#snow-dusted forest
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herbalnature · 5 months ago
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A serene chairlift in northern Finland takes a magical ascent, vanishing into a cloud amidst a twilight-hued, snow-dusted forest. It looks like a perfect winter escape to the skies, doesn't it?
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silvaris · 2 years ago
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the Rur near Monschau by Michael Waschkau
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chickenmeow · 11 months ago
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sbnkalny · 7 months ago
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And the leader of the bunch, you know him well he's finally back to kick some tail his Coconut gun can fire in a forest; and with its eyes, then starts "waving" one of its hands} tastes like chicken? don't look for me on bluray, i'm not on bluray! I'm hiding near the speendle~! this laserdisc Is gigantique! I am on the edge of a river
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sooouth · 2 years ago
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y’know.
poor killer and nightmare during the winter.
I’m just imagining, like, nightmare’s goop gets super cold and almost freezes, which i can imagine is a bit of a problem. killer’s eye goop probably freezes to his face, but more keeps coming out no matter what. so it just turns into this mess of frozen liquid on his face.
don’t ask I just randomly got that thought LMAO
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fieldsofacid · 2 years ago
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When you feel like you kin Frisk from Undertale because of a dream you had
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thechembow · 2 years ago
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The Shift Has Happened, Rain & Snow Finally Coming
May 2, 2023
The weather was truly crazy across the continent yesterday. There is an incredible blockage to the jet stream at Colorado, specifically the Denver weather control array, which is the next we’re going to neutralize. The meteorologists called it the “omega block” because of the shape of the jet stream, moving up and down insanely and completely unnaturally. But they still can’t get the weather to do what they want because there is so much disabled weather weaponry now, so rain and snow are coming to California anyway.
One of the weird things that happened yesterday was debilitating DOR near Chicago, which reduced visibility for drivers, causing seven deaths on I-55. The DOR was so thick, 72 vehicles were involved in the pileup. The meteorologists called it a “dust storm,” saying it has been “extremely dry” and farmers are tilling, leading to dust in the air. My precipitation maps for April show consistent rain in Illinois week after week, and the grass off the interstate is green. This is not Abu Dhabi or something. Plus any story that needs a fact check or in this case, an “explainer” is BS. We drove through a dust storm near Salton Sea on our way to gift Phoenix in June of 2021, and there was dust on the cars. There is no dust on the cars in the photos accompanying this story. This is just like the Montana “dust storm” we reported on last summer. It was obviously an OR transmutation in that case.
The unstable weather here as they try to suppress the rain, the unusually warm weather in Denver, and the extreme DOR in Illinois yesterday are all because of the energetic blockage in Colorado. We are gradually moving eastward across the continent and we have been quite vocal about this next operation. Therefore they are aware of our activities and are using the Denver array while they can, with very weird results.
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asthevermincrawls · 2 years ago
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swordgrace · 3 months ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.
⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ cregan stark x fem!targtower!reader.
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SYNOPSIS: a blissful marriage to an honorable man — it is more than you could’ve asked for. with the heir on the way, you make a request of your husband.
anonymous request. unofficial sequel to wolfsblood, dragonsblood.
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{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anonymous.
{ WORD COUNT: 6.1K.
{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), overprotective cregan, reader is pretty horny for cregan (valid), pregnancy, reader is pregnant, sexual activities while pregnant, cregan is a father in his mind, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, cregan loves munching, vaginal fingering, teasing, biting, hair-pulling kink, obvious size difference + size kink, slight face-riding, lots of cregan admiring in this one-shot, very soft ending + aftercare
{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I love writing for Cregan so much, y’all don’t understand the depths of my adoration for him. I churned this out pretty quickly, but I loved writing it, Father Cregan is the best! I hope that you all enjoy, & thank you for your support! ❤️
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𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐩, 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬.
It was easier to breathe, you’d realized — King’s Landing had always been so stifling and pungent, the population too thick, the air acrid. Here, in the North, it was sprawling with open spaces, regions of untouched forest and unsettled countryside.
The bite of the harsh, Northern chill was not an easy adjustment to make after a lengthy life spent in Southern regions — the gnawing wind often seared your extremities, and it was not any easier on Silverwing. Fire ran through your veins, tempered by your tender heart and kindly disposition.
