow you awaited this behavior, you’ll need to be more forward. You stretch, extending your legs in an appealing angle, puffing up your chest, raising your bosoms in the process and letting a titillating contented sigh.

“It’s still early but it’s already so hot…”

“In such light clothes?” He asks unbothered, without raising his eyes from his pages.

You pout. Okay. Headstrong, you see. Alright, you like a challenge. You come to the table and bend over, taking support on your elbows, your cleavage is put forward, you slide an arm under your chest to accentuate the sexy line.

“What do you have for me?” You ask in a sultry tone.

He raises his eyebrows and stares at the table.

“There is bread, brioche, salmon, tea, caff,... Stop contorting yourself and take a seat.”

You growl.

In a way or another you’ll make him bend the knee. 

You sit and stare at him, plotting your next coup while spreading butter on your slice. 

“Do you not know it is impolite to stare at people?” He asks.

“Do you not know it is impolite to read at the table?” You retort without missing a beat.

He sighs and puts your risqué holo down.

“Here.” He designates a pot on your side of the table. “Can you pass me the jam?”

You extend your hand and an idea flashes in your mind. 

“But of course, Grand Admiral.” You respond with a sly smile.

Instead of giving him the pot in question you pull it towards you and spread the delicious jam on your slices. He looks at you in silence, raising an interrogative eyebrow at your grin.

It’s Thrawn, implied is not his forte, you have to be explicit.

You take your plate and walk around the table to him, his gaze follows you as you swing your hips and your heels clac. With a satisfied smile and looking straight into his eyes you sit on his lap, crossing your legs you lift your dress up, put the plate on your own lap and take a slice. 

“What do you think you are doing?” He demands in an assured voice.

But his throat contracts.

He’s surprised.

You wrap your arm around his shoulder and caress the back of his head.

“I’m simply accessing your request, Grand Admiral Thrawn.” You put emphasis on his title and purr his name as you replace yourself on his lap. 

You feel his leg muscles flex and contract. You snuggle against him with a grin, you approach the slice of his mouth. He frowns.

“We are not doing that.” He warns. 

You pout, making puppy eyes.

“Really?” You ask with a honey voice. “Not even to please me?”

You stare at each other's eyes, supporting the gaze of the other. Him with his hard sight, you with your dovey eyes. Finally he sighs and leans forward to take a bite. Your smile widens.

“Good boy!” You coo.

He freezes, you take advantage of his surprise and take a fistful of his hair, pulling his head backward, you whisper in his ear.

“Are you a good boy in other areas too?” You lick the tip of his ear. “I bet you are. You must have learned to obey in the military…”

You feel his hand gripping your thigh, you give it a slap.

“Ah! No touch!” You warn.

His hands go back on the armchairs, he closes them in fists. He deeply inhale.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Lieutenant Commander (Y/l/n).”

You place your mouth to his ear.

“A good thing you will not do anything then…”

“What makes you think I will keep my word?” 

 You take a shocked expression.

“Because you’re such an honest and upright man, Grand Admiral!”

You approach the slice back to his lips, and at the moment he tries to take a bite you change its course and take one yourself. You moan of an exaggerated pleasure.

“Hmmmmmmmmm… This is so good.” You gasp. “Look! There is so much sugar on my lips, if only you could take it off…” You whine.

You pass your fingers on your lips to collect the jam off your lips. You moan, licking and sucking them clean, he doesn’t lose a crumb of your little spectacle and you hear him breathing deeply through his nose. Finally some reactions…

You giggle a bit, proud of yourself, you propose to him another bite. He takes it without making a fuss, tearing the brioche apart with his pearly white teeth. You got a good look at his canines and you imagine them on your throat, biting hard. You caress his neck as he eats, putting your head on his shoulder.

“Good boy.” You repeat. “I bet you’re as good to obey as you are to give orders, Grand Admiral…”

You start hearing something. You frown. Is it… You raise your head back in surprise to observe him, he’s eating the brioche with closed eyes, savoring the flavors and… purring? 

