#cords knot free

[delirious-donna]

tw: kento x female reader, breeding, kitchen sex (because when is that not hot?), kento speaking his mind (yeah it’s filthy 🫦)

Kento found you in the kitchen, guided to you by the sweet lilt of the tune you were absently humming. He loosened the knot of his tie and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows, exposing the corded muscles in his forearms.

Everything was right with the world once he had returned to your warm presence. Nothing could sour his mood now that he was home, and he watched from the doorway as you prepared cookies for baking, leaning against the frame with arms crossed and his cock twitching to life.

It was amazing how the tiredness, that only moments ago had pressed against his eyes, lifted as he admired your figure. The summer dress that showed off the plush of your thighs and thin straps that would be far too easy to push down to reveal your beautiful breasts.

You really were perfect for him. Nanami knew you would be a wonderful mother, but that thought startled him as he had not thought himself ready for such responsibility—not yet.

… but maybe?

How could he deny the pleasure thrumming through his body when he thought of you round with his child? His cock strained painfully against his expensive tailored trousers and a sudden tightness forced his balls to draw up, ready and aching.

It only took three strides and he was behind you. You startled with a high-pitched yelp at his unexpectedly sudden presence, jumping in the heat of his body as he crowded you against the counter without uttering a single word. His strong capable hands made hasty work of pressing beneath your dress to find the waist of your underwear, tugging them down until they pooled around your bare feet on the floor.

“Kento!” you giggled, slapping playfully at his hands, but he was not to be dissuaded and you weren’t really putting up any resistance. There was an urgency that surrounded him—thick and consuming. The air seemed to ripple with tiny vibrations that had not been there moments earlier and you eased into the sensations like sinking into a perfectly hot bath.

His strong forearms flexed as he pawed and massaged your breasts through the thin material of your dress, pinching at your budding nipples until you were fervently grinding against his prominent erection.

You barely had time to draw breath as the sound of his belt being unbuckled was followed by the drag of metal teeth being eased apart. Kento’s cologne enveloped your senses, the familiar warm notes tickling your nose and had you reaching back a hand to thread your fingers through his perfectly parted hair. Your toes curl against the tiled floor, expectation bubbling low and hot in your belly.

“I’m a lucky man,” he murmured into the soft curve of your neck. His lips left wet spots in a pattern only known to him, sucking marks that he would later finger and examine with that faint little smile that never failed to make your heart stutter in your chest.

“Then I’m a lucky woman,” you countered, ending on a gasp when the straps of your dress eased off your shoulders and fell to your elbows.

Kento hummed. His brain couldn’t stop conjuring the image of you growing with his seed, of the glow that would accompany such a venture and the flutter of kicks he would feel when laying his palms over your stomach. You stilled; the gears in your head whirring when he touched your belly and his hips rutted forward to saw the thick impression of his cock through the cleft of your backside.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart. That’s it… good girl.”

The skirt of your dress lifted to reveal your bare behind, forcing you to brace a hand atop the counter and you twisted your head to watch as he pulled the weight of his cock free from his underwear, purple and leaking fat pearls of precum. Your mouth watered, jaw falling slack when his fingers trailed the length of your slit, thumb rubbing gentle circles atop your throbbing clit. Kento pumped his impressive length, once twice, but he was more than ready to be accepted by your body.

The height difference made it a little awkward but Kento was a man on a mission, widening his stance and bending his knees until he notched at the flexing entrance of your cunt and pushed in on a grunt of exaltation. A shudder rippled down his spine, his teeth set whilst he fought the primal urge to let go immediately. He was wound nearly to breaking point with the need to pump his load into you and keep it there, but the fraying strands of his manners persisted.

Your toes barely touched the floor as he forced you to bend against the counter, your face right next to the sheet of cookies you had been ready to bake. The stretch of his girth made you hiss and writhe like a snake but he held you firm until he could bottom out and soothe the burning need you both felt.

Kento was still, his chest heaved as he fought down the urge to pound you stupid until your cunt was drooling on the floor and saliva pooled from your mouth.

“I think it’s about time I bred this sweet little pussy. Don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“Kento!”

He threw back his head; the rhythmic clench of your velvet walls betraying the shock of your voice. He smiled into your hair, kneading the fat of your breasts with rough hands and pistoned his hips harder and faster.

“Mm, I thought so. Let’s see how many loads you can take tonight. Then we can start all over again in the morning…”

[3amfanfiction]

Picture Perfect pt 1

Lieutenant MacTavish confiscated your suggestive, racy photo when your then-boyfriend was waving it around, showing all his army buddies. If he then studied your picture and used it as wanking material for the next year, complete with a few domestic fantasies, that was nobody's business but his own; he wasn't hurting anyone. The picture was tucked away in a drawer, completely forgotten about until the day he came back from deployment as a captain with a nasty bullet graze and spotty memory. Cleaning out his desk, he found your photo again. He couldn't remember your name but he knew what you sounded like moaning his name. He didn't remember where you'd met but he knew he slipped a ring on your finger the night you both went out searching for the best garlic bread in the city. He wasn't sure if you had family but he knew what the silken clench of your cunt felt like around his fingers and cock. With all his unexpected free-time maybe he should track down his wayward wife. It had been too long since he'd seen you and he wasn't one to let things slip through his fingers. Whatever caused your separation would be dealt with, he wasn't going to lose you again.

3k words about Captain MacTavish finding his wife who he needs to re-woo. Nothing too serious, just a little scene.

His head ached as he cleaned out his desk, at least half due to his clenched jaw, muscles corded and knotted along the sharp jut of bone. Who did the brass think they were, putting him on indefinite leave just because of a bit of spotty memory. He remembered everything important! Everything that mattered was highlighted neon bright in his brain—the things that would keep his men alive, the pressure points of informants needed to complete the job. It was only the finer details that seemed to slip through his fingers like sand. What school he went to, when he'd graduated boot camp. A snarl crept across his face he gathered up everything in his desk drawer and threw it into a box. Talk about bullshit.

Slamming the drawer shut he turned to the next, scooping up handfuls of papers and knickknacks alike to be thrown haphazardly together, ready to be toted off home. He'd given up his life for the military and this was how they wanted to treat him? The first sign of something not going their way and they wanted to ship him off like trash. Like he couldn't do his job better than everyone on this goddamned base. Who had the longest streak of missions without a casualty? That's right, it was him.

Reaching into the back of the drawer he swiped around heatedly, looking for any remaining items he might have missed with his first pass. A smooth, glossy material met his fingertips and he pulled it out with an annoyed huff, turning to throw it into the box with the rest before taking in what was in his hand.

It was a picture.

A very pretty picture.

You were sat on the bed, suggestively posing for the camera, perched on your heels with a warm smile directed towards the lens. Eyes staring into his soul.

He knew this picture. He'd helped you take it, hadn't he? Or maybe you'd sent it to him? He couldn't quite remember the particulars but he remembered the photo. His pretty wife, all dolled up just for him in his favorite color. You'd sent it to help him through a deployment now that he was thinking about it. Something to remember you by while he was away.

As if he could forget you.

He slumped back into his chair holding the picture up to study it. Tilting it to keep the reflective shine off your face. Where was his wife at now? He knew he hadn't seen you for a while, but why? Why didn't you live together?

His head gave a particularly nasty throb and he tucked the thought away, refocusing. It didn't matter why you weren't together. He would find you and bring you home. He didn't believe in divorce and it was time to work through this separation. Plus, he had a plethora of unexpected free time suddenly staring him down. What better way to use it than to find an errant spouse.

Tucking the picture into his pocket, he started making plans to reach out to a few old friends. A name would be helpful but he was nothing if not resourceful.

\\\

You had just put the finishing touches on your dinner, aromatic herbs scenting the air when the doorbell rang. Wondering who would show up this late in the evening unannounced, you wiped your hands before heading to see. What greeted you was a mountain of a man with a flinty look on his face. A grown-out mohawk and bright blue eyes, weathered and creased, met your gaze before a slow smile broke out across his sternly handsome face.

"There you are, bonnie lass. No need to worry any longer, I'm home."

Without waiting for your response he ducked down to press a kiss to your cheek, his scruff scratching your skin before he pushed his way inside, letting a hand drag along your hip in passing. You shivered and shifted away, your mouth dropping open in shock.

"Wait—you can't come in," you spluttered, trying to place if you'd ever seen this man before. You followed him hesitantly to the kitchen where you saw he had found your silverware drawer and was taking a bite of your food hunched over the stovetop.

Watching him shovel the food into his mouth you observed the stranger, keeping a healthy distance between the two of you. You took in his disheveled hairstyle all the way down to his well-worn boots which he hadn't bothered to remove at the door. Asshole. He was already rude for storming in like he owned the place but to not have the common courtesy to pull his filthy shoes off before he tracked dirt all over your clean floors was beyond the pale.

"Better than I remember, hen."

Your eyes grew wide as you stared in shock at his audacity. "You can't just push your way into a strangers home and eat their food. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" You mentally smacked yourself, pulling yourself back to heel quickly. Your mouth was going to get you into trouble one of these days.

"Ach, it's been a while since I'm talked with my mam. I hope you've been keeping in contact with her." Great blue eyes turned to pin you to your place, "It would break her heart if she stopped hearing from you."

You weren't going to even touch the double standards of that statement. Maybe if you were feeling a bit more sure of yourself but you felt firmly on the back foot right now.

"Why are you here?" you tried again, getting your thoughts back on track. "What is it you want?" Direct. To the point. You'd knows the man for less than a minute but you got the feeling he would steamroll right over the slightest hint of hesitancy from you. A wrecking ball in human form.

He paused, his hand halfway to his mouth loaded with another bite and gave you an obscure look, eyes glinting with something you couldn't make out.

"I'm here to bring my wife home, of course."

Of course. So simple. And it explained exactly nothing.

"Okay," you hedged, frowning at him. "I don't have her tucked away in a closet so what's that have to do with me?"

The stranger gave a mysterious smile before going back to your food. It was already halfway gone with the way he was inhaling it. A spark of annoyance traveled up your spine to sit with your shock and unease. You'd spent a good chunk of time making that and now you wouldn't even be able to enjoy it.

You'd really been looking forward to it too.

"Well?" you tried again. "Why are you in my house if you're looking for your wife? I certainly haven't seen her," and you wouldn't tell him even if you had. There was a indisputable manic glow coming from behind his eyes that made you wary. Some hind brain part of you perking up with a flashing 'danger' sign when you looked at this man who had commandeered your kitchen.

Scooping up the final bite, he dropped his spoon into the sink with a swallow and came over to you, reaching up to cup your face, thumbs rasping gently along your cheekbones. The way his fingers curved over the back of your skull kept his hands in place when you tried to pull away. "Just look at you, prettier than I remembered."

He did seem awfully entranced with you now that the food was gone. Eyes roving your face and trailing down to your stockinged feet before locking with yours once more. A small hint of a smile peeked through his sternness, a hint at brighter depths hidden behind the stone wall of his stoic expression.

Whether that brightness equaled kindness was still up for debate.

"I still don't know who you are or why you're in my house," you stammered, him finally relaxing enough to allow you to pull back out of his grasp. You took a shaky step backwards to put some distance back between the two of you.

"Gonna play it that way, are we?" he rumbled, his deep voice holding a bit of a growl. "All right. If I wooed you once I can woo you again, aye? I'm not above a bit of groveling to get you back where you belong." You were annoyed at the flutter you felt when he smiled charmingly down at you. Clearly a well-practiced expression on him. "Although you acting like you don't remember your husband's name is pretty hurtful. Are you a spiteful lass, then?" His smile changed to a there-and-gone smirk hiking up one side of his mouth, "I always did like them with a bit of bite."

You swallowed nervously.

"I think you need to leave," you tried, gesturing towards the front door. "I'm not your wife and there's no one else here so I'd appreciate it if you left." You tried to steel yourself, puffing up your chest to make yourself seem bigger and more self-assured. Hoping to dissuade him.

"We'll take it slow, I know better than to rush these things," he stated, dropping down to press a there-and-gone kiss to your forehead. "I'll be by tomorrow to fix that dripping faucet and then we can go for lunch."

Pulling your thoughts back into line you gaped at him. "Do not show back up at my house tomorrow," you told him, ire barely concealing the pleading lining every word but he wasn't listening. With a mockingly cheerful whistle he headed back towards the door, breezing out just as easily as he had breezed in.

You were left with a rumbling stomach and a quiet house, feeling like you'd just been sucker-punched. What just happened?

\\\

You weren't going to answer the door no matter how hard he knocked. You weren't home. Nobody was home so he should just leave.

Fretting on the couch, you glared at your entryway in outrage and uncertainty in equal measure. How long was he going to beat on your door? It already felt like it'd been going on for ages. You could barely hear yourself think with the way his hammering blows rattled the wood. You knew it wasn't the most secure and you were half worried he was going to take it off its hinges if this kept up.

You still weren't sure what happened last night.

After he left you scrounged up some dinner. Nothing like what you'd originally made but needs must. By the time you were finished you were beyond exhausted, the day's events draining you of every spec of energy. Deciding that you would deal with everything tomorrow you went to bed, certain that things would look different in the morning light.

What you hadn't counted on was tossing and turning all night, mind running a thousand miles an hour as you thought about your self-proclaimed 'husband' in all his glory. Why had he picked you to barge in on?

The only way you saw it was he was trying to con you out of or into something.

This whole 'wife' shtick could be a ploy he used with other unsuspecting people until he got whatever he wanted from them. This would hold a lot of weight if you had anything of value. Beyond a few pricey electronics there wasn't a whole lot you had.

And if he was trying to con you into something, well good luck to him. You were nothing if not stubborn and knowing someone was trying to pull a fast one on you ahead of time? You'd be able to dig your feet in until the problem went away.

But now it was noon and the problem was back at your house with no true plan in sight.

You didn't have a whole lot of options past hoping he went away. You'd rather not get the cops involved though you would if he seemed at all violent. You didn't have anyone who could come scare him away or talk to him for you. You were stuck hoping that he would get tired and leave. Hoping that he decided you were too much effort for whatever prank or ill plan he had hatched with you as the victim.

While your thoughts slowly spiraled you never noticed the pounding quieting before there was a rustle of bags and a scraping sound coming from the handle. What you did notice was your door suddenly swinging open, the stranger from last night standing back up to full height from where he'd been crouched, pocketing something in a swift movement.

"Salty lass, not letting your husband in when he's knocking at the door," he groused before brushing it aside, moving back towards the kitchen to deposit the bags he was holding on the table. "I brought lunch with so we could eat here and get to know each other again rather than going out. I don't much care for the stares," he gestured to his temple and the mass of scar tissue that furrowed from his brow back towards his skull. "There's a fantastic little deli not too far from my house. I couldn't remember what you liked so I got a few different options."

You could only stand and watch in dismay as he worked to pull food from the bags he brought, a well-worn tool bag set off to the side showed he planned to make true to his word from yesterday.

With the daylight and an absence of shock you were able to take him in, from his broad shoulders pulling at the cotton covering them—seams straining against his bulk as he moved around your kitchen pulling out plates and cups—down to his thick thighs, rounded and looking quite capable of running anyone down. You watched him do a double-take at the kitschy collection of mugs you owned before continuing on. In no time flat the table was set and he looked at you expectantly.

"Did you just pick the lock on my front door?" you finally gathered yourself enough to ask, still staring at him, not making a move towards the table. You kind of thought that only happened in tv shows and books, not in real life.

The stranger brushed it off with a wave of his hand, "Don't worry about all that, although we need to see about getting you some better security. You'll move into mine, of course. It's much more secure."

You did a double take at his presumption.

"You're joking. If anything I need better security from you."

This was ridiculous. What was the bit? What was he hoping to swindle from you with all of this? You didn't have spare cash—everything went straight to bills. Your apartment was decorated with items from the thrift shop, nothing he could hock. You had half a mind to let this play out—see it through to its end just to watch his mounting frustration.

"That's hurtful, hen. I know I've changed a bit over the years—got a few more scars than you probably remember—but I'm still me, aye? Still just Johnny, even though I'm a captain now." His chest puffed up on the word captain, clearly something he took pride in. You couldn't help the sardonic congratulations you shot his way, looking to stick a pin in his inflating ego.

He didn't seem to hear the tone you used and for the first time you saw a full, true smile break out over his face, nothing like the earlier smirks and half-hearted grins. It was shocking how much it changed his whole demeanor. Suddenly this stern, stoic man turned into a kid being complimented on their artwork.

For a split second you felt ashamed at yourself, that you could be cruel to someone like that, even if it was slight and mostly in your own head. Only for a moment though. You quickly remembered that he was in your house after picking the lock no less. It was annoying how easily he seemed to derail your thoughts and feelings.

He stepped closer to you as if he were about to sweep you into a hug, a loved one to share in a celebration with. You darted around the table instead, keeping it firmly between the two of you, wanting all the distance you could get from this handsome stranger.

You cleared your throat, "I'm sure your wife misses you," maybe you could redirect him? "You should go find her."

"Does she?" he asked with a quizzical smile, as if you were in on a joke together and he was playing along.

"Without a doubt."

"Well, I'll have to do everything I can to make sure she takes me back." With a jarring slap to his thigh he changed the subject. "Come sit down, it's time to eat."

You watched him warily for a moment, ensuring he wasn't going to lunge for another hug before hesitantly taking a seat. Looking at the food spread out in front of you, your mouth started watering like a traitor. You would be ecstatic at the offering if it wasn't your insistent pseudo-husband who brought it.

Pulling a dish towards you with a fleeting thought about poison, you let your mind wander to the sounds of chewing. What were you going to do? He clearly wasn't going to leave just because you told him to. He acted like you'd known each other for years

Maybe it was best to play along. You could act like a separated spouse and give him a to-do list a mile long to scare him away. You couldn't see another way out of this past being so odious and leaning into stereotypes hard enough that he got bored and stopped playing this unusual routine. And in the back of your mind you were worried about what would happen if you upset him by insisting too strongly that you weren't his spouse.

