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chocsra · 10 days

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✧ "YOU CLING TO YOUR PAPERS AND PENS;

(wait until you like me again)"

☆ synopsis ↺: your ex, chuuya nakahara drunk calls you, only to realise you're all he ever wants. (based off arianas song: we can't be friends (wait until you like me again)

☆ content ↺: angst, slight stormbringer spoilers, swearing

Haunted - (of a place) frequented by a ghost.

—You were no ghost, Chuuya knew that. But in the rise of the sun, and awakening of the moon, he was haunted.

No, he didn't feel haunted. He's convinced he is, even if the fuel to propel those kinds of shitty thoughts is getting drunk on days when he should be resting.

—

"I want to burn every memory of you."

Chuuya murmurs under his breath, gloved fingers twirling the base of the wine glass to stimulate his turbulent thoughts—vibrant emotions that swish in the swell of his chest.

"You'd have to burn your own skin." A sweet voice breaks through the bitter taste of the red wine dissolving on his tongue. The statement and hollowness of your voice make him sharply turn behind him. Nothing. Just his empty office, the window before it, the cold air dancing around his tensed-up figure. Your absence evocative him.

Chuuya exhales sharply, a chill running up his spine. "My own skin?.." He takes a slim hand to card his russet locks in a cold confusion, scoffing just a bit. "Shit."

The mafioso leans back in the leather seat of his chair, before pouring the last of his wine bottle into the glass. Patting down his bolo tie and white dress shirt, he decides to waste this night drowning in red wine. A heavenly distraction from the reality of your hauntings, or the reality of your absence.

18k worth of alcoholic beverages wasted, down in the trash. Inaudible words conform on the curve of his lips, words of plea. It was a huge contrast to when Chuuya left you. "I'm sorry, really am.." he whispers, remnants of his scarlet wine ghosting over his lips. Fedora placed atop his head, covering his face, Chuuya lazily took out his phone, punching in his password with the messy coordination of his gloved fingers.

You're here, that's the thing.

Your number.

The mafia executive takes a shy and longing peek at your contact. Your last call 3 months ago, your profile picture stained with an old photo of you kissing his knuckles with an innocent smile tugging on your lips, and his thumb hovering over the 'call' button. Even in this drunken state, in the back of Chuuya's mind, he knew calling you would be audacious and pathetic. Especially when he left you first, but in the front of his mind, all he wanted was you. To hear your voice, either empty or full anger, or your voicemail, polite and concise, to hear the humanity that he lost by losing you.

The winter night

Chuuya presses on the call button, his screen lighting up and ringing. No real expectation that you were going to pick up, considering the time and caller. In the sea of his heart, that dreadful feeling was fought back by the artistic shuffle of his delusions. His once romantic poems chanted a mantra for you to pick up, that you were going to pick up the phone, not your ghost.

Chuuya's brows furrow, planting a line in the middle of his glabella. On this chilly night, where the usual jazz tunes of ensembles played in the Port Mafia's lobbies, musky scents and a hint of jasmine, and the click and clatter of heels and dress shoes..

My heart grieves;

..Chuuya feels himself yearning. Yearning for something more than this. The scent of home, your articles of clothing, your skin. He wants back the memory he wants to burn so badly, to smell the smoke and die on that same hill..

Greives without reason…

.."Please pick up." He feels himself pleading. Chuuya may tell himself you're all he wants right now, alcohol running wild in his noggin. However, he questions if he even knows what he needs..

My heart is rusting, turning purple.

.."Hi, you've reached [Y/N]. Thanks for calling, can't answer at the moment though. But if you leave a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

Beep.

The night ends as Chuuya gently shuts off his phone.

But his first dream starts once enough alcohol is in his system.

They say the mind blocks out traumatizing memories to save itself from despondency. Nakahara Chuuya dreams, but he cannot grasp to remember that concept. Maybe, it's awful memories from his childhood or hallucinations from the children of the Sheep, or the Flags; Albatross, Doc, Pianoman, Iceman and Lippman.

"I'm sorry, if I stay with you, you'll just get hurt."

As if he was restricted in the ocean of his mind, Chuuya sees you and himself in your living room.

"I won't! You can send your bodyguards for protection, it's fine."

A constricted groan pulls from Chuuya's throat as he stares at the couch, wooden flooring, and anything but your pleading face. He remembers this all too well, the evening you separated. It was when Dazai left the mafia, and Chuuya continued to see his men drop like flies day after day from just his job alone. Apart from the other half of his soul disappearing completely, every piece of humanity he built up came crashing down on the body that his older brother called 2383 lines of code.

"It's not other people, it's myself! Don't you fuckin' get it?!"

A piercing silence fills the room. Aside from Chuuya's heart dropping at his own hurtful words, he tries to shut himself up, for looking at the way your eyes conform from pleading to understanding was all too much.

His voice cracking from the boiling misery in the pit of his stomach, Chuuya continues to look down, refusing to meet your teary eyes.

"You won't gain shit by being with me. I'm a monster, [Y/N]. I'm sorry."

The mafioso stares right at your pitiful figure, crystal tears poking the corners of your eyes. Like the hauntingly beautiful ghost he's ever seen through tunnel vision, Chuuya hasn't seen your truthful humanity in so long. For he saw you—a figment of himself, as he saw himself; inhuman.

...

"I'll always love you."

Chuuya snaps awake on his office chair, rays of sunshine ghosting over his ivory skin.

Pant.. Pant.

The man's eyes gaze at the loose ends of his office: the empty wine bottle, his dishevelled clothing, and the same, corporate-filled air surrounding him. Then, his phone.

2 missed calls.

Chuuya inhales sharply.

Perhaps it was the remnants of his dreadful hangover that took over him, that made Chuuya make the stupidest decision the Port Mafia has ever. But, his drunk words were his sober thoughts and, he wanted you back.

From [Y/N] [L/N].

Sent 7:35 AM — "Are you okay?"

And so, he swiftly grabbed his overcoat and dashed out of his office.

—

Mwah!

"I, Nakahara Chuuya, vow to love you forever and ever."

The man, bent down on one knee kisses the back of your hand teasingly. Chuuya Nakahara always took it next level, his grand gestures and sophisticated aura made him all the more appealing. That also meant planting an abundance more kisses on your fingers and knuckles.

You two had this unspoken code for each other: that hand kisses were an extremely valuable thing. Since Chuuya believes his hands are the ignition for Corruption, and are usually used for destruction, you could've chosen to have done anything with his ungloved hands to avenge the lives he's taken; but instead, you choose to kiss them.

"You're being corny again," you giggle, pointing to the bouquet in your hand—irises. "you even got me flowers."

You hit his head, huffing. "Hey!"

The mafioso smirks, chuckling. "I think you should be proud of yourself though," He teases, rubbing your hand gently, "you finally cooked something other than instant noodl—

Thwack!

—

In a disorienting manner, Chuuya hops off his motorbike at your workplace. Inhaling softly as he holds a bouquet of irises. All kinds of turbulent thoughts ran wild in his head, especially since he didn't get to shower yesterday. The man patted down his clothes and fixed his fair, adjusting his wrist to check his watch.

8:54.

Your work starts at 9:00 sharp.

Just as he's rushing to adjust his raven collar and fedora, the sight of your hair and work uniform catches his eye.

"Wait!"

—

Distance, timing and expectations.

The great adversaries of love.

A person cannot change distance or timing, but expectations are self-inflicted.

Chuuya felt like you were always going to expect more from him because he felt like he lacked in every way besides destruction. He expected that he was going to hurt you after Dazai left the Port Mafia, like a lingering spirit after they've lost their other half. Chuuya was responsible for inflicting negative 'what if's because of his own insecurities, losing you in the process.

He expected because you wanted him to stay back then, you were going to want that forever.

Because that's clearly not the case right now.

—

The redhead finally sees you in the sea of passersby, a clear image of your smiling face, pretty outfit, and glowing aura.

You stood out to him just like before.

So did the man beside you, with a bouquet of daffodils.

He took a fancy bow and kissed the back of your hand, handing over the flowers.

Oh, how irises—the flower of light, brought nothing more to him than darkness.

As crystal tears paint his eyes, Chuuya ponders the ache in his heart. He was truly foolish to believe more in your ghost, than you.

✧ chocsra™

165 notes · View notes

lovebugism · 1 year

Note

hiii idk if you’re still taking requests but can you do something smutty with steve in season 3 w his scoops ahoy uniform on after he gets home from work or something🙏🏼🙏🏼

like sub!babygirl!steve is so 🤤🤤😽😽 and a

dom!femreader 🫶❤️❤️ AND OMG HE HAS A MOMMY KINK😧😧 I BEG OF YOU

✶ ┄ OH, BABY !

summary: after a long day at work, steve harrington needs someone (*cough cough* you) to take care of him. pairing: sub!steve harrington / f!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: sub!steve, brief use of a mommy kink, r calls steve daddy like twice i think, mention of a breeding kink, 18+ mdni (ignore any typos, i am way too tired to proofread <3) a/n: hi, it's me again, turning a blurb request into a full length fic. also i can't stop writing for sub steve apparently. all i can say is baby girl is baby girlin real hard in this one lol thanks so much for your request! enjoy xoxo

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

It’s sunset by the time his shift at Scoops concludes. He serves the last few remaining customers while Robin less than kindly ushers out the loitering teenagers that have stuck around all day.

A group of moms clad in vividly colored spandex tells him “we’re being bad today” like some sort of mantra that makes them feel better about ordering plain vanilla ice cream. Some middle school aged girls with a mouthful of braces, crimped hair in pigtails, and absolutely wreaking of fruity perfume and daddy’s money try helplessly to flirt with him while they use a matte black card to purchase a banana boat sundae.

His last customers of the night are an old married couple, all gray and wrinkly and smiling like life’s still so new to them. They order one strawberry cone to share between them and hold onto each other’s shaking, frail hands as they make their exit.

Steve smiles as he watches them go. He sees a lot of you and him in them. He hopes by the time you both are all old and brittle, you’ll still be happy like that, still so in love.

Working in the downstairs abyss of Starcourt makes him feel crazy sometimes. With no windows and only manufactured fluorescent lighting for ten hours straight, it makes time feel less and less real.

Sometimes he’ll be in before sun out and cower like some sort of vampire when his shift is over. Other times, he’ll come out when it’s pouring down rain and be absolutely baffled at the sight of it because it was perfectly sunny when his shift started.

Everything else but ice cream all but ceases to exist in the hole of Scoops Ahoy — weather, time, life.

Even though it’s closing when he leaves, Steve doesn’t realize how dark it’s gotten outside until he’s walking through the desolate parking lot to his car. The bustling mall has fallen asleep with the rest of the town. The sky has long turned to a navy velvet, the stars and full moon bright white silk.

It makes his limbs heavy and his eyelids heavier as his tired bones ache for rest.

Steve makes the longer drive out to the cabin rather than his own home to see you. Hopper’s out for some conference which means El gets to spend every ounce of her time at the Wheeler’s and you and Steve get to play house.

He doesn’t bother to knock before he comes in. He shuffles through the entrance like his feet are made of lead and leans his weight against the door after he clicks it closed.

The sound of his arrival gets your attention from where you scurry around the kitchen. A smile pulls slowly at your face as you turn over your shoulder to look at him, placing a cover over a pot of something that smells like your infamous chicken alfredo.

“Hey, Stevie,” you greet with a beam and a sort of sunshine in your voice that Steve’s been missing all day.

His body relaxes for the first time since he got up this morning at the sight of you, freshly showered and in your pajamas for the night — an oversized t-shirt that definitely didn’t belong to you before, because it used to be his.

You look more like home than any four walls could ever be to him.

Steve tries his best to give you a smile in return, but it’s weighed down by fatigue and not all there.

You can see it all over him, every ounce of exhaustion on his lax and tired features. Slinging ice cream for less than grateful customers for ten hours straight has taken an obvious toll on him. The bright blue sailor’s uniform makes him look more boyish, but no less tired — or hot.

Your heart swells at how cozy he looks, fatigued and warmed and in dire need of being taken care of. It makes you glad that you started dinner earlier than normal, even happier that you’ve got the house to yourselves.

You exit the kitchen and walk the short distance to him, taking his scruffy cheeks in your palms and rubbing your thumbs against his cheeks.

“Hard day?” you wonder softly and smile to himself when you feel Steve nestle further into your touch.

The boy hums lowly in reply — neither a yes or a no, but a short hmph that means he doesn’t want to talk about it now. He doesn’t like thinking about work when you’re in his arms and all over him. He’d rather pretend like you’re the only thing that exists and let the rest of the world slip slowly away.

He turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrists. You smell like lavender, he finds, and it makes him that much more tired and needy for you.