You’re clearly hearing a purring sound. It comes from deep inside his rumbling chest and vibrates in his throat. 

“You’re my good boy.” You murmur and kiss his cheek.

The purring sound intensifies. 

So he likes praises, huh? You can roll with that.

He finishes the slice, but you have jam all over the hand now.

“Lick it clean.”

He takes your hand in his and licks it diligently, still purring. He puts each finger inside his mouth and sucks it clean with his warm wet tongue. He finishes and kisses the palm of your hand, clicking his tongue.

“(Y/n)?” He turns towards you, licking his teeth “Did I warn you there are security cameras everywhere in this mansion?”

You open your eyes wide and jump on your feet.

“What?!”

If Arzel sees that…

You hear a chuckle and look at Thrawn.

“You… Son of a bantha, I believed you!”

____________________________________________________________________

A bit later you visit the kitchen and see Thrawn busy making sandwiches. You pry and slide behind his back, determined to make him jump.

“This is useless, I know you are behind me.” His eyes don't even leave the sandwiches.

You pout. 

You press yourself against his back and blow in his neck. The hair of his nape rise and you see his throat contract.

“Are you sure?” You smile, laying your head against his back. You sigh, appreciating the warmth spreading through your cheek. You embrace him, snuggling against his tall form.

“So I can not touch you, but you are free to do whatever to me?” He asks in a conversational tone.

“I know where my limits are, I’m testing where you’re gonna put yours…”

He doesn’t answer, and lets you hug him. You look over his shoulder to see how he’s doing.

“What is it for?” You ask, curious.

“I am taking you to the mountains.”

You sit on the counter and pick one sandwich to bite into… and almost spit it out. 

This is horrendous.

You put your hand in front of your mouth.

“Thrawn… What did you put in those?” You ask horrified.

He gives you the red pasty thing that he spreaded and the vegetables he cutted with a confused look.

“Thrawn, you mixed bitter fish paste with fruits and acidic vegetables…”

You swallow with difficulty. He looks at his sandwiches with a defeated look. How rare!

“I do not know any of those ingredients, I guided myself with scent.” He admits.

“Let me help you.” You jump off the counter.

You pass on an apron and go through everything you got in the kitchen. 

“You could have helped yourself with the droïds.” You propose.

“I do not fully trust those machines yet.” He confesses.

“They have protocols and recipes in their brain, they won’t poison you. Your lack of cooking skill will!” You laugh.

You think he pouts, but can’t be sure. You select a bunch of fresh vegetables and give him another knife.

“Sharpen it. I will wash the vegetables.”

You thoroughly wash the purple and tangerine vegetables while listening to the sound of metal scraping against each other. Washed, you bring the large bowl on the counter and spread them evenly.

“Start slicing them up.”

You take the datapad and put on some music. You start bobbing your head to the beat, and put the datapad down next to your saucy holo. You feel your cheeks on fire.

“You’re really gonna read it?” you ask incredulously.

“Absolutely.” The tone doesn’t invite discussion.

You bite your inner cheek. You’re in a right mess. You go back to the cooking. 

“At least your slicing game is impeccable.” You praise him.

“Thank you, I hope your cooking game is better than mine.”

You join in, swigging on your heels with the music. You nudge him to dance with you but he remains imperturbable at your great dam. At some point you sing along, using a wooden spoon as a mic, swaying your hips.

At one moment you're sweeping your feet when you slip with a cry of surprise. Thrawn catches you with expert hands and a grin. He leans over you.

“What an idea to wear heels when you do not know how to walk with them.”

“I didn’t choose them, Arzel buyed them for me.” You explain.

His smile disappears.

He helps you stand up and goes back to his sandwiches with a stern face. Congrats idiot, you spoiled the mood. You bite your lip, you should have punched him in the throat, maybe he would have looked less hurt? You go back to help him in an embarrassed silence, only disturbed by the music in the background.