You looked at him, observing as he demolished his lunch. Hopefully it would wear the shine off of this spouse routine quickly. If he was picking the locks to get inside it wasn't like you could keep him out. Instead you'd wear him down, make him see that this wasn't really what he wanted and then he'd go on his way. Breeze out of your life the same way he'd breezed in.

With a plan firmly in place you took the time to enjoy your lunch. Might as well milk it for everything he'd give you while you were doing this and the food truly was delicious. He'd managed to get a little bit of everything so it was practically buffet style at your table. In no time flat you were stuffed.

Finishing your last bite you turned to look at him. Time to get started.

"You said something about fixing the sink?"

Part Two

[lanabuckybarnes]

BABYGIRL, Challenge for you:

Slutty little Drabble, kinky and the first character you think about.🤭🤭

| CottageCore | 18+ MINORS DNI

Everyone Knows to steer clear of the small cottage in the woods. Everyone except the Princess. Now she must deal with the consequences of her own actions — not that she’s complaining.

[More from Beast!Ari]

✧ Pairing ✧ Beast!Ari Levinson x Princess!Reader

✧ Warnings ✧ Size Kink, Dom!Ari, Rough PinV sex, Unprotected Sex, Dacryphilia, Breeding, Dirty talk, Squirting, Dumbification, Overstimulation, Belly bulge, Cum swelling, Knotting, A little Aftercare but definitely not enough for what you’ve been through - Any more lemme know!!

✧ Author Note ✧ Ohhh bbg thank you for the request, I’ve got a lil something for ya ~ ALSO my first time writing for someone that isn’t a Sebby character but @buckys-wintersoldier will tell you I have been OBSESSED with this man, I’ve written so many little drabbles about him and annoyed her with them 🤭🤭

✧ Word Count ✧ 799

Skirting about the palace halls unseen is virtually impossible when you’re 7ft tall. Yet Ari does it effortlessly. Each night since you invaded his cottage some time ago, professing your name and title he’s come for a piece of you. And every time he’s left you writhing underneath him.

You slipped on the silk sleep gown, sighing satisfyingly at the feeling of it draping down over your bare ass before slipping under your heavy sheets. Your eyes tugged downwards with sleep when the soft nocking has them snapping open again.

You should’ve been more embarrassed at the feeling of your slick arousal coating the tiny gusset of your thin panties. Behind the door, in all his glory was The Beast. Or as you’d come to find he preferred, Ari.

You’d heard stories of Ari from when you were a wee one “Don’t go into the cottage in the woods” this and “there is a hideous creature who calls that place home, people who have gone seeking it have not returned” that. You didn’t think the man eyeing you like prized venison was ugly at all, he was huge; his thin shirt ripped and ragged, barely covering his corded muscles each time he moved a little, the coarse hair over his chest and arms making your mouth dry.

Then there was that thing between his legs. You didn’t think you could ever go back to another man after Ari had plunged himself into you the first time, almost splitting your hungry snatch in two. That definitely wasn’t ugly.

✧ ✧

“Ari! Ari Ari” you moaned like a madman, hips pushing back to meet every one of the beast’s delightfully hard thrusts, tears flowing down your cheeks. His huge hand clapped over your mouth, thumb running up and down the bridge of your nose soothingly.

“Gotta be quiet little queen, don’t want the king to hear you” he snarled, sharp canines nicking the stretched skin of your neck as he pulled your face back.

For someone so concerned about your father hearing you both he certainly didn’t care about the loud squeaking of your thick mahogany bed, the headboard thumping dents into the wall it rested on. No, it was his beastly nature to have full control over you, that meant subduing your noises when he saw it fit.

Every time his thick, heavy cock pulled out a stream of your juices squirted onto the steadily soaking sheets, your walls singing at the small reprieve before squealing again when he speared it back in. Your cervix was most definitely bruised, the pain was almost too much for you to bear each time his plush tip kissed it.

“Aughh little queen, nothing but a village whore for your beast’s cock. What would your kingdom say when I pumped that belly full of cum, giving you my cubs…mmm shit squeezing me, you want your belly swollen because of me?” He groaned animalistically, his free hand pressing down into your tummy. His pace slowed for a second, a whimpering sound falling from his lips before he pulled you up into his chest, his paw for a hand grabbing your clenched one and pressing it to where he just had.

When you felt it you came undone, his head poking against your belly each time he sunk in; it was too much, far too much to hold back.

“Mmm flower you’re milking me, you like the feeling of me in there? So deep in that little body…fuck…oh little Queen beg for my come, beg for it inside that little womb” Ari’s voice wavered, his thrusts increasing to an almost impossibly fast pace and leaving you almost completely dumb with overstimulation.

“Want you cum Ari…fuckfuckfuck! Please Ari need you to swell me up please please ahhhh” you screamed, uncaring of volume as you came again with Ari, your vision going white as he held your body still, strumming your little clit as he filled you.

His hand moved with yours, running it over your now swollen tummy. His knot sitting thick and heavy at your entrance stopping any of his thick cream from slipping out.

He lay you on your side, his heavy body plastered on your back, his lips kissing up your neck before licking at your ear.

“Good little queen, all swollen with beast’s essence, make adorable babies…keep you to myself and make sure my queen is happy for the rest of her life” Ari mumbled, his settling finally and his arms holding you tighter.

You weren’t sure how much of it Ari meant, was it just talk from his high or was he planning on giving you everything he proclaimed? You weren’t sure and you were too dumb to think right now, but the thought of living in his small cottage away from the limelight, having his babies. It made you safe.

✧ ✧

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except on this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs & Likes are always appreciated. They let me know that you are enjoying what you read and give me motivation to write more

Thank you for reading~

[elixirfromthestars]

Tangled Up In You

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader

Summary: When you and Steve get tasked with decorating the living room of the Avengers Compound, it seems like the perfect opportunity to spend some time with your crush. However, a certain tangled mess of lights would prove to make decorating a bit more difficult than you had anticipated.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff. established nickname -> angel

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> putting up christmas lights isn't as easy as it looks

a/n: And the secret is out! ₊˚⊹☆ This little winter drabble event was started because I wanted to do some gift giving for the holiday season. ˚୨୧⋆｡ So this fluffy fic is my holiday gift to you my dear Jo!! @neverthatsirius-jo ♡ I know how much you adore Steve, so I knew I had to write something for him just for you!! Thank you for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

main masterlist ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆

You grumble an incoherence under your breath, stepping back and looking at the piles of cardboard boxes littering the living room of the Avengers Compound. Each one is filled with various holiday decorations you and Steve have been “tasked” adorning the living room with. 

Last night, during the team’s weekly game night, it was decided that the two people who lost the most games by the end of the night would be stuck with the responsibility of decorating the only undecorated room left in the Compound—the living room. 

Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately for you—you and Steve were the two losers of the night. You didn’t mind having to decorate on your day off, and you certainly didn’t mind spending the afternoon with Steve. He was one of your closest friends—a friend you have been secretly crushing on for months. You were hoping that this time together could help you muster up the courage to finally ask him out on a date.

Fingers crossed that, unlike last night, luck would be on your side when asking him. 

While Steve brought in the remaining boxes from the storage room, you were going through each of the cardboard boxes to try and get an idea of what you had to work with. This was your first holiday season at the Compound, so you didn’t have last year's decor to reference back on.

You make your way over to one of the larger cardboard boxes, one whose height goes up to your waist. You notice the word lights scribbled on the side of it in black permanent marker before you open it. Inside, as you expected, are an abundance of Christmas lights. All an extensive tangled web of cords and bulbs. You couldn’t tell how many sets of lights were inside, but you did know whoever stored them previously did so without a care in the world. Now, they were left in a mangled knot you’d have to find the patience to undo.

Maybe luck wasn’t on your side today…

You huff as you begin pulling the strands of lights out of the box. Your eyes go wider by the second as they appear to be never-ending. Almost as if you were pulling the lights from a magician’s hat, yards upon yards of string poured out. It made you wonder if Wanda had enchanted the box for it to have been able to fit so much.

By the time the box was empty, you were in the midst of the pile of lights, carefully trying to make a path by sweeping the cords on the ground with your foot. This backfires on you quickly as the cords end up around your ankles. When you try to free them, your wrists somehow end up joining in on the vine-like restriction.

The pattern of you trying to free yourself from the web of lights only to end up getting more entrapped by them continues until you can no longer discern where you start and where the lights end. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the ridiculous situation you have gotten yourself into.

“I think there’s only—” Steve's words freeze in midair along with himself as he walks into the living room and sees the predicament you’re in. The Christmas lights cover you from head to toe as if you had been decorating yourself in them. His eyes sparkle with amusement, but he keeps his lips in a tight line to stop himself from laughing. 

“Y/n, how did you…?”

“Please help.” 

Embarrassment bubbles within every ounce of you—to say the least—and with no dignified explanation of how you got like this, you look everywhere but at Steve. Staring intently at the ground when he sets down the boxes in his arms and carefully makes his way over to you. 

“I think you took out the lights Tony used last year to outline the roof. That’s why there’s so many of them,” Steve explains kindly as a way to make you feel better, delicately pulling at the lights around your body to find the ones easiest to take off of you first. Your eyes slowly make their way to meet his baby blue ones. Your embarrassment melts away at the gentle way he’s staring at you—no judgment in sight. However, you don’t miss the way the corners of his lips twitch as he holds back a smile.

“You can laugh, it's okay. This is pretty funny.”

“I’m not going to laugh at you, angel.” 

“Laugh with me then.”

The nickname he uses only for you is enough to bring a smile to your face, but when a few light chuckles leave his lips at your permission—your smile widens until your soft laughter joins his.

What happens next will forever be unexplainable to both of you. Somehow, in the midst of trying to untangle you, the string of lights find themselves around Steve’s chest constricting his movement. You try to help him, but you’re not in the best position to. So from here on out, you go back and forth trying to help one another only to end up enveloped further by the lights. 

You both laugh it off until you realize how close the lights have tangled you to each other. If you step any closer you’d be pressed up against Steve, the mere possibility sends your heart racing. Your nerves get the better of you, attempting to step back only to almost slip backward if it weren’t for Steve reaching out to catch you before you did. 

Ultimately, pressing you up against him so you wouldn’t fall. 

“You alright, angel?” He asks you tentatively, scanning you over as if you had fallen. 

You nod slowly, the words getting caught in your throat at his proximity. The scent of his cologne, an earthy spice that is mixed with something that is entirely him fills your senses, causing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter dreamily.

Your eyes gravitate to his lips and when they do his breath hitches. Your gaze shoots up to meet his and in his pretty blues you swear you see the same desire you hold. 

You’re dying to kiss him, and you think he is too.

Steve’s eyes lock on your lips, and that’s all the confirmation you need to gather the courage to pull him in for a kiss. It starts hesitant, yet sweet, both of you testing the waters of what it feels like to kiss one another. It doesn’t take long for Steve to deepen the kiss, wanting to pour his feelings for you out in the open. The dilemma of the lights is long forgotten as the kiss consumes all of your thoughts. 

The snapping sound of a phone camera isn’t enough to break the kiss, but the flash that follows it is. You look over to see Bucky smirking proudly at the sight of his best friend kissing you and Sam making fun of Bucky for not knowing how to take a photo without the flash on. 

“Seriously, you two?” Steve shakes his head at his friends, his cheeks rosy with a hint of bashfulness at the way his best friends are acting. You can feel your face getting hot as well, knowing there was no way you were ever going to live down getting tangled up in Christmas lights with Steve. 

As for the picture of the kiss…you were definitely going to ask Bucky for a copy later.

When you tune back into their conversation, Sam has a shit-eating grin on his face, “You should make that this year's Christmas card.” 

“Sam!”

You giggle at Sam’s teasing and at Steve’s attempt at scolding him. Steve seems mortified until he notices the way you don’t seem to mind the teasing. He stares at you with a fond expression, wanting more than anything to be alone with you again.

“Don’t you two have chores to do? Y/n and I are kind of busy here,” Steve motions to the web of lights that cover you and him from head to toe. Despite that, the twinkle of mischief in Sam’s eyes tells you he’s not done with either of you yet. 

“Kissing or decorating?”

“Sam!”

After a few more rounds of teasing that leave Steve wondering when the earth will swallow him whole, Sam and Bucky finally retreat—leaving him alone with you once more.

“I’m sorry about that. I’ll make it up to you angel—I promise,” Steve apologizes to you, an endearing embarrassment on his features. You shake your head with a soft smile, intending to tell him not to worry about it until an idea pops into your head. 

“How about you make it up to me tomorrow? We can check out that new coffee place down on Orchard if you’d like,” you suggest, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you await his answer. He lights up at your suggestion, “I’d love to. It’s a date then?” That last part comes out as a whispered question, wondering if you’d see it the same way he did. 

“It’s a date,” you confirm, moving against the restricting lights enough to place a soft kiss on his cheek. 

So it seems luck was on your side all along after all.

[revelboo]

Creeping in with a spice request..what other bots might use restraints in the berthroom? We definitely know tfp soundwave does.

But I was also having a wandering mind with other possibilities. Prowl..tfp megs...maybe jazz...def Es soundwave I definitely remember his tie job with those extension cables 👀

Oooh shibari/restraint fun…

Restraint Headcanons/Scenarios

18+ Mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Prowl

• “Don’t you dare!” Laughing despite yourself as you struggle against the weird harness he’s wrapped you up in, your arms and torso bound, loops hooking around your thighs and crisscrossing you. And your eyes drift up to the length of chain dangling from the ceiling and the hook at the end. Wiggling when he hauls you up and there’s a moment of discomfort as he adjusts the harness. “Prowl,” you protest, giggling as you spin in a lazy circle, snarled in the loops and knots of soft rope. “What if I changed my mind?”

• “Have you?” He asks, head tipping as he moves around you and checks the harness. Making sure you’re comfortably suspended. Circling back in front of you, his servos slide against your inner thigh, the harness keeping you pinned and spread wide for him. “All you have to do is ask.” And he’ll let you down eventually, servos stroking you and watching you arch and wiggle what little bit you can. Bound and helpless. “Do you want me to stop?” Pressing a servo inside you, he growls. Despite your protests, you’re slick already.

• And he’s leaning forward to vent against you as he thrusts that servo deep, curling it. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” Moaning a protest when he slips his servo free and releases his spike. Figuring out exactly why he’d called this a punishment for you being a brat when he grips your hips and slowly pulls you forward, his spike stretching you. And you can’t really move, arms bound and thighs spread wide. Watch his optics shutter as he groans and begins to use the harness, swinging you to meet his thrusts. Toes curling and head thrown back as his hips snap against yours. Completely at his mercy.

ES Soundwave

• In hindsight, provoking him on purpose might not have been your best plan, but you love the repercussions. Wriggling as he hooks an arm around you and ties your wrists with some of the stupid extension cord he’d apparently saved just for this, your breath wheezes out of when he bends your hips up trying to grab your bound wrists when you yank them over your head. Making you realize one of your legs is over his hip, the other against his shoulder. And his spike is right there against you. Hear his snarl, feel the way he shudders as he comes to the same realization.

• Gripping your hips, he buries himself inside you, stretching you in a deep drive and you moan, squirming. “Wait,” you gasp when he begins to move, hips pumping against you. Making a note that you’re so tight this way, hips curled up and unable to get any leverage to move. Curling himself move over you, he pins your wrists with a hand and listens to your ragged cries. Begging him for more even as you squirm and try to escape him. “Soundwave.” Moving faster against you, hips pumping as you tighten even more. Lost in the wet sound of you taking his spikes and your moans.

TFP Megs

• Optics hooded as he tugs on your glittering leash just to make those eyes flash up at him, warm mouth sliding on his spike to make him dig the clawed servos of his other hand into the throne he’d demanded the Vehicons fashion him for when he’s mass displaced. Sprawled back on it, thighs spread, he watches your head bob on his spike, tongue sliding on him and he growls. That wet heat and suction, the feel of you palm on his thigh, the other gripping his spike too much, snarling as he comes apart and you jerk your head back, his release on your chin and body. And those indignant eyes, narrowing because he’d not warned you how close he was. Tugging gently on your leash until you stand so he can pull you into his lap across his thigh, he wipes your bottom lip clean and snarls when your tongue darts out to lick him. Servos sliding against your skin, gathering his wasted release and grinning at you as he presses that slick servo inside you, stroking to make you squirm.

ES Tarantulas

• “Dammit, Tarantulas,” you groan as you realize he’d webbed you again. Your arms and legs bound and spread as you hang facedown. And you can hear his chittering laughter before he moves into view under you, mandibles flexing. “You could just ask.” Not just do it while you’re asleep so you wake up dangling and helpless like prey.

• “Part of the allure is capturing you,” he murmurs, clawed servos tipping your face as his mandibles brushes your cheek and neck. His sharp denta grazing your skin as his glossa chases your pulse. “A side effect of this altmode.” Legs plucking at the web you’re trapped in, he shifts against you and you make a noise when he flips himself, nuzzling between your thighs, glossa stroking inside you. Feeling you bucking and wiggling what little you can as he settles in. Has no intention of letting you loose for a while, keeping you helpless and trapped whole he breeds you.

Jazz

• Laughing as you squirm, his hands grip your hips and move you on his spike. Sprawled back against the wall, with your wrists bound and hooked around his neck, his lips brush your sweat slicked neck. Feeling you begin to tremble and tighten on him again as he lazily rolls his hips. You’d stopped being able to do much besides whimpering incoherently after the third or fourth round. Those little noises coiling him tight as he groans. Hearing your little ragged cries as he shakily vents. Loves you like this, so messy and needy and at his mercy as he fills you again and again. Thinking about sparking you as you press your face into his neck and come apart on him, fisting his spike. Every round making it harder to resist that need.