Your beloved husband would not have it any other way.
What had started as an unsteady, tumultuous betrothal marked by obvious bitterness from your family and wariness from his own House, had blossomed into a fruitful union. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner, and it made you realize how fortunate you were.
Snow was uncommon in most of the South, yet it remained constant in the North, mountains blanketed in endless horizons of white. It was a particularly icy day, winter winds stinging your cheeks, prickling your flesh with its pinpricks.
Mounds of pale, grayish fur swaddled your form, lined in the finest fleece, downy and plush against your skin. The trodden path to the Godswood was marked by frozen dirt, dusted over with a fresh layer of snowfall. Sprinkles of crystalline drops fell from the cloudy skies, and your breath emerged in hot wisps of air.
Lilac hues drifted toward the mountainous form of your husband, whose back was turned to you, swathed in the dappled pelt of a direwolf. Ice hung from his shoulder, a massive longsword of Valyrian Steel, an heirloom passed down through generations of House Stark.
Someday soon, it will pass to your firstborn son.
You recalled the night that you were wed, beneath the crimson leaves of the Weirwood Tree. It was serene, a moonlit dusk that struck the snow with an ethereal glow, your hands bound as you recanted your vows. It had been some moons now since that day, and you had only felt joy since then.
Cregan listened to the light crunch of snow beneath your footfalls as they reverberated throughout the Godswood, the pond frozen-over with a layer of ice. Pale bark marked with a foreign face peered back at him — this was a place that he and Rickon visited many times.
Before his little brother had passed, they pretended to fight wars here, forge their weapons, sticks found from the forest floor, and envision themselves as Knights. He could still feel his brother sometimes, his presence a whisper in the blood-red leaves, somewhere within the forest’s song.
Religion was a complicated thing for you. Your mother wielded the Faith of the Seven like a crudely-worn shortsword, letting it strike to her advantage even when it was rusty, at best. You had little interest in it, and Cregan seemed to respect your growing distance from your old roots. The Old Gods were his — you had nothing.
Inklings of snow drifted from the pale skies, growing darker as evening approached. The North became unyieldingly harsh after the sun began to wane, the sting of biting wind swirling around you, seeping into your bones. You were rather cold, but persisted for Cregan.
“Ser Rodrick said that I might find you here,” Silence dissipated, filled with the sound of your voice, as soft as feathers, a soothing balm. You stepped closer, beneath the boughs of the great tree, the canopy thick with vermillion leaves. “How are you faring?”
With Winter approaching, spreading its cold, brittle tendrils across the North, Cregan’s duties had increased tenfold. Preparing his people for winter, ensuring that food was plentiful, that they were safe — it was the burden of leadership, but there was no one better suited for it in your eyes.
“Well enough,” Cregan murmured, storm-colored hues drifting over the Weirwood tree before they turned to you, completely and utterly transfixed. You stole every wisp of air from his lungs with your beauty, clad in the trappings of his people. “I apologize for running off.”
An amiable smile crossed your features as you reached for your husband, slipping a gloved palm against the crook of his arm. “You needn’t apologize, husband. You are owed your solitude, and I wouldn’t dare tell you otherwise.” You have his bicep a gentle squeeze.
Cregan’s gaze softened, sparkling with a warmth reserved only for you, his beloved. Your presence always seemed to melt away his hardened exterior, but he much preferred it that way. He stepped closer, towering above you in all of his indomitable glory, craning down to press a kiss against your brow.
The gloved leather of his hand moved to cup your abdomen, and the growing life within. The joyous news of your pregnancy had been the talk of the North, the new Lady Stark, preparing to birth an heir of Winterfell. Those thick furs you wore obscured your belly quite well.
“I should be asking you how you fare, carrying our child,” Cregan insisted, gingerly caressing around your stomach with the pride of a doting husband. “Here you are, walking all this way to the Godswood, when it is I who should be by your side.” If there was one word to describe Cregan, it was overprotective.
Gods, he was attentive — if he did leave your side, he ensured that you were well looked-after, under the watchful protection of his guardsmen. You couldn’t fault your husband for his safeguarding nature, given that it was to be your firstborn.