Finally you finished sweet and salty sandwiches for your little escapade with your stomach in knots.

“I recommend you change your clothes. You will not go far in the mountains in that attire.” He says “recommendation” but it sounds more like an order to you. 

____________________________________________________________________

You had to comply and change clothes. You took something more practical for riding. After preparing a picnic basket, Thrawn drove you to a stable of lizardly creatures and you’re riding through the mountains. Pressed against Thrawn’s back, head on his shoulder, this reminds you of the exam, when he droved that bike with you behind. 

You sigh, eyes closed, holding on to him, letting the movements of the lizard cradle you. With Thrawn as a heat source and this gentle rock you’re slowly falling asleep. Waking up this early doesn’t help either. 

"We arrived." Thrawn announces.

You open your eyes to a grand lake with cliffs and waterfalls and a shingle beach. The sun is hitting hard and you drool at the idea of dipping into this lake. You get out of the lizard, stretching your numb limbs and rubbing your butt, it’s not the most comfortable.  Thrawn jump from your ride with ease and agility, guiding it in the shadows of the blue pines. The creature yaps and rolls into the fresh grass with delectation. 

You take out your imager to immortalize this scene, you smile.

“A lake? You know there was one at the domain?”

He comes next to you and guides you on the beach with his hand on your lower back.

“I refuse to play on your fiance’s ground. I choose my own battlefield.” He simply states.

“It’s not a battle…” You shake your head. 

Men…

“Think again. We are at war with each other, because of you.”

You take an offended tone.

“Because of me?” You jeer.

“Yes. Because of you.” He insists, looking at the reflection of the lake. “A Governor and a Grand Admiral are at odds.”

You sneer. 

“What does it have to do with anything? Your standings don’t count for me.” You sit down on the stones, grouching.

He sits next to you with a straight back.

“I think it matters to him. I do not know how far he will go for you. If he brings politics in the jist of things, I will stand on shaky ground.”

“You realize your status as Grand Admiral gives you political powers too?” You insinuate.

“How so?” He asks surprised.

Thrawn and politics, you forgot about that.

“Either way, you work on the assumption he’s aware of the situation, why do you think we are doing this behind his back?” As you say that you realize you’re not especially ashamed of yourself.

“I would not be so sure.” He tempers “He clearly suspects something. He invited me on the promises of mutual gains and possible political support, but I am convinced he lied.”

You observe Thrawn’s profile, eyes fixed on the moving waters. 

“You analyzed his portrait?”

“I only got partial information because he was the subject and not the artist, but what I found pushes me to caution.”

You sigh, tired. When will this end?

“Well, maybe his-” He stops you by putting a finger on your lips, leaning toward you.

“Enough.” He lowly advises. “I did not bring you here to speak about him.” He caresses your lips with his thumb, pulling them slightly apart. “Come enjoy what nature has to offer?”

He tilts your head, holding your chin, his burning eyes straight into yours. You feel his breath on your lips. 

“Okay…” You pant.

His gaze navigates to your mouth and he kisses the corner of your lips. You flush instantly. He stands up and takes off his clothes. You’re devouring him stripping down, appreciating the lines of his abs, the tensing up of his biceps, his broad chest and shoulders, whatever his age is he’s wonderfully well preserved and hunky. You lick your lips unconsciously. He strips down to his boxers and turns towards you with a light grin.

“You are going to come or you are just going to watch?” He offers.

You nod gulping, working your way on your blazer. He kneels before you and starts undoing with you, helping you slide it off your shoulder. As he lifts your shirt, his fingers graze your flank and ribs, goosebumps follow in their trail. His fingers snake their way and caress your bra and tummy as he goes down. 

His hands are warm.