[peachdues]

IN THE NETHERWOOD

2.5 NSFW ONESHOT ♤ KINKTOBER 2023

RED RIDING HOOD!READER X WEREWOLF!SANEMI

This is an absolutely filthy nasty smut scene that I have decided to cut from Part III of In the Netherwood. Part III is going to be long, so this is ultimately for the best, but I shan’t deprive you heathens of your monsterfucking tendencies.

Part III is still in the works but will feature Red Riding Hood!Reader fucking Sanemi in his full Wolf form.

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • knotting/mating • breeding • milking • Reader begs Sanemi to knock her up • possessive Sanemi • heat/discussions of heat

“Genya, fuck off,” Sanemi snarled, his arm tightening possessively around your waist.

You whipped your head toward the Huntsman, ready to give him the good verbal lashing he apparently needed, but the young boy smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, Aniki,” Genya rubbed the back of his neck. “I forgot.” 

“Don’t apologize,” you chastised the boy, gently. “It isn’t your fault your brother has lost all sense of decorum.” 

Genya flushed. “N-no, it’s not,” he stammered in agreement. “B-but you see — well, when a wolf takes a mate…”

The younger boy’s blush deepened to a near purple, his mouth opening and closing like a fish’s as he struggled to find the appropriate words.

Growling slightly under his breath, though more so in annoyance, Sanemi shifted himself behind you, pressing his hips against your backside. You felt his length, hard and throbbing against his breeches, as it dug sharply into your backside. 

Your mate’s silent explanation made your cheeks warm, and you wondered whether your blush matched Genya’s.  “Oh.” you managed to choke. 

Genya rocked awkwardly back on his feet. “I’ll come by later, Aniki,” he croaked. “Y/N,” he added, nodding at you though still unable to meet your eyes. 

The boy turned sharply on his heel, half-stumbling out of the small cottage in his haste to get away, proverbial tail tucked between his legs. 

The door had barely banged shut before Sanemi had you pressed up against the wall, hauling you up so that your legs had to wrap around his waist. 

“I shall explain in full later,” he promised, fingers ripping the cord out of your corset so he could yank it down along with your blouse, exposing your breasts. “But right now I need to claim.” 

“S-sure,” you stuttered, gasping as the Huntsman’s hot mouth closed around one of your mounds, his hands working to shove your skirts out of the way. One arm remained under your backside, keeping you propped up against the wall, as the other moved to shove his breeches just far enough down his hips to free his cock, already standing taut and ready to fill you. 

Sanemi did not warn you before plunging his rigid length deep into your walls, though you were surprised at how readily you took him, your cunt sucking him right in as though it too, had been waiting for him to remind you exactly whose mark you bore on your skin.

The Wolf nudged your head to the side with his nose so he could bury his face into the side of your neck, inhaling deeply. With a low growl, his tongue flicked out and caressed the crescent-shaped mating mark at the juncture between your neck and shoulder before he nipped lightly at your skin. 

“Mine,” he snarled. “You’re mine.” 

Despite being pinned against the wall by his hips, you managed to spread your thighs wider, opening yourself up further to allow Sanemi to pound into you without restraint, but he pulled away. 

You cried out at the sudden, cold emptiness you felt as Sanemi pulled out of you, leaving your core wildly clenching around nothing. The Huntsman soothed you with hot kisses against your throat, his thumbs rubbing circles into your outer thighs as he pivoted you away from the wall. 

Sanemi crossed the small room easily, making quick work in removing you of your skirts and corset. Once the last of your attire had been discarded upon the floor, he tossed you onto the delightfully plush bed standing against the middle of the wall, his gaze locked on the way your breasts bounced as you settled. 

Eyes lifting back to meet yours, he wrapped one hand around the base of his engorged length and pumped, the other shoving the waistband of his breeches down his hips and legs until he could kick them off. 

“On your knees.”

With excitement fluttering in your stomach, you complied, rolling to your front and balancing your weight on your spread knees, holding your rear high up in the air.

You looked over your shoulder back at your mate, eyes too wide and too innocent as you wiggled your hips at him in invitation. 

Despite having only been intimate with him for a few days, you already had a good read on what made the Wolf tick. 

And the best way was this — to beg for more while offering yourself up in total submission.

He may have been the Wolf, but you held his leash; and you knew exactly how to pull it to get what you wanted. Right then, you wanted him to fuck and fill you until your brain went numb, and your lower belly bloated with him — just like it had in the cave den. 

“Beautiful,” Sanemi crouched behind you, breathing in the scent of your musk. You moaned loudly as the Wolf’s tongue flattened against your leaking folds and dragged up, gathering your pleasure into his mouth.

His hands ran down the backs of your thighs, nails dragging lightly along your skin. “As much as I love when you hold yourself up high for me, I think I want try something new.” He purred, running his hot mouth up your spine. “Do you think you can handle that, Lamb?” 

You ground your hips against the feathery bed, nodding furiously. “Yes, Wolf. I can take whatever it is you give me.” 

“Sweet little thing,” Sanemi praised, his hands easing you flat against his — your — bed. “You’re such a good Lamb, always eager to take care of her Wolf.”

“Her mate,” you corrected, moaning into the blanket. 

Sanemi’s hands smoothed up the inside of your thighs as he pushed your legs wider apart, guiding them into a wide “v” spread across the bed.

 “My apologies, Lamb,” his fingers wound in your hair and pulled your head back, the Huntsman leaning over top you to graze his lips against yours, your neck straining and your throat utterly exposed. “You take such good care of your mate.” 

Sanemi released the hold he had on your hair, allowing your head to fall forward against the blankets. 

You felt him press his engorged tip flush against your entrance, the two of you hissing at the friction sparked as his member met your waiting, sensitive flesh. He nudged forward slightly, just past that first ring of tight muscle before stilling so he could get himself into position. 

Your legs were spread wide, but Sanemi stretched his even further, placing one knee on either side of yours where they laid flat against the bed. One muscled arm wound around your front, resting across your collarbone until his hand could grip your shoulder and the other went to wrap around your middle, his fingers digging slightly into the sensitive skin of your waist.

His torso was pressed flush against your back, every hard groove of his muscles pressing into each sensitive spot along your spine. With his teeth against your ear, Sanemi then allowed his body to relax, his weight pushing his cock in and in until the base of his groin was flat against the soft curve of your backside. 

“It is my duty as your Mate to make sure  I fill you up with pups,” his breath was hot against your ear and it made you shiver, the tremors cascading down your body going right to where you were joined, making the Wolf at your back rumble. 

“And that is a duty I take very seriously, little Lamb.”

“This position,” he grunted, rolling harder into you for emphasis. “Is said to ensure my seed takes in your womb.”

You moaned as Sanemi began to roll steadily into you, his cock so heavy and thick, you thought you could feel him in your chest. “Without your knot?” 

Sanemi laughed quietly, the darkness of the sound making you even wetter between your legs. “I don’t need my knot to fuck you full of my pups, Lamb.” He gave deep push of his hips, his cock prodding the spot inside you that made your toes curl and your mind blank. “I can fulfill that duty any time I want.”

Sanemi groaned, loudly. “But feel.”

He rolled his cock even harder and faster into you, and between the sticky taps of his heavy, full balls against your clit, you could feel the tell-tale shape of that hardened gland beginning to swell at Sanemi’s base. 

You gasped. “B-but — oh — I thought!” You choked off with another breathy sigh as the force of Sanemi’s movements made your body buck hard into the bed, the slightly stiff fabric of the quilts chafing against your peaked nipples and giving you much needed stimulation. 

Sanemi’s breath was ragged, little snarls and growls tearing from his throat in time with his deep thrusts. “Apparently my heat is not over,” he said thickly, arms tightening around you. “Not until I’ve bred you full.”

Your eyes rolled back at the term “bred.” Once upon a time, you would have balked at the idea of being treated as little more than breeding stock; you would have rebelled against it, fought it tooth and nail, even if it meant spending your life alone.

But the Wolf promising to fuck his own litter into you was different; he was your mate. You’d claimed him as much as he’d claimed you. 

And you loved him. 

And with that truth echoing in your mind, you lifted your face from where you’d buried it into the blankets. 

“Do it, Wolf — breed me!” You cried, hand flying behind you to tangle in his hair, desperate to find purchase in anything that could tether you to reality the faster your mate brought you closer to heaven. “Give me your children — your pups!“ 

A cross between a growl and a groan tore free from Sanemi’s throat, his arms almost painfully tight around you as his hips rolled faster and harder against you, his balls slapping lewdly against your soaked cunt. 

Your thighs burned as Sanemi’s weight spread them even further apart as he bore down hard against your back. The fat of your ass jiggled with every lurid, deep roll of his hips, his pace increasing as his climax drew closer. 

You thought back to the night you’d spent in the cave den; how it felt to feel him unload rope after rope of his hot, thick seed deep into your womb, so much so that it couldn’t help but drip down your thighs.

You needed it; more than anything, you needed to feel his claim over you, hot and sweet and him. 

“Sanemi, please!” You thought you might die if he didn’t fill you up, if he didn’t push that aching knot inside you to lock his hot, rich seed deep within your womb. 

You felt his teeth sink into the side of your neck, his responding growl deep and vicious. 

Your cunt seized around him with a force that made you scream as you approached the precipice of your release. “My love — please!” 

Sanemi’s eyes flew open as the words my love left your mouth, and with a snarl, he pressed you deeper against the mattress, fucking into you so hard, your breath choked out in broken, strangled gasps.

Two sharp, bruising thrusts later and the Huntsman erupted. 

With a roar, Sanemi shoved his cock as deep as it could go, the hardened member pulsing as you felt the first rush of his pleasure begin to fill you.

Your eyes rolled back into your head and your walls clenched down, keeping him still as your own climax slammed into you with dizzying force. Some choked, broken sound stuttered its way out of your throat, the corners of your mouth turning up in pleasured delirium, satisfied to finally be given what you’d so desperately begged for. 

Still lost in the rolling waves of your euphoria, you felt the hard lump of Sanemi’s knot push against your entrance. Your cunt resisted at first, too busy gripping Sanemi’s twitching length like a vice, but he persisted. With a grunt, Sanemi nudged the knot in and sighed as your walls finally gave way, allowing him to lock his cock — and the seed still spilling from him — deep inside you. 

Your hand blindly felt behind you for him, patting its way to his hip. Weakly, you pulled him harder against you, as though every ounce of his weight was not already seared into your skin as he pressed you deeper into the mattress. 

It still wasn’t close enough; you didn’t think it ever would be. 

The heavy, ragged sounds of your mutual breathing was interrupted only by the occasional soft moan from the wolf behind you as his seed continued to fill you. Eventually, your thighs began to tremble from the strain of having been spread wide, but the way Sanemi was positioned over you, knees on either side of yours, his shins pressed against the back of your calves, kept you from being able to close them. 

You whimpered into the bed, legs vibrating from the strain. 

“I know, sweetling,” Sanemi said roughly. “Just hold on a little longer.” 

A low whine escaped from your throat. “Sanemi — I can’t-“

The Wolf rolled his hips against your backside and you squealed at the slight burn of his knot tugging against your walls.

“Yes you can, Lamb,” his head dipped into the crook of your shoulder to pepper the side of your neck with wet kisses. “You can take it. You’re my mate — my girl.” 

His praise sent a flurry of butterflies rippling through your stomach and made the walls of your spent cunt flutter and clench around his aching length once more.

“Fuck,” Sanemi groaned against your skin, dragging his tongue over the back of your neck before nipping at you. “Fuck, don’t do that Lamb — not unless you want me to keep going.”

Your hips involuntarily twitched as your muscles tightened around him once more. “I can’t — ngh — help it,” you couldn’t stop the whine in your tone, but nor could you be embarrassed by it. “F-feels too good.”

Your muscles continued to spasm around the Wolf’s pulsating length, and the coil in your gut built fast.

“Y/N—“ came Sanemi’s warning growl, but it was too late.

“I-I’m!” It was all you could choke out at your cunt seized around him like a vice. Your scream of pleasure was muffled by the blanket you sucked into your mouth to quiet yourself. Your third climax of the night rocked through you with earth-shattering strength, and a gush of fluid surged forth from between your legs, soaking your groin and the bed below you. 

Behind you, Sanemi whimpered, the sound strangled and uncharacteristically high. Whether it was intentional or purely reflexive, Sanemi began canting his hips against your rear, his dwindling knot still causing your muscles to stretch and pull. 

Your muscles continued to clench and flutter around Sanemi’s length, causing you to reach yet another climax before you were hissing at the over-sensitivity between your legs. After a long while, the knot locking Sanemi within your molten heat finally eased, and the Huntsman withdrew, exhaling through clenched teeth.

The weight at your back disappeared, and you fell into the mattress, your limbs unable to hold you upright any longer. 

For a moment, there was no sound but your mutual ragged panting, as both of you sought to catch your breath. Before long, a warm, calloused hand gripped your hip and gingerly flipped you over. 

“You,” Sanemi accused shakily, though any threat in his tone was undercut by the softness of his expression. “You are an utter menace, Lamb.”

[armory-rasa]

COUCH POUCH!! Free Pattern & Tutorial

...called thus because they use upholstery-weight leather for the bag body, that in my case was in fact skinned off a couch. 🤣 Turns out they are relatively quick and easy to make, so I tidied up the pattern for printing and took pictures to document the process when I made another five of them.

First off, print your pattern, 100% scale:

The bag shape was a modified version of the pattern I used for the Morpheus sandbag, but sized to fit in the roughly 11" squares that my couch skin came in. It makes a bag that sits very well on a tabletop, thanks to the flat base.

Though it turned out to not be the most efficient use of material, because that plus-shaped pattern tessellates well, if you're cutting them out of a full hide, but makes a lot of waste when you're cutting them out of squares of material. A more efficient design would have a half-rounded front and back, and a gusset between them, like so:

Ah well. It's not like I have any shortage of couch skin, though for the next round I'm going to experiment with a more efficient pattern.

First step, trace and cut out the bag body from your chrome-tan leather:

Like I said, this was upholstery leather, but anything that's flexible and ~1.5 mm thick will do.

The flap and front need to be a stiffer leather though -- I used 7 oz latigo, but veg-tan would work equally well. (And then you could ✨tool it!✨)

Cut them out, and then use the pattern to mark where your holes are going to be. Mark the holes on your bag body too:

The latigo pieces get hand-stitched to the bag body, so I used a stitching groover to carve out little channels for the thread -- it's not strictly necessary, but it makes your stitches lay a lot more neatly:

Punch the holes shown below:

I used a ~5 mm hole punch for those, and a 1.5" slot punch for the belt loops. Some of the holes on the front piece you're not punching yet, because they need to go through both layers.

I put a dab of contact cement on the pieces (circled in white) to help hold them in place when I go to punch the stitching holes:

(Make sure you're not putting glue between the belt loops)

Wait fifteen minutes for the contact cement to dry until tacky, and then line up the holes and the edges and press the pieces together:

Punch stitching holes:

Saddle-stitch both pieces in place (takes 28" of thread per):

Now you can punch these holes:

(I used a slightly smaller hole punch than for the others, but it doesn't really matter.)

Now press the right sides of the leather together and sew up the seams from the inside:

A regular sewing machine should be able to handle this, though you will need thicker thread, a heavy-duty leather-sewing needle, and a walking foot attachment. (If you don't have a walking foot attachment, it is SO WORTH getting one, even if you don't expect to sew much leather. Seriously, I use it for everything -- once you go walking foot, you don't go back. 💀) Because you can't pin leather without leaving permanent holes in it, tiny binder clips can be helpful for keeping your material lined up.

What they look like when you're finished sewing:

Cut 19" of lacing for the drawstring, and 11" of lacing for the toggle:

I use the 1/8" EcoSoft lace from Tandy, I think it's stronger than real leather would be at that thickness. The only important factor here is that you need something with a bit of texture and friction -- a silk cord isn't going to stay closed, it's going to slip open.

MANY BAGS.

For these I used a wooden toggle -- cut another 8" of lacing, looped it through the toggle twice, and then made a tight square knot on the back:

But another option is putting a concho or a large button on the flap. The bag I copied this design from, in fact, uses a concho toggle:

Thread some beads on the laces to keep the ends from getting lost, and you are DONE! 😁

Happy Bagging!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Long Snake Moan 7

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you’re not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Loki’s hands frame your face, his long fingers cradling from chin to temple. You groan and tilt your head back against his touch. You’ve never felt anything so candescent. You are absolutely feral. 

You latch onto the lap of his jacket and push it back on his shoulders. You elicit a noise somewhere between a whine and a growl. His green eyes spark as his smirk deepens. He nuzzles your nose with a snicker. Your scent radiates from him. 

“Oh, wife, can’t you wait until we get home?” He taunts. 

You continue to clutch and claw at his clothing. He doesn’t stop you. He seems to bask in your urgent assault. That both agitates and addles you. 

“Why-- what?” You stutter the questions that can’t weave themselves through your maddened need.  “Mmmmmmmmgh,” you drone as his jacket drops to the floor.

You yank on his tie and the knot tightens as he coughs. He chuckles and helps free the slender strip of silk. 

“My, my, I’d not expect this of you, darling,” he cloys. 

“St-stop!” You tell yourself as much as him. Your hands cup his muscles chest through his shirt as your eyes round at how the fabric clings. You squeeze and snarl as your teeth snag on your lip. 

“Oh, do stop, darling. You are an absolute animal,” he slithers. 

His first button catches and a surge quakes through you. It pops free of the thread and scatters across the office. He stands staunch against your tugging as you make your way down the front of his shirt, uncovering his torso as your voice trickles out in strangled squeaks and squalls. 

You peel the shirt down his arms then trail up the muscles, along to his biceps as your gaze clings to him. No thought passes through your head before you lean in to sink your teeth into the firm flesh of his chest. He winces but doesn’t pull away. You want him so bad. 

