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pandoraslxna · 1 year

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OMG no bc stepbro lo’ak secretly fingering you under the table

Movie night

Stepbro Lo‘ak x female Omatikaya reader

Words: 2.3k

Summary: Lo’ak can’t keep his hands to himself. Not even during movie night.

Warnings: explicit smut, stepcest, stepsibling au, aged up characters, innocent reader (I leave it to your imagination if she’s a virgin), slight age difference, they’re very much in public, voyeurism, fingering, little degradation, corruption kink, teasing between (step)siblings

Tonight was movie night at the labs in high camp.

It was a little tradition that Lo‘ak and Spider had started just a few months ago. Norm and Max had allowed them to use the big screen in the common room of the bio laboratory to watch some of the movies they had available. Gradually, more and more people had joined them in their little tradition over the last few weeks. Now there was your stepfather Jake and your stepsiblings Kiri and Neteyam. But also Norm and Max and some of the other scientists. And you, of course. Your stepmother, Neytiri, wasn’t a big fan of the whole thing. She still despised most human technology and basically everything else the humans did, so she usually avoided any unnecessary contact with them. You weren’t even sure if she liked Norm and the others. During movie night she would rather take care of chores or spend time with Tuk. The youngest wasn’t allowed to join anyways, since most of these movies weren’t exactly meant for children. Today was horror movie night on top of all.

The concept of horror or movies in general was still quite new to you, so you decided to settle as close to your stepbrother Lo‘ak as possible. Lo’ak had always been good at these human things. He was curious and eager to learn, so he understood these things pretty fast. And he enjoyed playing his big brother role very much, teaching you about them and easing your anxiety by explaining that the things you were watching weren’t real and it was all fiction and technology. He bought you great comfort.

Somewhere during the first thirty minutes of the movie, Lo’ak had pulled you onto his lap, his arms encircled your middle and his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. Every once in a while, he planted a soft kiss to your temple or along your jaw. It’s was such an innocent gesture, so naturally that you two showed affection towards one another that nobody in the room even batted an eye. Your arms were resting on the table in front of you, mindlessly drawing patterns onto the tabletop and your eyes were entirely fixed on the screen in the front. You were sitting a little far behind in the left corner of the room, so it was a good thing that the screen was rather big and you were able to see perfectly fine from back there.

Lo’ak however, had a very hard time concentrating and following the movies plot. He was too busy focusing on the feeling of your soft bottom pressed tight against his crotch, where his erection grew with every passing second. He mentally cursed your choice of clothing today. Nothing else but this thin piece of woven fabric separated your privat parts from his cock. Worst of all was probably, that he was to one that had made this loincloth for you– with exactly that thought in mind.

You were painfully unaware about how much you were affecting your stepbrother, when you squirmed in his lap like that. Pressing yourself further against his crotch whenever you got scared. In the corner of his eyes, he watched the way you chewed on your bottom lip and how your breath hitched whenever the masked killer was on screen. You were adorable like this.

Lo’ak couldn’t help the way his hands wandered over your belly, caressing your skin as if they had a mind on their own. Experimentally, he dipped them a little lower, tracing the faint stripes on your lower abdomen and hips. His touches slowly grew more confident and bold over time. Sliding his hands over your thighs, he begins to massage your soft flesh, paying special attention to the squishy insides of your legs. Your skin was warm and smooth there. You weren’t unfamiliar with his touch, not even on those parts of your body. You didn’t resist him, when he wedged your legs slightly apart to make room for his hands. He could feel your tail, gently swaying next to his leg, making it known that you were relaxed and content. Maybe a little excited, but that was probably because of the movie.

Discreetly, Lo‘ak glanced around the room. Neither his friends nor his family payed any attention to him, everyone seemingly focused on the movie. Good.

His hands slide just a little further, until his thumb followed the outline of where your loincloth covered your sex. You were so lost in the bright, flashing movements in the front of the room, that you barely registered what was happening. Until Lo’aks thumb glides over the thin fabric resting over your folds. You inhaled sharply, but not loud enough for anyone to hear. The movie was too loud anyways.

You blink a few times, as if you were trying to gather your thoughts and make out what your stepbrother was doing. You were used to him being touchy with you, showing you just a little more affection than your other siblings, touching you in ways that stepsiblings weren’t supposed to touch each other. But Lo’ak always assured you that it was normal and that you should just let it happen if it felt good. Sure, hugs and cuddles and kisses felt good, very good even– but this was something completely new. It made your stomach tingle, almost the same way it did when he kissed you with his tongue.

Meanwhile, Lo’ak repeats the same motion again. He adds a little more pressure over the thin cloth, enough to part your lips under his touch to feel for your clit. Even covered by your loincloth, he expertly found the little nub of pleasure. Once found, he presses down on it and instantly, your eyes widen and your back straightens.

"Lo’ak?", you call out for him softly, barely turning your head in his direction as you spoke because you were just too flustered to look at him right now.

"It’s okay, just… just pay attention to the movie, yeah?", he whispered, sounding almost breathlessly as he spoke against the shell of your ear. You swallowed thickly, but like the good little sister that you were, you nodded and tried your best to regain focus on the plot.

At some point when the killer lured one of the human teenagers into his cabin somewhere in the woods, you felt Lo’ak pull your loincloth to the side.

His fingertips were ghosting over your flesh, with barely enough pressure, yet you were already panting. His index finger slides through your soft folds and you hear him exhale a shaky breathe behind you.

"You’re so wet, what’s got you all excited?", he whispered along a soft, content hum. You could literally feel the way your cheeks changed color, from blue to purple, because you were just so flustered from your big brothers filthy words. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond to him. You didn’t even dare to open your mouth, too scared that a moan could slip out at any second. Especially, when he begins to circle your clit with his thumb again.

His index finger then glides over your entrance, spreading your slickness and coating his digits in those clear juices. Ever so carefully, he slips his very fingertips into your cunt. Just an inch, before he pulls out again. You visibly tense above him, while he repeats the motion a few times. You bite your lip hard enough to keep quiet.

Slowly, Lo’ak slides his finger deeper inside, deep enough until his last knuckle disappeared past your tight opening. He places a tender kiss on your bare shoulder, before he begins to thrust his finger in and out of you. It’s slow, but enough to make you gasp and huff out tiny breaths of air.

"Shh, you have to be quiet, okay?"

He was one to talk. Right when the words had left his lips, he pushed a second finger into you. Your hand, that was resting against the tabletop just a few minutes ago, quickly comes up to cover your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut when he begins to scissor you open.

Lo’ak could already feel you clench around his digits and you were slick enough, that it slowly begun to produce faint squelching sounds. Thankfully, the movie was getting to its high point and the dramatic music mixed with the screams of the killers victims overturned your soft whimpers and the obscene sounds that your pussy made.

"Lo‘ak I’m… I‘m really trying, but—", you turn your head enough so he could hear your quiet whimpers, but he quickly shushed you.

"I know, baby. Does your big brother make you feel good? Feeling all special down there, hm?" He tilted his head and you got a glimpse of the smug grin on his face. Nodding your head quickly, Lo’ak kisses your cheek affectionately. "Try to focus", he then tells you, acting like he was paying attention to the movie again. You try your best to do like him, but it was getting more difficult with every thrust of his fingers.

When his other hand finally joins him under your loincloth, you almost loose it altogether. Now he was using both of them, one hand circling your clit with the one was busy burying two of his thick digits into your tight pussy.

Mindlessly, you buck your hips in an attempt to try and move away from him, the sensation of his hands all over your private parts simply being too much for you when you weren’t allowed to make any noise. You arch your back a little, your bottom pressing harder against his crotch only to feel his throbbing cock right there where you were sitting.

He was hard beneath you, impossible to ignore, yet there was no way you could do anything to help him out with this. Not here, to say the least. But Lo’ak didn’t even made any intentions for you to do so. You could clearly feel him twitch against the curve of your bottom, desperately waiting to get touched, yet Lo‘ak only payed attention to you. Seemingly taking pleasure by simply playing with you, teasing you in a room full of people. He carefully grinds himself against you a few times, but that was it. It would’ve been too obvious for anyone else if he kept doing that though. You, almost humping his hands was enough to hide already.

The pace in which he pumped his fingers in and out of your pussy has you squirming in his lap, toes curling and biting your tongue to prevent yourself from moaning out loud. The way he was rubbing your clit simultaneously, switching between slow and fast, as if he wanted you to become vocal, drove you quicker to the edge than you thought was even possible.

But then, on the other side of the room, your stepfather coughs and shifts in his seat. It startles you enough to squeeze painfully tight around Lo’aks fingers.

"Easy, sis", he coos next to your ear, "It’s okay, I’ve got you. They won’t see anything, don’t worry."

You squeezed your eyes shut once again and tried not to think about all the people in the room, because it just felt too good to stop now. The strokes of his fingers, the way he rubbed your clit as if he could read your mind, as if he did this a thousand times already and knew exactly how to make you come.

His speed picked up slightly, only making you whimper again. You leaned forward enough to rest your head on the table, encircled by your own arms to make it look like your were just tired. In reality, you bit down hard on your bottom lip and your eyes crossed before they rolled to the back of your head.

The soft, wet walls of your pussy were clamping down on his digits, tightening even more as the rest of you was starting to tense too. You could feel yourself right on the edge, his thick fingers pumping into you with vigour, your arousal running down between your legs, soaking his fingers where he was rubbing your throbbing clit over and over.

Your body trembled in his lap from the efforts of keeping any noises inside, when Lo’ak didn’t bother to slow down, carrying you thoroughly through every second of your climax until you were limp and whimpering quietly against your palm that was now covering your mouth again.

How he had managed to make you come harder with his hands than you ever had with your own was fucking beyond you.

When Lo’ak finally pulled his hand away and discreetly rearranged your loincloth, you slowly sit up again, letting your back rest against his front. You were spent, chest rapidly rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath again. In the corner of your eye, you watch Lo’ak lick his fingers clean with a wet pop.

Not shortly after, the lights of the common room are turned on again and you squint your eyes until they have adjusted to the brightness.

"And? How did you like it, guys?", Spider gleefully approached you both as soon as the blinds went up again and everyone had started their little chitter chatter about the movie, "You look a little shaken, everything alright?" He looked at you with genuine concern for a moment. At least until Lo’ak bursted out laughing, "She’s such cry baby, she was super scared the whole time. You should’ve seen her, bro! Maybe we should leave her with Tuk next time if these are too scary for her, right sis?" Lo’ak pinched your cheek teasingly and you couldn’t help but blush even harder at his words, a little pout forming when they both laughed at that.

You squirmed in Lo‘aks lap, cringing, as you felt your own slickness smear between your thighs with the movement of his laughter. Spider then turned his attention back to you, with both eyebrows raised high, as if he had just made a great discovery, "Ohh so that’s why you were hiding your face in the end? C’mon, it wasn’t even that scary!"

#avatar 2 #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #awow #loak x reader #loak x female reader #loak #atwow loak #loak fanfiction #loak sully #lo’ak #lo’ak te suli tsyeyk’itan #lo’ak sully #lo’ak x reader

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fxrmuladaydreams · 5 months

Text

red flags (cs55)

🤍sequel to drunken bets🤍

carlos x mclaren social media!reader

summary: some new information comes to light that taints your perfect relationship

notes: i know i said this was only going to be two parts, but it’s actually going to be three

prev part next part

You wipe the tears from your face as you practically run outside. He calls your name and attempts to run after you, but gets stopped by people who just want a moment with the Singapore Grand Prix winner. You feel like you’re suffocating, surrounded by people, your lungs closing up, until you’ve made it outside. You gasp, and squeeze your eyes shut as a wave of tears spill down your cheeks.

