I Love Your Blog About Madara 😭♥️, You Could Write About Madara Being A Dad🧑‍🍼 I Love

Hunger.

Summary: "Anything you want," Kabuto went on, "anything and we can —" “That is not what I need,” Madara said, eyes never leaving yours Warning: SMUT, 18+ Word count: 2177 A/N: Wrote this for a friend who was getting over covid for the second time, jfc. Love you!

He crept from his crate, a hand on the threshold, pulling himself from death and into mortality. 

There he was, in front of you, towering and beautiful and alive. 

Madara, Father of the Uchiha, God of shinobi.

“It worked,” Kabuto said, marveling at his work. 

The cavern was grave silent as Madara took his first step into the world of the living, turning to survey you with blackened eyes. His presence was immense, weighing down the world. Instead of Kabuto, you were the one to step forward. Madara towered over you, the bangs of his gigantic mane falling over his face.

You swallowed, bowed. “My … my lord.”

Madara inclined his head, furrowing his brows. 

“Are you in —“ You choked. “Are in need of … of sustenance?”

A second. Madara turned to you again. “… Sustenance.”

It was not a question; it was as if he spoke the word to experiment with it, mull over its meaning, its context. His eyes met yours again and went through you. 

“Food,” You clarified. “Food, or — or water.”

“… No.”

“We are at your command, Lord Madara,” Kabuto said. 

It irked you how familiar Kabuto was being. To use his name so freely …

“Anything you want,” Kabuto went on, “anything and we can —“

“That is not what I need,” Madara said, eyes never leaving yours. 

Kabuto’s expression was inquisitive. 

“Your name, what is it?” Madara asked you. 

You perked, startled. You answered. 

At last, Madara took his eyes off you, facing Kabuto now.

“Leave us.”

Not a question but a solid command. Kabuto straightened. You could feel him look at you but said nothing, heartbeat quickening with the tick of seconds. In your peripheral, all you could see was Kabuto poofing away, leaving the cavern even more eerie in its quiet. 

You blinked furious at Madara, who hadn’t, you were sure, blinked once. 

“I … I,” You struggled. “I am at your command, Lord Madara.”

A beat and then Madara “hmmed”. 

“At my command,” he said as though he had never heard Kabuto repeat the same words. He stepped closer. “… That is good to know.”

“I —“ 

But whatever you were died away as, lightning-quick, Madara’s hand came behind your head, forcing you forward and crashing you to his lips. 

Your yelp was bitten away by the force of his kiss. Something slithered and a second later you registered it as Madara’s tongue invading your mouth, weaving with yours before retreating so he might nibble at your lower lip. Your hands were frozen in the air —

He lingered as he pulled away. He met your eyes again — and something was different in his, wild, feral.

“Do you know how long it’s been … since I’ve had a woman?” 

His hand snaked from your head to your waist, hoisting you up. With almost instinct, your legs went around him as he carried you to the center of the cavern, where a miniature mesa stood, rising from the ground-like mattress. Madara ravaged your neck, hands smoothing over and hooking under your thighs. You raved with his touch, overwhelmed by it all, sure that in some recess of your mind you were dreaming this and would soon wake up, body beaded with sweat and ruined sheets. 

You were so sure of your lack of lucidity you did not notice Madara setting you down until the chill of the rock hit your open back. You gasped as Madara’s hand slipped underneath your trousers, past your panties, and delighted in the soaking wetness it found there.

Madara growled — a low, bestial sound. He pulled back with a soaked finger. A second gasp as he yanked your panties to your knees.

Madara looked down, worked his jaw.

“You asked if I required sustenance?” he began, gripping hard on your thigh. “I do — you shall be my meal.” 

He kneeled. You swallowed your heartbeat as Madara yanked your panties to your ankles. He pulled your legs apart and leaned forward, giving your slit one experimental lick before fully breaching it to claim his prize.

You sounded out, fists clenched as the tip of Madara’s tongue tickled your clit. His tongue collected the wetness building at your opening, using it to further lather his tongue and bathe your clit. Your thighs clenched around his head, your hand going to unzip the front of your shirt to grip at your breasts, clench your hardened nipples. 