Sometimes he forgot that you were a dragon-rider.
“Being beneath the open sky has done me a world of good, husband,” You mused, canting your head to one side. You were not completely round and waddling just yet — halfway through, as the Maester stated. “I cannot stand to look at that dreadful cobblestone for days on-end.”
Cregan did not protest, nor invalidate your claims. He was not the one carrying a child — he did not have a right to speak on behalf of you. A shiver rolled down your spine, due to the bitter chill of the wind, coupled with the encroaching snowfall.
Instead, he reached for your jaw, cupping your face within the roughened texture of his leather-clad palm, presenting you with a kiss. It was kept brief, yet the ardor lingered, as strong as a burning flame. “You are shivering, beloved. Let us return to the Keep.” He rumbled, shielding you beneath his cloak.
A respite from the cold would be welcome. Even if you possessed the blood of the Dragon, you did not fare well in such blisteringly glacial conditions. The thick cover of your husband’s cloak brought a sense of comfort, coupled with the natural heat that radiated from him.
Snow crunched beneath his heavy footfalls, your own masked by his boots. Cregan made sure to guide you every step of the way, hovering with his impressive shadow. “I have been contemplating a name for our child.” You spoke softly, a smile toying upon your lips.
“Have you?” Cregan appeared appeased, a stoic smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t know if we are to have a son or a daughter.” He remarked, letting your hand wrap around the bulk of his forearm, guiding you through the Godswood.
“Perhaps not, but I wanted you to hear,” Such ideas had been stirring around within your mind for weeks, and with Cregan so preoccupied, you hadn’t broached the topic of conversation. “Gilliane, after your mother, should we have a daughter, and … Rickon.” You hesitated. “Should we have a son.”
Cregan’s steps began to slow, and he looked upon you with such love and devotion that it was nearly overwhelming. He couldn’t have loved you anymore if he tried — and he had tried. Towering over you, he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, one that blossomed with fondness.
You gave him the greatest honor of all — that of fatherhood, and now, you had bestowed upon him sentimental names, those of his family. Love flourished within his storm-colored hues, and he seemed to soften at your words. “You would honor me beyond words, wife. Do you not wish to pay tribute to your own family?”
Placing a hand over the growing swell of your stomach, you seemed somewhat indifferent to talk of your family. Helaena and Daeron were the exceptions in this, but it did not pain you any less. “I pay tribute by carrying our child,” You replied, your smile threadbare. “That is enough.”
Solemn, Cregan simply nodded, understanding your strained relationship with the family you had left behind in King’s Landing. From what you told him and from what he discerned, you seemed much happier here, liberated and free of such poisonous clutches. “Of course.” A soft rumble reverberated throughout his chest.
Winterfell’s snow-laden gates were now within reach, as guards in Stark tabards harkened the return of its Lord and Lady. He thoroughly enjoyed watching you interact with the denizens underneath his protection — you often greeted them with smiles and laughter.
He watched you grow into your station as Lady Stark, a growth that showed such promise. You had been shy around Northerners at first, but you now walked as if you had been in Winterfell your whole life. Cregan kept you close, his stance that of a protective husband, hovering above you with his hulking stature.
The Keep was close, and you could feel the crackling warmth of the hearth lick across your skin in the forefront of your mind. Cregan was characteristically stalwart, keeping you wedged against his side, swaddled in the thick furs of the direwolf.
Once inside, you welcomed the gust of warmer air. The Keep burned many fires and braziers when winter became sharp and bitter, your cheeks stinging from the cold. “Shall we retire this evening, or are you lacking in nourishment?” Cregan inquired, knowing that your penchant for foodstuffs had increased while pregnant.
“Could something be brought to our chambers? Perhaps a stew or a broth, that sounds rather warming.” As if on-queue, your stomach lurched with inklings of famish, as if your child also demanded something to eat.
“It will be done,” With his stoic assurance, your husband bent down to press a kiss against your temple, smoothing a palm across your back. “I will join you shortly, wife.” Cregan had a tendency to walk the Keep before retiring — spare a word to the guards, those in the kitchens, and anyone underneath his care.