The bottom of your dress is crumpled, most likely from when you were squeezing it in your hands. The dark red fabric makes you feel sick. It’s just another reminder that he played you, and you fell for it.

You scold yourself. You should’ve seen the red flags appearing, but maybe after that week in Spain you had gotten used to looking at him through rose colored glasses.

You were happy to get back to work after your little vacation with Carlos. You felt like you were in a genuinely good place. You had the job of your dreams, and an amazing boyfriend.

Your walks into the paddock with the Spaniard had become routine before your trip, but now he kept your hand intertwined with his, holding you close as you walked through the crowds. He leaves you at the McLaren building with a soft kiss on your cheek, which leaves you giddy for the rest of the day.

He meets you after work so you can both go back to your hotel together, spending your time in one room together rather than separate rooms.

To anyone outside of the paddock it simply looked like your friendship had grown. You had found a confidant to spend your time with. But to those who saw you regularly, they could see there was something more, something you weren’t sharing with the rest of the world yet.

Lando pulled you aside one day after Carlos gives you a soft kiss on the cheek and whispers a sweet goodbye to you then walks off, on his way to his own garage.

“That was quite affectionate.” He says. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest and a grin on his face. “But then again, Carlos did always have a thing for McLaren employees.” He gestures to himself.

You scoff and nudge him away from you. “It was nothing.” But you can’t stop the smile from spreading on your face.

“What did he say to you? Was it ‘Y/n, I love you so much, let’s run away together!’” He spins and clasps his hands under his chin.

You try to shush him, but you’ve come to learn there’s almost no stopping the dramatics of Lando Norris.

“Oh come on! I’m only joking!” He says in between laughs. “Besides, it’s obvious he’s obsessed with you anyways.”

You shake your head. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for qualifying?”

“Shouldn’t you be editing? Instead I find you out here about to lock lips with the enemy.” He teases as he walks back into the garage.

“Since when is Carlos your enemy?” You call out, following him.

That night you lay with Carlos in your hotel room. You wear one of his t-shirts that falls just past your underwear. He wears a pair of grey sweatpants. You lay with your head resting on his bare chest, your fingers softly tracing delicate patterns over his tanned torso. He has an arm behind his head, and the other over you, lazily running his hand up and down your back.

Lando’s words from earlier echo in your head.

It’s obvious he’s obsessed with you.

“Carlos?” You lift your head resting your chin on his chest to look in his eyes. “Have you ever thought about going public? With our relationship?”

He doesn’t answer at first, sending your heart plummeting into your stomach. He takes a deep breath before taking the hand the rests against his chest in his.

“I have. But I didn’t know if we should. You’re a private person and I want to respect that.” He says, softly squeezing your hand.

Your heart suddenly feels to full, full of love for him. You tilt your head down and place a soft kiss to his chest. “Thank you, really.”

You sit in silence for a few minutes, just admiring one another, then you speak again.

“I want to kiss you in the paddock.” Your voice is soft, your words trailing off at the end. “I want to be able to kiss you in front of other people, maybe then Lando will stop with the teasing.”

“You want to kiss me in front of Lando?” He giggles.

You give him a dramatic exasperated sigh, but laugh as you answer. “No, I just want to be able to kiss you whenever I want to. Whether that be in front of Lando or not.”

“I don’t know mi amor.” He sighs. “I don’t want anyone else to ruin what we have.”

This should have been your first red flag, his wanting to keep your relationship a secret.

“Oh, alright…” You murmur, leaning your head back down to lay against his chest.

You lay in silence for a few moments until Carlos shifts. He kisses the top of your head and holds you tighter against him.

“If you really want to, we can go public.” He says softly.

You look back up at him. “Really? You’re not just saying that because I want to?”

“No, I would love to be able to kiss you in front of Lando too.” He teases you.

You scoff and lightly smack his chest. “I don’t think I want to kiss you anymore, actually.”

When you start to get up Carlos pulls you back down to him, rolling over to keep you under him, locked in his arms. He peppers your face in kisses, leaving no skin free from the touch of his lips.

You squeal when he softly tickles your sides, laughter from both of you filling the room.

Later that night as you get ready to go to bed, Carlos sits on the bed with his phone in his hand and a disgruntled look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, as you climb into bed next to him.

He quickly locks his phone and sets it face down on the bedside table.

“Nothing.” His answer is quick and brief as he wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face into your neck. “Goodnight, mi amor.”

“Goodnight Carlos.”

The next day starts the same as the previous one, you walk hand in hand with Carlos into the paddock as he guides you to the McLaren garage. This time though when you stop in front of the entrance he gives you a questioning glance. He smiles when you nod and tilts his head down to capture your lips with his.

It’s not the first time you’ve kissed Carlos, not by a long shot, but it’s different kissing him somewhere that isn’t in a hotel room or on a secluded faraway vacation. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

You smile into the kiss, pulling away only when you feel his tongue slip into your mouth. You press your hands to his chest and let out a light laugh.

“Slow down there Chili, they don’t need to see everything.” You tell him.

He’s got a faint dusting of pink over his cheeks as he nods. “I’m sorry amor, I just can’t help it when I’m with you.”

You hear a gagging sound behind you, you turn to see none other than Lando Norris, dramatically hunched over the railing on the side of the ramp that leads inside.

“You two are disgusting.” He says, shaking his head.

“Jealous Lando?” Carlos calls back to him.

Lando scoffs. “No! You’re just getting your Ferrari germs all over her, you muppet!”

“And I’ll keep doing it too!” He kisses you again, this time making a show about it as he fully leans into you, sending Lando into a hissy fit.

News travels among the grid quickly. While no photos or recordings of your affections have been spread, though fans are still suspicious, it seems everyone in the paddock is quickly informed about your relationship.

Once fans do start to catch on, it spreads like wildfire. Your relationship with the Ferrari driver becomes the hot topic of conversation all over social media. Tweets, photos, and edits of and about the two of you flood your phone, so much so that you try to ignore it for a while.

You know you’re the one who wanted to go public, but you can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. An uncomfortable feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as fans start to refer to you as “the boat girl”. Photos from your Spain trip are now attached to your name. None of them are all too bad, but it does feel like a major invasion of privacy.

It makes you feel vulnerable. These people that know nothing about you have access to these photos of you wearing your swimsuit, cuddled up with your boyfriend while you thought you were alone.

It doesn’t take long for you to start wondering what this means for your future. You’re officially a WAG now, what would happen if you and Carlos were to ever break up? Would you still only be known as “the boat girl”? Would people even remember the work you’ve done at McLaren?

While you want to talk to Carlos about it, you know there’s not much he can do. He’s used to this, he’s been a famous Formula One driver for years now. You try to swallow down your discomfort and just focus on your current relationship and your work.

Since you’ve gone public, Carlos can’t seem to look away from his phone for more than a few minutes. You don’t know what he’s looking at, every time you get near him he’s quick to turn it off and shove it in his pocket, instead wrapping you up in his arms.

When asked about what he was doing he’d simply say “Nothing amor.” Then bury his face in your neck, giving you little kisses.

Clearly he was hiding something, another red flag.

Everything came crashing down at the Singapore grand prix.

With Max having been knocked out of qualifying by a surprised Liam Lawson, it left the rest of qualifying up in the air for everyone. Carlos had managed to pull through, earning himself the P1 starting spot, and through carefully calculated driving was able to keep P1 for himself and give Lando a P2 finish.

The crowd was roaring, this was the first race of the season that wasn’t won by a Red Bull driver, and fans were eating it up.

He jumped out of his car, and tossed his helmet to the side. His hair was wet, slick with sweat yet still effortlessly beautiful. His cheeks were tinted red, and a bright grin was spread across his face.

It was no surprise to anyone, well any of the other drivers, to see him dash over to the McLaren team and sweep a girl wearing papaya into his arms.

His eyes sparkled in the shining lights, you couldn’t help yourself, jumping up into his arms and kissing him.

He spun you around, practically jumping with joy. He was a little disgruntled to have to let you go, but thrilled again when he got to hug Lando. Nothing could bring him down from this high he was experiencing.

He sprays you with champagne from above, laughing as you look up at him with a fake pout on your lips.

You knew that celebrations were in order, not only for your boyfriend but for Lando as well, the two eager to go to a club to celebrate their wins.

You pulled out a dress you had been hoping to wear. It was a dark red color, the fabric soft between your fingers. You had been saving it for a while, hoping to surprise Carlos with it, and what better way than to wear his team’s color after he won?

He was surprised to see you in the new dress, his eyes trailing up and down your body, as if trying to commit you to memory.

“Mi amor… you look beautiful.” He practically groans, pulling you flush against him. “We could just stay here, celebrate on our own? I’d love to see if there’s anything else this beautiful under the dress…” His lips trail over your neck as he lets himself drown in the scent of your perfume.

“C’mon Chili, you’ve got people who want to celebrate you, we can celebrate later.” You wink, lacing your fingers with his as you tug him down the hall.

The club is loud, buzzing with excitement as people cheer when they spot Carlos. He keeps an arm locked around your waist so you don’t stray too far from him and he won’t lose you in the crowd. You were right, everyone wants a piece of your boyfriend tonight. You’re both dragged from person to person, trying to at least feign interest in those who are talking to you.

Carlos slowly sips on one drink throughout the night, allowing you to have a few without worry. You feel a slight buzz by the time you reach a few of the other drivers. Max leans against the wall, seemingly in deep conversation with Charles. Alex and George sit with Lily and Carmen. Oscar and Logan stand with each other chatting and glancing over at the rest of the crowd. Lando hops back and forth between groups, but visibly lights up when he sees the two of you.

“I’ll be right back amor.” Carlos says before kissing your cheek and heading to the bar. You see him start talking with Pierre and Lance, then your attention is pulled away by Lando.

“Already wearing red? My poor heart!” He exclaims, throwing a hand over his forehead.

You laugh. “Just for tonight. Tomorrow it’s back to papaya.”

You hang out with him for a little while longer, then excuse yourself to go back to Carlos.

Once at the bar it’s made pretty clear that Pierre and Lance have both had plenty to drink. They’ll definitely feel the repercussions of it tomorrow morning.

Carlos throws an arm over your shoulder as you nestle into his side.

“They’re so cute.” Lance says, looking over at Pierre.

“Thank you.” You feel your face flush.

“You’ll have a great story for your kids about how you met.” Pierre hiccups, then giggles.

“Yeah, walking into each other multiple times blossomed into a friendship, and now look at us.” You beam up at Carlos, who looks uncomfortable as he nods down at you.

“You walked into her? That was your big move? I need to use that!” Pierre laughs.

“Big move? What do you mean?” You ask Pierre.

“Amor-”

“His big move to get you to go out with him. He did it, and now I’ve lost money to him.” Pierre groans.

You feel a tingling sensation spread over you as you turn to look at Carlos. His arm drops from your shoulders.

“What is he talking about?”

“The bet, obviously.” Lance shrugs, then turns back to the bar.

“It was all a bet?” Your voice is soft, cracking slightly as you let your emotions wash over you.

When you turn back to him with tears in your eyes he can feel his heart break. He reaches for your hand, only for you to pull your back from him, almost flinching away.

“Mi amor-”

“Don’t call me that.” You back away from him.

“Y/n, please, I can explain.”

“Explain what? That you used me? And now you’ve got what you wanted, so you’re ready to toss me aside?”

“No!” He tries to step towards you again.

“It was all just a bet! None of it was real? The trip to Spain? The nights in hotel rooms? You probably hired that photographer yourself, right?”

“I would never! It started as a bet, but I promise you, my feelings are real!”

“How much did you bet them? Huh?” You reach into your bag and grab a wad of cash, shoving it into his chest. “That should cover it, right?” You scoff, and turn from him, towards the exit of the club.