“At last …” Madara said, the heat of his breath hitting your labia, “something worth returning for …”

His mouth came over your labia, sucking and kissing the flushed skin. He hummed, vibrations of his voice rendering you speechless. You felt him pull away, only to brush a thumb against your clit, partnered with the ever-present flick of his tongue. Your back formed a pronounced crescent as he pressed a finger into your opening, your wetness surely spilling over the calloused digit. 

You could hardly breathe, legs growing slack; Madara Uchiha was making a meal out of you. 

“Tell me, young one,” Madara began, voice noticeably huskier. “Would you like another?” 

You gasped for air, desperate for air. “Y — Yes.”

“…Hm.”

A smack at your labia and you squeaked, flinching at the sudden attack. 

“M — My lord!” You corrected. “Lord Madara, yes!” 

And, once again, air left your lungs as Madara inserted not one but two new fingers into your opening, devouring your clit in his mouth. 

Your eyes rolled. I’m so full …! You grasped for something to clutch but there was nothing there — until Madara gripped your hand and placed it at the crown of his head. You gripped, hard, at his tresses, pulling him farther into your wet pussy. 

Madara’s pace became maddening, his tongue lapping endlessly at your aching clit. You felt your climax begin to climb, until — 

“Aaaah! Ha— ahh!” 

You clenched around Madara’s fingers, your clit becoming too sensitive to lick. You attempted to flinch away but Madara held you flat on the slab by your abdomen. You could do nothing but scream as Madara continued on finger fucking you, clit crying to be left alone. 

You threw your head back, through with it all as, finally, Madara’s fingers retreated from inside you. He moved away. You lulled your head to the side, and when you opened your eyes he was looking down at you, savoring the taste of you still left to linger on his fingers. 

A small, rumbling chuckle. 

“I enjoy you,” he said. 

You moved, hesitantly, to rise, but he stopped you. He was between your legs again but standing. He yanked your pants and underwear from the sag they rested at your ankles, threw them away. His hand reached up to unzip the rest of your top and your breasts spilled over the edges, leaving you only in your fishnet. You snaked out it, throwing the undergarment over your head, now completely bare before him. 

Madara teased the skin of your stomach, swerving past your belly button. 

“Sweet skin …” Madara hummed. He kneeled again, lips grazing against your knees, hands smoothing up and down your legs. “Yes, I’ve missed this; a fine specimen …” 

Madara left soft kisses against your legs, in a surprising moment of gentleness. You were still reeling from the overstimulation Madara had afforded you, so much so you did not immediately register the loss of his hands and lips against your skin. 

Until you opened your eyes and he was above you, shirtless, adorned in only trousers, and you realized time must have passed between your first blink and your last. 

Madara reached down, crept a hand behind your neck to pull you forward. He came to sit beside you, hand creeping down his trail of dark abdominal hair into his pants, pulling forth his cock. 

His eyebrows raised expectantly. 

“Come.” 

You stopped your gaping and followed. Nearly crawling into Madara’s lap, legs wrapped around his waist. His hand cupped the dip of your back to steady you. 

Settling hands on his shoulders, you bit your lip; you did not know how wet you were, and even as Madara’s cock tickled the tip of your entrance, just the tip hinted at the pain that was to come.

You faced him apprehensively — and froze.

His eyes had never been so dark, expression so determined. 

“Sit.”

Madara’s other hand came to grip the space married between your thigh and ass and sunk fingers into the flesh there. Once again, you obeyed; settling on his cock, easing onto his heated member. 

“Aa … aaa … ahah!” 

He bucked and you cried out, head flying back. You felt his cock invade, tear into your slick walls. 

Madara pressed you farther into him, skin slipping on skin. A dark chuckle.

You wrapped hands around his neck, face hiding in the croak of his neck as you struggled to swallow his cock. 

Madara had been as patient as he could manage; taking control of your hips, he guided you down, while also meeting your hips, beginning a rhythm you could only hope to soon grow accustomed to. 

“Aah …!” You cried, mumbling in his neck, his locks tickling the skin of your nose. “My — my lord!” 

Madara grunted, instructing your hips as he guided his own. “Go on, bite. Do you think you’ll hurt me? Foolish girl.” 

You leaned forward, biting into the thick of Madara’s shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. Another grunt from him, this time through gritted teeth. For a while, he was the only one moving if at all, pulling you down on his length, until, on what must have been the umpteenth thrust, you felt pleasure begin to blossom in your inner core, and —

“Oh …” You furrowed your brows. “Ahhhh!” 