Your abdominals and south region contract at that simple touch, and you think he noticed, even if he doesn’t say a thing. He unbutton your pants and pull them off your waist and legs. You’re both in your underwear now. You gulp. You hope you appear confident and not like the emotional mess you are right now. You didn’t put on the most alluring underwears, rocking a more sporty style. You squirm under his gaze. 

He gently pulls you on your feet and you walk to the water. 

You dip one foot. It’s a bit cold, but offers a nice contrast to the warm air.

He advances more, still holding your hand and you’re soon immersed til the shoulders. You breathe deeply, trying to get used to the temperature. You swim, trying to heat up with Thrawn slowly crawling on his back next to you. 

“It is beautiful.” You admit.

“I was starting to long for nature and its simple pleasures, instead of our city lifestyles.” He whispers, eyes closed, taking advantage of the moment.

You remember he spent several months alone on that planet before being rescued by Eli and the Empire. Did he ventured often in nature back home? You swim closer.

“You spent a lot of time in nature on your homeworld?” You inquire.

“Not as much as I would have liked. I was most often in space with my operative forces, but I took every chance I had to profit from nature and its treasures.”

“My parents used to drag me into hikes when I was younger. I wanted to stay at home and draw or read, but they forced me to follow them. Back then I hated it.” You giggle. “But now that I spent my time inside ships and that I live on Coruscant, I realize the chance I had to have a homeworld with its environment preserved.” You sigh. “What would I give to go back on a hike with them now…” You let yourself float next to him.

Silence takes place before he takes back the floor, a bit of hesitation or memory in the voice.

“I used to go on hikes with my brother.”

You look at him, eyes fixed on the sky like he would see his brother’s face appear. You guess he’s talking about the brother who died because of him, you can hear a lingering pain hiding in his words. 

“I would like for you to speak to me about your brother, your family, how life was in your world…” You murmur, grasping his hand. “Not today, nor tomorrow… But one day. When you would feel ready. I want you to know you could tell me all of it…”

He squeezes your hand, caressing it with his thumb.

You remain like that for a moment, simply floating at the mercy of water’s currents in silence. 

 You shiver. You don’t get use to the water temperature.

He pulls you against him.

“My body temperature is higher than that of a human.” He justifies himself.

“Thank you.” You respond, shivering.

You snuggle against his warm body, you already feel better. You embrace him once more, laying your head on his wet shoulder. He holds you close, you put your hand on his chest, searching for his heartbeat, you feel it missing a beat as you touch him. You draw circles on his pec with the tip of your nail, you sigh.

If only time could stop.

You wanna stay like that forever. 

His hand caresses your back, mind-absently.

It is low at first but you hear it and feel it. He’s purring. You’re going forward with your own caresses and slides your hand all the way to his abs, feeling the smooth and solid texture under your palm. The purr deepens. You wanna let your hand travel further, slip it in his boxer, kissing him and chuck everything in. Go with the flow. You chuckle at those childish and low desires. Nothing is that simple.

Lulled by this soft sound your mind starts to wander.

“You’re a cruel man…” You whisper.

He doesn’t answer but his hand stops its caress, signaling you you have his attention.

“I had a neat little life, a future all traced up, a successful future wedding… And you came and shaked everything. Now I’m not sure of anything…”

“You are far more cruel.”

You look at him, wonder in your eyes. His sight slide on you.

“You take your pleasure with me while giving me hope, but I have no certainty you are going to choose me.” He caresses your head. “Maybe you play me like a fool… And I can not read it in you.”

You lay back down your head on his chest.

“You’re right, I’m cruel…” You whisper.

Maybe you’re both in the wrong.

For now you just want to profit from the present moment.

You get out of the water and spray on the shingle to dry. 

Away the lizard is peacefully sleeping.

Thrawn is looking for something in the bag, and takes out… your cheeky holo. You burst out laughing.

“Oh no! Don’t tell me you're actually gonna read it?”

“I am gonna do more than that. I am gonna read it to you.”