His hands settle on your arms, fingers wrapping themselves just below your wrists. “Just tired,” he answers finally. “How was your day?”

“Better than yours, I’m assuming,” you quip with a smile. Your hands drag from his face, down the tense columns of his neck, and settle at the white lapel of his uniform. Steve lets you pull him down by his red neckerchief until his lips press against yours, the pillows of them far cozier than the bed and blanket he so craves right now.

He grows somehow heavier against you. He exhales deeply through his nose as his aching muscles start to relax, the warmth of it brushes against your cupid’s bow. His hands fall to your back and ball into your shirt as he clutches so ardently onto you, as though terrified he might have to go another agonizing ten hours without you.

Your smile contorts against his mouth. A laugh exhales sharply through your nose at this tired boy, exhausted and too willing to let you swallow him whole.

As much as you want to take care of you him, you want him to get a little food in his belly and fresh clothes on his skin.

He’s got freshly laundered cottons sitting in a drawer you cleaned out in your room especially for him and a pot of his favorite food simmering on the stove. He’ll be golden in an hour or more and you’ll happily take care of him then.

Steve whines when you pull away from him. The pathetic sound bubbles from his throat and his face screws up like you’ve actually pained him by not kissing him more. He ducks down, looming over you, as his lips chase yours.

You giggle at him, letting him kiss you — one, two, three quick pecks and a fourth sweeter, more drawn-out one he presses against you as the two of you stumble back into the living room.

“You need to eat first, okay?” you protest when you part from him again, lips clicking wetly as they separate. “You probably haven’t had anything all day.”

“I had half a banana in the break room at lunch,” he retorts, half-heartedly.

“Exactly,” you scold. “Go get changed and then we can eat, ‘kay?”

“If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you could’ve just said.”

You roll your eyes at him and how he’s still so sly despite being so damn tired. You push playfully against his chest and squirm out from under where he’d cornered you between his body and the back of the couch. “You smell like a sundae and cheap cologne—”

“Blame those assholes from Abercrombie.”

“—hit the showers, Harrington,” you tell him with a playful sternness, swatting him on the ass as you pass by him.

The action stopped surprising him a long time ago. He’d complained relentlessly about corporate and the stupid outfit they made him wear to work every morning until he realized how much you liked it.

After that, Steve figured he could put up with the itching and the chaffing and the weird stares from other mall-goers. As long as it meant you being unable to keep your hands off of him, dropping to your knees in front of him before he left for work, visiting him at lunch because you just had to see him again.

“You comin’ too, or…?” he jokes in reply, already inching towards the bathroom, but secretly hoping you’ll say yes.

You refuse to amuse him, though, and instead tell him that you have to keep stirring the pasta so it won’t burn. He’s too tired and too excited to wash all the muck of the long workday from his body to beg.

You knew just what he needed — like you always do. He’s as good as gold by the time he gets out of the shower, smelling of your shampoo and practically glittering at how good he feels.

His skin gets to breathe for the first time all day when he slips on a pair of boxers and a faded forest green Hawkins High sweatshirt. They’re freshly washed. He can tell by how soft they feel and the way they smell of fresh detergent.

It makes his heart swell.

While he’s been slinging ice cream and questioning all of his life choices, you’ve been washing his clothes, folding them and putting the in their own drawer in your dresser. You’ve been cooking him his favorite dinner, knowing he hasn’t eaten all day, because you know everything about him.

You do it all because you love him. You don’t have to think twice about it before you so effortlessly take care of him.

He swears you’ll feed him if he begs hard enough, but Steve hasn’t reached that level of tiredness yet. He does, however, force you to sit halfway in his lap while the both of you opt to eat on the couch in the living room rather than the kitchen table.

A repeat of Miami Vice plays on the tiny television across the room and you tell him about what you’d done on your day off in between shoveling forkfuls of pasta into your mouth with your legs slung into his lap.

Most of it was spent taking care of chores, a feat made harder without Hopper and El to take on the extra workloads but easier because their absence meant less shit to get done.

You drove Dustin and Lucas to the Wheeler’s house later that morning, then doubled back across Hawkins when Max called and all but begged you to free her from the hellscape on Cherry Lane, as she so lovingly put it. You picked her up and dropped her off with the rest of her friends.

And even though they all swore they had rides back home, they’d called again some hours later and asked too sweetly if you could take them back across town.

You complain and grumble about it, but you do it for them anyway.

Because you take care of people. That’s just what you do.

“So you were a personal chauffeur for a bunch of kids all day?” Steve jokes and laughs to himself as he swipes a smudge of alfredo sauce from your chin with his thumb

“Basically,” you nod in reply.

When that’s all done — and the episode is over and the dishes are in the sink and your teeth are freshly brushed — you tell Steve to get into bed, and then to get his head out of the gutter at the look he gives you after.

He’s pleasantly surprised when you bring a whole basket of things from the bathroom and into your bedroom. He watches silently, obediently, as you light a candle on the far side of the room before climbing into bed beside him.

“Scoot down a little,” you tell him. “And take off your shirt.”

He does it all without question. He rises, strips himself of his top, and tosses the thing mindlessly on the floor beside the bed. With his lean torso and bare chest on display, spotted with tufts of chestnut-colored hair and smelling of your body wash, he lazes back onto the bed again with his head on the pillows.

Steve holds his breathe when you straddle his chest.

“Comfy?” you ask him quietly.

He can only nod in response.

His eyes are wide, twinkling with love and curiosity. It makes you smile. He’s always so soft in his way, so compliant with you — and, fuck, if you don’t love how he looks when he’s underneath you.

You lean down to press a chaste kiss to the chiseled tip of his nose then reach for one of the many bottles stacked inside the wicker basket. You drip the rose-scented liquid onto a cottonpad and tell him that it’s cleanser.

“I thought I was already clean?” he retorts.

“Well, this shit is gonna make ya glow like a baby, Harrington,” you tell him and swipe the stuff up and down his face — across his forehead, along his nose, and around his stubbly jaw. “Which means it’s perfect for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re a baby,” you quip once, then smile lovingly down at him. “My baby,” you correct.

“Damn straight,” he hums with a soft smile, then shuts his eyes when you trade the cleanser for what you call a liquid exfoliator. He doesn’t ask what that means. He doesn’t say much of anything really, because he’s enamored with the way you dote on him.

Your day has been just as busy as his, maybe not as mind-numbing, but still busy. You’ve been bouncing all across town, trying to make sure a bunch of kids weren’t putting themselves in total danger — Steve knows firsthand how hard that can be.

And yet, you keep caring for him, like it’s more important than how tired you must be.

The way you’ve settled on top of him is just a bonus. It’s not as domineering as you usually are in this position, straddling your legs over him and forcing his face between your legs with your fingers tangled in his hair. He wouldn’t have minded if that’s what you’d done in the first place. He would’ve thanked you for it, really.

It’s comforting more than it is anything, the subtle weight of you on top of him, keeping him grounded.

You rub something that feels like lotion into his skin. The tips of your fingers massage his face — they dig softly into his temples, relieving all the strain there, then trace around his curve of his jaw. Steve sighs and melts into your touch. It makes you laugh.

“Look at you,” you giggle, all soft like the moonlight streaming in rays from the windows. Then you tease him. “My baby’s gettin’ all pampered tonight, huh?”

“That stuff smells really good,” he notes. “Think it’s safe enough to taste?”

You know he’s joking, but you flick him in the center of his freshly moisturized forehead anyway, when his tongue darts out the side of his mouth to lick around his lips.

“You’re such an idiot,” you scold with a laugh. “There’s no way we’re gonna be able to have a kid if you keep acting like one, Steve Harrington.”

The boy's eyes fly open. “…A kid?” he repeats in something short of a whisper.

You only hum in reply with a little shrug like you’re trying to play it all off. Like you didn’t just drop the biggest bomb on him and left him to pick up the pieces. Like it isn't the sweetest goddamn thing he’s ever heard in his life (even though you are sort of making fun of him).

“You want a kid with me?” he presses, eyes sparkling and full of hope.

“‘Course I do,” you shrug again, focusing on capping the moisturizer and putting it away rather than meeting his intense gaze. “Want anything and everything with you, Stevie.”

The boy doesn’t bother to hide the grin your words put on his face. He’s all but beaming from where he lays beneath you, trying to make sure he’s still breathing because his heart has started to flutter something fierce.

It was something the two of you only ever talked about in passing — usually him bringing up the idea of having kids and you swatting them all down.

“We’re too young,” you tell him. “We’re too broke”, “we’re too dumb.” The occasional “my dad is literally in the next room, he’ll kill you if he hears you talking like that” shuts him up real quick.

But here you are now, telling him you want a baby with him, that you want everything with him. It drives him absolutely insane.

“Yeah?” he hums in response, idle hands rising and settling upon your bare thighs, rubbing at the smooth skin there, petting you almost. The room gets suddenly and unbearably hot with the look he gives you, innocent and knowing and hungry.

You feel him shift from underneath you, the hardening cock in his boxers making it hard to stay as comfortable as he had been.

“You wanna be a mommy, honey?” he all but coos. “Wanna take care of our kids like you take care of me?”

Though his words set a fire in the pit of your stomach, the tone of them makes you roll your eyes. It’s like flipping a light switch when it comes to Steve. It takes next to nothing to turn him into a puddle of mush.

He’s always raring to go when it comes to you, and you’d be lying if you said it was totally invigorating.

“What happened to my sweet, sleepy, baby Stevie, huh?” you tease, hands leaving his face to caress the ones he’s got resting on your thighs. “Thought you were too tired?”

He shakes his head defiantly. “Never too tired for you.”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you scold with bubbly laughter when you feel his large hands trail up your legs. His finger falls beneath your shirt, the tips of them sneaking into the rounded hems of your underwear, all but cupping your ass to drag you further up his chest.

He’s practically salivating at the mere thought of tasting you. Of knowing that the only thing separating you from him is a couple of inches and the thin fabric of your underwear.

He knows that when he slides them to the side, you’ll be wet and needing him underneath, slick enough for his tongue to slip right in.

And, truth be told, oral sex wasn’t the easiest when you weren’t alone. It was too precarious of a position. If Hopper knocked on the door and barged in hardly a moment later, you needed to break away quickly.

So when your dad and little sister were home, it was easier to use your hands to get each other off. And, maybe, if Steve was real good, you’d let him fuck you.

But his mouth on you? There wasn’t enough good he could be for you to let him do that, not when your father was on the other side of the door in the living room. Because you’re pretty sure death would be easier than your dad catching Steve Harrington giving cunnilingus to his daughter. You’re pretty sure you’d die on the spot, anyway.

But Hopper is miles away. Your sister is on the other side of town. And you’re alone with your boyfriend, hidden away in a cabin in the middle of the woods. It’s the perfect recipe for the best sex of your life.

“Don’t care,” Steve murmurs, pressing kisses to the inner parts of your thigh when he settles you more intently over his shoulders. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” you croon. From below you, the boy notes the arched brow and knowing glint in your eye that usually means trouble. “Daddy wants to make mommy feel good, huh?”

Steve knows exactly why you said it. Why you chose to say it like that. It’s the same reason you brought up the kid thing in the first place. Because you knew it would drive him crazy.

And it’s not like you ever had to try to make him mental, all you really had to do was walk into a room and he was done for. But you didn’t just want to just make him go insane, you wanted to ruin him.

And you know you’ve done just that when a groan spills from his mouth and two strong hands dig rather ruthlessly into your hips. He pulls you down without warning, pressing your clothed pussy closer to his face and dragging his nose between your covered lips. A moan leaves your mouth in a heavy exhale when the tip of it nudges your clit.

“Like being called daddy, huh?” you tease through bated breaths.

Steve nods in reply as he hooks a finger through the hem of your panties and slides them to the side, putting your pretty, glistening pussy on display for him.

He was right about what he said before — you were soaked.

All but drunk on the sight of you, he presses open-mouthed kisses to your inner thigh. “Like the other thing, too,” he mumbles against your skin, like he’s hiding himself there.

“The other thing?” you question with pinched brows. The confusion ebbs like a rolling tide as you realize: “Oh. You wanna call me mommy, Stevie?” you ask with a joking lilt.

“Shut up,” he groans against you.

He’s pleasantly surprised when your hand grabs the strands of his hair like reigns, pulling him back just before he puts his mouth on your pussy. He’s even more stunned at the stern expression taking over your features, not nearly as playful as you’d been moments before.

Suddenly you’re ten feet tall, and he’s nothing more than an ant, at the mercy of your boot.

“That’s no way to talk to your mommy, is it, Stevie?”

He shakes his head with glazed over eyes. “Sorry.”

“Sorry… what?”