“Do not keep me waiting for too long.” You mused, lips curving into a warm smile that could melt even the hardiest of ice — including that of your husband. The vulnerability that seemed to come to him in your presence was a comforting thing.
With a soft huff, Cregan cupped your chin, looking upon you with tempestuous hues, as gray as a winter’s storm. “I wouldn’t dare.” He assured, presenting you with a tender kiss. Gods, you had sorely missed his mouth in many ways, and you were swift to reciprocate.
After you had become with-child, fuller and round with the heir to Winterfell, you had not engaged Cregan as much in terms of intimacy. He wanted you to relax, to not have to lift a finger. You missed your husband in more ways than one, giving way to your own basic desires and carnal instincts.
The kiss possessed a charged edge, tension looming above, the fringes of it seeping into your lips. You held onto his forearm, an audible sigh slipping past your mouth when Cregan withdrew. He could detect your yearning — the sentiment was a mutual one, but he feared hurting you, as any man would.
With a gentle hum, you allowed your husband to leave you, watching as his impressive form encapsulated all space within the corridor he walked in. You let him tend to his duties, and you made for the spiraling stairwell, making your way to your chambers without a hitch.
Thick, wooden doors gave way to the sanctuary within, the hearth being stoked and tended-to by one of the servants. “I thought you might want it warm, m’lady.” She mused, having laid out a series of new wardrobes for you across the foot of your bed.
“Thank you, Tanea.” The new gowns and dresses seemed to be made with your new specifications in-mind, accommodating for your growing belly. Part of you felt self-conscious when it came to your pregnancy — you no longer seemed to fit into your own skin.
“You must be excited, with the babe on the way,” Tanea was easy to speak with, an exuberant young woman with cherubic features. “Your Lord-Husband certainly is.” She chimed, finishing with the hearth as she moved about.
“Is he?” Cregan was sometimes difficult to read, countenance permanently etched with that stoic Northern scowl of his, but you knew how happy he was. Knowing that your servants could see it filled you with delight. “I may need your assistance, Tanea.”
“Very much so, m’lady. He speaks as if he is a father already,” She fluttered to your side, assisting you in relinquishing the weight of your fur cloak and overcoat you wore. Tanea arranged the garments back into the large, wooden wardrobe. “Do you need anything else?”
“I do not,” You smiled, moving to sit atop the fur-laden footlocker at the end of your shared bed. “You have my gratitude, Tanea.” The girl curtsied, a proper gesture, before making her way from your chambers.
Intrigued, you happened to admire the new gowns strewn across your bed, many of them styled in the Northern way of dress, save for your evening shifts. One in particular caught your eye, made of sage-hued silk, translucent and frilly, the sleeves billowing.
Pinching the fabric between your fingers, you decided on wearing it to bed, pushing yourself up right as you organized the rest elsewhere, into the space of your wardrobe. Heavy footfalls resonated outside of your door, with it creaking open to give way to Cregan.
Your mountain of a husband carried two bowls of steaming stew, placing them down along the small, rounded table. The intricate carving of a wolf rested along the table’s edge, made of wood from the Wolfswood. “Are you tired?” He inquired, removing Ice from his shoulders, scabbard and all, placing it near his bedside.
After you had become with-child, he kept it close, in case of any unsightly, dire circumstances. He would not ever allow himself to be defenseless in your presence. You had thought it to be somewhat overly cautious, but you did not dissuade him otherwise.
“Not really,” You hummed, reaching for the many pins keeping your braids in-place. You removed them one by one, placing the ruby-studded needles upon your vanity. It felt better to let your hair down, pale tresses cascading across your shoulders in soft waves. “I am perfectly awake.”
Cregan’s visage was one of clear appreciation and adoration as he stepped closer, admiring the way you looked. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He insisted, hands moving to assist you in unlacing your dress. This was a common practice with each passing night — you enjoyed it.
Warmth crept along your features as you stood still, allowing him to untie your bodice with his calloused fingers, until the garment loosened. “You are much too kind, husband.” Stepping from your gown, you were left in a white slip, one that had grown somewhat uncomfortable with its tightness.
“It is not a kindness, but the plain truth.” Cregan replied, pressing a kiss against the pale crown of your head, inhaling a gust of your saccharine scent. “You are my beautiful wife.” He affirmed with a grunt, and moved away to change into his own smallclothes. Abandoning his leather and armor always felt unusual for him.