Your hands curls around his belt and he reaches down to free his buckle. The clink triggers you and you wrench on his pants desperately. You whimper and look up at him. Your insides hurt. You need the relief of him inside of you. You bite into your lip and growl. 

“You are a delight, aren’t you?” He tickles along your cheek and your snap at his fingers. 

Finally, you get his pants down. Your knuckles brush against his rigid length and you gulp. You pull back to look down at him and gasp. He’s... 

“Yes, yes, your mortal men cannot compare,” he boasts. 

Before you can react, he has you around your hips. He hauls you off your feet and puts you flat on the desk. You cry out as he bends your legs high, until the muscles strain in the back of your thighs. With your knees near your chest, you feel your body lock in place. You turn your hand back and forth as eerie green cords wind around your ankles. 

What the heck?

He swipes his fingers between your folds as his other hand crawls up your blouse. He pushes the fabric above your chest and gropes you through your bra. He snarls and the fabric beneath his touch disappears. The heat of his flesh seeps into you just as quickly as the concern for the missing garment dissipates to the plucking lust in your core. 

You claps onto his wrist and pull his hand up. With his other, he frames your cunt, his fingers slick with your juices. He looks down as he angles to hook his tip between his knuckles and prods at you. You murmur and squeeze his arm. 

He inches into you as you warble out in relief. The ache of emptiness recedes as he gets deeper and deeper. You drag his hand to your mouth and suck on his fingers as he bottoms out. You moan and bite down. He snarls and thrusts his hips so you twitch. 

“Mm,” he closes his eyes and tilts his head as his features strain. 

His pleasure fuels you. You arch your back as his hand trails up from your cunt and he once more kneads your naked chest, your blouse rumbled above. He rocks, long and slow, and your voices mingle in a long wail. Your legs tense in their binds, kept bent and tight as your toes scrunch. 

He curls his fingers down and presses on your tongue. He finds his tempo as he flutters his hand along your stomach and stretches it across your pelvis. He pushes his thumb against your clit, holding it there as the pressure blooms and laces within. You cling to his wrist and reach with your other hand to touch his stomach, feeling the corded muscle beneath his skin as he ruts. 

“Mmm, darling,” he angles your head up and slips his hand free of your mouth, his thumb and index framing your face, “that’s it. I believe...” he snarls as his flesh claps against yours. “Right... there.” 

Your lashes flick as you try to focus on him through the haze. A green tint softens the edges of your vision as he seems to glow. Your eyes loll back as his gaze focuses above you. You lean into his hand as you search along the ceiling. 

The cameras! 

Fear pulses in your chest but cannot curtail the raging flow of lust. You whine but don’t stop him. You can’t. Your body twines around his desperately. He can’t stop, not so close. His fingers roll over your clit as he plunges deeper and deeper, pounding into your guts.  

You flail and press your hand over his as he rubs your clit furiously. Your clutch at your chest at the same time and writhe with him, begging for more. 

“Say it,” her snarls. 

You babble and pout at him with wide eyes. 

“Say my name,” he growls. 

“Loki!” You shriek without pause, “Loki, please!” 

You spasm and sputter as a violent wave batters you. Your walls squeeze him, twitching greedily, and your muscles quake as you cum again. You heave shallowly as your nails sink into the tender flesh of your chest and your hand bounces over his. 

“That’s it, darling, that’s it,” he coos, “as I said, I am a god in all ways.” 

[savannahsdeath]

hii i love ur stories, and i was wondering if you could do a one-shot where ellie won't admit it, but she LOVES being a sub and just listening to you 🫣

SUB!TOP!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! sub!top!ellie, oblivious!reader, making out, a liiiitttleee of thigh reading, js smut

writers note: im a sucker for dom!ellie but my first req was sub!ellie and now it just has a separate place in my brain.. yeah, i need both. switch!ellie lover i guess💪💪 also this ones sub!top!ellie because im soooo in love w her like awshhzhsv

you always saw ellie as the firm, rough and confident one. as the 'don't tell me what to do' one. and definitely the straight-forward one. you wouldn't even think it's the complete otherwise, especially not while grinding on her lap. your lips were connected for a few minutes now, and everytime you pulled away to catch your breath a line of saliva built a bridge between you. you were needy, ellie desperate and the whole situation really messy. quite a combo.

"ellie..." you whined after freeing your tongue.

she pulled you back into her, holding onto the back of your neck. "what is it, doll?"

"mhh-" a week sound escaped your mouth, as you struggled to calm down and not act as if you just ran a marathon (because you didn't, of course, but that's how you felt). "touch me..."

you didn't realize she kept her hands only on your head because she was shy. you never thought she could be shy at all. your request, though, awakened something in her. she hungrily slid her slim fingers beneath your shirt, where they rubbed soothing shapes into your skin.

"like that?" she laughed, or at least you guessed she did, because the sensations made it hard for you to tell.

your answer was a one word, but a keyword. "more."

with that, her hands unfastened your bra and threw it somewhere on the ground. she turned you around, making you lean your back on her chest. your shirt covered the scene - her playing with your hard nipples, that didn't feel so sensitive until now. her hair fell on your face, slightly covering it, as she bowed her head to kiss your neck. your pussy sent a needy impulse through the rest of your body, signaling you this is what you needed, before the pulsating changed it's message to a 'not enough'. ellie seemed to notice it, and one of her hands untied the knot of your cute pyjama-shorts. the elastic at your hips widened to make room for her hand, and it carefully slipped underneath the waistband, though stayed on top of your underwear. she followed the wet path with her middle finger, arriving to it's source. she didn't put any pressure onto your body, leaving you unsatisfied.

"please- please, do it." you nodded, fighting the urge to press her hand towards you.

she was more than happy to do it, her hand avoiding now also your panties and making contact with your bare body. you shuddered at the coldness she brought with her, but things quickly got heated.

your head found support in her shoulder, resting on it, as her pointing finger rubbed your clit and the next two lazily waited at your entrance, collecting everything that came out of it.

"do you want me to do it?" she asked. it wasn't the taunting, teasing, playful tone. it was a concerned, shy and hesitating one. one you weren't used to hear from her.

you frowned, wiping your wet, drooled mouth with the palm of your hand. "are you... really asking me that?" you wanted to add '...or am i dreaming?' but that was too much for you now, and your throat refused to work.

"i only want to do things you want me to do." she whispered, sounding almost ashamed about admitting that.

she continued the trail of sappy little kissed on your neck, somewhere where the vocal cords are, and you thought that's the main reason they're not working.

you couldn't hide your surprise but stayed quiet, though not really by choice. she thanked god you couldn't feel her own wet spot, which was probably bigger than yours and still growing each time you asked her to do something for you. even if your commands weren't out of your dominance, even if you had no idea how they turn her on, she only waited for you to ask for more, or less, anything would satisfy her, as long as she can satisfy you.

[jetii]

Mischief and Mistletoe

Pairing: Jesse x fem!Reader

Words: 2,689

Tags/Warnings: fluff, first kiss, general holiday merriment, brotherly shenanigans

Summary: You're determined to throw the best Life Day party the 501st could ever imagine. Jesse has other plans.

A/N: My gift to @ghostofskywalker for the @cloneficgiftexchange Life Day 2024! This is my first time participating in any sort of gift exchange, and it was a fun challenge to go outside of what I usually write. Hope you enjoy, and thank you so much Ghost for all your hard work hosting these events. Happy holidays! 💙

“What are you doing?”

You gasp, the garland in your hand slipping from your grasp as you teeter on the edge of the ladder. It takes all your focus not to tumble backwards, and when you finally right yourself, you look down to see a smirking Jesse staring up at you.

You sigh, rolling your eyes as you finish wrapping the garland around the doorway. It's a delicate task, one that you've been painstakingly working on for the last hour, and Jesse's sudden appearance has almost caused you to ruin it. You climb down, brushing past him as you make your way to the center of the room.

The holiday season is approaching, and as the only non-clone, non-Jedi, festivity-enjoyer on base, you've decided to take it upon yourself to spread some holiday cheer. You've spent the last few days gathering decorations and supplies, and now, as you start to put up the finishing touches, you can't help but feel a little excited. You just wish Jesse could understand the joy that the holidays bring.

He follows you, a smirk still etched on his face as he leans against the wall. "Life Day, huh?"

"Yup."

"What's the point?”

"The point is it's fun." You're not going to let Jesse ruin this. This is your project, and you'll be damned if his Grinch-like attitude keeps you from enjoying yourself. "Look, just...go back to whatever you were doing."

“Nah.” Jesse shakes his head, pushing himself off the wall as he moves toward you. You don’t have to look at him to know he still has that stupid grin on his face. He's enjoying this. Enjoying the fact that he's ruining your holiday fun. You hate him. Well, you don't, but right now, you really wish you did.

"I'm serious, Jesse. If you're not going to help, just leave me alone,” you mutter as you open a box and pull out a strand of lights. It’s tangled, a result of your haste to pack it away last year, and you huff, struggling to free the knot.

"Alright, alright," Jesse laughs. You glare at him as he reaches over, easily untangling the cord before handing it to you. You grumble a thanks as you begin wrapping the strand around a fake tree. "How's this supposed to work again?"

"What do you mean? Just plug it in,” you say, pointing to the nearby outlet. Jesse rolls his eyes.

“I mean, like, the Life Day part. How does it go?" You look at him, confused, and he shrugs. "You know, what are we supposed to do? What are the rules?"

"There are no rules. Just hang out and eat and drink and have fun,” you tell him, reaching for another string of lights. Jesse grabs them before you can, and you give him a pointed look. "Jesse, what are you doing?"

"You said I had to either help or leave, so...I'm helping,” he says with a shrug. "Just show me where to put these."

You shake your head, still not understanding why he's suddenly so interested in helping you decorate. You decide not to question it, though, and instead point him to the next tree. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you continue hanging decorations, and you can't help but smile to yourself. You're surprised by how well Jesse's taken to this. He looks cute, his brow furrowed as he works, and you find yourself staring at him, mesmerized by the way the lights reflect off his armor. 

He looks up suddenly, and you quickly turn away, hoping he didn't notice you. When you finally work up the courage to glance back at him, he's still looking at you, an amused grin on his face. You flush, ducking behind the tree as you continue hanging ornaments.

With Jesse’s help, you finish decorating the common room in no time, and when the final touch, a sprig of mistletoe, is hung, you can't help but feel a surge of pride. You smile, hands on your hips as you take a step back to admire your handiwork.

"Not bad," Jesse says, bumping his hip against yours. “What’s with the plant, though?"

"Oh, the mistletoe? It's tradition. You have to kiss whoever you end up standing under it with."

He blinks, glancing at the plant before looking back at you. "Oh, uh...is there a rule about who's allowed to kiss, or can anyone kiss anyone?"

"Anyone can kiss anyone," you say, confused.

Jesse nods slowly, his gaze lingering on you. "Interesting..."

You raise an eyebrow, and he simply smiles. You can practically see the wheels turning in his head, and you have a feeling that, whatever he's planning, it's not good. You decide not to dwell on it, though, and instead, you step through the doorway, a bright smile on your face as you turn to look at him.

"I need to go check with the mess, but I’ll see you tonight, okay?” you tell him, and he nods. "Don’t let anyone else touch anything until then, alright?"

"I’ll guard it with my life, sir," Jesse jokes, and you shake your head.

"I mean it, Jesse," you say, a warning in your tone. You know how some of the men can get. If left unattended, they'll destroy your hard work in seconds. You want everything to be perfect, and that means keeping everyone else away from it until the party. "Everything has to be perfect. I--"

"Hey, don't worry," he cuts you off, his expression softening as he gives you a reassuring smile. "It will be. I promise."

You nod, returning his smile before you turn on your heel, a bounce in your step.

"Thank you," you call over your shoulder. "For helping."

"Anything for you," Jesse calls after you. His voice is loud, echoing in the empty hallway, and your heart races. You know he's joking. He's always like that. Flirty. It doesn't stop you from blushing, though, and as you walk away, you can't stop the smile from creeping across your face.

Your party is a success. There are more people than you expected, but the common room is filled with a warm glow and the smell of fresh pine and spiced wine. The food is great, the music is playing softly in the background, and best of all, everyone's having a good time.

Everyone except you, apparently.

You're not sure what it is that's gotten into the boys, Fives and Hardcase in particular, but you've had barely a moment of peace since you started the party. Every time you manage to slip away, they're there, dragging you into another conversation or another drinking game, herding you around the room like a lost pup. And if it's not them, it's someone else, always insisting on getting your opinion on something or pulling you into an impromptu dance. It's starting to get a little annoying.

The final straw is Kix, insisting the lights need adjusting. You know for a fact that they're perfect. You'd checked and double-checked every inch of the room before the party, and yet, here he is, practically begging you to come and help him. You're tempted to say no, to insist that he can handle it, but you know if you do, he'll just find some other way to bother you, so you reluctantly agree. You give him a pointed look, silently letting him know that this is the last thing he'll get from you, and then follow him across the room.

"Kix, they're fine. Seriously," you say, rolling your eyes as you watch him reach for a strand of lights. Your hand is faster, though, and you slap it away. Kix frowns, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he points to the string, motioning for you to move it.

"Just a little to the right, yeah, there. Perfect." He smiles, giving you a thumbs up. "Thanks. It looked like it was lopsided."

"Uh huh," you reply, unconvinced.

"What?"

"Kix, what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"You're a terrible liar."

"I'm not lying," Kix laughs, crossing his arms. He's not looking at you, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder. His eyes are darting around the room, and you can tell he's trying to act casual. "Just thought the lights needed fixing. That's all."

"No, they don't." 

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes. You're not buying his excuse, and the look on his face lets you know that he knows it. He's definitely hiding something. You look at him, waiting for him to explain, but he stays silent.

"Kix."

"What?"

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," Kix replies, a smile creeping across his face. It's an innocent smile, one that he knows will only serve to further pique your curiosity.

"Then why are you smiling?"

"I can't smile? I'm at a party," he points out, and you roll your eyes. "Okay, okay, I'm just...I'm just happy. And a little buzzed, I think. That wine's pretty strong."

"Fine, be that way," you mutter. Kix laughs, his smile growing wider.

"I will."

"Ugh. Fine, whatever." You shake your head, not wanting to argue with him. It's a waste of time. "I'll figure it out on my own, then."

"Fine," Kix chuckles, mimicking your tone, and you give him a dirty look before you turn and walk away.

You push your way through the crowd, mumbling apologies as you bump into people. You don't stop until you're safe in the kitchen, and once there, you lean against the counter, trying to calm yourself down. You're not mad, exactly, but the whole ordeal has left you a bit flustered, and as much as you want to go and enjoy the rest of the party, you're not sure that's going to be possible. Not with the boys constantly hovering around you.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you try to relax. A minute or two passes, and then a soft voice cuts through the silence.

"What are you doing?"

You open one eye, a groan escaping your lips as you turn to face the intruder. You're met with Jesse's cheeky grin, and you shake your head, laughing softly. 

You shouldn't be surprised that he's here, interrupting your peaceful moment, and yet, somehow, you are. He seems to be the only one who hasn't bothered you all night. It's odd, and if you're being honest, a little suspicious. 

The thought crosses your mind that he might be plotting something, but when he gives you a soft smile, all those worries seem to melt away. You smile back, taking a sip of your drink before answering him.

"Hiding."

"Why?" he asks, stepping into the room. He moves slowly, cautiously, and you can tell he's trying not to startle you. You appreciate the gesture, but his careful approach only serves to confuse you more.

He's acting strange, and while you've chalked it up to him just being his normal, flirty self, you're starting to think that there's more to it than that. He's too careful, his actions too deliberate. You don't know why, but you can't help but feel like he's got something planned. Something involving you.

"Because," you sigh. Jesse chuckles, taking a step closer, his hands behind his back.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. I just needed a break," you reply, running a hand through your hair. "The guys are...being weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah. They won't leave me alone."

"Really? Weird." Jesse nods, the corners of his mouth twitching. He's trying to act serious, but the look in his eyes tells a different story. There's mischief there, a gleam that only seems to intensify when he steps toward you. "That is strange. You think maybe they're up to something?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Kix was acting really weird earlier," you complain. "And Hardcase kept trying to get me to drink with him. Alone. In the hallway. And Fives..."

You trail off, your brow furrowing. It suddenly dawns on you that all the boys efforts have been focused on isolating you, moving you toward one part of the room in particular. They've been herding you like a bantha, and if that wasn't clear enough, the way they've all seemed to conveniently disappear now is.

Jesse's still staring at you, the same smile on his face, but his eyes are different. There's a softness in them, a tenderness that's never there when he's joking around. It's almost as if...almost as if...Oh.

Oh.

“Jesse…” you start slowly.

“What?” he asks, his eyes flicking across your face. “What did I do? What happened?"

"You did something incredibly stupid,” you sigh, shaking your head. Jesse furrows his brow, confused, and you sigh again. "You didn't have to do all of this. You could have just asked me."

"I didn't—" he starts, but then he stops, realizing that there's no point in denying it. 

You know exactly what he's been up to, and while you should be upset, you can't help but laugh. It's the sweetest, most ridiculous thing anyone's ever done for you, and Jesse's clearly proud of himself, if the smile on his face is anything to go by. 

He clears his throat, and when he speaks, his voice is softer, almost shy.

"So, I guess I don't need this anymore, huh?"

He pulls the sprig of mistletoe out from behind his back, holding it up over your head. You roll your eyes, a faint blush creeping across your cheeks as you step closer. Jesse smiles, his hand brushing against yours. His skin is warm, and when he takes your hand, pulling you close, you feel butterflies in your stomach. You take a deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent, and then, slowly, hesitantly, you stand on tiptoe, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek.

You're about to pull away when you feel his hand on your cheek. His touch is gentle, his thumb brushing against your skin. He's gazing at you, his eyes filled with affection, and without thinking, you lean forward, pressing your lips against his.