“Y/n, wait!” He tries to call after you.

“It’s okay Carlos. You won your bet. Now you won’t have to see me ever again.” You tell him, rushing for the exit.

You finally let the tears fall once you’re outside, cursing the day you met the Ferrari driver and the day you gave him your heart.

#carlos sainz x reader #cs55 x reader #formula one x reader #carlos sainz

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intergalacticfop · 7 months

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Minoan Kilt

The large, structural skirt worn by Minoan women in art is instantly recognizable, and when I made my own I combined current best guesses with my own personal tastes.

My kilt shape follows the hypothesis laid out by Bernice Jones in her book Ariadne's Threads: The Construction and Significance of Clothes in the Aegean Bronze Age. She describes the shape of that of a labrys, a double-headed axe with apparent ceremonial significance in Ancient Minoan culture. This garment may be depicted in Linear-B logogram *166 + we, we-being the backwards-s-shaped squiggle in the center which identifies the piece as a garment.

See pages 336 and 341 in Marie-Louise B. Nosch, The Textile Logograms in the Linear B Tablets

Actual details on construction and materials below the cut:

Construction:

The top and bottom edges of the kilt are concave, so the sides are longer than the middle. This gives the chevron-shape seen on layered kilts in art. In addition, the curved top half makes the skirt flare out, accommodating the hips and giving more freedom of movement to the legs. My kilt measured from my waist to my anklebone at the longest point, and about 1.5 times around my waist.

I chose to make a flounced kilt, with smaller strips of fabric and trim applied to a large base piece, rather than a tiered kilt, in which multiple kilt shapes of varying length are layered one on top of the other, so you end up wrangling 3 layers of fabric around the waist. The flounced kilt saves fabric and gives you a lot more freedom with whatever trim you might want. Jones' diagram for a flounced kilt is seen below:

Unlike the version in the diagram above, I chose not to attach ties to the garment itself both because the linen I used was very heavy and I was concerned about weight, and also because folding the skirt and securing it with a separate tie worked just fine for my tastes. In total I had four flounces: 2 alternating rows each of fabric and fringe.

The vertical edges of most kilts are left plain, probably representing either the selvage or an edge otherwise finished off to prevent fraying. For my kilt, however, I ended up with a couple inches of self-fringe on either side as I adjusted the fabric to the correct width. At least three examples of kilts with fringed vertical edges are known, all three from the so-called "House of the Ladies" in Akrotiri

Photos from Wikimedia Commons. Image 1. Image 2.

The vertical edges of these kilts are reinforced with a colored band or tape, probably to keep the garment from unintentional further fraying. Accordingly, I did the same on my kilt. I also like that it gave a nice vertical diagonal to counterbalance the horizontal ones.

Materials

I tried to use mainly linen and wool, the fibers most available on Ancient Crete, but some of my trim was cotton because sometimes you just have to use what's cheap and available in the today times.

The base of my kilt is a heavy, patterned linen in what's called a diaper weave, meaning that a repeating diamond pattern is woven into the pattern itself. A lot of the Minoan textiles depicted in frescoes are characterized by repeating geometric patterns, likely woven into the fabric itself, and that was something I wanted to capture in my own piece. My linen is woven with both cream and natural colored threads. The heavy weight is important to give structure to the garment--otherwise it would be kind of limp. My linen was from Burnley & Trowbridge (shameless plug), as was the plain cotton twill tape I used to bind the top and bottom edges of the kilt, and the dark red wool twill tape I used along the vertical edges.

I bought my cotton fringe from a rug supply store. I had to search a while to find a fringe that would work for me, and I ultimately chose fringes with a woven header rather than the more common knotted one, so that it would lay flat against the kilt. I hid the woven header under a layer of cotton fringed trim from Michaels (yes, Michaels) with this really great diamond and dots pattern woven in black.

The blue layers are from a bolt of vintage wool Kimono fabric. Blue appears frequently in frescoes, likely achieved with indigo or woad dye, or even murex/mollusk dye. The fabric is printed with an imitation ikat pattern of diamonds and squares that made me think "the vibes seem right!" because quite frankly, you aren't going to get "historically accurate" Minoan textiles (which there probably isn't enough archaeological evidence to definitively describe) without, like, hand-weaving it yourself or paying someone hundreds of dollars to do it for you (and that price is if the weaver really likes you). Neither of which appealed to my desire to just make a fun, low stress project. Good enough is good enough.

The narrow trim on the bottom of the blue flounces is vintage cotton/poly woven trim. This trim, while narrow, was quite thick and stiff, which was great because it added more weight and structure to the end of my flounces since the wool fabric itself was quite thin.

The top layer is a custom tablet-woven wool trim that I commissioned from MAHTAVAhandicraft on Etsy. I imagined this as the "centerpiece" of my kilt, and I'd arrange everything to complement it.

It's a kivrim pattern, which has itself only been traced to 19th-century Anatolia, but I didn't care. The way it looks like waves reminded me of how central the sea was to life in the Ancient Aegean and Mediterranean and it captured the idea and aesthetic I was pursuing. I mean, doesn't it remind you of these dolphins?

(I like the dolphins)

The whole thing was machine sewn with the exception of hemming and adding trim to the blue flounces. If you were to look at it from the back, you'd see lots of zigzag stitches, because i wanted to be fast! and have fun! not chase some unreachable ideal of "accurate."

As for wearing it, I chose to wear it with the top part folded/rolled down over a belt, so I have a thick tube of fabric around my waist. Many images, like the frescoes above of women with fringed kilts, appear to just show the kilt being tied closed. Other images are so fragmented or stylized that it's unclear what kind of skirt closure was used. Sculptures and figurines definitely show some kind of SOMETHING around the waist, whether this is folded fabric or a kind of belt is unclear. Different art could show different things!

I think I see evidence of a continuous line from the skirt to the waist-roll on the figure on the left, found in Troas, which I think indicates some kind of skirt-folding situation. The woman on the right, found in Crete, looks more like she's wearing some kind of long coiled belt, or perhaps snakes. Who knows? I don't! For my own part, I found the combination of rolled waist + tie belt the most secure for doing things like kneeling, stomping around, and wading into rivers to rescue bees. I also liked that it gave me the bulk around the hips that gives Minoan figurines such a powerful silhouette, and proportionally gives more of an hourglass shape. If you wanted to do something more firmly grounded in the sources, stick just with the waist tie or belt, wrapped around a couple times and tied in back. If you want to be like me, just say "well we don't KNOW it didn't happen" and just do whatever you want. Have fun! Whatever happens, it should be fairly easy to move around in the kilt--this is not a restrictive garment, just a heavy one.

#minoan #minoan crete #historical costuming #bronze age #reference #resources

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mayakern · 24 days

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hiiii it's me! devin! ur favorite!

maya is still banned from doing big business things on social media while she takes time to rest and detoxify from the poison that is running social media full time for ten years. everybody clap! yay!

i'm here to share some info on our button-up shirt and dress preorders!

as many of you already know, i lost my anti-preorder campaign due to the high minimum per design. there's been some confusion and uncertainty. carsyn's doing her best but preorders are overwhelming and i have some time today

SO TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS:

how close are you to hitting the minimum goal for the button-up shirts and dresses?

not close lol. as of 4/26 we're at about 8% funded. i refuse to panic until after may 3rd

why the funeral design?

the funeral design won our design poll

initially we were going to run preorders for two designs: funeral as well as astronauts. when we got news that the minimum would be 400 garments per design (we're able to spread that across the button-up shirts and dresses) we decided to cut back to one design. we're really not big enough to expect 800 orders on an $80-90 item

why not another design?

another design did not win the design poll

what would have been chosen other than funeral or astronaut?

deadly florals, hiss from a rose, microorganisms, and hands were all the top placers in the design poll after funeral

can you do solid color?

yes

why didn't you do solid color?

you can buy a solid color button-up shirt or dress from anywhere. the plan has always been to introduce these garments in solid color after their initial introduction

...so can you do solid color?

we will consider doing solid color preorders if these preorders bomb

how much would solid color cost?

probably the same. it's not much cheaper. it's faster to make tho

how much would the ecovero viscose cost instead of cotton?

maybe like $10 cheaper

it's really soft tbh but it's a different weave from the viscose for the skirts. it's my number one fabric for the button-ups but alas the cotton fandom won for now

what happens if preorders bomb?

we cancel and refund all preorders.

maybe we'll try again with a different design or with fewer features after we have some time to decompress from the nightmare that is running preorders (can you tell i hate preorders). if they bomb bad enough we may completely nix patterned button-up shirts and dresses. we don't know yet!

does that affect the picnic top?

the picnic top is completely separate. since it's made out of a different fabric it has its own minimum, so it will not be affected by button-up shirt and dress preorders

and like, to be totally honest, it's way cheaper to produce. we can eat some of the cost and just make them. they're small enough to store easily and they're at a lower price point so we can expect to sell them after we receive them, like the wrap tops

btw, we have other ready-to-ship things already in production. we've been working on a whole secret project. surprise!

why did you launch preorders for the button-up shirt/dress at the same time as the picnic top?

the picnic top sample came in with the button-up dress sample and it needed very little alteration. also maya liked it. also we may be developing an entire line inspired by the picnic top so keep an eye out for that next spring

why is the new button-up shirt more expensive than the old button-up shirt?

it's more expensive to make

why is it more expensive to make?

this is a different factory from the one we used before. it's more expensive because they pay their staff a higher wage and likely have other costs

this is a different fabric from the one we used before. it's a stretch cotton with a GOTS certification

this is imported from a different country from the one we used before. turkey has much higher import fees to the US

what is a GOTS certification?

the short version is the fabric itself is more environmentally friendly and produced with more fair labor practices than standard cotton

you can read the long version here here

can you do fulfillment from somewhere other than the US?

we're working on it. it probably won't lower prices tho, since fulfillment centers also cost money

anyway...

none of this is to shame someone for not preordering. groceries are expensive and things are tight, plus it kinda sucks to spend on a tight budget and not get what you ordered for a few months

(can you tell i hate preorders)

i think there's a lot of surprise since we've never done preorders on a single design before, and that's fair! we debated on doing a kickstarter but a) i hate doing kickstarters b) kickstarter takes a percentage of sales and our profit margin on these is already lower than we'd like it to be

i'm tired and i can't remember anything else i wanted to say. i may answer any additional questions from my own tumblr (@punchyemblem and now i'm gonna get a notification that i'm gonna be jumpscared by) but carsyn will be handling most questions

also don't worry, when you say nice things we still show maya. also she's fine, she's just in her (forced and highly necessary and possibly permanent) limited social media era

#devin time #store stuff

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444rockstargf · 22 days

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Hiii! I love your page first of all and second I was thinking about like Spencer Reid x reader to lana del Rey song lust for life, like maybe the song is playing in the background as reader is getting ready for a get together and he feels so overwhelmed with love? Idk I just love lust for life and Spencer Reid

AHH THIS IS MY FAVOURITE REQUEST EVER!! ( p.s. you didn't ask for any smut so I didn't include anything too raunchy. thank you! )

"nobody here, just us together." | spencer reid

lust for life. - lana del rey

fill out the taglist form! : @thirtyratsinasuit @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @sleepysongbirdsings @pleasantwitchgarden @emma-e-a

female!reader x spencer

word count: 701

contents: a little fluffy, making out, sexual implications

your translucent red record spun in the corner of the bedroom, the 70s-inspired tune leaking through the closed bathroom door as you stood in front of the mirror.

you ran your hands down your deep-red silky nightgown, taking in the soft but thin texture of the fabric. you had your hair done up all nicely, applying a light blush to your cheeks for a rosy touch. you could feel spencer’s burning presence through the door, making your nerves buzz with excitement. this was going to be your first night with him. nobody else around, just you and him together.

your little “dates” with him had been going in all the right directions, months of shy flirting and risky innuendos making your certain of his suspected attraction toward you. and now, you’d finally gathered the courage to invite him over for the night.

you took a deep breath, opening the door and displaying yourself to him. you watched a smile pull at his lips as a pink tint stained his cheeks. “there she is…” he said, the words breathy and under his breath. with a few feet of distance separating you two, your eyes travelled along each other’s bodies, the room’s temperature seeming to be growing warm. you had gotten all dolled up, but somehow the simple sight of him in his suit and tie made your knees weaker than anything.

a moment of silence enrobed you two before he stood up slowly, stepping into the dim streaks of amber and golden sunshine that poured from the windows as he approached you. he got closer and closer until two inches of space stood between you two. you tilted your head upward to meet his infatuated gaze, his arm slowly snaking around your waist as he pressed you into the wall behind you.