There was no debating your husband, whose stubbornness was sometimes renowned. Instead, you smiled, abandoning the snug, ivory fabric for your field of sage, hastily pulling it on over the swell of your stomach.
It gave you ample time to observe Cregan, whose musculature ensnared you time and time again. He was impressively thick, broad-shouldered and built like the Wall itself. Seeing him standing there in just his trousers made something hot stir between your legs.
You crept forward, shamelessly wrapping your arms around him from behind, and you could feel a tremor throughout his body when he huffed. “I have a handsome husband, a perfect husband — and that is the plain truth.” You hummed, cold cheek burying itself against the warmth of his skin.
Wordlessly, you peppered soft kisses against his spine, and to any scars and bruises that you could see. You listened to the sharp exhale from your husband, who did not protest your actions. Your lips felt like the kiss of snow, still cold from the chilly outdoors.
Cregan let you stay that way, and in-truth, he enjoyed it thoroughly. Those large, calloused hands placed themselves atop yours, lifting both to his lips as he kissed your knuckles. He let them drop, and you caressed him wherever you could. The gesture was soft, but he couldn’t deny the growing sensuality present between you both.
“For the blood of the dragon, your hands run cold, wife.” Cregan rumbled, soothingly tracing his fingers across your wrist, feeling your physique against his back, including the swell of your belly. You pressed your palms against his abdomen, able to feel the taut, subtle muscle there.
“It is a good thing that I have you to warm them,” The silky, soft resonance of your voice brought him comfort. You sounded so relaxed and blissful, feeling him sluggishly turn around within your hold. Cregan cupped your cheek, rough pad of his thumb tracing across your lips. You kissed his thumb. “Kiss me.”
Cregan’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, and he instead gestured to the meal he’d brought with him. “Once you eat and have proper sustenance, I might indulge you then, beloved.” He mused, noticing the twinge of disappointment on your face.
“Might?” There was an upward inflection within your tone, as if the mere suggestion of might had offended you to some degree. Your burly husband then caged you within his embrace, palms soothingly caressing along your hips. “Must you insist on tormenting me?” You teased.
With a low grunt, Cregan reached for his tunic, eyes twinkling with mirth. “For now.” Tugging on the dark blue linen of his nightshirt, he gestured for you to eat, sitting beside you at the table. His own chair groaned in protest, and before he knew it, you were devouring your stew.
A mouthful of warm, seasoned broth filled your maw, accompanied with hearty chunks of venison and stewed vegetables. The cuisine in the North differed greatly from the South, not that you minded. You often felt more fulfilled after meals than you used to.
“Gods, that was wonderful,” You groaned, the stew satisfying your cravings. It warmed you to the bone, causing a shudder to roll down your spine as you finished, nudging the bowl aside. “I could eat several servings of that.” Your confession prompted Cregan to smirk.
“Famished, were you?” Cregan mused, watching as you moved out of your chair, cradling your stomach with one hand. He very nearly rushed to assist you, but he knew you would’ve swatted him aside.
“Quite, but I am eating for two. Your child needs it as much as I do,” You remarked, wandering toward the hearth as you extended one palm toward the fire. The comforting heat licked across your flesh, the orange light dancing over your features. “Much better.”
Cregan joined you not long after, guiding you to sit atop the large footlocker at the end of your marital bed, closest to the open flames. His rough fingertips glided over the plane of sage-hued silks, as he admired your womanly form through the fabric. “This suits you.” He rumbled, gently tugging on the silk to accentuate his point.
“Tanea had the seamstress craft me new clothing, given that I’ve grown quite a bit,” Admittedly, you felt some insecurity in your current state, afraid that your husband may not enjoy you as he once had. “I am glad that you like it, husband. I was worried that you wouldn’t.”
Perplexed, chestnut brows furrowed together, his countenance one of clear concern. Slipping an arm behind you, he calmly stroked your side, silently beseeching you to tell him of your worries. He knew what it pertained to, even if it was left unspoken. “Your worries are misplaced. I love you.” He assured.