It's a chaste kiss, quick and sweet, and when you pull back, he's watching at you, a stunned expression on his face. You bite your lip, a nervous smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“You could’ve just kissed me, you know,” you murmur. Jesse grins, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close.

“Yeah?” he breathes.

“Yeah, I…” You lick your lips, and his eyes track the movement. “I would’ve liked that, actually.”

“Well, that’s good to know. For next time." Jesse leans in, kissing your forehead, and you laugh quietly as you rest your head against his chest. He smells like fresh pine and spice, and you can't help but close your eyes, savoring the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. He feels warm and safe, and when he whispers in your ear, his voice low and rough, it sends a shiver down your spine. "There will be a next time, right?"

"If you behave yourself, there might be," you tease. Jesse laughs, his fingers stroking your hair.

"I can do that. I promise. For you." He pauses, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Although, I think I can find a few ways to misbehave..."

"Jesse!"

"Kidding," he says, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Well, mostly."

"Good." You pull away, smacking him lightly on the chest. He's smiling, and you can't help but smile back. It's an infectious smile, one that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. "Now, come on. We have a party to get back to."

Jesse groans, but he doesn't protest as you take his hand, leading him back to the main room. He's quiet as you weave through the crowd, but when you glance back at him, his eyes are bright, his lips curled in a soft smile.

"Happy Life Day, cyar'ika."

You smile, squeezing his hand as the two of you slip back into the party. "Happy Life Day, Jesse."

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

@floofyroro @veralii @chubbyhedgehog @meshlajetii @heaven1207

@808tsuika @aanncummings @lugiastark @maniacalbooper @sensitive-shark

@kashasenpai @kkdrawsdecently @isaidonyourknees @c0rn-fl3x @lunaastars

@capricornrabies

[vibratingskull]

Ok after doing my silver haired Thrawn drawing I got a cool idea for a Thrawnx Fem!reader.

So I know in Chiss Culture grey hair usually means you sired great offspring. Sooooo when Thrawn starts to see grey hairs coming in he gets a huge sense of pride. It also makes him want even more kids with human (y/n) and he is trying to convince her like “Don’t you see my hair we are destined to have badass kids so let make more.” And then spicy stuff👀

I love your writing so much keep it up!

Hihihihihihi, that counts as breeding kink in my book! Thank you dear ❤️

Thrawn x F!reader

Tags : Thrawn is a peacock dad, bredding kink, P in V, creampie, knot, matting press, lovey dovey, fluff

Thrawn stands proudly, looking down at the crib with gentle possession and a deep desire to protect. 

His secondborn wriggles in his arms, trying to see the baby from her station while his first daughter is on her tip-toes to look just over the rail of the crib, devoured by curiosity. 

“Welcome your baby brother.” He announces. 

The little boy is four months old but for his peace and tranquility, you kept him separate from your daughters. This is their first official meeting. 

“He is so little.” Thimasa, his firstborn declares, “Why does he not move?” 

“He is napping for now.” He explains, leaning forward to help Thegusa in his arms to see. “Speak softly, daughters, a baby’s hearing is very sensible.” 

Immediately Thegusa erupts in joyful sounds and laughs discovering the newborn, extending her small arm to try and reach the baby. Thrawn supports her well to make sure she doesn’t fall over. 

Thimasa snifs 

“Where do babies come from?” 

Thrawn chuckles and gently pinches his daughter’s cheek. 

“They come to life through a long and complicated process that you will find terribly boring if I explained it.” 

“Ah.... Will I know it someday?” She tilts her head towards her father. 

“Of course. You will have classes on that subject, for your protection and peace of mind. ” He nods, caressing her blue-black hair. 

Thimasa inherited his hair color but not Thegusa. All three are blue with red eyes but not everyone has forehead bumps or his sharp cheekbones. All three received his nose, however.  

He doesn’t mind, he loves discovering pieces of you in your children.  

“He’s Blue!” Little Thegusa agitates herself in his arms, pointing in the baby’s direction. 

“He’s blue indeed, you are correct, ch'eo en'kin” He approves with a smile, caressing her cheek. 

He doesn’t baby-talk to his children, addressing them as adults, but he adores witnessing you melting and going completely coo-coo over your babies. Right now Thegusa is discovering her Chiss vocal cords and loves to point out colors in everything she sees. 

“You’re grey!” She giggles once more, grabbing one of Thrawn’s strands of hair and pulling on it. 

He delicately opens her little fist to free the hair, bobbing her up and down. 

“I am, correct once again.” He approves. 

He slicks the hair back with a feeling of pride in his chest. He earned those gray strands. He gets more for each baby and the ones for his baby boy are slowly appearing. He grins remembering you complaining that you will gain grey hair while aging while he gained his for siring great offsprings. He tenderly kissed your temple, promising that even with only white hair you would still be the most beautiful woman in this universe and the only one in his heart. 

His baby boy suddenly yawns with the biggest stretch his baby limbs would allow. 

“All right, Ch’eo k’etens," He declares, “Let your little brother rest, he needs calm and peace. Thimasa, your classes resume soon.”  

She grumbles but obeys like a good kid, he looks at her heading towards the door, his heart compressing with love. 

4 years old and so serious already, she will go far in life. Maybe a Speaker? She already proved herself capable in the delicate art of negotiation, she almost got that nightcat she keeps asking for and he has no doubt in his mind at the age of 8 she will have her way against you both. 

Thegusa already has a very solid grip on her small body despite being only 18 months old, she learned to walk and even run and climb terribly early, giving you heart attacks when she simply disappeared from your sight. She will make an efficient warrior, he could already envision her in the army, training recruits, making them unstoppable soldiers as she climbs the ranks! 

His son... He doesn’t know yet obviously, but going by his new grey hair, he must also have a prodigious future ahead! Maybe a doctor? A surgeon who will revolutionize the medical world! A healer in the family... 

He tenderly kisses his second daughter’s cheek while she whines and yawns. She still needs her naps too and she presses her little head in the crook of his solid neck. Thimasa leaves with her teacher as Thrawn heads towards another part of the nursery of the Mitth Manor to lay Thegusa in her bed to sleep. 

He observes her with so much love he feels like he could choke. His babies, his blood, his children... The next generation secured. However, a lot of his compatriots would argue that your three children do not belong to the Chiss race. 

He misses his big brother, he would never have approved but he would have stood at his side no matter what and took care of the children as a doting uncle. He has no doubt that half Chiss or not, Thrass would have been crazy about his nieces and nephews. It is a certainty. 

Thrawn silently heads to your shared suite to freshen up. He would have preferred a privatized apartment in the middle of Cs’aplar like he used to own, but Patriarch Thurfian formerly forbade you to freely roam around the Capital of the Chiss, locking you down the family Manor. Thrawn did not hesitate a second and moved back into the Manor he used to avoid like the plague, full of politicians and syndics of all sorts. He would not let you all alone before the snakes. 

Patriarch Thurfian did not appreciate that move either but kept his thoughts to himself. 

Thrawn enters your suite and immediately goes to the bathroom to clean himself of his long day. When he reappears before the foggy mirror, he cannot help but tilt his head in several angles, admiring his new gray hair. 

What dignified look they give him, what presence he exudes now! Each time you go out just the two of you you have fun pointing him at how many women turn back to admire him walking away and how many jealous gazes he earns from the men. 

He doesn’t let that go to his head, but it amuses you tremendously so he lets you have your fun. 

He brushes the outline of the grey strands... He indeed gained some more for his baby boy. 

“Yes, Ch’acah. Your precious grey hair are still there, do not worry!” You yawn. 

He spins his head towards the bathroom’s open door. You must have finished your shift while he was in the shower. You sniff, taking off one boot and your red jacket as you sit on the bed. 

He details your body, checking you out while he combs his new prestigious hair. 

By the Warrior, you are so beautiful! You complained several times that the pregnancies had effects on your body that you did not really appreciate but he just... cannot see what you see. 

You are the epitome of beauty in his eyes and those three pregnancies only make you shine brighter in his chiss eyes. 

“What?” You ask, tired. 

He verifies the knot of the towel around his waist and enters the master bedroom. 

“Nothing. I was just admiring you.” He confesses. 

You snigger. 

“Yeah, I don’t think there is still a lot to admire after an 11-hour shift.” You gasp, making your spine pop after a hard day of work. 

“On the contrary, that hard-working attitude of yours only makes you more beautiful and worthy of admiration.” 

You snigger harder. 

“We’ll say that, don Juan.” You kick your second boots off your foot, “I hope I still have warm water!” 

He contemplates you up and down as you slowly undress like he isn’t even here. You simply undress to take a shower, not trying to impress or seduce anyone, but holy warrior he can feel his blood fleeing to his virile member under the thin towel. 

He deeply inhales as you take off your velvety top and get rid of the red pants. You’re slightly softer around the waist than when you met, courtesy of the pregnancies, but he would lie if he said it did not make him hard like wood.  

That body that birthed his children, his legacy, the most precious being in the universe... It deserves nothing less but neverending love and attention from him.  

He lowly hisses, feeling his powerful muscles starting to roll under his thick chiss skin in anticipation as he details your breast lifted in your bra and the roundness of your ass.  

You approach to kiss his cheek and walk past him for your shower but he immediately grabs your hips, keeping you here. He dives his nose into the crook of your neck to deeply inhale your sweaty musk, making him salivate. 

“My shower!” You giggle, trying to detach him gently. 

But he digs his fingers in the flesh of your hips, keeping you trapped as he gets high off your scent. 

You smell so good! His sensitive Chiss nose is titillated by so many pheromones, but some are way more interesting than others. 

You are ready. 

Ready to bear another child, to give birth to another chiss baby. 

He refrains a growl from escaping his throat as he licks your skin, tasting your hormones on his tongue. 

You’re making his head spin so dangerously, sensual temptress! And most probably other Chiss men’s heads too, parading yourself like that! 

“Thrawn, I just want to-AH!” You yelp as he captures your legs to carry you bridal style to the bed. 

He gently lays you down on the mattress, following you as he kisses your pretty neck with delight. 

That scent...  

Oh that scent...  

That marvelous scent! 

His blood is boiling in his veins as his member gets hard just thinking about another heir. Another baby of you both, your baby... 

He waited 3 years for Thegusa and 1 year for your baby boy... 

He doesn’t have the patience to wait another month for you to become pregnant again!  

He wants to breed you again right now! See you round and heavy with another one of his children! Tasting your pretty pussy all puffy and swollen with the pregnancy! Taking care of you in all matters of things! Seeing your delectable tummy getting round as you glow so hard you blind everyone in the Manor, him first! 

He salivates at that simple thought and starts humping your clothed pussy with his hard and warm shaft, so tensed it is painful. 

“No shower for you.” He decides arbitrarily, “Stay in bed with me.” He offers, kissing his way up to your face. 

“Thrawn...” You gasp as he grabs one of your boobs to knead it while he licks your cheek tenderly. 

“I want another child, Ch’acah, give me another baby. I beg of you...” He deeply growls as he captures your mouth for a passionate kiss that he knows makes your head spin so much. 

“I-Thrawn! I just...” You just manage to say between his kisses. 

He enters your mouth with his tongue as he feels your lips swelling up against his. He robs you of your air until he feels you panting in the kiss. Only then does he deign part from your delicious mouth. 

You gasp, taking a big breath. 

“Thrawn... I just gave birth, be reasonable.” 

“No. I do not have to. Not when so much more of our children should roam the universe!” He counters, licking the tip of your nose. 

“Thrawn... I gave you three already. It is plenty..” 

He lowers himself, kissing your clavicle as he pushes your bra out of his way to take your boob in his mouth. 

“Mmmmmmmmmmh... No. Chiss families are full and so many babies are birthed each year. I have to accomplish my duties and offer a lot of children to the Ascendancy. I want you full of my semen, please Ch’acah... You’re the only one for me, you are my ch’acah...” 

He sucks hard on the nipples, hollowing his cheeks as his tongue crosses the nervous bud, lathering it with his saliva and letting roll down the hill of your boob. He makes a real mess, soaking you in his drool like a famished carnivore who just found a juicy piece of meat. 

You are always so delicious to devour, to lick, and to savor. He cannot get enough of you, you are his oxygen, the only one able to reduce him in a primal, feral state, humping the covers in a desperate chase of friction. 

He would crawl before you with a leash at his neck if you promised him access to your body each time he craved it like poison. 

Your sexual pheromones make his head dangerously spin and your little gasps and whines just titillates his breeding instincts harder. He humps your pussy hard, the remnants of water drops rolling on his skin making him shine under the light. 

But by far, this is his eyes the biggest hint of his despair. They shine so bright his black pupils simply disappear under the red light, and they caress your exposed skin with a delightful red shade. 

He cannot take it anymore and bites down your nipple, making you yelp. He wants to see your tummy bloated, his virile seed oozing out of your swollen quivering pussy. He just purchased a new plug, perfect for your sensitive human skin. He wants to take you languorously until you pass out in his arms and give you so much you already look 4 months pregnant, he wants to rut into you until you scream his name for all the Mitth Manor to hear, for all those males to know who’s wife you are. 

They already know, your marriage was not especially a secret after you gave birth to a blue-skinned, red-eyed baby, but a little reminder is always welcomed. He sees how they turn their heads toward you, that hunger in their Chiss eyes, a mix of disgust and deranged curiosity to taste exoticism once in their life when they get a whiff of your human pheromones. 

Humans’ pheromones are less easily concealable than Chiss’ and you fill entire rooms with yours, titillating Chiss’ sensitive noses, letting them all know that you are fertile. Thrawn already had to shut down some of his compatriots who were ogling you a bit too much to his taste. 

Contrary to all of them, he has the privilege to enter the same sheets as you and take care of your oh-so-fragile human body... 

Oh, how he loves those jealous burning gazes on him when you are pregnant, they would die before admitting they want to try what you offer, but their gazes do not lie to him, they are so deeply jealous. But he is the one coming home to you when evening comes. 

To the adorable little alien making everyone’s head spin. 

He ostensibly sucks two of his fingers, looking right into your eyes and he pushes them past the hem of your panties, circling your little clit while he resumes his work on your nipples. You mewl, defenseless as he toys with you like he knows you adore, giving your delicate pearl all the attention it needs to awaken your desire. 

But not enough to make you cum! This is a job for his mouth and cock, right now you need to savor all the sensations! 

“Say yes, Ch’eo Ch’acah, bless me again. I will spoil you rotten. This universe needs more of you, of us...” 

“I... I...” You pant, your beautiful face red in his infrared vision. 

He flicks your bundle of nerve several times, making you shudder dramatically, prompting you to close your legs in a desperate attempt to stop him, only caging his hand on your sweet pussy. 

He grins as he rises to bite down your lower lips. 

“Come on... You know how important it is for me, Ch’acah. We discussed it before. Admire my hair, our offspring are destined for grandeur, they are destined to save the Ascendancy with me. They are the heroes everyone awaited for! You cannot deprive the population of their rays of hope.” 

He accelerates his ministrations when you open your mouth, tempting you with another kiss as he lets his lips hover over yours with a satisfied smirk. You grab his torturous hand playing with your pearl to stop him but you are already too weak under his touch and just manage to hold onto him, your grip trembling around his wrist. 

“Only you can have my children. Only you can drive me insane with lust and love. Don’t you want another baby? Another little one to brighten your days? I know you want more, you cannot lie to your husband, not to me...” He furiously brushes your clit making you arch your back against his broad chest, your mouth forced agape to plead mercy. 

But Thrawn has no mercy on this subject... 

“You only have one word to say and I will be all yours, Ch’acah. My entire Chiss body will be at your entire disposal. My entire focus just on you...” 

He lets out a satisfied growl as your face gets bright red at his word, like your core between your legs, shining with shimmery red. He lets his lips soar right above yours and just as you’re about to kiss him, he lowers down, escaping your desperate lips, kissing his way down your breast to your stomach. 

He stops, looming over your venus mound, right where your womb hides from his eyes and he presses his lips on the soft flesh, fondling it lovingly, delighting himself in this gem of nature. He gives it a long lap with the flat of his tongue and goes down again, right between your thighs. 

He hooks the side of your panties and pulls them off his way to discover your delicate pussy. He trails the slit with just the tip of his finger making you tremble irrepressibly. He notes delighted that you started to get wet and your slick now coat his finger. He raises it to observe the glistening substance with hungry attention and licks it clean, looking dead serious into your febrile gaze with a loud moan of satisfaction. 

“Delicious, as always, my sweet. You always make for the sweetest treat I have to refrain myself to not eat you out each morning for breakfast.” He licks his finger clean sticking his tongue out, full of promise. 

You huff. 

“We eat breakfast in the communal room!” 

“Did I stutter? I could eat you out with an audience. It would be my utmost privilege.” He lets ring in the Master bedroom. 

You gulp as he places himself between your thighs with a playfully dark grin. He dives his nose into your pubes, deeply inhaling our sexual musk. 

Oh for warrior’s sake... He needs to pounce now! To bury himself in your pussy, to make you scream his name and spurt his load deep inside your womb... To breed your sweet body again. You are just so beautiful with the pregnant glow, he feels the need to be chained just to keep his hands off of you. He should think about purchasing new cuffs for you to chain him again after he broke the formers into pieces. 

All your sexual pheromones hit him like a ton of bricks, making him so deliciously dizzy. He lets out a deep growl of satisfaction and takes a big sloppy lap at your pussylips with the flat of his tongue. He licks your folds nice and well, teasing your sensitive sex with the promise of so much more. 

You yap and your thigh muscles contract in response. You quickly close them by reflex, imprisoning him against your pussy as he loves so much. His hands slide in between and spread your thighs open for more comfort. 

One day he will let them cage him and suffocate him until he is fully satisfied or when he finally passes out of lack of air. That would be a lot of fun! 

But that will be for another delicious evening, maybe to celebrate your new pregnancy. He will lick you until you cry real tears of overstimulation. 