“words cannot explain how beautiful you are, my dear.” and he was right. the shards of sunset that seeped into the room gave you a gentle glow, making you more luminous than even the brightest star. his breath was heavy as his thumbs massaged slow circles onto your waist, pulling your body into his to fill in the gaps that parted you from him.

your gaze locked with his and a shock sizzled down his core. he wrapped his arms around your waist, picking you up with minimal effort. you wrapped your legs around his waist as he rested his chin in the space between your breasts, your hearts rapidly beating in unison. a lust-filled flicker of his gaze gave you the green light, and you connected your lips in a sloppy kiss.

he groaned deeply, feeding his sounds of arousal into your mouth as his hands moved up to grip your ass. he drank you in with no intention of ever letting you go, your touch seeming like the only thing keeping him alive at this moment. he had been wanting this so badly for the longest time, longing to feel your soft lips against his own in a concealed environment.

he pulled his lips away from yours, holding you even tighter as he began to trail deep kisses down your neck. heavy breaths spilled from your lips as your hands each took in a generous handful of his hair, his golden-brown locks feeling like silk in your grasp.

he had taken control with no doubt or hesitation in his movements. his hands knew the right places to go, his tongue drew the perfect patterns on your soft skin, it was almost too much.

you connected your lips to his forehead as he planted kisses all over your collarbone, pausing to look up at you with hazy eyes. his eyes appeared to have a layer of shine on them, like he was on the brink of tears. his body trembled as he held you and his words were laced together with only an ounce of intelligence. “i-i… i love you. so, so much…”

you could tell he was mere seconds away from losing it, but so were you. you and him were alone, free to decide where to take the night. your fate was in your hands, so you bit the bullet and began to take off his clothes…

author's note: stream the lfl album.

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lorei-writes · 3 months

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Character Thoughts: Character Design #1 - Chevalier, Gilbert, Leon

My personal outlook on the character design choices in Pri is that the primary objective of the artist behind them was to reflect personality of the suitor rather than to fit within any specific time period. As such, it becomes a question... What can be read from their looks?

Images were sourced from @acrispyapple 's blog.

Chevalier

Chevalier's colour scheme is all black and white, with subtle golden touches. It is fairly simplistic and may draw forward the image of a white tiger -- a ferocious although rare beast. It creates a frightening backdrop for any blood that may be spilled... and accurately enough, may serve as a reflection of a binary logic mindset.

Asymmetric cape allows for greater freedom of movement. The arm he draws his sword with is not going to be restrained under the weight of fabric. His boots look suitable for horse riding and the cut of his jacket, I believe, is meant to resemble military uniforms of centuries prior. Chevalier is covered from his fingertips to his very neck -- there isn't a vulnerability exposed in him. He is vigilant, he is ready to act, he is guarded. His skin will not be first to be cut, poison will not enter his system without struggle, his hand will not slip on the hilt of his sword even as it grows slick from crimson. Chevalier is a knight.

But through and through, he is also royalty. The haft at his hip could be called subtly ornate, albeit the material it's been made of makes it more so "humbly" opulent. The gold he dons speaks of riches, as does the fur at his collar. He's a commander. He is a noble. His position clearly separates him from others.

Chevalier is eye-catching. And were he involved in battle? You'd fear what you'd see. As you should.

Gilbert

Black, white and gold also follow Gilbert around. However, if in Chevalier's case it could have been argued that the split between darkness and light was even, then Gilbert is the dark itself. The rest are merely accents. They do not reveal much of his mystery, do not offer anything past sparse commentary on it... And I believe they aren't supposed to. Gilbert is the unknown. He is threatening and he is very clear about it.

The orders at his chest, the cut of the lapels, his boots -- it is hard not to see signs of Gilbert being involved with military. However, his clothes have clearly not been designed for ease of movement. They seem heavy, like he could get twisted in them at any moment and collapse, not to mention the heat. Long and heavily adorned with patterned accents, gold, they speak of might... But of that becoming of a commander, not a person who fights themselves. The cravat at his neck is yet another sign of how far removed he is from direct action. It is both a liability in combat and a sign of status.

Gloves, cane and eyepatch. Why should a person of his age need them? Surely, this question comes with simple answers... But are they quite correct? There's a dissonance there. You can see his secrets, but it does not mean they will be revealed to you. He, after all, too is guarded.

Leon

Another character dressed in black! But... Leon's is different, isn't it? It speaks of mystery, of secrets, surely, but when combined with noble gold and warm red... It is almost as if he wanted to say "I wish I could tell you, but I cannot". Even if not everything can be made clear, it is evident his actions are underlined with royal scarlet of high ideals.

Leon is a hero. You can see it in his wear -- it is much too informal to place him among the military, but it undeniably shows power and readiness to take up direct action. The guard at his shoulder may be complex, but the same cannot be said about the design of the hilt at his hip. It is simple, so much so that it begs to ask who else could wield it. If that is his weapon of choice, how far above a common knight does Leon see himself? Or... does he consider himself to be above them at all?

Based on the quality of his clothing and detail put into it alone, it is evident that Leon is not a person you may pass on the streets. However, his hands are out there, completely unprotected. And the way he wears his cape? His belts? The sash? It is utterly proper. Even if the lapels of his jacket do not follow any standards for uniforms, it is still buttoned up as it should be. Relaxed (or as relaxed as it may be for royalty), it gives him a laid-back, reliable appearance. The lion insignia clearly signifies who he is.

What are you hiding, Leon? We are at arm's length. You shine too bright... Yet you also mean us no harm.

#chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier #ikemen prince chevalier #ikepri #ikemen prince #ikemen series #leon dompteur #ikepri leon #ikemen prince leon #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert #ikemen prince gilbert

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alespov · 8 months

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Going Halloween Shopping with Leon

Tw: No actual trigger warnings, just tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N: So I'm starting the Halloween series a bit early lol, Feedback is greatly appreciated! <33 Requests are open, especially Halloween ones. I do wish to note, that I'm only accepting requests for Leon and Wesker atm.

“Hey babe look at this one,” you called out to your husband, You picked out the goofy-looking pumpkin and waited for his opinion. He stood before you eyeing the decoration that you didn’t need.

“Another babe? It looks like all of the other ones.” Initially, Leon's face displayed a blank expression, but as he caught sight of your subtle pout, he proceeded with renewed interest. “If the silly ass pumpkin makes you happy, then we can get it.” He said while taking a sip of his coffee.

You cheered, placed the pumpkin in your cart, and walked to a different aisle. You looked behind you and noticed Leon wasn’t with you anymore.

You stopped walking to look at some fall candles and hoped he would catch up with you soon. In the meantime, you would stay in the area, but wouldn’t leave til he was with you. Thankfully there was a few more aisle to look at. You knew Leon liked the woodsy candles, so you looked for one. Not before picking out a few delicious-smelling candles for yourself.

With anticipation, you gingerly placed the candles into your cart, their flickering flames dancing in your mind's eye. Enthusiastically, you ventured further down to the next aisle, eagerly searching for the elusive Halloween blanket that had captured your heart. As you rummaged through the array of blankets, your heart sank - it wasn't there. Disheartened but determined to brighten up your home with spooky decor, you turned to explore the spooky assortment of throw pillows that caught your attention. The striking patterns and festive colors seemed to beckon, offering a tempting alternative.

After picking out everything you wanted, you got your phone out of your purse and called Leon. To your dismay, he didn’t answer. You were used to that, Leon didn’t answer his phone often.

“Honey!” you heard Leon call out, he quickly made his way to you with an assortment of stuff. You giggled at your husband while he was putting stuff in the cart while giving the reason why he needed it.

“Are you ready to leave now?” He asked while pushing the cart toward the checkout, you were surprised by the sudden urgency.

“What’s the rush babe?” You asked concerned, the both of you made it to the self-checkout before he gave you an answer.

“ Oh it's nothing, honey, I just have a surprise for you at home.” You smiled with anticipation and hurried to scan all of the items.

During the drive home, the both of you talked about the evening plans and what to make for dinner. Leon finally pulled into the driveway and parked the car. After he took the keys out of the ignition, he grabbed a bag from the back seat.

“Here, go inside and put these on, I’ll get the groceries.” He sat the bag in your lap, and the both of you shared a kiss and went your separate ways. Bubbling with excitement you hastily made your way to your bedroom and got the contents out of the bag. You grabbed the soft fabric and placed it on the bed, you noticed the Halloween print. As you put them on, your excitement grew bigger. Leon had bought you Halloween pajamas

You heard Leon putting stuff away downstairs and made your way back down the stairs. Walking into the kitchen, you saw Leon putting pasta away.

“Babe! When did you pick these up?” you squealed happily. He laughed and gave you a hug while squeezing your butt. “Hmm, when I got the stuff I needed. I also got us a few more things,” he mumbled into the shell of your ear. “Go wait in the TV room.” He gave you another kiss and the both of you parted ways.

As you lounged on the plush couch, your eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the mysterious bags resting on the recliner nearby. Temptation tugged at your curiosity, urging you to sneak a peek. However, you restrained yourself, although the flutter of anticipation grew within. All of a sudden, Leon strolled into the TV room, and a delighted gasp escaped your lips. To your surprise and amusement, he was donned in matching pajamas that coordinated perfectly with your own.

“Honey, when did you plan this?” Leon explained that he came up with the idea the morning of,

“I also got us this.” He pulled out the blanket that you had wanted and a few Halloween movies with some holiday treats. “In this bag, I got fleece fabric so we both can make a blanket while eating Halloween treats and watching movies.”

You almost couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have somebody like him, You jumped into his arms and he caught you gracefully.

I also wanted to say, i do have a resident evil centered discord sever <33 { link}

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cupids-chamber · 10 months

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| Jamil Viper x Reader — “ Can I? “ . Jamil had helped you pick out a uniform, and things ended up getting a little too heated in the change rooms.

Commissioned by an anonymous user Suggestive / Gender neutral reader Commission me here_

His gentle hands glided through the skin of your back, the sounds of his breathing fills your ears as if they were a melody, the pattern of his breathing was practically memorized in the back of your skull— each intake and exhale of oxygen ringing your ears with a comforting embrace. His heated breath traced and tingled the small of your breath, and soon you felt your own breathing labor at the intensity of this moment.

The smell of his all too familiar herbal soap filled your senses as he closed in on you from behind, his hands traveling further down the sensitive skin of your back, movements slower than ever as if to savor this moment, with you. He undoes the buttons on the back of your clothes, his movements are painstakingly slow, as he carefully undoes each button so as not to mess up the threading on the sensitive and rather thin piece of cloth. The garment being the only thing separating you both at this moment.