You opened your eyes and noticed that, now, your hips were moving on their own. Grinding down on Madara’s cock, you used his shoulders to steady yourself as you rode him. You rocked your lower half into him, the harsh hair of his happy trail brushing against your flushed clitoris. 

“Ah — oh! My — my lord — I — oh!” 

“My name,” Madara hissed. “My name.”

“Madara!” 

He raised, bringing you along with him. He was on his feet and, with all his strength, thrust mercilessly into you. 

You screamed out. Elated with the privilege of saying your king’s name, you started chanting it, a string of praise on him and only him as you hung on for dear life. The Uchiha pounded you with all his might. You were arched back, delirious with pleasure — until Madara reached for your jaw, forced you to face him, eyes hot on yours as he set out his work. 

You felt the familiar tightness in your core and fought against it, cried out against it; you did not want it to end, but you were so close — 

Your eyes rolled. “Madara …!” You gasped out.

“Now,” he ordered. “Do it —“  

Madara’s assault was without mercy, preening your orgasm from you by force. You screamed, shudders rocking your body. You were left suspended in Madara’s hold, overwhelmed as his hand reached your womanhood and snatched your clit from under its hood, toying with your nub — 

“Ahh! Madara!” 

Madara growled. In a hurry, he set you down, forced you to your knees.

Almost on instinct, a frightening hold on your subconscious, you opened your mouth. Madara’s thick cock found your mouth, your cheeks hollowing for him. You sucked, the veins of his cock thick against the corners of your lips — and were rewarded with a harsh groan. Madara’s hand buried in the forest of your hair, forcing you yet closer. 

“Swallow it,” he ordered. “Swallow me.” 

Still drunk from the waves of your orgasm, rivers of hot, salty seed filled your mouth. Madara hissed as he emptied into your eager mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed, in bliss as you drank him. Madara lessened his hold on your head and pulled back, and you stroked mercilessly what was no longer in your mouth, swirling his cum around your mouth with your tongue, savoring the taste of your king.

King.

“Yess …”

When you drank the last drop, you dared to fall back. You released Madara’s cock with a soft pop, eyes traveling up Madara’s majestic form to see his head hung, eyes closed shut, brows furrowed. He was slowly recovering from his own climax, and your eyes fluttered, amazed. 

He was beautiful.

A million years later, Madara’s slit open, saw you underneath him. His face was calm again, having regained his composure. 

This time, you did not wait to be commanded; you stood, only to come up to his chest.

He reached out a hand, and met the back of your neck, only bringing you yet closer. 

“I’m keeping you,” he said. “You’re mine from this point forward.”

You blinked. Was this the best day of your life? 

“… Really?’

Madara smirked. “Didn’t I say I enjoy you?”

You blushed, having forgotten that part.

“Summon him back,” Madara said. “There is still much that needs to be done.”

Madara come-hithered with his fingers and you stood. He turned his back to you, walking away, and you — as you expected to be doing for quite some time —  followed.

I give up

A Night for Hunting Ch.8- The Currency of the Soul

T/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, thirsty vampire, seduction Words: 2459 On AO3 @alastorhazbin

The smoke was thick in a somber, cavernous room which was only illuminated by moonlight through colossal windows. It twirled lazily before dissipating to join the silvery haze shrouding the rest of the room.

A lone figure stood by the immense desk, taking an extended draw on the cigar she then rolled between two fingers. Her exhale cut through the silence. What a massive headache her bureaucratic position brought. Nearly nothing was made easier by her servant. Sure, loosing him on enemies brought a quick demise to anyone who opposed Hellsing, but the Vampire frequently created almost more trouble than he was worth.

“You summoned me, my Master?” A deep, inhuman voice appeared from nothing and resonated through the space. 

An inky puddle of shadow emerged from the carpet, writhing and twisting into an overly long figure, one with pitch black hair that fell straight to the floor. Lanky arms reached past its knees as it removed its fedora hat in a courtly bow. A gleaming vermilion stare pierced the darkness to regard the one who earned its respect long ago and now commands its loyalty.

Integra’s eyes narrowed at the creature before her. As dramatic and unsettling as ever, but some things will never change. 

“You are to explain your actions last night, Alucard,” she demanded with the dignity of royalty.

“Protecting London."