There is an underlying tone in your voice, something teasing and yet somehow serious all at once. It’d make him roll his eyes if he weren’t lying beneath you like this. Now, with your pussy mere inches from his face, he isn’t quite sure how to be anything but obedient.

“Sorry, mommy,” he corrects.

A flip switches and you’re smiling again. “Good boy,” you praise and it makes his cock twitch in the confines of his boxers. Your hand guides him to your pussy again.

Steve’s always been good at oral. A little too good, actually. It made you jealous sometimes, to know that his technique has been perfected over years of experience.

“All the other girls were just practice for you, honey,” he’d soothe your seething rage with a wink and a tongue shoved deep into your cunt.

You believe him now, that every other girl was just an obstacle for him to get to you, because no one’s had him like this. No one will ever have him like this.

You’re the one who’s got him on his back with his mouth on your pussy. You’re the one who’s got him calling you mommy.

And it makes you feel like a fucking giant.

He wastes little time to envelope your cunt with his mouth. You feel the muffled grunt he lets out at the tangy and familiar taste of you. His tongue pushes into your cunt, licking you with the intent of devouring you entirely. His nose presses intently against your clit, prodding the little button as you ride his face. He encourages every thrust, guiding your hips up and down his mouth.

“Fuck, Stevie,” you whine and feel him smile drunkenly against your pussy, never ceasing his assault against your sensitive skin.

Your head falls back, suddenly too heavy to hold up. Your gaze settles on the ceiling, though you’re not exactly looking at it, and moans fall from your open mouth and into the heavy air — billowing laments in the moonlight.

“You make me feel so good,” you murmur to yourself, but to him especially, knowing he turns into a ticking time bomb when he’s praised. “Always make mommy feel so fucking good, baby.”

He groans against you, and it makes your hips twitch over his face.

Your head turns and your glazed over eyes fall on the hard cock trapped in his underwear. It’s more than apparent against the thin fabric with a wet patch of precum darkening the plaid cotton. The sight of it, paired with his lips wrapped around your clit, makes you moan most pitifully.

“Fuck, Steve,” you cry. “You’re gonna make me come. Holy shit, baby— gonna come so hard in your mouth.” The promise makes Steve double his efforts against you, wanting nothing more than to taste every drop you can give him. “I’ll ride you after, 'kay? Make you come so hard you can’t see straight. Fuck. I’m so fucking close.”

You figure his muffled whine is an affirmative.

“If you make me come now, maybe I’ll let you come inside me—”

You barely get to finish your sentence before Steve’s wrapping his arms around your thighs and keeping you pressed against his face. His tongue works overtime inside of your cunt, attentively flicking against every part of your velvet walls that it can reach, while his nose nudges your clit most relentlessly.

It has you reaching your climax within seconds, hips jerking against him while his hold on you tightens. Steve only lets you go when he’s certain you’ve ridden out every inch of your orgasm.

You’re shaking and half-numb when you unfold your body from his and settle next to him on the bed. You press yourself over him as your lips swallow his, tasting yourself on his mouth that glistens with you.

Your torso is splayed over his bare one, knees digging into the mattress at his side as you arch your back to push yourself further into him.

“Was that good for you?” he mutters after you’ve pulled away, sliding the tip of your nose up and down the bridge of his.

A laugh escapes you in a sharp scoff. If he couldn’t have felt how good it was for you — after you all but writhed against him — surely he must’ve tasted it dripping like honey from your cunt.

“It’s always good,” you assure him, then murmur more quietly, “Always so good for mommy.”

You keep the promise you’d made him no more than minutes beforehand. You pull down his boxers at the same time he’s trying to get you out of your shirt, and it’s just a mess of yearning limbs until the both of you are naked.

You rub yourself over his cock a few times, getting it all slick with you in the place of lube, because you know taking him is never an easy feat. The stretch of his dick inside you is always delicious but fuck if it doesn’t burn. It’s like fire in every sense of the word, hot and filthy paired with a distant ache.

Steve lets you set the pace as you get used to his length nestled deep inside your velvet. His hands rest compliantly on your hips as you grind against him, honeyed gaze fixed on your fucked out features as you take him — brows pinched, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Then, when every inch of him is snug in your cunt and your senses return to you, you deny him of his want to touch you. Your fingers wrap around his wrists and push them into the pillow on either side of his head. “Mommy didn’t say you could touch her, did she?” you purr to him as you lean over him. He shakes his head obediently, if only it meant that you kept fucking yourself on top of him.

And you do. Most ardently.

You keep your bare chest pressed against his fuzzy one, nose-to-nose as you slide your hips over his. And even though he’s had you like this before (in this position and many others), it feels brand new every time. It’s like he’s never felt you before despite how familiar you feel.

It triggers his body into a sense of fight of flight, as though frightened he’ll never get to have you again. It leaves him fucking you like it’ll be the last time he’s inside you, every fucking time.

It never is, though — obviously. Most times he only has to wait a couple minutes or more before he gets to take you again.

But now, with his hands balled into fists beside his head and your’s braced on his chest, digging into the patch of hair there as you rock back and forth on his hard cock — the tip of it nestled deep inside of you and hitting every sweet spot that makes you keen — has left him an absolute wreck beneath you.

He’s chasing his pleasure like he’s never felt it before. Like he won’t feel it again.

“Your cock feels so good, Stevie,” you moan above him.

“‘M not gonna last long, baby,” he mutters between harsh and labored pants.

“’S okay… I want you to come,” you promise and press a too sweet kiss to his swollen, pink lips. You move your hips more intently over him. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your bedroom. “Want you to fill me up.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out in something short of a whimper. His eyes are glassy and his brows are furrowed and it takes everything in him not to fuck up into you — because he wants to be good, he wants to be good for you.

“Yeah… Want you come in me… Fuck me until it takes,” you babble over top of him, knowing exactly what it’s doing to the whining boy beneath you. “Wanna give you a baby— fuck— I wanna make you a daddy, Stevie.”

A whine spills from his throat. His toes curl into the fabric of your comforter, eyes rolling back into his head, body tensing as he digs his fingers into the skin of his palms that still ache to touch you.

Your name spills from his mouth along with a string of curses and pretty little cries when he stuffs you full of his come.

You happily accept every load he shoots into you as work him through every aftershock of his orgasm. Yours doesn’t come so easy — you roll your hips over yourself and rub your clit until you’re twitching right along with him.

You come down from your highs together with a tender softness. You lay over him, one hand combing through his curls and the other stroking softly at his sweat-slicked bicep. You watch with heavy eyes as his orgasm rolls over him.

His chest rises and falls with every heavy breath, stuttering when another pang of pleasure hits him all of a sudden. “Fuck,” he whines harshly into the heavy air.

He’s happy you don’t deny him when his arms wrap around your waist, hands rubbing up and down the expanse of your slick back.

You press tiny kisses to his face as he comes down — his nose, his cheeks, his forehead his stubbly chin and jaw. You press one, two, three pecks to his lips before you slide off of him, then laugh when he whines.

You’re gone for hardly more than three minutes, but to Steve, it feels like an eternity’s gone by.

You return from the bathroom, wiped freshly clean, and blow out the nearly burnt-out candle on your dresser before you slither back into his side. One of his arms curls beneath your shoulders to pull you closer to him with his other rests on the back of yours that’s settled on his chest.

You share one pillow, noses inches away from one another’s, while you bask in the warm moment and the sex-coated air around you before you have to break it.

“You know I’m still on the pill, right?” you ask him.

He nods.

“And that we’re—”

“Way too young to have a kid right now?” he finishes for you, though the idea makes him sad. He nods.

“Yeah… And—”

“Too broke? I know that too.”

“Also my—”

“Your dad would kill me if I got you pregnant?”

It makes you laugh. You hadn’t realized you’d talked about having kids this many times — at least, not enough for him to memorize all the reasons why it’s not the best idea right now.

“Yeah, I know it’s not happening any time soon,” Steve says with a sigh. “I like to pretend, though. Plus, it’s not even about that to me, you know? I just… I just like being with you and… everything.”

Everything, you repeat to yourself. A word that means so much and nothing at all.

No one knows what everything means, they just know that it’s a lot, a whole lot. That’s what makes it so special. Steve wants it all with you — the overbearing dad, the sister with powers, the teenage kids who never let you have a single second to yourselves when they’re around.

It’s a lot sometimes, most times, but he’ll weather it all with you.

“You like being with me?” you echo just to see him nod.

He does. “I love being with you,” he corrects.

“Love calling me mommy, too, huh?”

He realizes then, the sincere moment was just a set-up for that stupid joke. He groans and flops his head back on the pillow, but makes no move to distance himself from you.

“Oh, my god,” he moans in annoyance. “Am I gonna have to deal with this the rest of my life?”

You nod. “Sorry, Harrington, but I’m never letting that shit go.”

Good, he thinks to himself, even though he pretends to hate it because it makes you laugh. He never wants you to stop.

#published by bug #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie oneshot #st oneshots

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theycallmeazalea · 1 month

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God form Nezha

Full pic:

Thoughts: I personally think Nezha’s war/god form would be massive, not to mention in an old depiction of him he’s seen holding the sun and the moon in his hands (that’s why I quoted him being the earth). I feel like his god form would be called “Nalakuvara/Nalakubara” since that’s what he’s referred by in old texts and even mantras. Anyways I had fun sketching this out, I tried to make him more deva like, like in Buddhist depictions. Since this is Lmk Nezha I put some elements of his nickname ”demon child”, giving him tusks like teeth on his right head, I also gave him the headpiece Erlang is seen having in the animated version. Because this is still a sketch this is not the finalized version of my depiction of Nezha’s god form :P

#lego monkie kid #art #digital art #lmk nezha #lmk #painting #monkie kid #nezha #lmk fanart #lego monkie kid nezha #monkie kid nezha #nezha lmk

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azure-cherie · 1 year

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Asteroid Kaali 4227

Mythology:

Also referred to as Mahakali, Bhadrakali, and Kalika (Sanskrit: कालिका), is a Hindu goddess who is considered to be the goddess of ultimate power, time, destruction and change in Shaktism.[1] In this tradition, she is considered as a ferocious form of goddess Mahadevi, the supreme of all powers, or the ultimate reality. She is the first of the ten Mahavidyas in the Hindu tantric tradition.She is regarded as the ultimate manifestation of Shakti, the primordial cosmic energy, and the mother of all living beings. The goddess is stated to destroy evil in order to protect the innocent. Over time, Kali has been worshipped by devotional movements and Tàntric sects variously as the Divine Mother, Mother of the Universe, Principal energy Adi Shakti .She is also seen as the divine protector and the one who bestows moksha, or liberation.

As per my interpretation the placement of asteroid kaali in someone's chart is somewhere they are blessed with divine power to put efforts and change things, the placement of ultimate power , somewhere they can start their tantra /spiritual practices with , place where they can attain moksha, where Kali protects .

Placements:

First house/Aries

You have the principle power over yourself you know yourself and your motives and you know how to use your own inner energy to cultivate change within yourself and with others, your attainment of spirituality in this lifetime would be through yourself, through working on your body , observing others etc. You are protected by Kali when it comes to wounds and physical ailments, she would be helpful for you to receive guidence in matters of self confidence and growth , in becoming your best self , she could be a guide to your dark feminine aspects.

Second house/Taurus

When it comes to your attainment of power it comes through sense of possession , buying things , mostly things which match your aesthetic value , you have the power to make a lot for yourself if you choose to step into it , your power comes from your stable subtle beauty and eye for it , your spiritual practices can begin with a fair ground to improve your allure , glamour magick or enchantment, you will be protected in your finances .

Third house / Gemini

Your voice is your awakening, your opinions your weapons , you are the trigger, your power lies in accepting your voice , using it for the good , you could also use manipulation for getting things you want , your affirmations and mantras could be your initiation to your practices, you can even receive mantras in dreams if you wish to , you could have oracular abilities as well.

Fourth house/ Cancer

Your sense of security is your foundation, you're the embodiment of the mother type in triple goddess symbolism, you're fertility in full bloom , your power lies in protection , birthing of new ideas , creativity, your power sterns from love , you could do protection magic as well as magic that involves feeling your sexual energy, as well as moon magic . Take a note of your energy on full moon.

Fifth house / Leo

This gives very much "The love witch " vibe, your transformation is through love your transcendence is through love , with young love in your heart and forever in your mind you can create the life that you want , you could be blessed with great deal of manifestation, since Kali protects this area for you , you will be ripped off from any wrong person in love , and eventually the right person will come into your life . You're esoteric, you could start with channeling your daimon however be careful.