He takes another step closer to you, as the heat of the moment causes heat to course through your body, causing it to overheat ever so slightly. The sweat causes the thin fabric to stick further onto your body, as his hands gently tug the small string of lace holding the cloth together. You could feel his breathing hitch, and grow more frantic, his hot breath sending tingling sensations of pure bliss through the supple flesh of your shoulders, while his lips are all too close to your neck.

He takes a deep breath, and releases, letting loose hot air onto your skin, and your mind goes blank for a small moment, only returning back to your body when you hear a low and shaky chuckle from the man from behind you. He whispered slowly, his words vibrating through your head, causing your thoughts to numb out "Could I take it off now?", he asked, his voice was soft, as your breath hitched once more, “please” he asked again, while tracing small circles on the skin of your lower back and you slowly began nodding your head in response.

He let out a hum of satisfaction, a smile creeping onto his face, as he tugs the lace once more, tighter this time, and holds it in place, the pressure on your already heated body caused your body to freeze for a minute, savoring the new touch, the slight sting felt nice a small whine of approval left your mouth as he began carefully undoing the tight and secure knot of lace.

His smile grew wider, as he finally pulled the lace off, and let it fall onto the ground. His hands rough from all those chores, traveled above leaving a trail of goosebumps forming on your skin, as he carefully made his way to your shoulders. He carefully began pulling down the garment from your body, slow and tantalizing movements, as if to tease you for your state—... not that he himself was doing any better in that regard… His rough hands felt warm and sweet on your skin, each movement was hypnotizing and caused your trail of thinking to pause… As he finally pulled the piece of clothing down, gently pulling it off your hands, and watching it pathetically fall onto the ground.

Your body felt cooler, an immediate embrace of cold air on your naked skin as his hands gently trailed the curve of your neck, leaning down to give the heated flesh connecting your neck and shoulders a soft kiss, his cold lips on your hot skin caused you to shiver in response.

You felt him lean closer to your ear, as he left a small teasing kiss on your earlobe, his teeth grazing it slightly afterwards.. you could practically feel the smile on his face as his lips came in contact with your skin, you closed your eyes to savor the moment of his teeth grazing your skin, the sting and pain contrasting the pleasantness of it all. He whispered again, after you and his breathing became more coherent, his voice more hoarse than before as if he'd grown tired, possibly worn out by the intensity of this moment, "Would you like help putting on the uniform as well, my Sapphire?", he asked, his breath growing more feverish and you didn’t need to turn around to guess how blissed out he looked right now.

It takes a few moments for you to completely process his words, let alone question. Growing impatient, he carelessly bit into your neck, bringing you back to your body and mind, the pain causing you to feel almost delirious. He repeated the question once more, his breathing was frantic and the words came out as if he was in a rush, and to his utter joy you finally whispered a small "please" in response.

— taglist ♡ ; @queerlordsimon , @dxmoness , @ravenlking , @kyraxiyn , @merotwst , @snappit-the-snek , @love-sicklesbian , @jade-s-nymph , @food-lover9000 , @oepionie , @cookiesandcreamsupremacy , @prettyinblack231 , @kaechannn , @ay-chuu , @goseew

♡ Join my taglist here...

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hometoursandotherstuff · 4 months

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Here's an unusual home built in 1968 in Tucson, Arizona. It is insulated by thousands of glass bottles, that give it a colorful glow inside. It has 3bds, 3ba, and is priced at $432,500.

A large entrance foyer leads into the living room. The walls have clear glass bottles with amber glass arches.

The walls that aren't made of bottles are made of stones. The ceiling is whitewashed wood with log beams. The floors vary throughout the home. Note the freestyle fireplace and the platform that the sofa cushion is on.

This is a very large space.

Quite a deep fireplace.

The dining room has interesting cabinetry- it's made of saguaro cactus.

It appears that this handmade table will convey.

The eat-in kitchen is spacious and has regular cabinetry, but the walls are both stone and glass bottles. Pretty clear ones form arched windows over the sink.

The home has unusual rooms, nooks, and passages like this area.

One of the nooks is a home office. The rectangle in the wall above the desk must be a decorative feature. The ceiling is fabric.

The primary bedroom is very large and features a fireplace with patterned brick walls accented with bottles.

It has a long built-in sofa and the walls are made of green and amber bottles.

The bed is on a platform and that's the large bath on the right.

This is some stone bath. Don't slip in here, the walls will knock you out.

Look at all the walls in the garden.

There's also a guest cottage on the property.

This is interesting.

There are 2 bedrooms with platforms for the beds.

Not sure what this is.

A separate bath house serves as the 3rd bathroom.

Not sure, but I think he guards the bath house.

There's also an outdoor kitchen and several covered outdoor spaces. Love this handmade pool table.

It doesn't have a garage, but it has a double car port.

If you like the desert, the cacti garden is quite lovely and the property measures 2.53 acres.

#unique homes #unusual homes #bottle house #desert homes #houses #house tours #home tour

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pandoraslxna · 8 months

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⋆｡° ✮ minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinktober masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: handjob (duh), praise, sub!neteyam

⋆｡° ✮ Translation: yawne = beloved, paskalin = honey

Neteyam enjoys simple things, doing things that help him calm his mind after yet another stressful day, or in between tasks and daily duties as the future olo’eyktan. Simple things he’s learned to accomplish to the point of perfection at such a young age, that he didn’t even had to think anymore as he did them now. Things, such as weaving, skinning his latest hunt, braiding his hair, sharpening knifes and craving arrows.

Neteyam senses your warmth at his back before he even hears or feels your breath on his neck, as he kneels on the floor in your shared marui.

"Yes, yawne?" He says, not looking up from the way he slowly moves a woven thread between his fingers.

"Don't mind me", you say softly, but Neteyam can hear the grin in your voice. "Keep doing what you're doing." Your arms encircle his middle and you nuzzle your face against the muscles of his back, barely able to reach your arms all the way around his waist.

Neteyam absently reaches for another pearl, while you put your lips between the space of his shoulder blades, up, up, up, all the way until your lips meet his neck, tongue sliding over his skin in a teasing lick.

"What you're doing is distracting", Neteyam huffs out a breath, trying to hide the smile that forms on his lips.

"Huh. Is it?" Your other hand has gone to work now, dipped down lower to where his loincloth sits, palming, until your fingers brush over a bulge that now presses against the woven cloth. Your palm pushes against it and he sucks in a breath.

"Yes, it is." Neteyam keeps his voice level, but it’s getting harder the more you palm his cock over the thin fabric. Alternating your lips to small nips with your pointy teeth along his neck, you then finally manage to tug him free. "I just want to help you relax", you giggle softly.

It's incredibly difficult to concentrate on weaving such complex patterns under these conditions, but Neteyam tries his best, reaching for another pearl, tying another knot with skilled fingers. Your own skilled fingers however, they were entirely busy stroking his cock now.

He feels a bit ridiculous, he had to admit to himself. With his loincloth hanging so low that you could easily play with him and your chin resting on his shoulder to get a good view, while he pretended to be entirely focused on that damn piece of clothing he made purely to calm his mind– when there was something way better to do, something that could help him relax like no other task could.

Your hand pushes harder, movements quickening and Neteyam drops the threads in his hands, choking back a moan.

"C'mon, paskalin", you whisper, breath tickling his ear. "You can do better than that. I want to hear you." Both of your hands move to his cock, stroking simultaneously, twisting in opposite directions, thumb teasing his slit where pre-cum oozes in thick droplets.

"O-Oh great mother", he shakily exhales, and you kiss his jaw as you stare down at him, watching the way his abs flex and hips instinctively buck forward and into your fist, seeking more.

"Hmm, you like that don’t you? My mighty warrior likes getting his cock stroked like that?", you purr, before your tongue glides over the shell of his ear.

With a sense of helplessness, Neteyam thrusts into your touch again, a desperate way to let you know that he needs more– faster, harder. His mouth hangs open and his eyes are only half lidded, yet he’s transfixed at the sight of your delicate hands that aren’t even able to close entirely around his shaft, as you pick up a quicker pace.

"Fuck", he curses, the alien words clumsily tumbling from his lips in a whimper, his mind too busy focusing on the pleasure to separate the sky peoples language from this of his own people. Still, you understand.

"We‘ll get to that soon", you giggle softly.

You don’t speak it fluently, but there are certain words and phrases that you picked up over time, often slipping out of him when he felt especially good, and now you understand their meaning to a certain degree.

"That's it, just relax for me, yawne. You can come if you want to", you coo into his ear, once Neteyam lets out a truly shameful low, strangled groan. "Go on, make a mess. Let it all out."

He can't help it, the noises that get out of him. And he can't help the way he comes so hard that it's almost as blazing white as his grace, everything gone but your hands on him and your warmth on his back and the sound of your encouragement, loving praises and content hums blurring with the rushing noise in his own head before he feels his brain turn to mush and his whole body relax.

This is undoubtedly better than weaving, skinning his latest hunt, braiding his hair, sharpening knifes and craving arrows, he thinks. So much better.

928 notes · View notes

pinkkittysaw · 7 months

Text

HUNGRY LIKE THE WOLF

title is based off the song hungry like the wolf by duran duran

halloween night of horrors masterlist can be found here!

pairing: werewolf clive rosfield x f!reader

summary: your lover always disappears on the night of a full moon every month and you’re determined to figure out why

word count: 8,331 (don’t perceive me 🫣)

content: NSFW (minors + ageless blogs DNI you will be blocked) minor plot spoilers, monsterfucking, teratophilia, knotting, blood, choking, established relationship, slight dumbification, minor breast/nipple play, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink, manhandling, belly bulge/pushing, spit, slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms, scent kink, scratching, biting, one spank, hints of degradation, praise, pet names (sweetheart, darling, love) reader is wearing a dress

* i want to give a BIG thank you to @strawberrystepmom for answering all my anatomical questions and helping me through my writing process! she also has a werewolf fic of her own if you want to check it out ^_^

a/n: AND I LASTED TEN ROUNDS LIKE A FREAKKKKK LIKE A GGGGGGGGG. this was inspired by the beach scene with clive and jill, iykyk. I WILL NEVER BE NORMAL AGAIN THANKS TO THEM!!truly did not expect this to get as long as it did but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

recommended listening for this fic is MONSTER by lady gaga

divider by @/benkeibear

Waves crash at your toes from where you stand on the shoreline, and the fire you made from scattered kindling on the rocky beach crackles in the background, its golden flame shining bright against the navy blue sky.

You sigh, staring into the dark ether, hoping and praying for an answer to your troubles. The cold water laps at your feet, manifesting a shiver in your spine that flows throughout the rest of your body. Grumbling, you glare back at Metia and the full moon with disdain, acting as if the two of them were in cahoots with each other, taunting you. You huff, shoving your arms to your sides with clenched fists as you continue to bitch, arguing with the moon and stars above.

"You're not even going to help me? Even though you're the cause of all this?"

Your index finger is shoved into the sky, pointing directly at the hunk of rock that floats within it, and it's not long after that gust of wind blows through you, billowing through the skirt of your pale dress, causing it to fly in right your face, a protest of sorts in response to the little tantrum you were throwing.

You fold the fabric back down onto your legs, holding its hem while letting out a snide, "Well, I hope the two of you are enjoying yourselves," before you turn your back in defiance and slosh through the ankle-deep water toward the fire, choosing to settle down on your bed roll for the night.

You shouldn't be surprised. All your prayers turned out to be for naught; it'd be foolish to think that this time would be any different.

You pout and pull your knees to your chest, settling your cheeks on the joints of your legs as you stare into the fiery embers, the sand scratching the skin between your toes as they curl into the seashore. You had long since forgone your sandals, as keeping the granules out of the material proved to be a losing battle.