“It isn’t just that, I — I suppose I feared that you wouldn’t still enjoy me this way. Most husbands in the capital seemed so disinterested when their wives began to show.” This wasn’t the South, and Cregan was as far from a disinterested husband as one could get. He kissed your jaw, letting you rest against him.
“You are carrying our child, the heir to Winterfell — I would continue to love you regardless of what your body might look like. Damn the Southerners,” Cregan murmured, planting a hand atop your belly. “I look at you and I see my wife — I see perfection. My heart calls your name.” For a man so rugged and rough, his words made your blood surge with exhilaration.
Joining his hand, you placed your palm atop his, the one firmly perched against your belly. If Cregan were being truthful with himself, he found you to be painfully beautiful like this, swollen with his child, knowing that he put a pup in you. Those lascivious fantasies had now become reality.
“Ñuha dōna zokla,” My sweet wolf — your High Valyrian often brought him to heel, bringing out the siren’s lull within your voice. Cregan had made a valiant effort to learn some of the language for you, but it never sounded as pleasant on his Northern tongue. “I am yours.” You beamed, lilac hues glistening with ardor.
Bringing a calloused palm to your face, he traced the fine plane of your cheekbone, reveling in the velveteen texture of your flesh. A wolf, brought to heel at his dragon’s side. Cregan studied your Valyrian features, basking in your beauty, coaxing you in for a kiss.
Your mouth was disarmingly soft, catching him off-guard, stealing away all of his coherency. He felt you turn inward, palm planting itself against the thick, corded muscle of his thigh, gripping him tightly as he deepened your kiss.
Something warm stirred within him, a longing to feel your body against his, able to detect the hitch within your breath as he drew you closer. Your wanton need radiated from you in thick, permeating waves, enough to bring him into the intricate web of your desire.
“Easy, wife.” Cregan rumbled, wanting to temper your carnality before it raged into that of a dragon’s flame. Your pleading gaze suggested otherwise, prompting him to caress along the length of your spine. “I do not wish to hurt you.”
A begrudging sigh escaped your lips as you incessantly tugged at his tunic, staring at your husband with furrowed brows. “You wouldn’t,” You uttered, tracing your fingers over his heart. “We do not have to commit the entire act. I simply want to enjoy you in other ways — I miss it.”
Subtlety wasn’t your strongest suit, and Cregan knew this. Arousal stirred within him, cock twitching at your lascivious insinuations. “Hm,” A soft growl left him, one that seemed to share your sentiments. “Is that what my lady commands of me?” He murmured, holding you close.
“She does,” You hummed, treating him to a playful smile as you reached for his chestnut tresses. One of your hands slithered beneath his tunic, feeling along the solid, thick muscle of his abdomen. He stroked at your belly, a stern hum reverberating within his throat. “Gods, I need you.” You exhaled.
With your need laid bare, Cregan heeded you with a fire swirling within his gut. His hand dipped down to the apex of your thighs, pushing beneath your silken shift until he found your cunt. Gods, you were wet already, a tantalizing thing, one that he found delight in.
“You are warm already, beloved.” Cregan’s thunderous timbre raked down your spine, effortlessly gaining your subservience with ease. You shivered, feeling his thick fingers deftly caress across your slit, teasing and toying with you, gathering your slick.
Feather-light touches would have to suffice as Cregan lazily pressed one digit against your clit. His mouth found the slender expanse of your neck, delivering hot, passionate kisses against your throat.
A simpering whine tore past your parted lips, one filled with such urgency as you shifted closer, writhing against the sensation of his hand. Any lick of friction would do, consuming your body with its amatory heat. He grunted into the hollow of your throat, kissing you wherever you could.
Your own mouth found the impressive bulk of his shoulder, seeking to bring your teeth into his flesh. A sonorous, rumbling grunt left your husband when you bit him, leaving behind the crescent marks of your teeth. If it weren’t for your pregnancy, he would’ve marked you in this way, too.
Seeking the softness of your mouth, Cregan’s mouth twitched into a threadbare smirk as he kissed you hard, letting it linger as his hand withdrew from your skirts. A groan of disappointment left you, but he intended on making up for it fully.