You squirm, chuckling.

You put your head on his chest and he grazes your tummy with his hand and starts reading. You have to refrain yourself from laughing at the situation. He starts his reading by a scene in a cafe. It's not too salacious, but it escalates quickly and you’re listening to him narrating the most dirty and naughty acts without any shame. His deep and melodious voice is actually perfect and you find yourself moaning and sighing at his descriptions. His hand caressing your tummy traveled south to your venus mount and strokes softly the tender flesh with delicacy. You entangle your legs, crossing and uncrossing them as it pleases your core, awakened by the reading and the gentle attentions of his hand. You don’t push it back, instead you grip his arm and hold on to it while he fondles you. Sometimes his hand comes across the hem of your panties and it slides under it, just a little, like a secret, never going too far, but definitely here. You lick your lips and deeply sigh, the sun rays warming you with Thrawn’s skin. 

If only you could purr too.

You could purr in unisson. Together.

But for now you profit from the delicious reading that unfolds.

“You really have the most perfect voice for that…” You sigh.

“For salacious texts?” You hear the dry humor in his voice.

“For reading.” You correct. “But the naughtiness is definitively a plus. You could make a career off of it, people would go crazy.”

“I will try to think about it if ever the Emperor dismisses me.”

 ______________________________________________________________

You get back to the mansion hand in hand, in silence but you hear your own heart beat like a drum. You’re all worked up and bothered but soon will come the moment of the separation. You both linger at your door, you simper, fiddling with his hands. He delicately kisses your forehead and wishes you a good night, you close your door with a deep sigh. You lean against it holding your face between both hands, feeling the heat of your cheeks. You shake your head, giving you a countenance and go for a shower when you notice a message on your comlink.

You open it. And open your eyes wide.

Your cousin, your informant, is dead.

Why? 

How? 

You know the answer to those questions. The Pirates.

They must have realized they were being spied on, and feeling cornered, your cousin sent you those last pieces of information.

Your hands start trembling. 

You knew you were bringing him into dangerous territory. But still.

This is so unfair.

You hold your comlink near your heart and a sob comes shaking you. Kneeling on your bed, sadness comes crashing down upon you. 

You hear knocks.

“Enter…” You sob.

The door opens behind your back, steps come closer to your bed and strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against a warm body.

“What happened?” Thrawn softly ask.

You can’t respond, you just hand him your comlink. He scrolls with one hand, holding you with the other. You snuggle against him, searching for more warmth. He holds you close, caressing your back and kissing your forehead. You both lay down in your bed in silence only interrupted by your sobs. You grasp his clothes, digging your nails into the fabric, wetting his shirt with your tears. 

You have to put an end to this matter.

For him.

_________________________________________________________________

He looks at you.

You’re sleeping. 

He caresses your temple, looks at your head moving up and down as he breathes. 

If only this day could never end…

But he soon will need to burst the bubble, and you might hate him for it.

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

[steponmepinkjun]

This idea is lowkey fucking BRILLIANT. Piggybacking off of this HC of the LIs running a fanblog about MC…. 

The Arcana babes find out their beloved in-game LI (MC of course) is based on a real person…but make it EXTRA spicey 🔥😳🙊

Warnings: This takes place in a universe where the LIs are horny for you, and where you produce Horny Content. If that’s not something you’re comfortable with, this won’t be your cup of Joe 👌 Descriptions of sex acts and body parts and all that horny jazz.