"This was such a foolish idea," you mutter to yourself, choosing to reflect on the actions that brought you here.

You and Clive had been courting for several months now, and in that time you began to notice a particular pattern he developed. During the three days surrounding every full moon, he always disappeared without a trace, unable to be found anywhere in the hideaway.

It wasn't uncommon for Clive to be away from the hideout; if anything, he was probably away from it more than he wasn't, always coming to someone's aid. As long as they roamed the lands of Valisthea, he'd be there.

But after three separate occurrences of him disappearing around the same set of circumstances, it began to look less and less like a coincidence and more like a habit. The first two times he "vanished," you had attributed the cause to "business as usual," assuming he was off assisting the curse breakers or aiding in the transportation of recently freed bearers, but the longer the two of you stayed together, the more prominent his disappearances became.

You had confronted him about it once, apprehensively inquiring if he had taken on another lover during his time away. You heard the tale of his time in North Reach before he, Cid, and Jill eventually set their sights on destroying Drake's head. Maybe he'd found a courtesan at The Veil on his returning trip to Sanbreque after word of Isabelle needing his assistance came in.

He immediately shot the notion down, sympathizing with your cause of concern. He reassured you that you were the only one for him, and you believed him, of course. He's been nothing but loyal and devoted to you throughout your whole relationship so far. Even Jill stepped in and vouched for him at one point, stating that "cheating was far beneath him" and that he "treasured you more than anything else in the realm."

Yet he still didn't do much in providing an actual explanation for where he was going, stumbling through an excuse about the Mothercrystals and needing to stay away for your protection, but the risks of danger hadn't stopped him from brainstorming strategies with you before, so why now all of a sudden was he coddling you like a child? If not a secret lover, then what else could be hiding from you? Not even the collection of books residing in the Shelves provided an answer as to why your lover would disappear for three days time every full moon.

The longer this went on, the more you assumed everyone was just taking the piss out of you. Sure, most people in the hideaway were often busy with their own assignments, but you couldn't have been the only person who noticed a similar pattern of behavior, right?

You took to asking people around the hideout if they noticed a change in Clive's demeanor, with most of them stating that he'd been acting as he usually would, nothing out of the ordinary, while some others, mainly Tarja, thought it'd be funny to get a bit cheeky with you, commenting, "Wouldn't you be the one to notice if he was behaving strangely?" She means no real offense, so you try your best not to get frustrated with the more empty answers you're handed. It wasn't their fault that your lover was so cagey about his whereabouts. It's not like they were his keeper, as he was the one everyone answered to. You even took to inquiring Otto about it, though it didn't prove to be any more fruitful as he spat out the same Mothercrystals excuse as Clive did.

Your last and final hope was Jill. She had known Clive the longest—since they were children; if anyone were to have insight on what was going on with him, it'd be her, but you're met with similar responses as Clive and Otto. An apprehensive look crossed her features when you asked her if she knew why Clive was disappearing each month or where he went. She simply shrugged her shoulders, shook her head, and stated that she hadn't noticed anything strange going on with him, which only proved to make you more suspicious.

Having had enough of the unanswered questions, you decided that the (not-so) smartest thing to do would be to take a little trip during the week of the full moon and not tell anyone. Was it a bit selfish? Desperate? Yes, but you rationalized that if you disappeared during that time, Clive would have no choice but to come out of hiding and look for you, thus leaving you free to discuss his whereabouts. It definitely wasn't the most well-thought-out plan you've ever come up with, but the lack of transparency was beginning to drive you mad.

The next few weeks were spent making preparations for the trip ahead in secret, taking on extra assignments to save up gil so you could spend a few nights at an inn. The night before your departure, you decided to take on all outstanding alliant reports on the bulletin while everyone was asleep so that you could circumvent a scolding from Otto about skipping out on your duties when you returned.

Early to rise the next morning, you gather a small pack of your belongings and shuffle off toward the pier before Clive awoke, careful to slip from his gentle embrace so as to not rouse him from his slumber. You glance down at his sleeping face, taking in how peaceful he looked while resting.

You gather your pack and make your way toward the boats. The sunrise on the open water is a stark contrast to the scowl that Obolus greets you with so early in the day.

"Good morning!" You beam, your smile shining brightly in his direction, as you carefully step onto the ferry.

"Someone's rather chipper this morning," he snickers, preparing to set sail in the blighted waters.

"You could say that," you respond, taking your seat on the wooden boards as the vessel starts to bob in the water and glancing back as the hideaway comes to life, everyone beginning to start their day.

When choosing a destination for this little excursion, you soon realized that there was only one correct choice, so you set your sights on Rosaria, having expressed wanting to return there to Clive before, so if he truly knew you as well as he claimed, he'd have no trouble finding you.

The majority of your time was spent at Martha's Rest, helping her out with the ever-growing cray claw population that seemed to be terrorizing most merchants traveling in the area. It was peaceful, with most nights spent exchanging tales with the locals over pints of ale.

On the day before the full moon, Martha half-joked about keeping you stationed with her, finding your company to be most pleasant, and though you couldn't make any promises, you assured her that you would stop by whenever time allowed.

It was only on the night of the full moon itself that you decided to take to the sea. The salty air and crash of the waves gave you a sense of tranquility unlike any other. It was almost as if you could sit back and forget all the horrors of the world around you.

As you draw swirl patterns into the sand with your finger, you begin to wonder if Clive will ever find you. Maybe he never even realized you were gone, and you'd be forced to return home with your tail between your legs, not having gotten any closer to the answers you so desired.

Unbeknownst to you, though, Clive was actively on the hunt, having noticed your disappearance shortly after your departure that morning. The space beside him in bed was cold and empty when he awoke. Though confused, he didn't think much of it; sometimes people are being sent away as reinforcements without much notice.

His day went pretty much the same as normal, though an underlying discomfort lay deep within him, wishing to share details of upcoming plans with you but being unable to.

It's not until you don't return that evening that he begins to get antsy. Deciding that he doesn't want to come across as overly possessive, he manages to hold his tongue, only voicing his concerns about your absence that night at the ale hall during supper, his dining mates recounting that they haven't seen you but to "not fret as you were probably just sent away on an overnight assignment."

He nods, taking some solace in their words as he sips from his mug, washing down the food. They were probably right; you were just off helping someone somewhere, but knowing that doesn't make his restless nights go by any easier, leaving him to toss and turn in his sleep without you.

It's not til three days go by without so much as a whisper of your whereabouts that he decides to go looking for you, finding one of your undershirts and stuffing the material into the pouch on the back of his belt. He goes out in search of Otto, hoping to find some information in regard to your whereabouts, but it's when he comes up empty in regard to your station that he really starts to panic. He informs the elder man that he'll be out for an unspecified amount of time and to make sure all missives are delivered to his desk upon his return, then storms off to the pier with a look something fierce in his eyes as he demands Obolus take him to where you disembarked. Obolus, not wanting to argue with a clearly pissed-off Clive, rows him to the destination.

You're distracted from your wallowing upon hearing a shrill howl in the distance. Quick to refocus, you swivel your head back and forth in all directions to try and determine the location of the sound. That's when you see it—a dark figure perched upon one of the nearby cliffs. The midnight sky shrouds the size and shape of the creature, though its piercing azure eyes remain distinct amongst the sea of black, piercing right through you from the tall height.

Just as quickly as you make eye contact with the creature, it lurches from its spot on the cliff, prowling toward you like a predator honing in on its next meal, sniffing as if it smells your fear and your very blood running cold. Only when it's within range of the fire's flame are you able to tell what lingers in the dark. A wolf. Its fur is as dark as a raven's feather, black like soot, and much different from the standard mix of greys and whites of the usual worgens. Rosaria was no stranger to wolves, but they were never of this magnitude; its body was almost double the size of the usual stray. You're confused as to what it was doing so far out from the greenery; was this a newly created breed? Made solely for the purpose of hunting lost damsels wandering the coast at night?

As it draws near, you're unable to look away, its eyes drawing you into a trance, captivating yet familiar, almost as if you've seen them before.

It snarls at you, its ears and lips drawing back to expose the glint of sharpened canines that await you, its tail sharp and stiff, a warning sign: DANGER! DANGER!

You scoot backward in the sand toward your sword, buried in the sand. The wolf is still approaching just as slowly, its bark and growls echoing off the ocean and ringing back into your ears. Was this how you were going to meet your end? Slaughtered and torn to shreds by a rouge wolf, becoming its dinner, never to be seen again while your corpse decays on an abandoned beach?

You feel the cold steel amongst the granules and unsheath your blade, drawing it slowly as you rise to your feet. You do your best to steady your nerves, your heart hammering in your chest so wildly that you're assured that the beast can hear its drum as well. Though skilled with a sword, the circumstances couldn't be more against your favor; the instability of the sand and poor lighting make it more likely that you'll topple over and impale yourself before ever slaying the creature.

It growls once more, rearing its hind legs, ready to pounce. You brace yourself for impact, taking your best stance as the wolf leaps into the air. You're knocked flat on your back on the bumpy terrain, your sword falling from your hand as the air is strangled from your lungs, your body aching from the collision. It stands over you now, nose to nose with the beast that'd be your undoing. Its drool leaks onto your face; puffs of air are exhaled and manifested into the ether as it breathes in and out. You clench your eyes shut as it leans closer, praying that your death will be swift when you feel...a lick?

The long, fleshy tongue makes a slobbery mess of your cheeks and face as the wolf wags its bushy tail back and forth. This was bizarre, but you'd much rather be covered in sloppy hound kisses than be torn to shreds, so you accept your strange fate while continuing to giggle.

"I never expected to make a friend all the way out here," you coo, giving your best baby voice as you scratch the hound behind the ears.

A few moments later, you're blinded by a bright, pale light, transforming the once yipping black wolf into...Clive? Or at least you think it's Clive. It looks like him, the figure possessing the same crystalline eyes and dark shaggy hair, yet he still looks vastly different, as if he were half-beast, retaining the increased height, bulk, and hair as he did in wolf form. The rounded, fluffy ears and sharpened fangs are still present as well. You don't even realize he's naked at first due to the amount of thick, coarse hair covering his body, only being able to tell when you catch a glimpse of the few more intimate scars that lay between the follicles, reflecting in the flame's light.

He falls to his hands and knees, scampering toward you, pulling you close by the arm for a chaste kiss.

"Ouch," you squeak, scuttling backward as something sharp pricks your skin. He's quick to pull away, and that's when you notice the claws extending from the tips of his fingers, curled and sharpened to a fine point.

"My apologies; I'm, uh, not used to touching people when I look like this." He reaches out to cup your face, frowning a little as you twitch backward at the sight of his large hand. His fingers are gentle as they caress the sensitive skin of your cheek and neck, not wanting to startle you further.

"What are you doing all the way out here? Where have you been? What if something happened to you? What if-?" He begins to question, losing himself in the possibility of what ifs

"Clive," you cut him off, raising your eyebrows to stare at him like he's just grown two heads. He tilts his head to the side, perplexed, while you ask, "Are you not going to explain what's going on with you?"

"You're... a beast."

He sighs, sitting back on his hind with a dejected posture. "This," he gestures up and down his body, "is what I was trying to protect you from."

His eye catches a glimmer upon your flesh, trailing from your bicep to your forearm.

"You're bleeding," he mutters, turning your arm in his grasp to get a better view.

"It's alright," you stammer, reaching up to apply pressure to the cut when he looms over you, extending his head and tongue toward the abrasion, lapping at it quickly. You're taken aback at first, quirking an eyebrow in his direction, but soon realize that this is his means of comforting you, in his own dog sort of way. His tongue also maintained its wolf-like qualities—long, pink, and rough—yet it didn't feel too unpleasant on the skin. The cool breeze against the wet saliva on your skin creates goosebumps along your body.