“Your rampage was not sanctioned. Do you know how much damage you caused the area around an important architectural treasure?”

He shrugged with a nonchalant expression. “Tower Bridge was not compromised.”

She stabbed out the cigar on her desk, crushing it in the process of creating a new circular burn on the sumptuous wood. “Then do you realize how many civilians heard the commotion?! We at Hellsing operate under the guise of a paramilitary organization. We depend on the public’s ignorance of the supernatural and you are inciting them to furor–”

"Do you order me to cease my activities?"

“...”

Her brow twitched in irritation. Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing was certain she would die one day from a ruptured aneurysm due to her servant’s actions and not via any interaction with other lesser undead. She took out another cigar to help compose herself and her butler lit the end.

"No. A vampire’s nest was successfully exterminated. Do as you will, as long as your activities do not detract from your assigned missions."

Dracula grinned. "As you wish, my Master," he hissed in satisfaction.

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

He came to you again one night when you were preparing dinner at home. There was knocking at the door and you put the ladle down in surprise when his voice touched your mind.

Permission to enter, Sweet?

It was him. You tugged the door open and awkwardly stood there staring at him, not knowing how to act since the truth that he did in fact save you came to light. You still experienced insomnia and night terrors from what you went through that night, but remembering the way Alucard kept you safe and tethered to reality afterwards made it more bearable. You shivered at the recollection of how you woke up earlier today.

“Permission to enter?” He repeated himself. 

His question jolted you from your reverie. Turning demure doe eyes from his crimson, you stepped aside and let him in before shutting yourself in with a vampire.

He held a bouquet. Show-stopping lilies in red and white with orange stardust speckling the petals opened to the heavens, which were offset by the romantic whorls of the red rose. Red really was his colour. Dramatic. Like he was loudly making a declaration. 

You blinked and commented without a hint of a sardonic tone. You were genuinely curious. “I recall you had disparaging words to say about flowers and bouquets.”

His grin was less eerie and off-putting than you remembered. "You seem to favour the living dead, thus I decided that I too will try my hand."

He really was proposing what you assumed. You loved flowers, but your favouring of the living dead? Memories resurfaced of a terrifying ordeal, where a monster from hell with razor sharp teeth hunted you through deserted streets, except it was with Alucard’s face. There were gunshots and bleeding. There was death and you sat in the midst of an extremely sad scene of pain and suffering. Wait, it was long ago, but the creature in front of you did chase you for sport once upon a time. After what he did…

He wasn’t the same monster as that other one. It seemed more apt to say that the living dead had a way of finding you.

With slow, hesitant hands, you accepted his gift and set it in a vase with fresh water. The vampire made a sound of satisfaction and headed over to ‘his’ seat. He took out his guns, which caught your attention and your eyes tracked his deliberate movements. He removed the magazines and set them down on the coffee table with a heavy metallic thud before leaning back to observe you.

He was disarming himself? As if he needed his weapons to threaten you. But at least you now knew why he possessed guns. After another moment of staring back, you turned away to continue preparing your dinner.

“I’m making pumpkin puree soup with stuffed chicken tonight.”

“Sounds appetizing.” 

Strange, perhaps vampires did eat human food unlike what the legends said? “I suppose I have enough for two if you’d like to try some.”

There was one food item for Alucard in the vicinity. She was standing right in front of him offering to feed him chicken instead. He chuckled. “I am well-sated tonight, little one.”

Did Alucard have a home chef prepare his breakfast of bloody gourmet dishes? Trying to picture this was mildly comical for some reason. Maybe he bit random people on the street before he came here? Or perhaps he had arrangements with a private blood bank where he ordered his favourite blood types. Why were you spending so much time considering his meal habits? Whatever they were, the answer probably wasn’t something you wanted to know anyways. And no, you weren’t upset that a vampire wasn’t interested in eating your homemade food.

“Suit yourself,” you replied flippantly. 

Soon enough, you became immersed in your cooking and forgot about your company and his hobby of watching you go about your night. You stuck an immersion blender in the pot to puree the soup. You started humming songs you couldn’t vacate from your head lately. After checking the temperature on the meat and taking it out to rest, you rinsed the garnish and prepared to chop it.

The melody was soothing. Ahh…the innocence of a lily indeed. They suited you well. Alucard tracked you around the kitchen and relaxed into his seat.