This is fun, super self-indulgent tomfoolery, so suspend your disbelief folks lol. I banged this out super quick and you can totally tell Daddy Luci was the most fun to write 😂 Enjoy, kittycats

Asra ~

Once he finds out the devs based your character on a real person… that you’re REAL… it takes about ten seconds for him to become your biggest fan both on and off social media

Did. Did you just say. You have. An OnlyFans. Holy FU—

From 0 to Boner in under sixty seconds

Your naughty ASMR work is his favorite, it makes him absolutely melt from how hot it is to finally have a sultry voice to match the face he’s come to love so much

Whether you’re role-playing a romantic partner experience, or purring into the mic about all the nasty ways you want to push his body to its limits, his hand is on his cock and it’s aching for you and you alone

Not saying he eventually finds he can’t cum unless he hears your voice in his ears, but uh…

He’s out at a coffee shop in LA one day when he nearly trips over his own boots. There’s no way in hell that’s really who he thinks it is walking towards the entrance

He almost doesn’t think, he just acts. He quickly tells the batista he’s going to pay for whatever you order, and to add your favorite pastry, as well (you mentioned how much you love apple turnovers once online and he never forgot)

He struggles to seem cool and collected as you approach the counter, and when the batista points over your shoulder at him, you turn and greet him with the most gorgeous grin he’s ever seen—

He’s not expecting to get so much as a hello, let alone a date, but here he is, laying underneath you in your hotel bed, completely at your mercy. This time, your voice in his ear is accompanied by the wet, hot slide of your tongue when you order him to cum for you

Nadia ~

She stumbles upon the interview by accident. She’s scrolling through her timeline in between clients at her law firm, and sees a video snippet that seems out of place on her feed. Why is it tagged as The Arcana?

Well, well, well. What do we have here?

She can’t help but mentally tip her hat at the games illustrators. They almost managed to capture your beauty.

Her eyes widen when you casually mention what a shame it is that the game has no true 18+ scenes, seeing as there are so many nude portraits you’ve posed for that would have been wonderful references…

Even though she’s alone in her corner office, she glances surreptitiously around before somewhat bashfully opening her search engine

When she finds your OnlyFans page, she has to scoff. You could be charging ten times this rate. In fact… Perhaps she might suggest such a thing.

She’s shocked when you actually reply to her message. You’re flattered, you state, but creating erotic art is what drives you, not a dollar sign. But perhaps you’d care to discuss it in person sometime? The merits of art, that is.

She immediately rings her assistant to cancel her engagements this week. Discuss art, indeed.

Julian ~

All two of his braincells promptly vacate the premises when he learns you’re not just a painfully tantalizing work of fiction, but a living, breathing, gorgeous—

Is that a fucking leather harness you’re wearing

He’s never been so close to cumming just from a glance at a single image

His tastes aren’t too outlandish, not for the kind of company he usually keeps. But still, he is absolutely not prepared to see you with riding crop in hand, posing in front of an impressive display of floggers, paddles, rope, canes, collars, plugs, dildos…

He subscribes to all your services. Premium chats, daily photos, the occasional video snippet that he wishes like hell he could lick you clean after

He’s not at all shy about leaving very, very detailed feedback on all your content. Such an vixen deserves to be worshipped with praise

When a chat window pops up one night after your live stream, he falls out of his chair when he sees who it’s from. You really messaging him?

You mention how much you appreciated his response to your toy collection tour video, noting not many of your viewers have expressed such adventurous taste—some of your toys have scared off even devoted subs. Would he perhaps be interested in grabbing a drink sometime?

Julian Brain Cell Counter: 0 of 0 active

Muriel ~

He almost considers quitting the game cold turkey when he finds out

The knowledge that you’re REAL, you’re out there somewhere, wonderful and everything he wants and he can’t have you

It’s just too much. His poor heart can’t take it

He shoots off a quick message to his followers, bidding them farewell. This has all gone too far, he says, and he can’t keep breaking his own heart over someone who doesn’t even know he exists

The first comment reads, “Have you seen their onlyfans tho????”

Let’s be real, Muri has to Google what that even is

And he is… stunned. To say the least.

You do… This? You have one of these? Does that mean you're—

Nope, he’s not going there. He can’t. He won’t and he can’t. But more importantly he won’t.