He continues to tend to your cut til he's assured the bleeding has stopped and the metallic tang no longer gracing his tastebuds. He pulls back, sitting on his rear once again. "You still haven't answered my question."

"You haven't answered mine. I've seen a lot of freaky things in my lifetime, Clive, but this...this requires an explanation."

A beat of silence passes as the two of you sit in front of the fire, illuminated in its orange haze. A small breeze of wind blows through the both of you, the moon and stars shine down from above.

He exhales defeatedly. "I'm... a werewolf."

You scoff, finding the words a bit silly coming out of his mouth. "I'm sorry, what?"

"It's true. I was turned that night at Phoenix Gate all those years ago. It was the only way I could've survived." He pauses, lowering his head and drawing his ears back once again. "I never found the person who turned me—I don't believe I ever will. Though sometimes I wonder if saving me was worth it, seeing as it turns me into a monster."

"Clive..."

He shakes his head, ruffling his fur, a toothy grin adorning his features. "Never mind that."

"Every full moon, I transform into this beast against my will. That's why I'm away so often. That and well..." His words trail off as his eyes make contact with yours across the fire, scanning your face and body.

"Well, what?"

"Nothing," he smiles, eyes softening as he continues to look at you. "Now it's your turn; what in Founder's name are you doing all the way out here?"

You chuckle timidly, heat flooding your face—the likes of which you hope he can't see as you scoot away from him slightly, wishing you could bury your head in the sand for reacting so poorly.

"It's silly... and dumb," you mumble, trying to wave him off, turning your back toward him in an attempt to hide any further embarrassment. He grabs your hands in his, the size of them eclipsing your own, while he pulls you closer to him.

"It's not dumb, not to me," he says, running a fur-covered finger up and down your cheek. "Besides, it can't possibly be any dumber than me turning into a wolf," he chuckles.

You sigh, closing your eyes in preparation. "I was getting frustrated with the lack of communication, so I decided to just..."

"Run away?"

"Aye." You hang your head low in shame, kicking up a cloud of dust from the sand with your toes, feeling stupid and childish for having reacted this way.

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. It wasn't fair to you."

"It's alright."

He cups your jaw, nudging your chin up between his grip so that you're both on eye level, his eyes much sharper than before. "It's not alright, love, we're a partnership. We're supposed to trust each other, and we can't do that if I'm not being honest with you. I'll do better from here on, alright? I promise."

You give him a sickly-sweet smile, nodding in agreement as he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

"So how did you find me? I mean, I was hoping you would, but still, I'm curious."

"You really want to know? It's quite embarrassing."

"Now I most definitely want to know," you giggle, leaning toward him.

"Well, I uhm..." He becomes more bashful as he continues on. "I tracked your scent."

"I pulled one of your tunics from the laundry bin and used that to help me track you down."

"My scent?"

"Mhm," he grumbles, slowly leaning into you more and more, causing you to fall back on your hands as he draws near. "Your musk is very distinct. There's nothing else in Valisthea quite like it." He gets closer and closer, nudging his head under the skirt of your dress, getting incredibly close toward the apex of your thighs before taking a big whiff. "And oh, so addicting." Your eyelashes flutter in surprise, building heat throughout your body. This had to be some wolf thing, right? He never acted like this before.

You place your foot on his shoulder, pushing him back on his haunches, trying to shoo him away from under your dress with a subdued "Down boy."

He snarls faintly before wrapping his hand around your ankle and pulling you toward him, effectively dragging your body through the sand, scratching up your back, and getting the granules caught in your dress and hair. It'd take weeks for you to wash it all out.

He tugs on your leg til you're dangling in the air, holding you up as if you weigh nothing, yanking you higher and higher til your sweet cunt is pressed against his nose once more. He takes another huge whiff of your pussy and relishes in the scent that fills his nostrils. Your body contorts slightly, your abdomen tightening while you hold down the part of your dress that's fallen in your face, only to see him nosing at your underwear, licking his lips, and staring at you like you were a big piece of meat.

"I can smell you, you know," he whispers, licking a broad stripe against your folds through the gusset of your underwear. You can't help but thrash in the air, your back arching as the width of his tongue reaches every crevice of your cunt in one fell swoop. Oh, this was certainly different, but you liked it.

"I can smell your arousal, Founder, your scent is so addicting." He nuzzles into your pussy again, rubbing his nose back and forth over your clit through your underwear, grinning at your desperate mewls and whines.

"You smell so fucking good," he murmurs and delivers another broad lick to your panties, effectively soaking them with his drool. "And taste even better," he winks. "But your scent isn't the only thing I can sense. Your heart rate has increased quite significantly, as well as your breathing." Partly from fear but mostly from arousal.

another broad lick and a sniff

"You're probably debating whether or not it's okay to be attracted to me while I'm like this."

another lick

"Mmm, fuck," he growls as more of your essence pools in your knickers. "But don't worry, I can make the decision for the both of us." He gives an airy laugh.

another sniff

His claws graze the seam of your panties, slightly unraveling the stitching. "Please let me taste you," he pants. "Please don't deny me your sweet nectar."

"I've gone far too long without it," he mumbles as he begins to make out with your pussy through your underwear, while his claws start trailing over the rest of your body as you continue to hang in the air. Clive was never one to shy away from pleasuring you with his honeyed tongue, but this was a whole new level of desperation.

"Please," he pleads.

"Alright alright, just put me down. I'm starting to lose feeling in my legs." He grins and happily obliges, his tail wagging rapidly as he drops you slowly onto the sand by your ankle. You lean back on your elbows so as not to get any more sand in your hair, and spread your legs wide for him. He gets on his hands and knees, crawling over to you seductively before lifting the hem of your dress over your pelvis, exposing your soaking wet knickers to him once again.

He smiles down at you, admiring the view of your disheveled state while dragging a claw on your inner thigh, making you shiver before he tucks the nail into the crotch of your panties, tearing them straight off your cunt with little resistance. The fabric is left in tatters beside you when you gasp, your slick folds now fully exposed to the chilly evening air.

He groans as he lifts your hips into the air, throwing your thighs over his broad shoulders as he makes eye contact with your bare cunt, all wet, spread, and exposed just for him. Your bum is in the air slightly as he settles himself on his elbows, his large hands wrapping around the plush of your thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh slightly. He gets on eye level with your pussy, the hairs on your mound drenched from his salvia. You look so appetizing to him that he can't fight off the desire to sink into your wetness.

"Do you want to know the real reason I stayed away all this time?" He asks, bringing his mouth closer to your cunt, nibbling on your inner thigh with his teeth, causing a slight blood trail to trickle down from the skin.

You whimper but nod your head in response.

"Your scent tempts me like no other." His rough tongue laps up the blood spilled from the nick he created, leaving you writhing for more pleasure.

"It'd take everything in me not to mount you right where you lay and take you as my mate." You groan at that, causing a chuckle to escape him while he continues to nip and lick at the skin surrounding your pussy, neglecting where you need him most.

"Clive, please," you whine, having had enough of his teasing and desperately wanting him to push you over the edge with that sweet tongue of his, so after deciding that you've had enough, he gives you what you so desperately crave: a long swipe of his tongue from your entrance, all the way to your needy, swollen clit.

You arch your back while he groans at the taste. Something about being in this form enhances his senses and the pleasure he receives from pleasing you.

He gathers a pool of salvia behind his teeth and spits it on your cunt before he pulls you even further into his mouth, swirling the wetness all along your poor neglected pussy. The change in texture brings you heightened pleasure as his tongue drags along your clit over and over, making you mewl and whine in his hold.

Your hips begin to buck against his face, and he's gentle when he pulls the sensitive nub between his sharpened teeth. Your fingers find themselves in his shaggy hair, curling into the roots, where you give a slight tug, pulling him even closer into your cunt. He groans into your pussy as more of your arousal leaks from your quivering hole.

He detaches himself from your clit, moving down to your entrance, where he laps at the escaping juices. It's like a drug to him, one that he simply can't get enough of, so it comes as no surprise when he wiggles his tongue into your tight hole to collect even more of your flavor on his palette. He pushes the warm muscle further and further in, slurping up every last drop you provide, not letting a single one go to waste. It's such a foreign sensation, but you can't deny the pleasure you derive from it when he begins thrusting it in and out of you, effectively fucking you with his tongue.

"Fuck, Clive," you moan as his efforts hasten, greedy for more of your flavor.

Your hips continue to rut against his face, clit knocking against his nose with every buck upward. You're whining, whimpering, and writhing all over the place while his strong, calloused hands keep your hips pressed against his face. He takes over for you and grinds your pussy all over his face while continuing to tongue-fuck you as you're reduced to nothing but whimpers due to the sensations, your cunt beginning to pulsate around his warm muscle as the whiskers on his face tickle your clit in ways you've never felt before.

His rhythm against you is brutal; your legs are beginning to shake and your toes starting to curl. A slew of pleas fall from your lips, begging him to bring you to your sweet release, and he's always been one to please. He growls out "cum for me" before suckling your clit back between his lips, hard.

You wail loudly as you see white behind your eyes, your thighs squeezing around his head tight while continuing to tug on his hair, slowly bucking your hips as you continue to ride out the rest of your high.

Clive keeps up his efforts on your clit, making your hips jolt as he overstimulates your poor pussy. With a simple tap on the side of his face and a muffled "enough," he lowers you back down again, being sure to cover your exposed sex with the skirt of your dress once more.

"That was..." you begin to rave, lifting your head up to meet his eyes only for your attention to be drawn elsewhere, particularly toward the protrusion from his lower half that's now sticking straight in the air.

Heavens above, was that his cock?

Your eyes are diverted once again as he begins licking his chops, swirling his tongue all around where your wetness graced his face. Poor thing, he always did get unbearably horny when eating you out.

You reach out toward him, wanting to provide some relief, when he backs away, shuffling in the sand.

"You don't...you don't need to do that..."

"In fact, it's probably best that you didn't."

"Are you sure? It looks like it hurts..."

His cock looked a lot different than usual. It was angrier, meatier, thicker, longer, his whole shaft red in color instead of the pretty pale yellow tone you're used to, and it was hard, so incredibly hard, with precum leaking down onto the sand below. You've never had anything like it before, but you knew you wanted it, and you wanted it BAD.

"It's alright, I can take care of myself when I turn back, besides, if we do this, I won't be able to stop myself, and I- I don't want to hurt you." He attempts to cover himself up from your wandering eye, but that serves to only work against him as he whimpers every time he bumps into his erection, his teeth digging into his lower lip.

You crawl toward him slowly, your hands and knees sinking into the sand as you move forward. "I trust you, I know you won't hurt me." You settle between his legs, dense, dark, coarse hair covering the base of his cock. "Let me make you feel good too," you mumble, grabbing his shaft with your hand. It's hot to the touch, with way more veins, the base more rounded and bulbous than usual. You pump him up and down slowly as he mewls and growls against your touch.

"This is your last chance," he huffs. "I won't be able to hold myself back."

"I want you just like this, Clive," you lean in, pressing a wet kiss to his lips while you continually stroke him. "Don't hold yourself back," you whisper, smirking against him as the two of you kiss some more, both beginning to pant into the other's mouth as the excitement builds.

He emits a low growl and picks you up by your hips, planting you down on all fours in front of him. The hem of your dress is torn by his claws as he lifts it over your bum, your cheeks on full display. His hand comes down with a swift SWAT to your ass, leaving tiny abrasions on your skin from his nails. Your body propels forward from the impact as you squeal, your pussy starting to drool with arousal once again.