He trails your slit expertly with the tip of his tongue up and down, coating his tongue with your slick, feeling it starting to drip out of you. He presses his lips on your pussy and sucks it and drinks it with a loud satisfied growl. 

That’s the kind of drink he love, so much better than any cocktails! 

He spread your pussy lips open and laves at your hidden flesh with glee as your shake with pleasure under his care, mewling and gasping like a good girl. 

He loves those evenings between your luscious thighs. Sometimes when he lacks inspiration or ideas he just grabs you and opens your legs wide on his desk and eats you out until his motivation comes back, licking his lips with satisfaction. 

You generally walk out with wobbly legs and your slick rolling down your skin. It works very well! He usually has a fresh new mind after those delicious sessions and his problems aren’t that big of a pain in the end. 

“Thrawn...!” You gasp trembling, your hand gripping his wet hair. 

He purrs loudly as he takes your clit in his mouth and proceeds to suck it like a lollipop. He flicks it, wipes it, and drums it, glides it and twists it between his lips, savors it like a treat. 

He feels your sweat rolling on your thighs and your slick beading off his jaws, getting drunk out of it. 

You gasp and moan, your body undulating under your husband’s attention. All your blood flees to your southern mouth, fluffing up your inner muscles like pillows while you open your mouth wide in a silent plea for him to slow done. 

But Thrawn doesn’t slow down, he is getting high off your body and will not let you escape him. 

You lower your gaze to see him, eyes closed shut, focusing so hard on your taste as he laps your pearl like he is on the verge of dying of thirst, while his hips hump the thick cover of your wedding bed, desperate for some friction. 

You slam your head back into the pillows as he flicks your nervous bud at high speed, sending shockwaves of pleasure into your tight cunt, your eyes rolling inside your skull. Your hand rolls into a fist around his disheveled hair as he grabs your flesh by the handful, locking your hips to his desperate mouth 

He gently bites down your clit, making you yelp in return. He sniggers and kisses it tenderly as to say sorry. 

He circles your pearl and crosses it with his tongue, licking it up and down, making you wetter and wetter as you hold on to him for dear life, your other hand threatening to tear the cotton of your mattress. 

He darts his tip and harasses your precious little nub like he would harass an enemy’s ship, never leaving you time to recover and recompose yourself.  

He deeply sighs as he feels you creaming on his tongue and gives a last, fateful brush at your palpitating clit. 

And you come undone in his mouth. 

You scream Thrawn’s name, your back arching impressively under the sheer tension of your orgasm, pressing his head against your pulsating core, making you both see stars. All your muscles contract under the pressure before relaxing, squirting in his mouth. 

You fall down, all strength evading you with an “oof”, releasing his hair, letting your hand fall down on the mattress while you pant, all sweaty and goosebumps all over. 

He kisses your pussy lips a final time with a loud purr before rising on his hands, licking his lips as he looks at you, shaking under him. 

“Thank you very much, Ch’acah. Flavorful and refined as always.” He wipes his jaw with his thumb before sucking it clean, “Did I make my point? Should I give you more arguments?” 

You raise your trembling hand to him, panting, before letting it fall, fatigued. He grabs it and intertwines your fingers together, looming over you with a stern expression but sparkling, mischievous eyes. 

You open your mouth to speak, only for a gap to escape you instead. 

“I am all ears, Ch’acah.” He purrs, getting rid of his towel to finally meet your skin with his. 

You shiver as you feel his tip poking your sensitive pussy as he undulates his body on yours. He lets his face soar over yours, taunting you with his lips, promising a kiss that he keeps denying you. 

“Thr... Thrawn...” You gulp. 

“Yes? Tell me, Ch’acah. I am hanging out of your words.” He darkly grins, brushing your nose tips together. 

“Please... Please...” 

“Please what? What do you want? I cannot read minds.” 

“Please... Make love to me, take me....” You beg, digging your nails into his back, trying to press him against you but he remains looming, taking support on his hands. 

“Can I make you a new baby? Take you raw and breed you until you cry your pleasure in my hands?” He asks with his rich velvety voice. “Can I, my sweet...?” 

“O...Okay...” You back down, giving him what he craved. 

His purr lowers a few octaves and his first order of business is to give you that kiss he kept from you. He presses your lips together, embracing them deep and long, meeting your tongue with a growl of satisfaction, like a carnivore. 

He parts from you, a string of saliva liking your two mouths. He breaks it with his tongue and a snigger and sits on his ankles between your legs, parts your thighs wide open, and aligns himself with you. 

You feel him probing your entrance with his fat tip, coating it with your essence, holding his length he draws sweets circles with his tip, lathering your pussylips with his precum until you feel him press against your quivering hole and entering at last. 

You gulp, all air escaping you as his girth spreads your inner muscles open, stretching them to their maximum.  

“Breath, sweetheart. You always make it fit...” He encourages gently, his powerful abs rolling under his skin as your inner warmth caresses and squeezes him so deliciously. 

He throws his head back at all the sensations you are giving him while you cry out each time one of his ridges grazes your G spot. 

“Warrior...” He breathes out, his eyes coming back on your form as he keeps pushing deeper, “So much...” 

He draws sweet circles on your hips with his thumb as he keeps pushing, splitting you in two with his girth and length. 

Like he always does. 

You grab his two wrists and dig your nails in his thick Chiss skin as you grit your teeth, trying to not break under the pressure. 

“There... Here we go, my sweet. All is inside...” He praises with a chuckle as you finally feel his hips pressed against your rear. 

You pant heavily as he lets you time to catch your breath, but you can feel his cock twitching with impatience inside of you. You gulp, inadvertently contracting your muscles around him. 

“Careful.” He grins deviously, “If you don’t want me to pound you right away, you better not repeat that...” 

“Tha-that’s not voluntary...” You defend yourself, trying hard to remain sane. 

“Was it? You know how to play with my body so well...” He circles his hips voluptuously, making you bite your lips with a yap, “Maybe you are secretly trying to push me to my ultimate limits...” He whispers lowly with his deep voice. 

You sigh, licking your lower lips as you slowly relax. Thrawn hums appreicatively. 

“There, I feel you relaxing all around me. Breathe deep, I will help you.” And he resumes his grazing of your clit making you yelp, “Welcome it deep in your flesh, Ch’acah. I cannot wait...” 

To make himself wait he keeps drawing circles with his hips while you mewl under his caresses. 

“So beautiful... That bulge inside your pussy is truly magnificent, I love admiring it each time I enter your tight cunt... This is such a sight, Ch’acah.” 

“Ah...! Mo-move...Please!” You start begging, trying to undulate your hips against his. 

But his cock is like an anchor, keeping you still and stuck under him. 

‘’Patience Ch’acah, a little bit more or I am afraid it is going to hurt you.’’ He tempers, but accelerates his caresses on your clit sending shockwaves in your pussy. 

You feel your saliva rolling down your jaw as your clit palpitate under the pads of his careful fingers. 

He always takes such good care of you… 

‘’I feel your pussy squeezing my cock so hard… I love it so much.’’ He praises, rubbing your pearl at high speed, ‘’I think this is good now.’’ 

He grabs your legs and throws them on his shoulders before laying on you, keeping you stuck under his weight in a tight mating press. 

You gurgle an incoherent sentence as your pussy opens up as he tilts your hips, allowing him to slide even deeper than usual. 

He starts with shallow thrusts, testing the waters gently, admiring how your muscles stretch and welcoming him deep inside your most secret place, undulating all around him. 

‘’You give me so much Ch’acah, the way you strangle my cock is like nothing else… Tight human cunt for me to play and breed.’’ He whispers. 

He accelerates his thrusts steadily, making you see stars as you feel him slip out and ram it back inside like you were just a toy for him, but he always remains careful of your fragile human body, never forgetting the size differences between your two species, no matter how rough he might get. 

He tenderly kisses all over your face while rutting inside of you like a machine, steady and powerful. He tilts his pelvis in such a way it doesn’t hurt when he plows you down, but just cuts your breath each time he pushes his entire length inside. 

You open your mouth wide to breathe and he takes the opportunity to clasp his lips on yours, languorously kissing you like he knows you love, making your head spin so easily it’s ridicule. The rocking of his hips is so powerful you almost bite down his tongue several times in your confusion. 

You gasp, feeling his tongue dancing and embracing yours like a sensual tango, while he sighs of satisfaction in the kiss. He parts from you, barely shaken up while you pant again. Truly, a human is no match for a Chiss’ stamina as he loves to remind you each time you enter his warm embrace. 

He usually remains awake, hugging your form while you fall asleep, exhausted by such activities, cradling you tenderly while kissing your temples while you cockwarm him nicely. 

“Mmmmmmmmmh... Your little body is such a delight to me, ch’eo Ch’acah. I do not know what I would do without it, truly. You hold me in a chokehold, you could kill me anytime you so desire I would not be able to fight back under such bliss...” He brushes your nose tips, licking your lips with a guttural purr, praising you for all the pleasure you give him. 

You are way too fucked up to understand a single of his sentence, the only things your brain still register is the increasing pleasure pumping up in your veins at each of his deep thrusts. You feel your inner muscles do their best to allow him to move, but it is always a miracle with his size. 

“Oh, you drool all over yourself, my sweet... Is that my doing? Do I give you that much? Good, I do not intend to stop.” He declares like a sentence “ And what if I do this?” 

His hand slides between your two sweaty bodies, reveling in the softness of your skin until he reaches your clit and grazes it. 

“What a reaction, my treasure. I barely touched your sweet pearl and you clenched so hard around me...” He purrs, peppering soft kisses on your lips. 

He starts massaging your clit seriously, making you yap and moan in hopelessness, eyes closed to survive the pleasure you are receiving. You gulp, feeling his knot swelling up and hitting your entrance as he rolls his hips at a hungry pace. 

You cannot do anything under his massive body, you are completely stuck at the entire mercy of your husband’s will. 

But he wants nothing more than your love and pleasure, he dedicates his entire energy and will, serving at your feet with beatitude, kissing them reverently before looking into your eyes with so much love you wonder how it is even possible. 

But it is true, you are his person 

Thrawn’s person 

His intended, his promised 

You circle his shoulders to hug him tight, digging your nails into his shoulder blades and making him throw his head back in ecstasy. 

Your pussy furiously convulses around his thick shaft as he keeps brushing and twisting your clit like a master, making you helpless and useless between his hands. You gasp as he undulates his hips so deliciously that you see real stars exploding behind your eyelids, his ridges grazing and titillating your G spot with such ease. 

“You shake so much, Ch’acah. Do not worry about anything, you are safe in my arms, I will never leave you alone. Ch’eo Ch’acah, Ch’eo Ch’acicoh, ch'eo bsetah rcati... Let me take care of everything, I will protect and devote myself to you and our children till my death...” He begs out loud, ramming into you like a desperate animal. 

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, kissing it urgently as you could break in his hands, his free arm sliding under your back to hold you so tight your ribcages complain. 

“Let me breed you, Ch’eo Ch’acah. Let’s have a new baby, a little one for the two of us. Bless me again and illuminate my days brighter! Let me make you a new baby, my sweet! Oh, I beg of you... Give me one more to save our worlds.” Thrawn pleads, plunging inside of you with abandon. 

Your pussy spasms and quivers around his cock and with a fatal twist of your clit, you cum hard. 

Your body arches and your toes roll, you open your mouth wide to scream the name of your husband for all to hear, bright fireworks behind your eyelids blinding you. All your muscles contract as one and you feel your cunt clench tight around Thrawn’s shaft, trying to retain him inside. 

Thrawn hips thrusts become erratics and he pushes a final time all the way in, gasping as your tight pussy swallows his swollen knot, plugging your cunt shut as he cums inside of you, your pussy kneading his entire length to milk him for all his worth.  

Thrawn cums with a growl ending up in a long sigh, pressing his forehead in the crook of your neck, his hand caressing your cheek so tenderly while he takes back his breath, his warm respiration blowing on the goosebumps of your sweaty skin. 

You wince as he relaxes on top of you, weighing down on your legs and ribcage painfully. He immediately notices and raises back to relieve your tensed body; allowing your legs to lay down the mattress at last. He lays back down on top of you, nudging his nose in your neck while you feel his pulse palpitating in his knot inside of you. 

“Ch’eo Ch’acah...” He whispers, grazing your cheek and jaw with just the tip of his fingers like he would brush a petal, “Ch'ah ch'acah vah cseo ch'otcah bi...” 

Your chest rises up and down rhythmically against his large pecs, you gently caress his shoulder blades, drawing sweet circles on his thick blue skin. You open your eyes to look at him, discovering your husband with a stern expression but devouring your face with sparkling eyes. He lowers to your level to softly capture your lips. 

You respond with a sigh. 

“I guess I earned my shower now?” You demand with a tired chuckle. 

He considers you with a hum before sneaking his two arms under your back to lift you up from the mattress.  

You yelp, still knotted. You circle his waist with your legs and his shoulders with your arms, hanging onto your husband for dear life. 

He leaves the bed and carries you to the bathroom, to sit on the edge of the tub and turns on the warm water, letting it fill the tub slowly. He expertly spins on the edge to enter and sits down his ankles in the water, knot still swollen inside of you. 

“How about a nice bath where you do absolutely nothing while I keep rutting into you?” He kisses your temple with a purr, “You deserve some sweet lovemaking and attention after that shift. Let me take care of everything, Ch’acah, that would be my pleasure...” He tenderly caresses your back, purring loudly. 

Simply happy to have you in his embrace. 

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @thrawnspetgoose @thrawnalani @twilekchiss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo@empresskrennic @davesrightshoe @elise2174 @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @janjtje @helrose8 @debonaire-princess @courier-jackalope

[nottivagos]

f!pov & stalker!carlos sainz.

wc: 2,064 words

tw: stalkers, dark themes, brief? mentions of nsfw

a/n: HELLO!!! welcome back to notti's nightly novellas. this fic is heavily inspired by i believe @/emchante's stalker!au carlos as it really made my head drabble on and yap about silly stalker carlos sending anonymous notes to his darling.

Fear and Sex, He Wrote. ¦¦ CS55

A sick pool of fear churned and curdled in your stomach. Wide eyed and teary, your eyes frantically flicked over the thick, cream-coloured cards in your trembling palms. The light sweat made them sticky to touch, they were letters, very detailed ones,— but not just any letters. Graphic sex fantasies, crude depictions of objectifying yourself and the dreams this anonymous lustful sex pest wanted to do to you.

It wasn’t the first time you’d received such sickening things. Such things that needed to be kept away, right at the back of someone’s mind, never to be revealed into the public eye. Or in your case, the bedroom. No, this occurrence had been going on for longer than any woman dreamed of suffering— a controlling bundle of fear wrapping you up whole, swallowing any inch of free will you had with ease, shutting off your vocal cords whenever you wanted to report it.

You were an undoubtedly beautiful woman. Even you knew that. On the brief appearances you made at bars and clubs, your presence was definitely made noticeable. Men and women’s gazes loomed over your figure, snugly dressed in garments that presented your soft curves in ways unimaginable, but also tempting the more monstrous side of them to imagine what lay underneath whilst you kept basking in the strobe lights, cheaply made cocktails in hand, and thumping drum and bass the typical ‘nighttime’ spots had to offer.

Maybe it was some sort of sick joke? You always thought, as glassy, stinging eyes glossed over each bold mention of ‘fuck’, ‘cunt’, ‘cock’ and ‘come’ that the unidentified freak wrote. The harsh wording and setting created a burning imprint in your mind, a forced sex position or lewd scenario that lurked— haunting your days in its own predatory, violent way— keeping your poor mind on edge, leaving you uneased even inside your own home.

Loneliness and anxiety aren’t a pleasant mix. It’s a mix that makes your gut twist and turn, churning acidic bile which is begging to be retched into a basin. The feeling suffocates anyone, like a metaphorical hand wrapped tightly around someone’s throat, leaving them silenced and isolated. Afraid of speaking out. Afraid of unknown consequences, causing overthinking and psychological turmoil.

Even the mere postman knocking on the door created tight knots in your stomach, the burning feeling of upset overflowing— the sheer fright flashing across your eyes, causing your insides to drop and heart to pound, the healthy colour of your skin to become a ghastly pale, pasty and sick, as if the horror of another looming erotic, predatory desire was sat quaintly on your doormat inside.

You felt ashamed, how could you have let fear and embarrassment silence you like that? It was only a piece of paper, containing some mere explicit eroticism— maybe a little too pornographic in parts—, which had been completely normalised by the changing ways of society. That’s when it changed, this one was different. The anonymous author had gotten every little, tiny feature of your appearance to a tee. How the hell did someone get something so graphically accurate? Someone, comfortably distanced from you, was stalking you, your body, and your soul.

It was beautifully fucked up. Honestly it was. And that pretty little head of yours would never come up with a logical reason, answer or identity to the mystery sex writer who overflowed your mail.

Your head was too busy hung low, your pathetic sobs muffled by your wettened hands to acknowledge your next door neighbour, Carlos Sainz, peering straight through his blinds with a sadistic smile.

Oh, sweetheart. You stupid, stupid girl. You’re way too easy to scare. The Spaniard contently thought to himself, watching you unfold in turmoil, like a scared kitten left in the pouring rain. It was ravishing, really— for his own pride’s sake. He’d been able to mingle himself into your mind, graphic fantasies manipulated into words, whilst maintaining that hidden identity— that bit of untold freedom which made his hardness twitch as he wrote such lewd things— happily away from you.

He, in short, was proudly your stalker. The man solely behind the erotic fantasies carefully, yet sickeningly curated and gracefully handwritten which made your lips tremble and heart sink.

Your relationship with Carlos was, in your opinion, completely platonic. Maybe a little too over-friendly sometimes, with his gentle touches and sweet nothings, but it wasn’t an issue for you. If anything, you latched onto it. Grasping onto that cherishing feeling, that little smidgen of hope when he showed the signs of caring about you in your predicament. He was the first person you’d been able to crack up the courage to tell, after he tenderly brought up his concerns for your distance from the neighbourhood, as if you were a ghost of the lively girl you used to be.