Sixth house/ Virgo

Healing is something that you can do , not just for yourself but for everyone around you , in the physical realm as well , you know the people say so and so doctor has magic within them they cured someone no one else could , that kind of magic , you can choose to heal people and yourself, starting with reiki and small healing spells , making potions as well . Regardless of the good side you have the thing about inflicting pain and vodoo as well , but do it to the bad people who deserve the pain .

Seventh house /Libra

Your power lies in relationships that you make , you derive so much love and support from them that it helps you in your practices as well , your vivid imagination as well helps you get so many things , your partner could be source of magic , you can do spiritual things together and based on the foundation of counterpart energy you guys can grow together . Kali will protect the relationship that is right for you.

Eighth house / Scorpio

You're the embodiment of transformation true form of dark feminine, you derive power from sexual practices, from changes from the things that kill you , you make them their power, sex magic could be a great option for you . Kali will protect you in areas of your transformation, whenever you are brought down remember you will definitely rise above greater

Ninth house / Saggitarius

Wisdom and education are so important for you to get the power that you deserve, you're intelligent and mindful and that will lead to you getting the most in life , you could be a guru , you could do great in philosophical fields. You can write sacred literature and esoteric books , your knowledge is sacred and will be protected

Tenth house/ Capricorn

You're methodical and know how to do things the right way that is your greatest power , you will hardly fuck up anything because you are so into working hard and making things perfect, with great connections you will lead an easy pathway to success. You will be granted ample strength in doing what you put your heart to.

Eleventh house / Aquarius

This placement very much reminds me of the origin of Kali , please read on it for greater information, the point where she goes on destroying the evil around her , you guys will be blessed by Kali to maintain yourself even in the times of extreme chaos, she will look after, you have a very great power to change things through rightful violence, violence works for you , use it wisely tho.

Twelfth house/ Pisces

Your power is your strong almost blurring intuition, visions , you know so much but do you tell them enough, if you pray to Kali and wish for her to come visit you in her dreams she will , she will guide through the spiritual part in your life , worshipping her will be life changing in subconscious ways , even i cannot explain.

Thank you so much for reading i hope this helped take care love love .

#astrologer #astrology signs #astrology #astrology asteroids #asteroids in astrology #astro community #tropical zodiac #sidereal astro #asteroid astrology #asteroids astrology #astrology community

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astrologylunarfish · 2 years

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Full Moon in Sagittarius mantras:

Break the rules, don’t break hearts

Enjoy the view

Take a trip, take a walk, take a drive

Breathe

Laugh

Find your truth

#full moon #full moon mantras #mantra #mantras #astrology

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lazyneonrabbitt · 3 months

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Unconventional couples and their necessary assistance spells: Inked Sigils.

Werewolf!Daryl Dixon x Witch!Reader SMUT 🔞

Fate brought you together, spells finally brought you family.

"G'ahh fuck it hurts.." Your pained voice dragged throughout the cabin.

"Quit yer squirmin', ya got this." Daryl's stern voice made a point, you had to pull through and that last move almost hurt you more than both of you would have liked. His rough hands held your body in place as he spoke encouraging words. "Yer so strong."

You sniffled and hiccupped through the hurt. "Daryl, I can't.." Your eyes went from his worried ones to the blood covered sheets you laid on, your body bare in front of your lover.

"Yer gonna pull through, know it hurts ya but yer gonna be happy later." His hand moved back to your lower belly, rubbing soothing circles against the skin before whispering a soft 'sorry'and returning to his previous actions.

He took the large needle from the bowl next to him. The liquid it was drenched in a combination of yours and his blood mixed with different kinds of herbs and ingredients that held magical properties when combined.

His large hand held your skin taut as he started carefully copying the design from the spellbook that laid beside him.

You two had found each other by accident, both spotting that same cabin and hoping to call it home. Both having nowhere else to go and noone to go to, you decided to share and see how it'd go. You could both feel the others' ties to the moon and felt that the mutual connection helped you in becoming friendly. Starting with him keeping you safe from the dead as you performed a full moon cleansing ritual, and you cooking up some remedies to sundue the pains of changing shape under that same moon and rubbed ground up healing herbs onto his wounds whenever healing them on his own took too much energy.

It wasn't long before you were sharing a bed together during the nights, and a nest under the full moon, cuddled up in furs and pelts.

You sat down to discuss something which neither of you had disclosed details of. But as it turned out you had the same plan. You wanted a child with the other.

But that proved to be more of a challenge than you had expected it to be as many moons had passed and you still weren't carrying his offspring. No matter what lycantrophic full moon rituals you performed or fertility spells you put both you and Daryl under, nothing seemed to work.

It broke your spirit to disappoint your lover like this, to be unable to give him what he desired. But it broke his heart even more to find the bed empty when he awoke at night, seeing you huddled up at the fireplace, surrounded by piles upon piles of books and scrolls that maybe held the answer to your troubles.

Even when he had held you close night after night whispering it wasn't bothering him and he still loved you just as much you wouldn't give up.

And then you stumbled on the ritual you were currently performing. From a book you had shoved aside time and time again because it had this strange vibe around it.

You sat down with Daryl to look the ritual over and both agreed to try and to not quit halfway through.

With each prick of the drenched needle you felt the spell binding to your organs. The book spoke of pain but you never expected it to be this bad..

Breathing heavy and biting down on an old rag you tried to focus on the future and distract yourself from the hurt for as long as Daryl needed to finish the sigil on your lower stomach.

He watched you struggle to stay outstretched, your body practically begging to curl up and hide. The words he kept repeating to you like a calming mantra seemed to help just enough to sit through the remaining time without needing another break.

The sigil was done, the unfamiliar surge you felt made that clear enough and you let out a sigh of relief, knowing this torture was over.

He took the utmost care with cleaning up any mess and making sure you were comfortable the whole time but not liking the dark veins spreading from the fresh sigil and seemed to disappear deep into your body.

By the second your skin was cleared of any residue you snatched the book to refresh your memory of the next step. Inspecting the pages you hummed at the simplicity of the next step. "Says we fuck now," you state simply. "When the initial discomfort of placing the sigil is over, you body is prepared to carry offspring of whichever lifeform you lay with." Quoting the page's words to your partnerwho was setting the bowl and needle aside.

"Ya sure that discomfort's gone? I know yer excited but--" His question was interrupted by you frantically grabbing for the basket of bloody rags and hurling, emptying your stomach into it.

Tears falling as you curled into yourself and shrieked in pain.

Daryl was on you in seconds trying to find the source of your discomfort as you cried in his arms. His free hand ran over the book to read over the spell once again, but it said nothing about this much pain after the sigil placement. All it did was give a general pain warning at the start.

"M'okay. P.. promise." Steadying your breaths took a moment but you fought through the pain. He laid you down to get some water when he stopped dead in his tracks.

Daryl sensed a shift in the air. Your scent was changing. A fast, drastic change that almost forced him to shift right where he stood. All he could do was breathe in the scent of a female wolf begging to be bred and he could feel his human shape starting to give way as his nails formed into claws and a growl slipped past large fangs.

He dropped to his knees as the change washed over him and resisting you became even harder.

You noticed him shift and gathered the strength to look over, only to find staring at you like a piece of meat, pawing at his hard cock.

You wrote his behavior off as a side effect of the spell, and with no time to prepare, gave him the okay as most of the pains had faded to just a dull ache.

"S'okay.." You gave him the most genuine smile you could manage and braced yourself for the claws you expected to tear into you like the last time he was this feral.

But the claws never came.

They placed beside you as he hovered over you and took his time working himself into you with slow thrusts untill he had his ready swollen knot pressed against your spread lips.

He lapped at your tears until he felt the soft press of your hips against his, and set off at a less calm pace.

With each of his thrusts you felt the stab of the sigil deep inside of you and begged it was a good sign. Daryl's large paw reached to rest on your stomach and you feared for pain that never came. Yoir skin had healed over so you went back to focusing on the delicious drag of Daryl's large member against your walls and the pad of his finger that had found yoir clit. He could feel your discomfort and tried to finish as quickly as possible, rubbing at your sensitive nub to get you off and squeeze around his cock to help him over the edge too. It took him only a few more thrusts before he started lapping at your back and thrusted hard into you, locking his knot inside and filling you with his seed.

His cum burned hot against your walls, feeling him empty himself inside of your womb and leaving you with a slight swell after he had calmed and laid down with you.

Daryl still wasn't sure how he felt about you going through all this pain, but all he could do was hold you close and make sure you were comfortable. Your back was pressed against his and his large frame curled adound you. One paw rested underneafh his head while the other one reached out to take your hand in his and rest them together over your stomach, silently praying to the moon he shared so many nights with, to let this pain be worth it in the end.

Only when he was entirely certain you were fully asleep he reached for the book again. There were no further steps or notes for the spell. They were done so all there was to it now was wait for signs of it taking.

Somewhere during the night he shifted back into his human form and covered you both in a large blanket and sleep some more. He had made sure to stock up on food so there was no need to leave your side, so he wouldn't unless you'd ask him.

The next day Daryl was in what you had started to refer to as 'guard dog mode'. Wether in his human form or not he'd hover around you, sniffing around for any changes and looking for any discomforts to the point of you smacking him on the forehead with the soup spoon. "Daryl." Your whole demeanor still groggy from yesterday. "Eat your deer at least three feet away from me please." You were seated next to the fireplace to stay nice and warm while you recovered, and Daryl was next to you as he was roasting deer over the fire that heated your soup earlier.

With a grumble he moved aside, looking likr a defeated child at the other end of the decorative rug gou salvaged soon after you officially started living together.

"Oh come on. Don't sulk like that, baby." If he'd be in his shifted form right now he'd be giving you huge puppy eyes and soft whines. "Jus' wanna touch ya." He spoke quietly, reminding you of fhe one thinv he'd tell you every single time he bred you. "First fourty-eight hours are important fer our kind."

He was right. You were closing in on the twenty-four hour mark and he still hadn't sensed a change in your scent. Maybe this spell didn't work either. Maybe witches and werewolves just weren't meant to mix.

He noticed the change in your posture and glanced over, quickly understanding what was going on. Again.

Every try, without fail you'd become discouraged after the first day of Daryl not telling your scent changed.

"Ya still got time." He reached out his hand, hoping you'd accept it. He'd also hoped his prayers were heard last night and everything was just setting in slow.

You saw Daryl's outstretched hand and placed yours on top of it, giving him a soft smile before skillfully lifting your bowl of soup and slurping up the last bit.

"I believe you, Dee." You squeezed his hand in yours. "It's just my head being loud, I shouldn't listen to it." Shaking your head at yourself you set down your bowl and rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling and then back at Daryl who was still gnawing the last bits of meat off a piece of bone.

"Wha'cha want?" He looked at you on the floor with a brow raised in question.

"Maybe we should just pluck a feral dog off the street and keep it." You looked at him in the corner of your eye, waiting for a reaction but he gave none besides a huff of disbelief.

"What?" You laugh as you roll onto your side. "A cute German Sheperd. Or maybe some kind of terrier if those are even still around?" You kept your eyes on his and shrugged. "Would be cute."

He rolled his eyes at you and let out a breathy laugh as he accused you of messing with your soup and that being the reason for your stupid ideas.

"Or maybe I'm trying to stay in a maternal mindset. Who knows what emotions do to bodily spells."

Neither of you had any idea about it. You tried this one out of pure desperation because honestly you were tired of failing.

"Ya think goin' for 'nother round's gonna up the chance?"

You gave it a thought and shrugged, sitting up and moving over to him. "At least it'll kill some time and help us fall asleep."

Daryl tossed the bone near your bowl and laid down on his back, watching as you straddled his hips and rubbed yourself on his clothed cock. A pleased hum escaped his lips as his grabbed at the hem of his pants and shoved them down when you lifted your hips to adjust your position.

"Eager are we?" He mused with his hands now on your hips, underneath the soft fabric of your robe that you wore with nothing underneath. He guided your hips at a slow pace as you felt him getting harder with every stroke until you felt he was slicked up enough to press into you. With one smooth motion he was all the way inside of you.

You needed a second to adjust but quickly set a steady pace riding him with your hands on his chest for balance.

You kept note of his sounds as you selfishly chased your own high, not needing long before toppling over the edge and squeezing your walls around his length and making him groan. His hands moved up to hold you steady as he set a brutal pace to finish himself off as well.

He had stilled for a moment before you noticed he was still just as hard as before and experimentally wiggled your hips again, leaning down to kiss him as you lifted yourself off him only to sink down again.

He let out a deep moan as you sank down on his still sensitive cock and grabbed a hold of you to keep your head next to his. "Yer really into it tonight, huh." You felt a grin form against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his hands again sneaking his way to your hips and grabbing them in a bruising hold. "Looks like you are too, baby." If you had to go off the grip on your hips he wasn't gonna go easy on you. He had lifted you ever so slightly to get the right angle and rut into you from below at a harsh pace, having you moaning into the crook of his neck. He hit that spot inside of you with every skilled thrust and had you coming around his cock once, twice before he spilled deep inside you for a second time.