You suddenly remembered who you were with and lifted your gaze to catch your guest’s, which was of course already fixed in your direction, staring with lidded eyes, his posture and expression at ease.

…The darkness was oozing out of him and flowing along the wall and floor. The jagged shapes danced, the red-rimmed patterns constantly shifting in evolution between one moment and the next. It was actually quite mesmerizing and beautiful. What felt like several minutes passed. It was almost like the old times when he first visited, except this current experience was much less scary. He suddenly spoke. 

“Smells heavenly, sweet human.”

You jumped at his unexpected voice and the knife passed deep through the membrane of flesh between two digits where they connected. You could probably hear the sound of a pin dropping as the energy in the room shifted. Neither of you said anything.

You saw his pupils dilate and his gaze following the ruby rivulets trickling down your hand where the flesh was cleaved open almost down to the knuckle. The sharp pain didn’t register. You were too focused on the way he watched the flow and your heart began to gallop. You shielded your injury with the other hand as the drips pooled on the cutting board.

“Umm.”

"Sweet, allow me to assist with that." 

He was before you in an instant, taking your wrist into his grip and licking his lips. You gasped in shock and attempted to pry your arm from him unsuccessfully, wincing at the searing pain. A vampire faced with a banquet of blood. Danger. The stench of your fear quickly permeated the air and you glanced up in distress. 

"I promise I will not bite. I will only take what your wound gifts me," he told you softly, though those glowing scarlet orbs betrayed his excitement. 

You looked on with your heart in your throat as Alucard lowered his towering frame to his knees and peered up at you as his tongue slid out. It was unnerving to have the cold, wet appendage laving leisurely up the trail of your life essence from the wrist to your wound, where it dipped lightly into the broken flesh and circled around, making you hiss in discomfort. 

Your other fist balled up with apprehension. You forgot to release your bated breath as the vampire repeated the motions around his chosen path. Your jaw clenched as that muscle continued to extend and he pressed more of its length against the tear.

The licking stayed gentle.

You were still tense as you distantly noticed the pain retreating. And then there was purring. Heavy purring, the likes of which you’d never heard from this creature before.

"You...are a virgin," he breathed. He lapped at your blood again in wonder, though your scent alone was already unmistakable. 

"What's that got to do with anything?" You asked with a tiny voice, attempting half-heartedly to tug your hand from him again. 

Alucard’s interest was piqued. He had a taste last year, but that was only a miniscule amount compared to what he received from you now. You were so lovely, how was it that you remained untouched, unplundered? He nearly couldn't believe you were still a virgin. He was correct to call you “sweet.” The ambrosia coating his tongue invaded all his senses. His eyes travelled down your frame with a lascivious leer, his gaze darkening. 

But your anxiety was thick.

"Don't be afraid, little one. I will not hurt you," he promised with another purr. He kept licking at your wound with purposeful laps to help the flesh heal. It was getting difficult to contain his fangs. He sensed the blood under your skin rushing to your face. You were flustered. He smiled.

You were wet from the feeding. A brief fantasy flashed by. He was on top of you, your naked bodies entangled in passion. What would it feel like for him to plunge his stiff organ through your heated walls? Or his tongue? It was so long. A flush of heat raced to your groin.

You tensed and reprimanded yourself, but it was already too late. That grin looked extraordinarily pleased. It seemed he was made aware of your mind’s fancy. Oh no. 

The cursed creature made a show of inhaling and gave your hand back. The skin was bright pink where the cut was. If it weren’t for the numbing effect of the vampire’s doing, the wound would certainly still be tender.

Alucard rose gracefully to his full height with a suggestive, glittering stare. “That need not remain a mere fantasy,” he whispered, the lights once again catching his features in all the correct ways. His nose was tall and aristocratic. His tongue came out to clean up any escaped blood from his lips with agonizingly slow licks.

You clutched your hand and stared at his lips, fully aware this was also part of his ploy to seduce you. Ancient vampires like him were probably supposed to be alluring. You stood frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.

Alucard wanted you regardless of whether you had experience, but after tasting you and knowing there had never been anyone between your legs…he growled. He was used to bedding humans. He will make your body sing from this debauchery, such that you will never seek another partner.

“All your needs and desires will be fully realized. Let your darkest dreams descend.” His voice was deadly quiet, but somehow you heard it booming through your consciousness all the same.