It was like a dream, an endearing one, at least. You’d been met with loving, soothing and somewhat addicting words, delivered by his thick, distinct accent that drawled and murmured like gooey treacle, whilst also being so gingerly touched as if you were a fine, pure piece of porcelain— easily breakable— in the eyes of the tanned man of thirty.

But underneath that facade? Well, those ‘innocent’ words were way more sinister; quiet degradations and malice which crumbled your psyche word-by-word, like a mason carefully chipping away at the stone to perfectly craft his newest statue.

It was bliss to Carlos. He was meticulously spinning this ‘safety net’ for you to rely on, whilst actually the poison and venom drawing you back to him with every horrible phrase on each card that stacked high with the various others collecting dust in your flooded letterbox. Every striking pornography he scribed drew you back to him, and he was more than welcome to accept you back into his open arms.

The reality was horrific, really. But you’d become so accustomed to it, the comfort becoming an overpowering drug, a strong magnetic force, always making— pulling you, even, to come back crawling to him.

Clutching the card tightly, you shoved it into your trouser pocket, before brushing the stinging weep away from your reddened eyes with hasty movements of the back of your hands. A soft sniffle escaped, a hiccuped sob muffled as you wiped a tissue across your snotty nose, then you rushed out of the door.

Your destination was ingrained into your mind, the scenario and situation like clockwork. Your only desired embrace being Carlos’s, as your mind went on autopilot, guiding you directly to your neighbour’s house.

He was already waiting for you. Your predictability was becoming amusing to the Spaniard. The movements were inevitable, a cycle so firmly fixed into your mind that even if one thing was altered slightly, you’d be a confused wreck. He liked that. No, he loved it. Something in that twisted mind of his had happily adopted whatever this whole ‘comforting’ thing was months ago, in the early days of his erotic, anonymous filth.

“Oh, pobrecita,” he drawled, his tone as light as a feather, opening the door to your emotional state, “come in. Come in. Let me hold you.”

He ushered you into his house, quickly closing the door on the piercing cold outside. Large, strong arms then pulled you into an almost suffocating embrace, with Carlos pressing his nose into your hair, planting a tender kiss on your head.

“Shh, it’s okay,” the Spaniard consoled with a coo, a large hand brushing away some stray strands of hair which had messily stuck to your damp, burning cheeks.

He tutted softly, muffling your sobs in with his chest, cradling your head as you cried. “Breathe, nena.”

You seemed to melt into his warm closeness, face nuzzled into his chest as watery eyes dampened his new shirt, but Carlos seemed uncaring. Despite not fully having you, you were still his darling, in his own disfigured fashion, the sinful anonymities just luring you closer and closer into his den, but for now he’d settle with you in his arms— the bedroom, sex, and the awaiting marriage could wait— even with the sobs, despite his deep hatred for them.

Only he could make you cry. A sick possessiveness, God forbid, that only he was able to get out of you. The anonymous notes Carlos left in your letterbox were merely tame in his eyes— well, that's what he believed in his own sick mind.

You delved into your pocket with a jittery hand, thrusting the newest addition of anonymous sex cards into the Spaniard’s grasp. His large hand came to claw your head in response, softly pressing your face against his chest again, the coarseness of Carlos’s palms a contrast to your smooth, silky locks of hair.

His voice rumbled deeply, his hushes cooing your weeps away, whilst his lips were soft on your temple now and again as he read the card with a level of assertiveness.

He couldn't help but chuckle at his own words. God, he was hauntingly accurate in his fantasies, his imaginative depictions of you in all sorts of positions— the list of lewd thoughts in his head long, as a sly smirk crossed his lips as he kept your face out of sight of his.

Sliding the card into his own pocket, he purred, “I think you're overreacting, cariño,” the hot breath fanning onto the shell of your bare ear. “Surely it's a coincidence,” he continued, his words deliberately slow and intoxicating, “any girl like you could've been wearing that dress this… person speaks of.”

There was something about his words that made you gasp. A sharp intake of breath whistling through your teeth, which left your heart drumming in your chest. Words as smooth and comforting as sweet honey, laced with poison. Caring words of malice, caressing your fear. Manipulation, raw, and at its finest.

Maybe it was a coincidence. Anyone could've worn that dress, so easily described and painted through Carlos’s sick, anonymous words. The same dress he yearned to ‘jerk his aching cock to’ whilst inhaling your sweet scent off of it.

Slow fingertips trailing your back broke you out of your frenzy of thoughts. Little specks of goosebumps trailing in their lazy tracks. Carlos’s other hand soon followed, cupping your stinging, reddened cheek oh so softly, his large, brown doe eyes swallowing you whole in one gaze. You could spend years, eternities even, swimming in the intricate specks of hazel.

The hand on your cheek, grazed your soft flesh, the roughness of his knuckles causing a flicker of heat to rush to them in his wake. Carlos’s lips formed a small smile, to which you responded with a loud sniffle, and some more relaxed breathing.

Who knew a few sweet nothings and hand grazes could stop you from being a whimpering, emotional wreck, hmm?

Swallowing the lump growing sourly in your throat, you replied, “Y-yeah, maybe you are right.” The reply was a mere whisper, before you added quietly, “Just… Just a coincidence.”

“Just a coincidence,” the brooding Spaniard repeated lowly and so thickly, it left you shivering slightly. A little flutter forming in your stomach at the intensity of your shared gazes once again.

The bolts of lightning sparked as you both swam in your shared silence— a moment of blissful intimacy, so unspoken yet perfect and oh so palpable. Air thick around you, Carlos broke it, clearing his throat abruptly.

“Why don't I run you a nice bath, hm?” he suggested smoothly, the tar of his accent thickly smothering your senses. An arm slowly snaking before wrapping around your waist snugly, “I bet you're feeling disgusting after shedding all those tears.”

Pausing for a moment, you felt safe in that moment. “I'd like that, yes,” you responded softly, your widened eyes meeting the tanned Spaniard’s for one more time. “Thank you, Carlos. For everything.”

Your sweet lips formed the smallest of genuine smiles, which Carlos happily flashed back. There was an intensity in his eyes, burning deep below the surface of his facade, “Then let's go and get you cleaned up then, corazón.” Carlos finally murmured again, walking you up towards the staircase in his home.

Word by word, chip by chip, slowly breaking you away. He now had you just where he wanted you to be, stuck, so obliviously drunk on his poison in the spider's web of his own design.

like what you see? make sure to leave me some notes in my inbox if you want to see more stalker!carlos in my nightly novellas!

[daryascurse]

ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏɪꜱᴏɴ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴄʜʀɪꜱᴛᴍᴀꜱ

“Deadly to eat.” His voice is smooth velvet. “Isn’t that funny? Humans saw a parasite that can kill, and decided to call it romantic.”

“Only if you eat it, then,” you say. “Something harmless pretending to be dangerous.”

“Or something dangerous, pretending to be harmless.”

SUKUNA x READER | 3.3k | ao3 | ᴀꜰᴀʙ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ɴᴏɴɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴꜱ, ᴍɪʟᴅ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ, ʙᴇɢɢɪɴɢ ʙᴊ/ ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ɴɪᴘᴘʟᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ꜱᴘᴀɴᴋɪɴɢ, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴄᴜᴍ, ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ

“You have to kiss under mistletoe,” says the little girl who materialized at your elbow. “That’s the rule.”

You take a step backwards, startled, and she just beams up at you. “Well, look.”

“Careful,” Sukuna mutters as you almost tread on his toes, and the child scowls at his low tone. Her mother swoops in and grabs her forearm, tugging the girl down the snow-dusted street with apologies tossed your way. They make their way through the thinning crowds, the streetlights throttled with green cords and illuminating bulbs.

You glance up. A cluster of frostbitten mistletoe dangles, knotted just over your head where someone’s tied it off a lamppost’s iron branch.

Sukuna’s hand is at the small of your back as you lift your fingers to touch the shriveled plant. “Careful,” he says again. “It’s poisonous.”

“Hmm?”

“Mistletoe,” Sukuna says, and you pinch the ribbon instead as you bring it closer for inspection. It’s half-black with rot and frost. The red berries glimmer, weakly reflecting the streetlight around. It’s on its last legs of life as the holiday season peaks, just a dead plant tied together with fraying ribbon.

“Poisonous?”

He lifts his hand as well, cupping the berries in his palm. “Deadly to eat.” His voice is smooth velvet. “Isn’t that funny? Humans saw a parasite that can kill, and decided to call it romantic.”

“Only if you eat it, then,” you say. “Something harmless pretending to be dangerous.”

“Or something dangerous, pretending to be harmless.”

His breath is hot in your ear and the tableau is frozen a moment; a hand at your spine, the turn of your shoulder warm against his chest, your outstretched arms embracing the same plant. You tilt your nose closer to his face.

“A weed,” Sukuna says, and suddenly snaps the ribbon clean from the iron post. "It's also called the thief of the tree."

You turn, your face burning, and can’t watch him fling the mistletoe down the street. But he offers you an elbow as you walk towards the small square at the end of the street. Blinding lights take on proper shape as you approach. Fenced trees, white with snow and dead under a layer of frost, circle the plaza. They sparkle with the same golden and green lights threaded up the trunks and through the branches. The footpath is lined with electric, brilliantly scarlet poinsettias that cast an artificially red glow along the ground. Every few minutes, the colors ripple and change hues, eliciting sounds of delight from the children in the crowd.

“Beautiful,” you hear a woman breathe to another.

And he, Sukuna, he is beautiful too, his chin buried in the cowl of his dark coat, his narrowed eyes shining like the ornaments around you. You duck your face away in a bashful smile. The warmth of his thick coat pushes into you. Streetlamps pepper your way with light, and you shiver, even with Sukuna’s body heat snug and welcome against you.

Chirp!

The winter serenity is broken by the phone beeping in your pocket.

You try to draw your arm away from Sukuna to get to it, but he clamps his elbow closer to yours with a bullish look ahead. You use your other hand to awkwardly reach across.

“Oh,” you say as you read the message. “The girls – they want to meet up a little earlier for drinks.”

“You need to get the train now?”

Sukuna’s looking straight ahead.

“No, not yet,” you say, but frown when you slip your phone away again. “I think I left my headphones at yours, though.”

Sukuna rubs the tip of his nose with his free hand, and slides it back into his pocket. You can’t read the flash in his eyes. “We’re not far.”

“I know,” you say, and give a wistful look to the romantic lights around you. “I’m sorry to leave early…”

He grunts, a response you can’t quite decipher. But he turns and leads you from the square. Slowly, with each new block, the illuminations and lights drape away to bare night streets.

It’s hot in the lobby of his building. Sukuna’s bicep flexes in release when he slides your body from his arm to push the door open and lead you to the elevator.

His boots are off. You’re shimmying free from your shoes in his foyer when he turns. He pulls his hand from his pocket and lifts it over your eyes, backing you against his closed door; the stolen mistletoe and ragged black ribbon threaded between his fingers.

“Now what did that brat say, you have to kiss underneath this?”

Sukuna dangles the mistletoe, lifting his arm. You feel the weight of your head in a nod.

“But what if I want more than a kiss?”

Your eyes skim, up to the pinch of the mistletoe in his hand, before coming back down to meet his gaze. Sukuna smirks.

His lips are on yours before you can even lean into his chest. His mouth is cold to the touch. Your fingers grab the front of his coat and his free hand slides to the small of your back, drawing you closer. His fingers are impatient and they curve to pluck under lengths of fabric, to curve his hold to your body. You breathe shakily through your nose when he breaks the kiss.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Sukuna says with a thin smile. He looks at the mistletoe, back down at you. “What else can I make you do with this?”

Your elbows are resting on his chest, your grip still against the lapels of his coat. Sukuna’s fingers push at you.

“I asked, what if I want more?”

“I’ll give it to you,” you say, your breath coming quick and jagged. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth without his own.

“Good answer,” Sukuna says. His voice is throaty, his lips spreading in a grin. The next kiss is encompassing, his arms on you, around you, to guide an entwined walk from the foyer. Light spills from the entry to the dark room. Your arms wrestle his coat free. He tosses the mistletoe somewhere down to the couch, and his hands move to his pants as your own jacket slips from your shoulders.

“Come here.”

Sukuna lifts his hips to let his pants kick down. He sits wide on the sofa, and you drop to your knees. He strokes his cock lightly in one hand, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, lazily with the other. His eyes fall down as you sit between his spread thighs.

“I want you to suck on it,” he says.

His hand is on yours to control your motions when you lean forward; back up, down, up again. He stiffens under your touch and the tip glistens as your thumb slides messily in circles. Sukuna lets go with a groan coming from his throat.

You guide him to your lips and he moans again, the sound hitching in response. The taste of him waters your mouth. He hits the back of your throat and you move back up with a slight gag.

“Mmm- ”

“That’s it, that’s it.”

Your mouth adds pressure to the rhythm, your tongue stroking along the underside of his cock until you’re sucking him, harder, harder, before gasping. Sukuna is hard and full when you put him back in your mouth. Saliva gathers, drools out over him.

“Fuck…”

You force your eyes up to see Sukuna’s lids are closed, mouth agape with elbows slung over the back of the couch. His chest rises and falls rapidly, half-bare. Slight groans slip from his lips.

As if he can feel the plead of your stare, Sukuna’s hands drop to the back of your head. His cock is ribbing over you, pushing to the back of your throat with each urge of his hand. He’s fucking your mouth more than you’re sucking him off now, his hips thrusting shallowly upwards with no mind to your struggle. Your hands fumble clumsy and blind to smear your saliva down.

Tears are beading involuntarily, leaking from your eyes as he moves you faster and faster over him. There’s that long, hard vein – and your tongue finds it, runs over it again and again.

“Oh – ”

The sound comes with an anguished force from him. The hands are pushing back now, and you lean away panting for breath. You wipe your lips with the back of your hand.

Sukuna lets out a groan like a growl, fumbling with the last buttons of his shirt. His eyes are wild on you. He tears the sleeves from his arms and he pulls you to his lap with rough hands. His mouth returns to you again, tasting his suggestion with a reverence, and the hands are busy to help you shed the layers from your own skin.

“You didn’t need mistletoe for that,” you whisper, your lip twitching in a half smile between kisses. Your nails card through his hair again, raking lower and lower, and then a hand to balance on his shoulder.

He urges your hips up a moment and your panties are off with the measured patience of someone who restrained himself from ripping the fabric from you. “Careful.”

“Why – oh – ” and as he steadies your knees over his thighs, you curl your fingers into hair with a gasp – “do you keep saying that?”

The question stutters out of you as his hands ride up around your ribs.

“Because you think everything is harmless until it bites you.”

Sukuna kisses your neck, your collarbone, down your breast where your skin pebbles cold.

“A weed… a kiss… a man.”

He bites then, pulling your nipple between his teeth with a pinch that makes you squeal. The words dissolve on your tongue.

There’s nothing slow or gentle to help slow your eager heartbeat. Sukuna dances his tongue until your nipple peaks, one hand coming to brace the small of your back to balance you, really keep you at him this time. He moves to the other with a fervor, saliva sparkling across your skin as you shake over him.

His other hand pushes into you, his finger seeking between your folds and urging your hips into position with each suggestive turn of his wrist. His finger finds your clit and begins to rub.

“Ohh – ”

It lowers you in a relentless rocking to where his cock waits, hard at the back of your thigh. The smoothness of it makes you whimper. Your muscles are tensing, relaxing when you realize you’ve been holding yourself steady for him; but then you tense again in a desperate reach for anything close to friction.

You curl your fingers into his shoulder to keep the balance as you reach with your other hand anxiously, trembling. His cock is still wet with your mouth.

“Impatient,” Sukuna murmurs.

“Maybe I should hang the mistletoe over your head,” you say, trying to angle him to you.

“You want more than a kiss from me?” His hand at your back lowers, and you’re leaning against the strong muscle of his forearm for a moment as he slaps your ass – cheekily, but with enough of a smart to make you yelp. “Didn’t you have somewhere to be soon?”

“Ah- ”

You’d forgotten, with his other hand now running a teasing finger along you to coax out the slick that opens you to him.

Sukuna’s lip curls at that, at the vacancy settled over your eyes, and he slides into you easily. From above like this, he’s pushed up so deep –

“- so d-deep…”

You’re stuttering, clutching to his shoulders with both hands now. Your thighs are clenched as you sink onto him.

“Move your hips.”

There’s an edge of impatience in his voice, choked with something thicker. Sukuna’s hands are there now, and he lets his palms run gentle massaging circles before slapping your ass with both hands now. It stings, and you bark out another cry. You push your hips back in whimpering response and spread your legs as best as you can to let your thighs and knees work and support the movements. But this dropping pushes him further inside you, and you let out another whine.

“Oh…”

“Better.”

He spanks you again as you move. His cock slides out of you a moment, back in, as you build your own unsteady rhythm. It’s unsteady because every deep, hard stroke inside makes you shake. When he thrusts his hips back up into you with a grunt, the force is so strong that your nails bite into his skin to keep you up. Sukuna moves his hands again at that and lock around your wrists.

You look down between the bars of your arms. Below your chest, his tense abdomen, his cock slides up into your body split and stretched against his width. It makes you shake just to see it, as if it defies reality to comprehend what it is you feel. You close your eyes and tilt your head back dizzyingly, shifting your hips.

“Mm… hmm… it feels so good…”

It’s easier, the more he’s in you, to rock your hips back and forth. You need to feed that desperate desire for friction, even if it grinds you raw. You’re able to move faster now, but Sukuna is still stronger, so much stronger that every stroke up into you stutters the rhythm.

He’s picking up the pace again in a way you can’t keep up with, and he’s groaning your name wildly.

“Feels – good?”