You both needed a moment to breathe before either could even speak.

"Wanna go slow before bed?" Daryl's gruff voice wondered with a soft roll of his hips to accentuate the question.

"Hmhm.. yeah." You lifted your upper body off his to lazily roll your hips against his, enjoying the feeling of him inside you.

Daryl met your hips with his each time, admiring your figure above him.

You followed the movements of his hands as they undid the bindings on your robe and letting it fall open at your sides so he could admire your beautiful body.

His gaze fell onto the sigil still visible on your body and wondering if it'd fade after the pup was born.

He imagined you eight weeks from now, nice and round, the sigil following the curve of your belly as you laid resting in the nest he had built for you.

His lazy thrusts kept up a nice rythm along with yours, soft breaths leaving you both as you enjoyed the closeness. There was no need to finish anytime soon, and you could just as wel keep up the soft rythm until you both got muscle cramps and then go to sleep.

Which is exactly what you did. Your legs were the first to give out with a tired huff and a fit of giggles while Daryl's hips kept going for a bit after, letting you sit on his as he rolled his hips a few more times before stilling.

"Sleep?"

"Sleep."

----

After cleaning yourselves up Daryl took you in his arms and led you to bed, peppering you with kisses as he tucked you in so he could go put the fire down to just a smolder before disappearing underneath the blankets as well. As he laid next to your sleeping frame he couldn't help but sniff at you, just to see.

He sniffed once, twice and he could swear you smelled different than before.

As careful as he could be he lifted the blankets to get more access and he was sure now. Inside of his mind he howled in celebration.

He had only one problem. You were in deep sleep already, and waking you has proven time and time again to be something very dangerous.

He'd tell you in the morning.

----

You rose with the sun, as any other day. But today Daryl woke with you.

"What's got you awake so early, baby? Bad sleep?" You were already brewing yourself tea when he came up behind you, hugging you close with his hands protectively over your lower stomach.

"Words, Daryl." Your free hand reaches up to scratch his scalp, earning you a soft hum before he spoke.

"Congrats, momma."

With one hand he took the cup from your hands and with the other he turned you around, revealing the smile he had been unable to hide.

You didn't even have time to question him before his lips were on yours, giving you the most love filled kisses you'd ever gotten.

Whwn he stopped to take a breath you could have sworn there were tears in his eyes and everything suddenly clicked in your hazy morning brain.

"Holy shit." Wide eyes stared up at Daryl's bright blue ones. "For real? It worked?" Your voice got more excited with every word and Daryl happily nodded his head. "Yeah it did." He laughs as he pulls you into a giant bear hug, lifting you off the ground before placing you down again. With your body released from his grasp your hands flew to the large shirt you wore, lifting up the hem all.the way to tuck it under your chin as you looked down like you were expecting to see change already.

Of course you knew you wouldn't see anything on the outside for another few weeks, but still you stared. Daryl had sniffed it out when he woke up so it had to have worked. There was a tiny little being growing inside of you.

The two of you celebrated in your own way. Spending all day curled up in each other's embrace and preparing a feast for dinner before spending the evening in front of the fireplace, talking about all kinds of nothing until sleep took you both.

You felt rested the next day. Happy and confident you wouldn't turn into a puddle of doom and gloom, as Daryl called it before he left to hunt.

With him out of the cabin for at least a few hours you decided to clean up, get your dried herbs in the correct jars and plan which ones to plant next.

You hung some pelts out on the porch to air and fluffed up the bed.

The fireplace got cleaned out too and got new firewood in it and Daryl's nest was properly arranged again as well.

You stood and stared at it, letting your mind wander to his large beast form holding you close as your little furry half wolf pup slept in your arms. That was the life, gou were so ready for this and couldn't help but want to throw the whole place around and pup-proof your home.

But Daryl would probably curse you out if he found you doing any lifting at all. So you stuck to rearranging your little kitchenette.

You were cleaning off the suncatcher Daryl had gifted you when you spotted his figure appear from the woods.

A wave let you know he had spotted you as well as he made his way back to the house.

He had caught some smaller animals, bringing his catch inside to proudly show off and going back out to prep them.

"Hey, Dee?" He looked up from where he sat on the porch, chewing on what you guessed was raw meat.

"Can you cut up that squirrel for me? I wanna add some meat to the soup."

"Tha' one?" He pointed the knife at the one he was currently gutting, and continued his job when you confirmed.

"Thankyou, love." You stepped up to him and kissed his head and took his pack off fhe floor and took it inside.

He had been so kind to look out for any edible greens that grew near the farmland not too far off, so now you had greens to add to your currently still very bland soup.

Daryl made sure his work was done before losing daylight, bringing you your requested meat and prepping the rest for later.

After dinner you took the aired out pelts back inside and added them back to the bed and nest and spending another evening huddled up together.

Time passed slow now that you were waiting for your belly to show, but today was herbal remedies day for Daryl. The full moon was coming up and it never stopped affecting him negatively.

After the first two moons being miserable for him you decided to brew him something special. It was a tryout the first time, giving him a slightly different blend of herbal tea each night of the moon and letting him decide which one worked best.

On the third full moon cycle your remedy was close to perfect and even though he hated the taste he didn't want to go without your remedy ever again.

You had a pot of water over the open fire to boil before you put the sachel of herbs in it and let it simmer for a bit while you ate dinner.

"After all them years ya still haven't tried ta make it somewhat tasty." The grimace on Daryl's face was never one you wanted to miss. You'd apologise every time but all the tastiest herbs would screw with the effectiveness of the brew. "Medicine is never tasty, love." You gave him am apologetic smile and took the cup from him as he got ready to head out to the woods for the night.

You'd always sleep with the curtains open on these nights. You knew he'd sometimes returned to the porch and wanted to see you.

Three days went like this each month. When the moon was gone again Daryl came back, rested a lot and after dinner he'd drink his herbal medicine and set off again a little later.

After the full moon nights passed you'd let your lover sleep for a full day while you cooked up a nice meaty stew for when he woke up. He was always so hungry.

But so were you now, so that stew was a welcome meal that you now decided to make more often. You thought of suggesting keeping a forever stew going during your pregnancy since you ate so much more now.

A soft groan came from behind you as Daryl woke up from his day and a half long slumber, sniffing the air and humming happily. "Ya always spoil me, lil' witch."

Sharing a nice meal as first thing after waking up was important to Daryl, and now even more as he took only one bowl of stew and had you laid against his chest. Two spoons in the bowl of stew as Daryl sat down in the nest with his back against the wall and pulling your back flush against him.

Was it the most convenient way to eat? Not really, but it worked out and any time spent cuddled up with your partner was time spent well.

As time passed you shared the little celebrations of your favorite pair of trousers not closing anymore, your old sports bra no longer fitting nkcely and eventually your belly showing through the loose, flowy dresses.

It was getting more difficult for Daryl to keep his hands off you, almost begging for you to walk around in sweats and a cropped shirt of his so he had easy access to rub your belly and feel the pup kick.

The last full moon before your due date was only a few days before it and Daryl had stated multiple times he'd prefer to stay home, hide from the moon and stay human. He tried once before when suffering from a bad case of food poisoning and being too weak to shift properly and it took a toll on his mental health. All the way to the point of you feeding him a mixture of herbs that forced him to shift and sent him away to get his head sorted. You couldn't do that ever again.

He had reluctantly taken your remedy and left, but staying close to the cabin.

His howls were clear enough to know he had barely gone past the tree line and sure enough you spotted a moving figure on your porch not long after.

Daryl barely left the porch those three nights. He'd go out, change, eat and come back to sleep on the porch in case you'd need him. Even his day long sleep was cut short.

"Cuz I slept a lot the last nights" was his argument, but you knew he wanted to be awake in case your labor came early. "Werepups are unpredictable." He'd say.

You were convinced Daryl was more worried than you were when your due day came and went with nothing more than a few strong kicks. He had barely left your side that day, on you any time you felt a kick. You tried to sleep as much as possible, making sure to keep up your food intake and drinking enough during the day and spent all your time huddled next to the fire, at the edge of the nest that had been thoroughly prepared for the pups.

Another day and a half had passed, the sun now high above the cabin as the pains had gone from kicks to full contractions.

Daryl had you laid out on an old blanket within seconds and was fumbling through your jars of herbs with no knowledge of even what to look for. "Which one's the painkiller again?" He held up different jars hoping to make sense of the labels but all of them just held names, not uses. He was clueless and it sucked.

"Babe, it's in the rack next to the fireplace." You couldn't help but laugh at his panic in between pains. "Don't need it yet. Just put the water back on the flame so it heats up."

You would have done it yourself but you knew Daryl was gonna snap at you doing anything besides laying down and breathe.

It was night by the time you were taking your painkillers, the only source of light being the fireplace and some candles as you worked hard to push your pup out.

Daryl was so supportive, following any and all snappy order you threw his way and had his hands in any and all needed places like second nature. The soothing salve you had made tingled at his fingertips as he rubbed it over your belly with the most gentle movements.

With his help and your brewed works your pup was born without complications. But you weren't given much of a breather as the second pup followed quickly after. By the time both were born the sun just peeked above the horizon.

You tiredly stared at Daryl while he cleaned the pup's fur before placing her next to her brother on your chest.

Your eyes kept going from your pups that were quietly nursing, to your loving partner who was cleaning up and lovingly staring at you in between actions. You had been gently moved off the now soaked blanket and onto clean furs so the old ones could be taken out. You and the pups should be comfortable, nothing else mattered.

You were slowly dozing off by the time Daryl had come back inside taking a bowl of stew for himself, but not without offering you some as well. "To keep yer strength up."

You managed to get a few bites in your system before eating became too much of an effort and all you wanted was sleep.

Daryl was all too excited to come lay down next to you and take the pups into his arms.

He had chosen to rest in his shifted form to keep you and the pups warm, making sure to give you an extra blanket to cover your nude form.

That night he barely slept. His gaze focused on the steady rise and fall of your chest and the pups' occasional squirming.

He thought he had found true happines when fate brought you two together. But being here now, curled around the love of his life and his children he felt like he finally had everything he could ever wish for.

Well, that was untill after the pups had grown a bit and you were looking back on the rough path you had to take to get them.

"You know," strips of meat hung off your fingers for your pups to snatch away. "I'd be happy to do it all over again, with you by my side."

A/N: okay I tried to find any tattoo pic that wasn't skinny white girl, but this was the closest I got after millions of tramp stamps, pierced belly buttons and ugly designs.

#sometimes I write #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon smut #twd #twd x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd daryl #twd au #werewolves #werewolf #monster x human #human x monster

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tiredwitchplant · 7 months

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Everything You Need to Know About Crystals: Carnelian (Red)

Carnelian (The Sunset Stone)

Color: Red, orange, pink, brown

Rarity: Common, easy to obtain

Hardiness: 7

Type: Agate or Chalcedony

Chakra Association: Solar-Plexus, Sacral, Root Chakra

Angels: Michael

Deities: Isis

Astrological Signs: Leo, Taurus, Aries

Element: Fire

Planet: Sun

Origin: Britain, India, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Peru, Iceland, Romania

Powers: Success, Confidence, Motivation, Courage, Sexual Energy, Vitality, Action

Crystals It Works Well With: Aquamarine, Beryl, Super Seven

How It is Created: It is part of the chalcedony family. It is made up of silicon dioxide colored by different levels of iron impurities, with specks, banding, or stripes in many shades of brown or orange-red. The stone itself has a beautiful warm orange color that is best appreciated when it is polished.

History: Since ancient times, carnelian has been polished and worn as jewelry. The Egyptians used it to contrast with onyx and lapis lazuli in the making of collars and necklaces. The Romans were fond of it set in gold, using small beads in earrings or larger polished stones in finger rings for men and women. In the Middle Ages, carnelian was also popular as a healing stone. It was said to dissolve anger or rage, protect the wearer from negative influences, and promote courage.

What It Can Do:

Can be used in spell for success, confidence, and motivation

Can bring a burst of inspiration and energy

Is good for sex magic and sometimes menstrual support

Can cleanse and restore other crystals

Can help those in abusive situations by providing inner strength and movement to the right path

Help with mental preparation with childbirth

Calms angry emotions and puts a stop to mental lethargy

Can restore vitality and remove the fear of death

Was used to protect the dead to their journey to the afterlife

Dispels apathy and motivates success

Improves analytics abilities and clarifies perception

Removes extraneous thoughts in mediation and tunes daydreamers into reality

Can stimulate metabolism and improve your life force

Can influence reproductive organs and increase fertility

How to Get the Best Out Of: Use as a pendant or belt buckle, or place in contact with the skin as appropriate.