His resolve is optimistic at best. No fewer than three days later he’s sitting at the computer, credit card in hand

He’s taken aback by your photos. They’re all taken from the point of view of what could be a lover

Sweet candids of you smiling over your shoulder clad only in an open-back apron as you stir a pot on the stove. An image of sun spilling over your bare back as you lay naked utop an unmade bed. Your hands gently towelling yourself off as you step out of a steaming shower.

It’s hard for him to feel guilty when there’s such intimacy to these photos. It’s like he’s there with you, like he’s the one with camera in hand documenting the evidence of your lovemaking

It dominates his thoughts for days, preoccupying his hands and his mind as he dutifully tends to the rows of plants in the nursery he works at. Conversation floats around him unnoticed until—

A customer is asking his coworker what the best way to care for their succulents is, and where they might find soil for their cacti collection

“I can show you,” he blurts out. And that face. That face that colors his dreams. That face is here, really here, right in front of him. Smiling at him the way he’s been dreaming they would

Portia ~

Let’s be real. She stumbled upon your thirst-trap-snaps looong before she made the connection to who you are

But once she does?

Well damn those hit a lil bit different now

Your cheeky little dances are one thing, but she certainly never thought she’d get to see this, uh, behind the scenes footage

She can’t help feeling a little bit naughty when you gaze into the camera as you playfully move onscreen, like you’re looking directly at her

But she has to admit… She kind of likes feeling like you’re teasing her

There’s a lightness, a playfulness, in all the provocative content you create. It’s clear you’re having fun, whether you’re experimenting with some new makeup in nothing but a silk robe, or laughing at how long it’s taking you to learn this new trendy tiktok dance (the way your body moves and shakes makes her weak)

Your silly videos are interspersed with informative, lighthearted toy reviews. Not that you really need to explain what you like about certain ones, your body more than explains what’s so good about them

You upload a cheeky snippet of you flashing the camera from a secluded corner of a small cafe—Portia gasps and hurriedly comments, “Omg that’s The Bean on Main! I love that place! Their Columbian roast is divine (and so is the view, Lovey 👀♥️”

Only a minute later, an incoming message lights up her screen. She gasps, shrieks, and throws her phone across the bed. “PEPI, IT’S THEM, WHAT DO I DO, OH MY GOD—”

She eventually musters the courage to open the message. “You and I must be neighbors!” it reads. “Maybe we’ll see each other at The Bean sometime. This weekend, perhaps?”

Her resulting shriek of excitement sends Pepi zooming out the door and almost wakes the neighbors.

Lucio ~

He’s not shocked when he discovers your character in-game is not a work of fiction, but based on a real life flesh-and-blood being

Even the most talented creator couldn’t conjure your kind of perfection from out of nowhere

He watches all your interview snippets with the game creators, entirely bewitched by the little mannerisms the game couldn’t capture

And, of course, by your face and body. You’re the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen and he’s not ashamed to say it

He’s also not ashamed to stroke his cock while he watches you discuss topics he considers utterly boring, like game development or how you found yourself modelling for the game. He has an active imagination and it’s not hard to picture those lips of yours devoted to an altogether different kind of task

You mention dabbling in some saucy extracurricular work only in passing, but by the Gods he takes to Google with a quickness

When he finds your profile, he lets out a low wolf-whistle just reading what kind of content you sell. “Fucking hell, baby,” he smiles to himself. “You know exactly what Daddy likes.”

He has an OnlyFans of his own, and briefly wonders if you might consider, uh, collaborating on some work together

But then he scrolls through an itemized list of your interests, and several words flash in his brain like comically huge neon signs

PRIMAL PLAY

He’s shooting off a message before he has time to think

(He, of course, won’t notice the errors in spelling or punctuation)

“Hey gorjus 👀🤩🥵💥💣 wyd all alone in ur vids? Need a helpnh 🖐️??? 😉🔥😈👅🍑 Lemme kno babe, im always down 2 get n tuch w my primal side 💪☠️ oh, && Daddys packin lik i kno uv never seen 💯😎🍆🚨💪💪💦💦💦”

At first you’re not sure if it’s infuriatingly stupid, or somehow charming… But you decide to find out for yourself.