The rumbling growl stirred something. Again, the image of Alucard moving through your core while your legs entwined blossomed in mind. Another string of nectar dribbled from between your petals to pool within your underwear. His eyes flashed.

That mysterious energy unfurled once more and his power engulfed you. You could hardly breathe as you took in his tented trousers and blown pupils. He must be fully erect.

How Alucard wanted to tempt you into depravity with him. He picked your hand back up gingerly. "Allow me to return this favour," he murmured. "You will enjoy what I do."

Everything in this moment was crystal clear. It was like Alucard’s presence sharpened your awareness, heightening the sensation of everything around you. You knew the vampire’s touch was supposed to be frigid despite the gloves, but he was like fire. His crimson gaze was molten flames, hot and erotic. Your skin was set ablaze while your loins roiled with heat. 

What was happening to you?

His purr vibrated again. No, it was more a cross between a purr and a growl. Your legs shook from the sound.

You were flustered by his beguiling appearance, the noises he made, and his eccentricities. You were conflicted by the conundrum that was this devilish beast. He looked like a man, but his mannerisms were at times more animal than civilized. Still, you found him attractive. 

When did these dark desires come to secretly possess you?

You recalled when he was last in your kitchen and he propositioned you for sex then too. That was the first time you noticed how exquisite this monster was.

But he didn’t manage to fully melt away your defences. "I don't want to," you whimpered and clenched your eyes. “Please stop this,” you begged.

A pause.

Alucard sighed, but his smile returned quickly as he straightened out to his full height. 

Where were his manners? He hailed from the Middle Ages after all. He should not forget his courtly manners and press a lady for intercourse without doing his due diligence. He will have to win your affection and earn the privilege of bedding you. 

His grin was brazen as he caressed the back of your injured hand and stooped into a proper formal bow as if he was still a human nobleman, pressing a delicate kiss to your hand.

"My Lady, then please allow me the chance to court you properly."

~To be Continued~

Next Chapter: Courtship

Notes: To be honest, Alucard should be able to tell that she’s a virgin with just a whiff and a taste from last year when he licked up the scrapes to her legs in Chapter 1, but let’s just say he needed a larger quantity of blood to be certain, for plot’s sake.

The next chapter has been rolling around in my head for months! It should be fun.

A walk through a park in my city last autumn

Never once missed leg day... Or any body parts day.

I'm pretty sure their dicks have muscles too.

* I haven't tapped into the comics much, so this post is about the movie boys.

which ao3 tag are you?

When it comes to sex scenes, the rules say things like: Don’t write them at all, and if you do, don’t use these words. Don’t write them silly, porny, dramatic, tragic, pathological, grim, or ridiculous.

My whole practical thesis around the craft of writing a sex scene is this: it is exactly the same as any other scene. Our isolation of sex from other kinds of scenes is not indicative of sex’s difference, but the difference in our relationship to sex. It is our reluctance to name things, the shame we’ve been taught, our fraught compulsion to an act a theatre of types. It is indicative of the lack of imagination that centuries of patriarchy and white supremacy has wrought on us. 

To teach sex scenes is to talk about plot, dialogue, pacing, description and characterisation: all those elements that make a captivating scene. A sex scene should advance the story and occur in a chain of causality that springs from your characters’ choices. It should employ sensory detail that concretises and also speaks symbolically to the deeper content of the story. Or if not, it should service your work of art in whatever ways you want from your scenes.

“Mind Fuck: Writing Better Sex” in Body Work by Melissa Febos

Yo, kinky thought (18+)

The first time you and Alucard have sex, he gives you a wooden crucifix with a sharp lower point, instructing you to use it on him should he get too rough or start to lose control

it is so dang funny to me that there is this cultural pressure for artists to be modest about their art. 'you cant say your own book is five stars' WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO RATE IT FOUR? buckaroo if you create ANYTHING from your heart it has all the grand cosmic uniqueness you do. CELEBRATE YOURSELF

I wanna pet Alucard like this so badly. Bonus if he makes that face and purrs 😍🤯💓

GIF from tenor

Male Yautja absolutely have a size kink, whether they've realized it yet or not. When he's used to his larger and equally ferocious female counterparts, the first time he's with someone as small and fragile as a human, someone he can dominate and toss around but have to be careful with, it wakes up some primal need during breeding he didn't even know Predators possessed.