How to Cleanse and Charge: You can cleanse and charge carnelian with the sun.

Crystal Grid:

Creativity Grid

Shape: Flower of Life or Vesica Piscis

Mantra: “Creativity flows through me.”

Center Stone: Carnelian sphere or tumbled stone

Secondary Stones: Rainbow moonstone, larimar, kunzite, orange calcite

Moon Phase: Waxing phase or full moon

Day: Wednesday

Sources

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davidananda · 7 months

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youtube

Om chandraya namah moon's mantra. Happy full moon.!

#david ananda #davidananda #spotify #mantras #youtube #bandcamp #full moon #Youtube

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caffeinewitchcraft · 2 years

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Cinderella Doesn’t Believe in Fairytales (pt 2)

((Part 1 Here))

Magic won’t fix anything.

Cinderella holds onto words. Commands. Be patient. Be kind. One big loving family. Magic won’t fix anything. Her loved ones’ words ring in her head the entirety of the following month, soaring above and diving beneath each other.

Sometimes the boy’s voice says, Be patient.

Sometimes her father says, Be kind.

Sometimes her mother says, Magic won’t fix anything.

Cinderella’s rations are in order. A week’s worth of dried foods to sustain her journey into town. It’ll take her a week on foot, three days by carriage but she doesn’t have access to a carriage. Her stepmother will be taking it. Her mind whispers, the Capitol is a week by carriage. You could—

She lets her mantras drown the thought. Cinderella is too old for fairytales.

The mice watch her from the windowsills the day of the full moon. She is mending Anastasia’s stockings by the fireside. It is the last time she’ll do so and she attempts to summon some fondness for the chore. It’s her sister who trusts her with this task, she has spent so many evenings warm and cozy with a needle and thread, she has gained some skill in mending from so many years practicing—

No fondness wells. Instead Cinderella’s eyes burn from the length of time between blinks and her heart beats so slowly that she feels like time is moving backwards. The fire crackles and Cinderella breaks the thread with her teeth, finishing the mend as sloppily as she can. With any luck, it’ll rub and give Anastasia a blister while she dances with the Prince.

She’s horrid. Did her mother see this side of her when she made her daughter promise to be kind? Cinderella starts on the heel of the next stocking.

“Cinderella.”

Stepmother is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, one elegant hand presses to the rough stone, the other behind her back. Drizella peeks out from beneath her arm, hair piled up on top of her head. Anastasia hovers behind, swishing her emerald skirts from side to side.

“Yes, Stepmother?” Cinderella asks. Her voice startles her. Low and rounded and empty. She is deep inside her own head as Stepmother steps into the sunlight streaming through the small window above the preparation table. “Is there something you need assistance with?

“I have been thinking,” Stepmother says. Her chin lifts and her eyes glint when she eyes the basket of stockings. “You have…shown efforts in this household. I know the girls and I have not been as attentive as of late. Our focus has been entirely on the ball. Yet, I would not have you thinking your…help has gone unnoticed.”

“It was my idea,” Drizella blurts. She darts under her mother’s arms and pelts forward, nearly falling when she stops just short of Cinderella’s seat. She grins down at her. “This is my idea!”

“Our idea,” Anastasia says with a sniff. She steps around her mother with tiny, practiced steps. She’s using a strange accent, half Capital and half west mountains. She’s been attempting to blend into the upper nobility. “We thought of it together.”

“Yes, my girls are so kind,” Stepmother says. She reveals what she’s holding behind her back and Cinderella’s breath stills in her lungs. It’s fabric, beautiful, shimmering silver fabric. A hint of a lace sleeve peeks out from the bundle. “Here.”

Cinderella stands. This can’t be what she thinks it is. She doesn’t reach for the bundle even when Stepmother takes a step forward, hand outstretched. She swallows. “Is that a dress?”

“We had some money leftover at the seamstress,” Drizella says, leaning into Cinderella’s side. She tilts her head to rest on the taller girl’s shoulder. “Isn’t the color beautiful?”

“I didn’t want lace on my dress,” Anastasia says. She sits in Cinderella’s abandoned chair, smoothing her skirts like a court lady might. “So the seamstress said she could add it to yours. You’re welcome.”

Cinderella is staring at the dress. This can’t be real. Something in her chest trembles. Were they thinking of her at the seamstress’ studio? Her? “Why?”

“So you can attend the ball of course,” Stepmother says. She takes another step forward. “I am not so ungenerous as to ban you from going. Did you think I would?”

Yes. Cinderella’s hand trembles when she reaches for the dress. Her fingertips graze the smooth fabric. “It’s beautiful.”

“As beautiful as you are,” Stepmother says. Stepmother’s voice trembles. She blinks quickly as if holding back tears. “I have never told you so. It is not good for a girl of your…station to nurture ideas. However, I have come to regret my restraint.”

Don’t! Cinderella ignores the warning. Her heart is aching so fiercely that she can scarcely breathe. She takes the dress from Stepmother as gently as she would hold one of the mice. “You want me to come with you?”

“We’re all noble daughters,” Anastasia says primly. Her eyes are on Cinderella’s folded dress. “Wearing that, you might look the part.”

“Indeed. We leave in an hour,” Stepmother says. She holds out her hands to her daughters. “Come, girls. Let’s not get in Cinderella’s way. She must pack quickly.”

Cinderella feels light headed. She strokes the fabric and marvels at how cool and light it feels against her fingers. She doesn’t have anything else to wear to the Capital, not a stitch, but she has a dress. A dress her family gave her.

Don’t.

“But I want to see her open it,” Drizella whines. She walks backwards towards her mother. “Go on, Cinderella. Take a look. You’ll love the silhouette.”

Cinderella hardly notices Anastasia tiptoe around her. They bought her a dress. She doesn’t care what it looks like. It could be decades out of fashion. It could be completely bare. She doesn’t care. They bought her a dress and Stepmother acknowledged her hard work and—

Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t—

Cinderella unfurls the dress. Something so light she didn’t notice it in the folds of the fabric drops to the ground and rolls.

Coal.

The dress is streaked with black soot, the front wrecked by the stains. There is no lace on the dress except for the one sleeve. The hemline is unfinished and cut at an angle that can’t be salvaged. The silver fabric is ruined everywhere except for the back panel of a skirt which Stepmother had used to conceal the mess.

“Oh, dear,” Stepmother says as Cinderella stares at the wreck. The trembling in Stepmother’s voice isn’t regret. It’s glee. “My, Cinderella, your dress is a mess. You won’t be able to go to the ball after all, will you?”

“In that?” Anastasia asks. She presses a hand to her chest, once again safely behind her mother. “No, no, no, you could never go in that.”

“Maybe you can clean it,” Drizella says. She’s bouncing on her toes. “You’re good at cleaning, right, Cinderella?”

“Alas,” Stepmother says, shaking her head. She ushers the girls ahead of her. “We leave in just an hour.” She clicks her tongue. “Do hurry, won’t you, Cinderella? Of course, if you can’t save the dress, what’s the point? Perhaps you should stay here after all…entirely up to you, dear.”

Anastasia’s snorts and Drizella’s shrieks of laughter echo behind them. They’re off to pack, thrilled by their prank. Stepmother stays in the doorway. Cinderella can feel her looking. Cinderella can’t tear her gaze away from the dress. After a long moment, Stepmother speaks.

“It is not in my nature to be cruel,” Stepmother says. Her heel taps against the stone. “I see we have hurt you. Perhaps you think us unkind for this little mischief, hm?”

Cinderella’s head is bowed. She can’t bring herself to speak.

“Trust me,” Stepmtoher says, “that it is not even a tenth as cruel as it would be to have you come with us. You are beautiful, Cinderella. Does it please you to hear me admit it? I can concede that much at least in light of what you must be feeling. But my daughters have worked hard for this day. They do not deserve the cruelty of having you who have worked for nothing overshadowing their efforts just because you were born beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Cinderella tastes the word like poison on her tongue. “I—I am not—“

“Save me your false humility,” Stepmother says coldly. Her tapping heel stills. “You think yourself clever, but you are just a girl. I see how you lord yourself over my daughters. I have spent years attempting to curtail your excessive pride to no avail. In the end, you’ll see today as a favor to all parties involved. My daughters deserve this opportunity to rise above their station. You? You will have the opportunity see where you really belong.”

There is something interesting happening in Cinderella’s chest. Whereas before her heart beat so slowly it felt as if time flowed backwards, it’s the opposite now. Her heart is beating so fast and so loud that a river rushes through Cinderella at the speed of light.

“Beauty,” Cinderella says. She finally pulls her gaze from the ruined dress to meet Stepmother’s eyes. Stepmother’s mouth thins in displeasure, but Cinderella doesn’t care. “All these years over— over your perception? Your idea of what I am? Who I am?”

“Do not condescend to me,” Stepmother says.

It is not a denial.

Cinderella is a child again, perched on top of her father’s shoulders. The light is golden in her mother’s hair and she reaches for a strand that’s fallen free of her pins—

She is crouched in the garden, watching ants pull at a grounded butterfly’s wings. Sickened, she steps on them, pounds at them with her heels. Her name rings through the air as her mother hurries towards her—

Her father’s back is fading into the light as he leaves her mother in her window. Her mother’s shoulders shake and Cinderella is behind them both, clutching a doll—

She is holding her mother’s hand and it’s so cold. Her eyes are as pale and lifeless as the butterfly’s wings. Cinderella calls for her mother and the silence swallows her whole—

Cinderella is crying in the snow. She is dying or dead. Her legs are frozen, as cold as her mother’s hand, and she can’t tell if she’s even walking still. A bell rings through the trees and, half-mad, she follows it—

She lies in the warm grass of the meadow as the boy talks about stars and constellations and something beautiful unfurls in Cinderella’s chest for the first time in years—

She hopes. There is hope so bitter that it puckers her soul a little more with every letter she writes. She stands at the window and waits for her father or a letter or a sign—

You deserve more, the boy says. You’re strong, Cinderella. You have endured the freezing cold long enough. It is time to find somewhere warm—

When Cinderella is able to rip herself from the memories, Stepmother is gone. The dress is crumpled on the ground and Cinderella’s heart is loud in her ears.

“I,” Cinderella says to the empty room, “am more than beauty.”

Something in her chest cracks. A bone, maybe. A heart.

A dam.

Cinderella, not waiting for night, bursts out of the kitchen door. She lifts her skirts so that she can lengthen her strides and runs. The woods swallow her without preamble, the canopy glowing green in the afternoon light.

Be kind.

She leaps over fallen trees and dodges low branches, not caring as sticks fling up under her heels and leaves whip at her face. Her heart pounds.

Be patient.

How could she have been so blind? They were never going to love her. Stepmother saw only what she wanted to see, a part of Cinderella that is not who she is, something that’s never mattered.

One big loving family.

She poured love like blood into their mouths. She did what her parents taught her and loved with hands so open that her fingers bent backwards. For what? To be boiled down to nothing? To be pretty?

Magic won’t fix anything.

Cinderella, chest heaving, leaps into the clearing. She can feel her hair tangled behind her. Her hands are stained with soot and they leave black fingerprints on her skirts. A cut on her leg oozes. The wind whips at her in alarm. Cinderella doesn’t care.

She approaches the tree. The boy is waiting, still for once. How did he know she’d be there so soon? Why is his presence watching her like that? The rainbows of magic shiver like grass, bending away from her when she stalks through them.

“You promised me magic,” Cinderella says. Somehow she is not out of breath. She presses a hand to the oak tree’s warm bark. Her eyes spark. “Didn’t you?”

“I did,” the boy says.

“Then show me magic,” Cinderella says. “Whatever you want. Whenever you want. Just—keep your promise. Take me away from here.”

“Your wish,” the boy says, “is my command.”

The bark shifts under her fingers and Cinderella falls forward into the tree. She doesn’t have time to scream. Would she even want to? She drops into darkness so warm that her shoulders loosen as she plummets.

Out in the meadow, a single butterfly drifts across the top of the wildflowers.

——-

Thanks for reading! This is turning into a whole novella, but I’m having a blast writing it!

Part three will be posted next Friday (sorry this one was a day late! I’m traveling) and is already up on my Patreon for those who’d like to support me there :)

See you next week!

Patreon (X)

#my writing #short story #cinderella #Cinderella fan fiction

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sailorwritesstuff · 11 months

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It feels like when people talk about polyam!Marauders it's more like they're talking about Wolfstar and prongsfoot. And that leaves Remus and James feeling more like friends who share a boyfriend (and then in most cases you throw an X reader in there)

PLEASE CAN WE TALK MORE ABOUT REMUS AND JAMES?! DO THEY EVEN HAVE A SHIP NAME???