Lucio is, obviously, not surprised when your reply in the affirmative hits his inbox. I mean, he’s Lucio fucking Morgasson 

[brooklynislandgirl]

👌🛌 [ Lorcan/rocker]

Ain't Exactly Barry White || Accepting

“One way or other, ye always be on ye knees, aye Auntie?” She is kneeling beside her bed. Arms bent up at the elbow and hands clasped together in supplication to the divine, rosary falling around her wrists in delicate streams of polished koa wood beads. She doesn’t turn, doesn’t stop mouthing the words in silent breath. But tension appears in the bare space of skin between her narrow shoulders. How stiff she becomes. The rush of colour and chicken-skin at the sound of his voice, the implication he makes. How a single word can completely eviscerate every last good intention she has. There is an ocean of shame at the same time when she feels those words pool low in her belly. Her hands shake when she makes the sign of the cross, whispers her amen. Then and only then does she turn her head over her shoulder and glances at him. Lorcan leans in her doorway, one broad shoulder pressed up against the frame. And of course he takes up all available space between the length of his legs and the width of his chest, all of him demanding the whole of her attention. She stains her eyes lifting them to his face. There’s a rakish smile on his lips and there’s whiskey dancing in his eyes. In the glow of her faery lights they are so much darker than they ought to be and she knows she’s very much in danger of falling into them, never to be found again. She impresses herself with how level her whisper is, it only barely shakes at the edges. “How’d you even get in heah?” The rise and fall of his shoulder, an insolent ghost of a shrug. He’s thinking of the most devastating thing to say to her but maybe its his simple truth that is more damning than any smug platitude that could slink out between his lips. Or maybe it’s that faint hint of fang when the corner of his lip tilts upward, a quick wrinkle of his nose. Of course the security code wouldn’t pose him a challenge, which is why the house-alarm never sounded. “One thing ye can count on be his ego. Make o’ his car....his badge number. I no have to be a rocket scientist ta know t’at.” He peels himself from the threshold of her room and steps in bold as he pleases like he owns the space, like this is where he belongs. She can find nothing in herself to discount him of the notion. She does rise though. It won’t even the ground because she’s still leagues shorter. She’d have to stand on the bed if she had any desire to come close to looking him in the eye. In the span of a breath he’s in front of her. His hands all but swallow her waist as he plucks her off the ground and does set her on the mattress, reading her thoughts some how. One abandons the space above the flare of her hip and reaches to cup her cheek. Calloused thumb brushes her cheek, as if he could soothe away the years and the fine lines starting to show at the corners of her eyes. Laugh-lines they’re called in kindness. Follows the line down from her nose until he catches her lip. Caresses that too. Now she can see his green in the partial dark. She can taste the whiskey on his breath. Inch by slow inch Lorcan’s fist gathers the satin of her nightgown, exposing smooth lengths of her tawny thigh. She lifts her free hand, the one not trying to clutch the crucifix for all that she is worth, and places her palm on his chest. But she doesn’t have the ability to push him away. Not any more than she did a decade ago when he was eighteen and reeling from shock and pain and loss.  He doesn’t kiss her properly this time. Instead his mouth affixes to the slender column of her throat, right where her pulse can throb against the wet seal of his lips. Maybe he just wants to feel the soundless stuttering breath she gasps. And when she does, hand lets go of cloth and finds a new home between her thighs, flirting with lace, flirting with fire. Beth’s life is run on a schedule. And the precise moment she tangles her hands in his hair is when her phone decides to betray her, putting on the music she needs to fall asleep. He chuckles knowingly against her skin as he closes in for a less than gentle nip when he hears his own voice coming from the bedroom speaker. He’s always known it was one of her favourite songs.