He leans himself over you; his broad body is heavy on your back as it casts a large shadow in the moonlight. You can feel all the hair that covers his legs as he presses into you, the follicles tickling the back of your thighs as he lines himself up with your entrance.

"I'd much rather take you on your back, spread you nice and wide, have you laid out all pretty underneath me like you always seem to enjoy," he murmurs in your ear, trailing his hand from your thigh to knead at your breast through your clothes.

"But unfortunately, your choice of locale for throwing this little tantrum prohibits that sort of thing."

"We wouldn't want sand to get where it doesn't belong, hm?" He removes his hand from your breast and interlocks his fingers over top of yours, where they've sunk into the sand. Though his hand is so large, he might as well be clenching his fist around your own.

He sniffs your nape, then presses a kiss to the back of your neck. "I'll be as gentle as I can til you're ready for more, alright?"

"I'll make this as pleasurable for you as possible," he coos. When he notices your body shivering, though he's unsure if it's due to the cold or nerves, he runs his free hand up and down your side in a soothing manner, in an attempt to help calm you a bit. He plants a sweet kiss and a lick on your cheek, and it manages to pull a short giggle from you, which he smiles at.

"I'm ready."

With your fingers still interlocked together, he carefully begins to insert himself, and it takes all of his will to not buck his hips and go balls deep inside you. The hug of your warm, wet walls on his weepy, swollen cock is almost too much for him to bear.

You bite your lower lip and grunt as he pushes in, feeling like you're being torn open from the inside out. He can sense your discomfort; your heart rate skyrocketing due to the pain. He's quick to move his other hand from your side to your clit, rubbing smooth, soft circles on the bundle of nerves with the pad of his fingers.

His ears pull back at your discomfort, and he nuzzles his nose into your neck further, trying to soothe you through more licks and kisses to your neck.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whimpers, and your heart all but breaks at the sound.

The ministrations on your clit start to overtake the burn of your nethers and you encourage Clive to keep pushing in further. It's a prolonged effort, with him moving in short increments every so often til he was as deep as you could allow, stopping just short of the bulb inflating the base. He was already quite well-endowed, having little to no trouble bringing you to sweet bliss on his cock, but this was a whole new world. His cock felt like it now resided in your guts and that your guts were now in your longs. His girth, the likes of which you've never felt before. Your cunt strangles him with everything it has; every bump against your ridges fills him with pleasure.

Once he's as deep as he can go with minimal resistance, he brings you over the edge by playing with your clit. Sadly, there's not enough prep in the world that would make taking him an easier feat, but he's hoping that the now relaxed muscles in your cunt will make the whole experience more pleasurable.

He continues to coo and coddle you as you come down from your second orgasm of the night. The squirm of your smaller form against his fills him with amusement. There's something so primal about him mounting you like this, caressing your soft skin while making sure to comfort you through lots of kisses and nuzzles as he whispers words of affection in your ear. You're pretty sure your cheek is going to be rubbed raw by the end of this.

"You're such a good girl," he murmurs in your ear. "You're doing so good for me."

He stalls his hips while you gather yourself, collecting your thoughts as you try to bring yourself back into the moment. It's only when you give the go-ahead that he starts to move, taking care to make sure that this part is done with caution as well until you're accustomed to any sort of rhythm with his size.

Your fists dig deep into the shore as the veins of his angry cock drag along every single bump and groove inside you.

"Fuuuuuuuuck," you growl between your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut tight at his slow and methodical thrusts. You knew he was just making sure you didn't get hurt, but it felt like him going this slow and deliberate might actually kill you.

"Clive, you can move a little faster," you pant.

"Are you sure? I don't want to-"

"Yes, I'm sure just-" you clench down on him harder, hoping that will drive the point further. "Just please..."

"Alright then," he mumbles, settling his face on your shoulder, his big, bulky body still encompassing you. He moves his hand down to your hip, where his thumb draws soothing patterns into your skin while his hips start to rock back and forth. It's a slow rhythm at first, which admittedly you're thankful for, knowing that you'd probably regret telling him to go all out once you're forced to waddle to the infirmary and explain to Tarja why your nethers looked the way they did.

It takes everything in you not to groan out in pleasure, and after noticing this, of course, Clive goads, gaining a more steady rhythm, his pace quickening with every passing second.

"There's no one else here but you, me, and the stars, love."

"You can be as loud as you want." After heeding his proposal, you let out a loud moan into the open air, which echoes softly over the ocean.

"That's it," he praises, licking a stripe on your neck. It's not long before you feel the coil winding in your belly once more, signaling your impending orgasm. You attempt to reach down toward your clit when Clive smacks your hand away, replacing your fingers with his own as he rubs fast circles on the pearl.

He's grunting and huffing in tandem with your moans, the two of you fucking like wild animals as his hips snap in quick succession against yours. His cock glides against the soft, spongey spot deep inside you over and over with no end in sight. Your toes curl as your cunt squeezes down on him even harder than before, screwing your eyes tight as you brace yourself for the impact of your oncoming orgasm. The weight of his cock makes you see stars as you reach ecstasy once more.

"Fuck," he groans against you, digging his face deeper into your neck, inhaling the scent dripping off you from your sweat, your body lunging back and forth as he continues to fuck you. You presumed this would be the finale, but soon realize you're dead wrong as he grabs you by both hips again and sits back on his heels, effectively spearing you on his cock as your legs are spread wide over his thick, hairy thighs.

His claws come out to shred at the material of your bodice, ruining the fabric of your dress and making it so your tits bounce wildly with every powerful thrust he delivers underneath you.

Your body is akin to puddy at this point, your head resting against his shoulder as he bounces you up and down on his cock. His fingers come down to pinch at your nipples as you writhe against his body, the cool evening air making them hard as rocks while he plays with the rest of your body to his own enjoyment.

It's not long after that you find yourself on the brink again as you succumb to becoming his personal fleshlight, his thrusts unrelenting while he whispers more sweet nothings into your ear, his fat cock bullying your sopping hole. The crashing waves are the only sound capable of drowning out the squelch of your cunt from him fucking into you so well.

You cum again with a loud cry, your body falling against him as you fully lose yourself in pleasure, becoming weak and limp in his arms while he holds you upright.

"Think you can handle one more?" he smirks.

You nod and mumble incoherently while he stops thrusting, positioning himself on your bedroll to lay fully on his back.

Your legs are spread as wide as possible over his lower torso and hips, your sloppy cunt exposed for all the stars and heavens to see.

You tilt your head slightly when Metia and the full moon come back into view. You mouth a breathless "thank you" to them, as it seems your prayers for having Clive come to your aid were answered.

In your delirious state, he guides your hand down to your lower abdomen, right where his cock lies inside you. He then takes his other hand to the back of your head and eases your neck upward to look at the protrusion, his cock causing your abdomen to bulge out. You go a little cross-eyed at the sight, and he takes your hand under his and presses down on the bulge, which draws out a low whine from you both.

He snarls, "Can you feel how deep I am inside you?" You nod haphazardly, not able to do much else. He chuckles at your disposition and begins to slowly thrust back from underneath you.

"By the end of this, I think you'll be molded to the shape of my cock, your cunt ruined for anyone else." He laughs while you whine and writhe; his slow, languid thrusts not enough to drive you over the edge.

"Awwww, sweet little thing just wants to cum again, huh?" He mutters in your ear, smirking as you mewl, your pussy clenching down on him while he laps up your sweat.

"Alright then, darling, I'll give you what you want," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before increasing his rhythm once more, his bulky arm coming down to scoop underneath your knees and pull your legs toward your chest, allowing him to reach even deeper inside you.

You do something unexpected; in your bliss-induced delirium, you bring his hand that's pushing down on your belly up toward your throat and wrap his thick fingers around your neck slightly. He huffs down at you, his body still hard at work, pounding into your sopping cunt.

"You want to be choked now, do you? This is new. Are you sure this is what you want, sweetheart? I don't want to hurt you." You nod as enthusiastically as your aching body will allow, closing your hands overtop his once again.

"Alright, alright, I get it," he chortles, slowly but surely pressing down on the sides of your neck, reducing the blood flow.

From behind, he starts foaming at the mouth, his thrusts getting more brutal both in pace and intensity. How he managed to last this long is beyond you.

He releases his hold on your legs and moves down to rub quick circles on your clit, his other hand squeezing down tighter as you get closer to release. Your hands come up to squeeze your own nipples, and the edges of your vision get hazy as you start to lose consciousness and feel extreme bliss.

"Cum for me," is whispered in your ears, and all of a sudden, your brain and lungs are flooded with oxygen as you experience the most intense orgasm of your life, letting out nothing short of a silent scream as your body spasms and arches wildly. The rush to both your head and cunt is greater than anything you've experienced before.

Clive keeps thrusting into you as he drives himself toward his own release, the bulb on his cock continuing to knock into you, ever so slightly entering you with every movement.

"Clive, w-what is that?" You rasp, your voice shaky from its extended use over the course of the night. He takes on a much more shy attitude after hearing your question, continuing to groan.

"It's m-my knot."

"Your what?"

"It's a wolf thing; it helps keep me inside after I... you know..."

"It helps with mating, but you don't have to take it if you don't want to."

You shake your head back and forth. "No, I want to. I want to take it."

"Fuck," he growls. "Are you sure?"

"YES," you wail.

"As you wish, darling."

It's a few short, sloppy thrusts later when Clive sinks his teeth into your shoulder, grunting and howling as he stuffs you full, pushing his knot fully inside you while he goes balls deep into your cunt, your pussy swelling and stretching to accommodate the excess girth.

"Heavens above," you cry, your back arching toward the sky as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, ropes upon ropes of his warm spend shooting deep inside you as he's milked for all he's worth.

You both slump against each other in the aftermath, his hands coming up to caress your body. "We're going to be stuck like this for a while."

It's sometime later that you're snuggled up on Clive's body as you lay both bare underneath the stars together. His huge body keeps you warm while you twirl your fingers into his chest hair, his mouth coming down to press multiple kisses to the crown of your head.

"So you won't fully transform back until sunrise?"

"Correct."

"And you've been like this for over fifteen years?"

"Mhm," he mumbles.

"Where do you go for those three days? Clearly, you're not at the hideaway."

"Do you promise not to laugh at me?"

"Who do you take me for? Of course, I won't laugh at you."

He sighs, trailing his fingers up and down your back. "I actually go back to Rosalith. I've got a little den set up there."

"How adorable," you tease, making a kissy face at him. "You'll have to take me to go see it sometime."

"I don't think so," he smirks.

"Wha- why not?" You huff, an adorable pout forming on your face.

"Let's just say that I really wouldn't be able to hold myself back in that instance, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there." He presses a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose.

"Okay, okay, last question. Did you really mean all that filth you spewed about why you disappeared all those times?"

"It's partially true. All my senses are heightened, and you truly do become irresistible to me. Not that I'm any less attracted to you normally, but it's...different." He pulls you closer to his chest.

"Though I suppose I was mostly afraid that you'd look at me differently and that you wouldn't want to be with me anymore."

"Clive, I've watched you prime into Ifrit with my very own eyes; do you truly believe that I'd leave you because you transform into a hound?"

"Wolf," he corrects.

"Same difference," you chuckle, raising your head from his chest to peer into his eyes. A lovesick, dopey grin is plastered all over his face when he looks at you, despite his words of insecurity.

"I'm with you no matter what, Clive. No matter the challenges or struggles you may face. I'll always stand by you. I love you, and that will forever remain true," you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips, and you swear you can see his pupils double in size as he repeats the phrase back to you.

You rest your head back on his chest once again, enjoying the feeling of contentment before speaking out, "We're going to have a lot of explaining to do back at the hideaway, won't we?"

"Oh, most definitely."

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