Like... If Remus is the moon.

and sirius is the Stars.

James is their sun. Let Remus tell James how important he is to him.

"you're the sun to my moon."

Let James recite that as a mantra when he's holding Remus after a full moon. "Moon to my sun, our moony, my moony."

"yeah. I know, Bambi."

PLEASE GUYS I'M DYING HERE.

(AND WHILE WE'RE TALKING ABOUT IT WHERE IS LILY?! BITCHES ADD HER TO THE GODDAMN EQUATION!!)

#sailor says something smart #poly marauders #poly marauders x reader #prongsfoot #wolfstar #remus x james #lily Evans #James Potter #Remus lupin #Sirius Black #moonchaser

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lilacevans · 1 year

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'*•.¸♡ 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 ♡¸.•*'

: ̗̀➛ werewolf!ari levinson x human!reader. background: werewolf!curtis everette x reader, werewolf!andy barber x reader, vampire!lloyd hansen x reader, hybrid!nomad steve rogers x reader, vampire!ransom drysdale x reader, werewolf!jake jensen x reader

: ̗̀➛ summary: the new moon triggers some unusual behaviours for ari, and you need to make more than one hard decision.

: ̗̀➛ part of the kills & kisses verse!

: ̗̀➛ word count: 5,110

: ̗̀➛ warnings: mild descriptions of violence, smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, grumpy ari, ari in a rut.

: ̗̀➛ notes: this was supposed to be a blurb completed within a night; it's become whatever the fuck this is. i hope u enjoy it. this is my first proper fic on here. like, well, at least one of this length. pls lemme know what u think!! send me some asks & we'll talk about it. *this is unfinished

: ̗̀➛ playlist: the kills & kisses playlist is here!

In the days before the full moon, Ari usually struggled a little with his moods. This time, however, things seemed much worse. The week before, his mood began to deteriorate, he became tenser and less talkative. He'd tuck himself away more often in his study, finding comfort surrounded by dusty books, rather than in the company of his housemates.

On the first day, you would notice nothing out of the ordinary, just a tightening of his jaw, downturned lips, and heavy, long sighs over trivial things that wouldn't normally bother him. A split cup of coffee, a mess in the living room, shared attention.

Whereas a few days earlier, he would be patient and thoughtful; by the third day, he would become snappy and in some cases downright mean; cruel, even. His harsh words and sudden outbursts made tears flow down your cheeks, and your head hung low before you could hear him apologise and wrap you in a warm hug.

''Goddamn it, Pup!'' Ari suddenly explodes, interrupting your excited and enthralled ramblings over a new book, forcing you to jump out of your skin and clutch the book to your chest, and clam up. ''I'm trying to fucking work. Bother someone else!''

You stared at him, swallowed the lump in your throat, and willed the tears in your eyes to not fall. You took a step back and whispered a small apology before darting out of his study. You told yourself it was just the full moon, repeating it like a mantra in your head as you made your way to your room. As soon as the door closed behind you, you threw the book to the ground and sat by the window as tears began to fall while looking out at the manor grounds.

An hour later, Ari let himself into your room, closing the door behind him with his hands tucked in his pockets and a dejected look on his face. Seeing him stand so sheepishly brought back memories of when you first entered the house before it was your home; reminding you of how scared you were, how you never wanted to be ever again after you found he was safety disguised as danger. No one would ever know what a true, sweet soul he was. His softness was something he reserved for you in spades.

''It's the moon, pup,'' he explained, cutting into the silence, still a tightness to his voice. ''I don't mean to be like this, and I'm overdue for a rut, it's just… Fucking with me. I'm sorry. I know this isn't fair on you.'’

''I know you don't mean it,'' You sniffled as you pulled your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your chin on your knees, peering up at him with wet doe eyes, ''I just wish you didn't have to feel like this. I can't imagine what it's like.''

''You'll find out once you choose what you want to be, either way, you'll be battling mastering control and suppressing gnawing impulses,'' Ari sighed, tightening his lips into a short smile as he made his way over to you. ''And, there ain't no way I'm letting you age past me, pup, so you better get to choosing,'' Ari said with a subdued laugh.

''Still thinking,'' You hummed, eyes falling closed as he leaned down to briefly kiss your forehead. You smiled despite still being stung by his off behaviour. ''Seeing you like this, watching the others struggle with their own things, I'm not sure I want to be either,'' you admitted, sighing as Ari nodded slowly. ''I just don't understand why the others don't get the same way. Yeah, Steve can be a little moody. Andy gets all quiet... Curtis doesn't seem to mind it much, not even Jake, and he's like, a newborn werewolf, but nothing like how you get.''

''Everyone handles it differently, pup. It affects us in different ways. I wish it didn't mess with us at all.''

By day five, getting him to talk to you became impossible. He'd be withdrawn and quiet, and everyone would end up walking on eggshells around him. He'd become more possessive, more handsy, you couldn't move without him following close behind.

Even during the most mundane tasks, he was right beside you.

You'd be making breakfast, and he'd be standing right behind you. His fingers crept under the hem of your shirt and rubbed at the skin of your hips, before smoothing his hands over your belly and nosing at your neck. Soft rumbles vibrated from his chest, wet lips grazed behind your ear. Sometimes, he'd dip his hands down your shorts and dance his fingers along the waistband of your panties.

Every time you attempted to push for a little space, you'd earn a defiant growl in response, and he'd cling harder to you.

''Ari, I can't move,'' you whined, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. Ari nuzzled his nose further into the crook of your neck, a soft growl emitting from deep in his throat, fingers massaging the meat of your waist. ''I need to get to the stove,'' You tried again, but it was no use.

''Let her move, Ari,'' Steve instructed as he strolled into the kitchen, coffee cup in hand. ''We ain't gonna get to eat if you don't let the little lady cook for us.'

Before you even got the chance to laugh, Ari was gone from behind you and snarling in Steve's face. The men were so close, their foreheads were almost touching. Ari's shoulders were back, hands balled into fists, and breathing heavily. Steve had his hands up in defence, a feeble attempt to defuse the situation. You dropped the spatula and knocked the egg mixture to the floor as you rushed over to pull Ari back.

''Hey, none of that,'' You scolded, pulling on his arm. ''Come away from him,'' you said sharply, placing a hand on Ari's shoulder and waving for Steve to back up, which he did slowly and cautiously. You tried to gain Ari's attention, but his eyes stayed locked on Steve until he left the kitchen. The door swung heavily behind him. That's when Ari relaxed and closed his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, his face buried in your neck again.

''What the hell was that?'' You demanded, but got nothing but a grumble in response as Ari ran his hands over your back. You let out a defeated sigh and lifted your arms around his neck. ''You're gonna end up killing someone,'' you murmured, shaking your head when you get nothing but a short growl in response.

You spent the rest of the day putting out fires. Ari had lunged at Curtis, teeth inches from his neck, for simply tucking a stray hair behind your ear. Attempting to pull Ari back from Ransom after he ended up with a bloodied nose for placing a hand on your hip. Stopping Ari from jumping up off the couch from where he has curled himself around you, Lloyd leaned down to kiss your cheek and earned a boot in the rib from the temperamental wolf. Andy was left nursing three broken fingers for daring to squeeze a hand around your waist while you welcomed him home. Jake was left with claw marks down his arm for attempting to cover you with a blanket during movie night.

Each incident was followed up by Ari dragging you close to him and snarling out a threatening, ''mine.'' The only word he had spoken in the past twenty-four hours.

''Yours, Ari,'' You agree, hands stroking the sides of his face, curling your fingers in his hair. ''All yours.'' Not entirely true, but it has to be during this time for the safety of your housemates. ''Let's go, come on,'' you say, and pull him up from the couch, mouthing apologies to everyone before guiding Ari away towards the bedroom.

'What am I going to do with you?'' You sighed as you closed your bedroom door behind you, eyeing the grumpy werewolf as he climbed onto your bed and reached out to you with a grumble. You tilt your head back, your shoulders dropping, letting out a sigh at the lack of response before strolling up to the bed.

''You can't keep fighting everyone, I know the moon is fucking with you, but Jesus Christ, Ari,'' You scolded as you joined him, letting him pull you close to his chest, legs tangling with yours as you listened to his strong heartbeat pound through his chest. ''You're gonna have to stay out of their way, this isn't fair on them,'' You try again, looking up at him and snorting out a little laugh at his knitted eyebrows and sour look. ''It isn't fair on me,'' You stress and reach a hand up to scratch your fingers through his beard.

You spend the next two days hauled up in your bedroom, Ari only letting you leave to make food and grab snacks and drinks. The rest of the time, you were dressed in his t-shirts, wrapped in his hoodies, sat snugly in his boxers, reading a book out loud while Ari massaged your thighs and waist. He kept his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, nose rubbing against the skin behind your ear, placing small kisses and licks.

Having to deal with his protests of letting you shower unless you're using his shampoo and body wash, you need to be there to get his scent right back on you once you've washed it away. While you sat at your desk, he'd sit between your legs, arms snug around your waist with his head in your lap, soft rumbles demanding a kiss, or for you to comb your fingers through his hair and scratch the space behind his ear.

The night before the full moon, Ari was a wreck. Irritated growls, a sheen of sweat on his brows. Suddenly, he couldn't stand the smallest touch, pulling away from you each time you tried to; your fingertips were burning right through his skin.

Pained whines as he clutched his stomach and gripped his thighs, making your heartache and your stomach twist in knots. He refused to eat, unable to even keep water down. He was too hot and cold all at once, causing him to bundle up and strip off within the next second. You pleaded for him to tell you what you could do to make him feel better, but never got a response.

While unable to touch him, he still needed you nearby; shaking his head with a defiant growl every time you suggested talking to the others for a solution. You had never seen any of the wolves go through a new moon like this.

''Ari, there's got to be something I can do. This can't just be the moon. Please let me go and see what they can do.'' You pleaded, hands hovering over his curled-up form, not daring to touch if you caused more pain. ''Ari, please.'' You sigh in defeat as he let out another pained whine, followed by a throaty growl and a shake of his head. ''Just get on the bed, you can't be comfy here,'' You tried once more.

You wiped away a stray tear from your cheek as you got no response from him. You let your legs give out, sitting back on your legs, desperately wanting to reach out and pull him to you, while also damning yourself for not being strong enough to just lift him. You were lost, since meeting Ari, you'd never seen him in such pain before. The occasional grump, or low mood during the moon, sure, but never pain.

That's when it hit you.

''Oh my God,'' You said slowly. You got to your feet and looked down at him. ''You're in a rut, aren't you?''

''Not yet,'' Ari gritted out, baring his teeth, voice strained and coarse.

''Okay, okay,'' You nodded, trying to hide your glee at hearing his voice. ''But, you will be? Right? I can help. I can help you,'

''No,'' Ari growled out roughly, shaking his head as he strained and propped himself against the side of the bed, making you pause and suck in a breath as his face twisted up and a whine escaped his lips. ''I'll hurt you.''

''You won't,'' You tried to sway, kneeling in front of him. ''I'll be okay. Let me help you through it.'

Ari gave another shake of his head, eyebrows pulling together as his head lulled back, whining.

''Where does it hurt?'' You asked, only to be met with a telling glare from the werewolf, making you blush and laugh nervously. ''Oh, I thought- I thought it was your stomach.'

''It radiates,'' Ari explained bluntly, rolling his eyes.

''What about a hot bath, or a shower?'' You suggested. ''Get the sweat off you, might make you feel a little better. Then we can try and get some food in you.'

''It'll only come back,'' Ari brushed off, letting out a huff. ''Please stop making me talk, pup,'' he begged, letting his head drop to his knees as he wrapped his arms tightly around his legs. For such a huge man, you'd never seen him so small.

''Come on, let's get you in the shower,'' You pressed again as you rose to your feet and offered out your hand.

Finally, he placed his hand in yours and allowed you to help him to his feet. Your eyes immediately zero in on the prominent outline of his cock, sucking in a sharp breath, and eyes widening at the sheer size. Ari groaned and tried to cover his crotch, with his hand murmuring out a whined, ''don't look,'' and used his other hand, hooking a finger under your chin to move your head up, making you meet his eyes before he turned away and began to waddle towards the bathroom.

''Too late, I saw it,'' You snorted, rubbing a hand over his back as you kept close. ''Pretty sure that thing classifies as a lethal weapon at this point,'' You joked and laughed as he groaned and shook his head.

The night before the full moon, you faced challenges you didn't know existed when it came to Ari. Usually the perfect gentleman, he had turned into a feral beast. While you managed to usher him into the shower and curl up with the freshly washed werewolf, he still refused to let you help him with his rut.