He moved off of the footlocker, planting a lasting kiss against your brow. Towering over you, Cregan’s shadow eclipsed most flickers of firelight, gray hues swirling with warmth as he bent the knee to you, his beloved. It was a mesmerizing sight, one that you reveled in.
His massive musculature bullied its way between your thighs, warm palms shifting to caress along your legs, from ankle to calf. He had never seen someone as resplendent as you, breathtakingly beautiful, the blood of the dragon, his wife.
Gathering your skirts within your hands, you fisted the silks, dragging them up until they pooled around your hips. Warm lips embraced the crook of your knee, peppering kisses across your leg, until he reached the velvet flesh of your inner thighs.
Your hips began to tilt forward, seeking the pleasant heat of his mouth, a heat that he gladly granted you time and time again. Cregan kissed his way to the slick warmth between your legs, a thunderous exhale escaping him, chest vibrating with a grunt.
Cregan gingerly adjusted your position, letting your legs rest against his broad shoulders, your back sloped against the furs and footboard of your bed. He pressed a kiss against your mound, nose buried near your pelvis before he made his descent.
A warm lap of his tongue dragged itself over your core, like hot embers raking across your cunt. You sighed, blissfully succumbing to wanton desire, reaching for his crown of chestnut tresses, gripping at the back of his skull. “Cregan.” You whined, head rolling forward just a bit.
Pale waves framed your face, countenance contorted into an expression of sheer and utter bliss, brows furrowing together. Your husband happily found his solace between your legs, mouth pressing hot kisses across your cunt. His hand gripped at your haunch, the other trailing against your leg.
It was ambrosial, your taste; a finest stout, sweetest of nectars that stained his lips with your perfection. Cregan lapped at your cunt, dutiful and attentive, ensuring to find every spot that made you gasp for air.
Nimble digits fisted into the furs at your side, mouth agape as a myriad of throaty moans escaped you. Your hand roamed through his tresses, tugging and pulling whenever his tongue graced the pearl of your cunt.
Splitting past your folds, Cregan tasted every inch of you, tongue seeking your cunt with a fervor. He was vigorous in his ministrations, not shying away from consuming every drop of your arousal. His nose brushed against your mound, hands kneading into your thighs to reassure you, let you know that he had you.
Any inkling of roughness had dissipated from him in the wake of your pregnancy, replaced with a passionate devotion, a rapture reserved only for you. His strong hands held you close, caressing you wherever he could.
You tasted sweet upon his tongue, honey-thick and a feast to sate his appetite. If he would choose his fate, it would be in between your legs, listening to the myriad of moans and throaty whimpers leave you. It was satisfying to know how much you enjoyed this; derived pleasure from it.
A tremor gripped your legs, little spasms of delight making their way throughout your body. Cregan’s mouth forged a blazing path from the hood of your cunt to your entrance, tongue greedy and hot, before he went back up again, seeking your sensitive pearl.
“Cregan!” Gods, he brought you such pleasure, a pleasure that seemed to seep into your very bones, sate your endless yearning, for now. Your legs curled inward, tight atop his shoulders as you rocked yourself into his mouth, doing little to suppress the volume of your moans.
He pressed closer with a wolf’s appetite, throat burning with carnal hunger as he continued to lap at your slick cunt. Your arousal felt honey-thick upon his tongue, something reserved only for him, chin glistening with your nectar. Your legs squeezed at his head, and he knew that he pleasured you well.
Molten heat churned within the pit of your stomach, a sensation that you had been longing to feel again. Cregan did not relent, yet he happened to slow just enough to savor you, dragging his tongue toward that clutch of nerves at the hood of your cunt.
As soon as he pursed his lips around your clit, you nearly forgot your own name, thoughts completely derailed, scattered into a blissful abyss. Your body reacted with shivers and tremors, hand gripping at the nape of his neck with a reckless abandon.
Your back arched slightly, collarbone glittering with perspiration through the thick, warm haze of your chambers. The hearth had brought about a feverish heat, coupled with the throes of your intimate entanglement. Cregan derived satisfaction from your pleasure, delighted to please his wife.
Pliant flesh filled his palm as he cupped your derrière, bringing you closer, letting you grind yourself against his mouth, use him and take whatever you needed. A grunt stirred within his chest, reverberating within his throat as he went about seeking your clit, suckling on the pearl of your cunt.