“Yes…”

“You’re… going to… leave my cum inside your cunt,” Sukuna says, his voice a low hiss, strained as he thrusts erratically, ecstatically, up inside you. His grip tightens on your wrists. “All night. With your friends. Let it sink … into your panties… all night.”

You whimper, and it makes your body shudder to hear those words rasp from his lips, wet and red with your kisses. Your back arches and you’re riding him with some new fire in you, even as your thighs tremble and your hips begin to ache.

Sukuna’s fingers are digging into your forearms, hard enough to promise a Morse code of bruises for you to read in the morning. His grip seizes; he releases to grab desperately at your hips again.

“Oh – ”

And Sukuna comes, hot and thick and roaring your name. Your inner muscles compress with clenching over his cock; the punching, dull ache behind your belly button fluttering so tantalizingly close to an orgasm as he climaxes in you. It shoots through and you moan, lifting a hand to clutch at yourself at the sensation – at your cheek, at your throat, squirming at the lewd sense of him.

Sukuna pants. His breath is hot and short as he finishes. He lets go of you, his palms giving a few, sweaty pats. His hips push back and dip into the couch and his cock begins to slide out of you with a slickness.

“Oh – “ you say, and you whimper, grabbing at him again. “Please – please not yet – I’m so close – ”

“Please?”

Sukuna looks up at you through his eyelashes, and just barely quirks his brow up. “Greedy,” he says. He makes a tongue clicking sound of mock disappointment, and pushes up and stays inside you, still heavy and still thick and warm. “Then you do the work.”

You’re so close, torturingly close, and his cool, dismissive gaze mixed with the heat of his words is almost enough to push you over the edge. You drag your shaking hands down from Sukuna’s shoulders, with skin marked with the crescent moons of your fingernails, down over his chest where his heartbeat betrays the nonchalance in his eyes.

“I want to see you touch yourself,” Sukuna says.

You push your hands against yourself. His grip has come comfortable on your hips, the strength of his wrists keeping you in balance. One of your hands hovers down, the heat of your joined bodies still radiating, the other right below your stomach. You push, gingerly, and a moan slips from you at where his cock sits within you.

When you start to force your thighs back to strength, there’s a sense of pure cream coming from you. You look down and could freeze at the sight – his cum is beginning to practically drool out of your spread folds. You rock your hips, slowly at first, and clumsy. Your body is aching for more and you begin to touch yourself, watching the grace of your fingers and feeling your clit slide beneath your touch. You look back up at Sukuna.

He’s watching beneath heavily lidded eyes, and he’s holding his jaw tight and your hips loose. True to his word – you do the work.

But how long will his stubborn pride win over his desire? His breath is coming faster and faster. You press your hand over your belly and let out a louder whimper for effect.

“Oh… Sukuna…”

No, he can’t let you keep control for long. His left hand moves back and he gives another spanking, a sharp one that makes your leg muscles clench across his body, and you yelp again. “Oh!”

“Yes,” he says.

You whine and press your finger flat against yourself. He’s moving his hips now, this time in a frenzy that makes your blood spin at how you can feel him beneath your belly. You have to drop that hand, to brace yourself for support on the couch, and then you cry out even louder when a hand shoves onto yours between your bodies. Sukuna uses your finger, manipulated under his, to push on your clit, dancing a firm pressure on and off your body.

“Come for me,” he says, his voice raspy. “Come on my cock.”

You groan, turning your head with a fevered madness next to his. “Say it again,” you breathe. “Please, say it again.”

The aching place that he pushes at is tightening.

“Please, Sukuna.”

“Do – what you’re told – and – come.”

His voice is dark and rough, as probing and insistent as his fingers. You let out a shuddering cry as it finally takes you to climax. Your orgasm pulses, throbbing and ebbing as it washes over you. He groans, fat and full within you.

“Oh,” you moan, your face in the crook of his neck.

He lets go of you, his hands sliding away.

With his grip released and offering no resistance, you lean back, bracing your arms against the couch as you climb off his lap.

Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!

Either perfectly timed, or simply within your awareness for the first time, your phone begins to sing.

“Oh,” you say again, and press your hand to your forehead. “Oh, shit. I’m going to be so late now.”

You feel sore and weak, your skin hot and sticky between your thighs. Sukuna has gleams of silver across his legs in the darkness.

“Oops,” Sukuna says in a nasty voice that offers no true apology.

He sits up, and his large fingers encircle your hand as you lean forward to fish for your phone amongst the litter of clothes.

“I meant it,” he says evenly.

“What?”

“Go see your friends. Have fun. Get all dolled up. But I want you to put those panties back on. I want you to feel that, rubbing against you and staining you the rest of the evening. I want you to smell me under your clothes. I want you filthy and mine before the whole city.”

You turn your knees towards him, your breath coming from your mouth. Sukuna reaches next to him, and lifts the mistletoe from the couch over your head once more. His eyes shine in the darkness.

“Give me another kiss.”

A/N: this is admittedly a rework/ edit from a fic i did on my old account with chrollo. merry christmas!!

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes Episode 5: A Very Bad Idea, part 3

Also Entitled: Your Happy Ending

Reuploading this, daddy Tumblr didn't like it the first time

Find Episode 4 here, and part 1 of this 3-parter here

CWs: medical malpractice, medical fetish, medfet, scientists, restraint, sextoy use, implement play, the usual blend of dubcon and noncon this 3-parter has been laced with

I'll probably have to write something nice and vanilla tomorrow as a palette cleanser

########################################

Sunday morning rolled around, as you drifted in and out of consciousness. Your housemate Keith must've heard something when he walked in. Hell, he probably smelled something too. Almost as soon as you heard the door open he ran into the living room and found you lying there.

You were in a pool of sticky gunk, the remnants of two monsters' cum, the bittersweet drug the tentacles had filled you with, and the birthing fluids of your many spawn. He lifted you up, breath catching as the liquids got on his bare skin and you saw the front of his pants tent up. He dragged you by the arm to the bathtub and heaved your shaking, barely responsive form into it, your swollen womb wobbling and churning as he went.

The water pressure from the shower head high above you barely made a dent in the caked-on filth. You could feel your hair was stuck up at odd angles and matted together from the two nights of debauched madness that had robbed you of your wits and closest friend. It took an hour or more to get the worst off you, by when Keith had made you a sandwich and was feeding you morsel by morsel. The first proper food you've had in over a day, or hadn't you noticed, being filled up by one cock or another over the weekend so far.

You lay in the bath. You don't know how long for. Keith stood vigil over you, clasping your hand as you moaned. Then it started. Another wave. Another round of pushing out the infant creatures that grow inside you, each heave of your aching body causing you to orgasm harder and harder, aided and lubricated by the slime they secrete constantly.

Keith screamed, and ran out of the room. As your pounding head steadied out, you could finally look at your children before they ran away.

There were at least couple of dozen of them, each one about the size of your clenched fist. They looked like knotted balls of cord, if the cord was alive. You could already tell which tentacles would do what: tiny suckers on some designed to bind their mates' limbs, some tipped with eyes to appraise which would make the best mothers, others were thick and smooth already oozing with the slick bitter fluid that made you feel so good. The last type of tentacle was the most important. Long and thin, almost delicate-looking, these are the ovipositors.

A different man entered the room, dressed in the green of a paramedic. He almost retched when he saw the squirming mass in the tub with you. He lifted you out and between him and his partner you were bundled into the back of an ambulance.

A mask was pulled over your face.

The world went black.

Drifting in and out of awareness.

"... permanent luteal phase..."

"... weird tattoo..."

"... How are they making more mass in there?"

You came to again, properly this time. Strapped to a cold, hard surface. Held on an angle, rather than flat, with a metal bar between your knees keeping your legs apart and secured down. You pulled at your bonds. Rock-solid.

"Subject is awake" a woman's voice from behind you, she sounded bored "no change in physical condition, attempting verbal contact."

She stepped out in front of you. If you hadn't heard her voice you wouldn't have been able to guess. Her face was covered with a plastic hood and a tight-fitting mask. Not a strand of hair was free, nor a single inch of bare skin. "What did this?"

"Tentacles" you murmured

"Yes, they keep coming out of you. What did this?"

"Mine" you started to feel it again. That familiar tingling heat pushing you over the edge. Your pussy started to drip and pulse, your clit throbbing. Your juices flowing down the slab in rivulets and you started to hear wet slapping sounds as the first of your new batch of young fell onto the slab and tumbled away from you.

"Birthing phase has begun. Starting manual stimulation test"

The woman's hand pressed down onto your belly, pushing down your womb. You screamed as the fluid started squirting out of you even faster now. Your babies being squeezed out of you with lewd squelching sounds. The more the woman pressed the harder you squirted until you started leaking the frogspawn eggs that always remained within you.

She let go. Holding a beaker under you and catching the eggs as they oozed out of your still-too-sensetive quim. "Egg sample obtained, abdominal swelling indicates some quantity remains"

Another prick on your neck

Awake again. There was a man in front of you. Where the woman was covered in plastic and rubber, he was wearing simple scrubs. Something else is strapped to your leg, long and thin, with a cable leading behind your leg, presumably off the table.

"Subject awake, starting test"

The device started whirring and buzzing. You gasped. A vibrator was strapped to you, pushing up against your clit and labia. The effect wasn't as immediate as the fluid. You'd almost forgotten how it felt to cum like this, being tormented gradually, gradually, gradually.

The pressure rose and rose inside you until you couldn't take it any more. You cried out as your body spasmed and you came hard against the relentless buzzing on your cunt.

Then it really started.

As if called forth by your release, the tingling started. You began to shake and convulse, pushing out babies as the vibrator kept you going on and on. Over and over it kept going. Tears welled in your eyes as a combination of numb pain and ecstatic pleasure rolled around your head. You could see your dozens of children rolling across the floor.

The man started screaming too. The creatures started climbing. The thin fabric of his clothes started to smoke and disintegrate under their touch. He was already rock hard. The screaming stopped. He looked at you, and approached.

His hands were on you in an instant. Groping at your tits and grabbing handfuls of your hair as he struggled to line up his already twitching cock with your pulsing and leaking pussy, still dripping with the aphrodisiac fluid, only driving him madder.

His face pressed into yours and you opened your mouth to suck on his tongue as he pushed it inside. You could feel your young climbing over both of you now, spreading tingling heat and desire in trails over you.

He slipped inside. You bucked your hips against him, making the most of your limited movement as he frantically pounded your exhausted flesh. You could feel his cock twitching and pulsing before he cried out again. Heat filled you up and he buried his head into your neck.

Another prick. Another spell of blackness

When you recovered it was similar. The same merciless vibrator strapped to you. The same woman's voice piped into the room. Always a different man. Over and over you would wake and be brought to a dozen screaming orgasms, then be fucked senseless by whoever they trapped in with you. Then a prick, and back to sleep.

This hasn't stopped yet.

You don't know how long it's been. You don't know why they are doing this. One thing is certain

You like it here

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 25 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

“Surrender to me. I will eat this sweet pussy every morning for breakfast. I will be your slave.”

You don’t believe him, of course, but there is a growing desperation in his pleas that fills you with warning. He’s been patient with you, but you wonder if someday this man will not snap.

He has you tied up again.

You’d watched him produce the red ropes earlier with resignation, but surprisingly, no fear. You realize that you have arrived at a place of relative numb, where you have accepted he will not satisfy you without your submission, but you trust him not to really hurt you.

Drive you absolutely batshit insane, maybe. But not hurt you.

You’ve had time to think about it, and you know there are so many things he could have done by now to really win your compliance. He could have beat you. Starved you. Drugged you. All the usual dirty tricks men have used to keep independent women in line over the millennia.

He has not so much as spanked you, really, except for that once the other day, and even you know that had been child’s play.

More and more, you have come to understand that this man has been through it. He’s told you more about his brutal past, curled up with his head in your lap, spilling his soul to you while you stroked his dark hair. You have discovered that once he feels safe, the taciturn Mr. Wick actually has a lot to say.

If you hadn’t been sleeping beside him, the signs of PTSD might have escaped your notice. But after over a week in his non-stop company, you have woken beside him when he’s riddled with night terrors, his strong hands gripping your body hard enough to leave bruises. Sometimes he zones out, and you know he's not really seeing the room you're in. 

After hearing about his training (as a fucking child soldier!) and the things he had to do to survive over the years working for the Bratva, trapped in a cycle of violence he had little power to escape or control, you honestly think it’s a miracle that he’s come out of it as intact as he has—and goddamn if there isn’t a part of you that wonders if you cannot bring him back.

You should know better by now, than to think you can fix a man with your love. It’s a mistake you’ve made before, in your younger years, and you should know that nothing lies down that path but disappointment and heartbreak. But…what else do you have to do with your time?

Take up knitting?

You had watched him with a distant fascination, as he looped your wrists in the cord, securing them with beautiful knots before affixing your spread arms to the metal headboard. You had thought the curled iron design of the bed to be very pretty, but now you understand the form of it is perfect for knotting ropes in various positions.

You’re not sure how long he’s been torturing you with his tongue, bringing you right to the edge licking your clit with his fingers buried inside you, before withdrawing right at the last moment. He always fucking knows, even when you do your best to remain still as a stone. You have been going through your days in a constant state of low-burning arousal, perpetually wet with slick and uncomfortably swollen. You feel where his body has been every time you sit down, keenly aware of what he’s done, and what he hasn’t allowed you.  

“My poor darling,” he continues to taunt you, taking a break to nip at the inside of your thigh, your soft flesh already riddled with little bruises. “Why do this to yourself, when with three little words I could set you free?”

You cannot hold in your ragged sigh. “It’s kind of nostalgic really, just like my first boyfriend in high-school. Getting fucked constantly with no real hope of satisfaction…”

Wick responds to this with a snarl, the way you knew he would. Jesus Christ but his teeth are sharp. Suddenly he sucks at your clit with a vengeance, making you squirm and cry out in surprise. Of course he stops before you even have the chance to make use of the friction.

“I do not want to hear about the other men you’ve had in your life,” he cautions you. “I’m the only one who counts now.”

“Could have fooled me.”

When he gets on his knees with a dark look, you do feel some satisfaction. You’ve learned if you piss him off enough, he’ll try to punish you by taking his pleasure and leaving you hanging. At this point, you’re just relieved that it’s over.

“That smart mouth needs filling,” he growls, guiding his tip to your lips, and you let him fuck your face, sucking his glans messily with a swirl of your tongue the way you’ve learned drives him mad. The only time he catches a hint of teeth is not your fault, but his, in his enthusiasm for trying to shove his cock down your throat. It’s not long before he cums, spilling hot seed across your tongue. Some of it dribbles down your chin, and he wipes it across your lips with narrowed eyes, daring you to spit it out.

You’re foolhardy, but you’re not stupid. You lap it from his finger like a good girl, watching the post-orgasm glaze take over his midnight dark eyes.

The monster will be sated, for a little while.

You’ve bought yourself time, but no real relief.

[fuhlensworld]

୨⎯ Red waves ⎯୧

Pelle ohlin x Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・

Tw:period oral,AFAB! Reader,cursing,hair pulling,pet names, reader being in pain from cramps,oral fem receiving,slight fluff,slight cnc, Dom!pelle

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.

Laying in bed,you wiped little tears off your face, your cramps had been so painful and your boyfriend Pelle had been gone all day with the band working on their new song. You were curled up in your favorite fuzzy blanket, the stuffed animal Pelle had bought you in hand,when you heard the door open and your boyfriend call out to you.

“Sweetheart I’m home dude varg was getting on my last fucking nerve tod- baby? Oh baby are you okay?” He says as he walks into the room and sees you a crying mess in your shared bed.

“Y yeah m’just having really bad cramps”

You say as you sniffle and look at him with glossy eyes.

“Aww my poor baby” he says as he pulls you in for a hug,

“You know what would make you feel better” he says with a smirk on his face

You assumed he meant a nice movie and a cuddle sesh but oh we’re you wrong.

“What?” You say as you move to get in a more comfortable position

“If I gave you some head” he says as he rubs your tummy

“Pelle no! Thats nasty im not gonna let you give me h head when I’m on my period!” You said to him, even though some head sounded good right now you never had it when you were on your period so you were unsure.

“Oh baby but I wasn’t asking you” he cooed as he pulled the blanket off of your body and got on top of you and started to plant sweet but firm kisses along your jawline moving down to your neck.

“Fuck Pelle please let’s just do something else” you pleaded with him, it’s not that you didn’t want him to eat you out, you were just embarrassed,what if he was grossed out?

“Shhh baby let me make you feel good you’ll like it I promise,also you don’t really have a choice now do you?” He let out a light chuckle before pulling your pants and panties down,you hid your face in embarrassment but he didn’t care he started kisses your thighs and finally moved his face right at your pussy, he let out a groan as he kicked a stripe from your entrance all the way to your swollen clit.

“F-fuck Pelle please oh my god”

You moaned out forgetting about ever feeling embarrassed in the first place, “that’s right baby just relax, god you taste so damn good” he said diving right back into you, after he spent some time licking your entrance he focused on your aching clit,sucking and giving it little kitten licks.

After some time you felt that knot of pleasure in your tummy coming undone and you grabbed onto his hair and grinder your hips against his face, desperate for more

“Fuck Pelle im gonna cum please please” you moaned out as he gripped into your hips tighter,that’s definitely gonna leave a bruise. Finally the cord snapped and you screamed Pelle’s name as he gave your pussy tiny kitten licks to help you come down from your high.

“You did so good baby” he says as he comes up to kiss you, you didn’t care that he had your blood all over his face, you just wanted to taste him.

You made out with him heavily as he gripped your hair trying to pull you in closer.

“I love you baby” he said as he peppered kisses all over your face

“I love you too now let’s clean this blood off” you said with a light chuckle.

The rest of the night was filled with cuddles and kisses from Pelle!

An:AHH THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT SORRY THIS KNE TOOK SO LONG IVE BEEN BUSY, FEEL FREE TO REQUEST ANYTHING!!!