However, once cuddled in bed, wrapped in the soft, pink cotton sheets, he couldn't stop himself as he rubbed his clothed, rock-solid cock against the back of your thigh while he held you tightly against him. He had his face buried against your shoulder, teeth digging into the skin as he moaned and growled, desperate for release.

You continued to beg him to let you help him, only to be denied by a shake of his head as he continued to rut his hips against you.

''Gonna have to go,'' Ari said breathlessly, but did not attempt to move or still his movements.

''You don't have to,'' you said, attempting to turn back to face him, only to be met with a tight squeeze on your hip telling you to remain still. ''Just let me see, let me help.''

''You are helping,'' Ari grumbled, panting and breathless.

''Then don't go,'' you pleaded. ''Stay with me, and keep doing what you're doing.'' You tried to rock back against his thrusts, but he kept you firmly in place. ''Do what you need to feel better.''

''It's not enough,'' Ari contradicted suddenly, whining and digging his teeth back into your shoulder, making you laugh irritably.

''So, let me help.'' You reached a hand back and placed it over his grip, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. ''Just my hands, nothing else,'' you offered. ''Lemme help, Alpha.''

That seemed to snap whatever resolve Ari had inside him. You were soon shifted onto your back, the large wolf of a man climbing on top of you with lust-filled eyes and hooking a hand under your chin, the pads of his fingers bruising into your cheeks as he crashed his lips against yours. Gone was the pain of fighting off the rut.

The wolf seemingly allowed himself to be completely drowned in the throes of it. The kiss was filthy, teeth and tongue, almost like he was trying to drink down every gasp, whimper, and moan that tried to escape your lips.

He was a man starved, feral, and unrelenting.

You parted your legs and lifted them to encase him and keep him there, fearing clarity would set in and he'd suddenly be gone. Your fingers tangled and pulled his long locks, while his gripped your waist and kept snugly around your throat.

''Ari, please,'' You moaned breathlessly against his assault on your lips and rolled your hips up against him. You whined as you felt his cock firmly rub against your throbbing cunt.

''Alpha,'' Ari corrected, nipping your lower lip and with the grip around your chin and neck. He tilted your head to the side, began to pepper kisses, and licked down the column of your neck. ''Keep rubbing on me, pretty pup. Show your Alpha how much you want his knot.'

The whiplash made your head spin and your heart pound in your chest. Suddenly, the solemn and quiet wolf was talking filth in your ear while you rocked against each other and showed no signs of quietening down or slowing down anytime soon.

Lost for words, you surrender to him, relaxing in his tight grip and moaning loudly into the open space of the bedroom, knowing all the other inhabitants would surely hear you and know exactly what Ari was doing to you.

''Wolf got your tongue, sweet baby? Where's my begging gone? Not gonna be able to hold back, gonna breed this tiny little cunt. 'Gonna fill you up and get you fat with my pups. You want that, little omega? I'm gonna split you apart on my knot, knock all those pretty thoughts out of your head. You sure you want this, honey? You sure you can take it? Can you take me, honey? All of me?'' Ari ranted into your ear, licking the shell of your ear and nipping at your lobe. ''Gonna fucking make you take it, sugar.'

''Please, please,'' You chanted. ''Please, Alpha. I want it, I need you, please.'

Ari detached his hand from your neck and lifted onto his knees just enough to give him the space to freely flip you over. You panted into the pillow as he got to work, literally tearing the clothes from your body, silk pyjamas in tatters on the floor, leaving you in your bra and panties.

Ari quickly rid himself of his clothes before hiking your hips up, making your back arch and face press further into the pillow. You arched your back further as you felt Ari's fingertips rub over your panties, tracing the line of your folds, gasping as his ring finger ghosted over your button. You could feel the wetness pooling over your core, feel yourself throbbing under his touch.

You felt his hands run down your sides, fingers meeting as he slipped down the arch of your back. You moaned in anticipation, feeling his breath on your thighs, before crying out as he began to mouth over your mound, wetting the fabric of your panties even more.

You buried your face in the pillow, wanton moans muffled by the cotton stuffing as Ari hummed a needy growl over your core, sending vibrations that made your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets below you. His fingers massaged your thighs as he continued to tease you over your panties.

''Alpha, please,'' you pleaded, lifting your head to gasp in the air and look back, your view obscured by your hips and his large shoulders. All you could make out was the slight rocking of his hips, rubbing himself against the soft cotton sheets. ''Please,'' you whined.

''Tell me what you want, pup. Tell your Alpha you want him to taste this sweet little cunt,'' Ari replied cockily, heavy-lidded eyes peering from around the back of your thigh while he nipped into the flesh and his hands moved to paw at your ass.

You sucked in a shaky breath. ''Please, Alpha, please taste my cunt. It's all yours. It's yours. Please.''

Ari wasted no time, hooking his fingers under the band of your underwear and snapping the fabric, discarding it off the side of the bed.

Ari crossed his arms over the dip of your back, face pushing between your legs, forcing your back to arch as much as possible. His lips attached over your clit, his tongue rolling with every suction; the rough scratching of his beard mixed with the tight suction of his mouth, the softness and heat of his tongue quickly brought you to the edge.

You tugged on the sheets below you so hard, your pointed nails ripped through the sheet, and your loud cries of pleasure dominated the room, mixing with Ari’s lustful growls. You rocked your hips against his mouth, overwhelmed and overstimulated. A hot flash overtook your body, your thighs tensed, and a warmth spread over your stomach.

Soon shakes overtook your body, your core fluttering as you came on his tongue; chanting his name with desperate moans. Ari held you still as you tried to wriggle away, trying to get a break from the assault of your sensitive button. He wasn’t finished with you yet.

You reached back to try and push his head away, crying out and shaking your head, unable to form any words due to your mind swimming with Ari; everything was Ari. Ari let out a disgruntled grumble, and while his tongue flicked against your clit, he grabbed both of your arms and pinned them behind your back, using the grip on them as purchase to continue keeping you held in place.

Your thighs were shaking at this point, your stomach doing flips, and your body was covered in a sheen of sweat. Ari hummed blissfully, seemingly feeling full as he continued to taste you on his tongue.

The Alpha pulled orgasm after orgasm from your abused cunt, before finally giving you relief for a short moment. That’s when you felt his fingertip prod at your entrance, and they felt the bed dip as your arms were released and Ari rose to his knees.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Ari cooed. If your face wasn’t already flushed red, it certainly was now. “Can’t wait to feel it around my knot,” Ari continued to you as he slipped a finger inside you. The large digit curling in search of your sweet spot. “Feel it cuming around me, so fucking tight, ‘mega, fuck.”

“More, Alpha,” you moaned, thrusting your hips back slightly. “Need your knot so bad.”

“Gotta open you up, pup. Gotta make it fit,” Ari replied, slipping a second finger alongside the first. The sting from the stretch makes you suck in a hissing breath. “Such a tight, little cunt.”

You didn’t know that pain could feel so good. The ache in your back paired with the ones in your thighs mixed with the tingles left from Ari’s beard, and his fingers spreading you open bloomed a need you didn’t know existed.

Ari hooked his fingers in a come hither motion, finally bumping against that special spot inside you, making you cry out and become a boneless mess. Your shoulders sunk into the mattress, face squished against the pillows as you rocked your hips in time with his fingers curling.

Ari growled and reached over your arched body to take a fist full of your hair, forcing your head up from the pillow.

“Stop hiding, little one,” Ari commanded, his fingers pulling sounds you didn’t know you could make from you. “I wanna hear all those pretty moans. Wanna hear how good I’m taking you apart. I want all of it.”

Wanton moans dripped from your parted lips as Ari continued to open you up. Your hole now stretched around three of his large fingers. He was unrelenting in his mission to get you prepped enough for his knot. Ari used the grip on your hair to spear you back on his fingers, your whole body rocking back onto his fingers.

“Alpha, it’s enough, it’s enough,” you moaned, craning your head back to look back at him, hair stuck to his forehead, bicep flexing as he twisted his fingers inside you. “Please, I need it now.”

''Not enough, pup,'' Ari argued. ''Trust me, it's taking every ounce of control inside of me not to tear into this pretty little cunt--'' Ari emphasised his words by scissoring his fingers inside you, making you gasp and hiss from the sting of the stretch. He curled his body over yours and chuckled in your ear before he nipped the shell. ''Gotta have you ready, pup.''

After what seemed like an eternity of fingers curling and twisting, obscene sounds of your slick around Ari's fingers; pornographic moans and dark chuckles, teasing remarks and filthy comments from Ari, he finally pulled his fingers from inside you and pulled a shocked gasp from you as he flipped you onto your back and lifted your legs to your chest. He locked one hand behind your knees, keeping your thighs flush against your chest, while he grasped his length in his other hand and nudged the tip through your folds.

You angled your head, looking around to see him slowly fuck himself through your slit. The head of his cock bumps against your clit, making little moans fall from your lips. Ari was seemingly mesmerised, eyes locked on his cock slipping through your folds, and your delicate fingers rubbing the tip of his cock until he dipped too low and the head caught against your hole, making you both gasp and his hand tighten its hold on your legs.

Ari let his cockhead rest against your hole as he guided your hand away, and readied himself on his knees, letting out a deep breath before giving you a checking glance. From here, you saw the man's sheer size, the wolf looming over to take his prey in any way he saw fit. You gave him a nod, mouth agape, and let your head rest on the pillow, fingers tangling in the sheets, preparing for the breach.

''Holy fuckin' shit, sugar,'' Ari moaned out as the tip of his cock slipped past your hole, your hands ditching the sheets and reaching around to grip Ari's wrists. All you could do was chant his name, whine, and moan as he continued to slowly thrust into you. ''You can take it, omega. You can do it for me, can't you, pup? I know you can, look how well you're taking me, you can do it, pup.''

The stretch, the ache from your core, your legs, your back; the hands that clutched your thighs, the growls and moans from Ari, it was all too much.

Ari parted your legs, slipping through the space to cover your body with his own, elbows planted beside your shoulders as he caressed the sides of your face, wiped sweat-stuck hair from your face, and smoothed his hands over your hair. Your hand stroked his biceps, kneading the flesh as he slowly buried his cock deeper inside you, dropping his head beside yours and moaning long and slow into your ear as he finally bottomed out. Your fingers tangled in his hair, whining his name as you lifted your legs and clenched them tightly around his hips.

''Feel like heaven, pup,'' Ari moaned out, slightly rocking his hips into you, nudging his cock against the sweet spot hidden deep inside you.

''Not yet, not yet,'' You chant, strung out and whining, stuffed to the brim.

''Can't wait much longer,'' Ari growled, fighting against his feral urges. ''Need you, Omega.''

''You have me, Alpha.''

Ari lifted back onto his knees, fingers curling under your knees and holding them firmly as he slowly pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained inside you; pulling delicate moans and needy whines from both of you.

From there, it was only a few short thrusts until Ari became unhinged.

The bed creaked and groaned from the brutal pace of his hips. Pain and pleasure mixed perfectly; intoxicating and addictive, under his sharp teeth and piercing claws, blooming red under his trail. Both of you were reduced to puddles, unable to form any words, completely lost in each other; consumed by need and lust.

''Not gonna last long,'' Ari began to babble, moans and growls mixing with his words as he continued to spear you onto his cock. All you could do was cry out and grip him as he used you for his pleasure. ''Gonna breed you, gonna fill you up, keep you on my knot. Get you full with my pups, my perfect little bitch. My beautiful Omega. My sweet little pup.'' His fingers bruised into your hips, claws nipping the skin. ''So fuckin' good, 'Mega. So good for me, taking it all. You ready for my knot, pup? You gonna take it?''

''Yes, yes, yes,'' You managed to chant, eyes locked on Ari's and arching your back as the wolf pounded into you.

Ari leaned back down, hand cradling under your head, the other cradling your cheek and keeping you close in the crook of his neck. Your heavy breaths coated his skin, while your fingernails left trails of blood down his back, making him rut harder, obscene noises filling the room. You locked your legs again around his waist, while Ari moaned nonsensical filth into your ear. Growls and grunts overtook him as he became desperate to fill you to the brim. His teeth pinched into your neck, locking you down against the mattress as he claimed you.

You could feel his swelling knot catch against your hole, making your nails bite into the flesh of his shoulder. He lifted up onto his hands, heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips; snarls and teeth, and started down, watching himself fuck into you as he crept closer and close to his climax. His hips began to stutter and started to push the knot fully inside you, locking you together.

Your hands find his face and draw his gaze to yours.

''Look at me, Alpha. Look at me. Wanna see you while you fill me.''

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