“Oh Gods,” You moaned, nearly clasping a hand over your mouth to hide the salaciousness of your voice. Surely, the servants had heard you by now — you would be fortunate if all of Winterfell didn’t hear you. “I — I’m close!” Rocking forward again, you let out a whimper.
With a strangled whine, you desperately chased after your release, one that you had sorely needed. Cregan’s cock twitched at the sound of your delicious moans, a shudder rolling down his spine whenever you whimpered his name. “That’s it,” He rumbled, hot breath fanning over your core. “Go on.” His encouragement was softly spoken through his Northern timbre.
He wanted to stay there, rooted between your legs, mouth consuming your cunt as if it were his last meal; a man wrought with starvation.
Cregan favored it, thoroughly reveling in the way your body reacted to him, visceral and ecstatic. He gingerly suckled on your clit, feeling your fingers tighten within his chestnut locks, gripping him tight. He wanted you to have your release, built upon this pent-up feeling.
He could feel your encroaching release, feel the tension in your grasp, the way you let your hips continue to lurch forward. Without relenting, Cregan continued to suck at your clit, letting it intermingle with hot laps of his tongue, dutiful and fervent between your legs.
A comfortable silence filled the gap between you, intermingled with the sounds of your pleasured cries and Cregan’s sonorous grunts. That heated coil within your stomach began to unfurl, bringing an onslaught of arousal with it as you bucked into his mouth.
At last, your peak consumed you in a white-hot oblivion, and you very nearly saw the stars themselves. With a strangled gasp, your legs tightened on either side of his head, followed by a blissful rush of liquid heat. Your grip began to slack upon his tresses, chest heaving from exertion.
Cregan lingered there for a few moments more, tongue caressing your cunt, cleaning up any last drop of your nectar. His mouth glistened with it when he did inevitably withdraw, lashing across his lips before he kissed your thighs, showering you in affection.
“Do you feel better?” He mused, kissing the crook of your knee before standing to his feet. You were positively hot, feeling a feverish warmth crawl across your skin, thighs shaking in the aftermath. You hastily adjusted your slip, regarding him with a gracious expression.
“Very much,” Your confession made him smirk as he helped you into bed, abandoning his tunic at the iron-wrought foot. As he settled down, you joined him, curled within the space at his side. “Would you like me to return the favor?”
Cregan never expected you to do anything that you didn’t want to — never feel obligated, either. He would survive without a night of release. “Tomorrow, perhaps.” He murmured, moving to rest a hand against the swell of your stomach, caressing your growing bump.
“Thank you, husband — for everything.” A gentle hum left you as you placed your hand over his, allowing him to protectively cradle your stomach. You let your head rest against his shoulder, his arm holding you at his side.
A bemused huff escaped him as he peered at you with mirthful hues, gray eyes that resembled a thunderstorm. “You needn’t thank me,” He assured, briefly pressing a kiss to your temple. “You needn’t ask for it, either.” Cregan enjoyed the taste of your cunt more than anything else.
You couldn’t help but smile, sheepishly moving to press a kiss against his jaw. “I love you,” You sighed, letting your ardor for him be known as you felt your eyes grow heavy. “Tomorrow, I would like for us to see Silverwing. She grows lonely in my absence.”
Cregan knew how much the creature meant to you. He had met Silverwing before, but he dared not climb upon her back — you’d asked it of him several times before. “Of course, beloved.” He murmured, basking in the heat of the firelight.
A sharp, fluttering sensation blossomed throughout your abdomen, prompting you to gasp. It was sudden and unexpected, but not painful. It was foreign, and had been happening on rare occasions.
“What is it?” Cregan questioned, visibly concerned before you dismissed it with a bright, delighted smile. You gently guided his hand elsewhere atop your stomach, pale brows furrowing together as you searched for the source.
“There,” You mused, joyous laughter escaping you as another kick fluttered against your joined hands. “Do you feel it?” It was heartwarming to watch the happiness glisten within his eyes, the way in which he adjusted his position to truly feel. Cregan’s true smiles were a rarity, and you saw it now.
The blood of the wolf and the dragon stirred within, prompting you to smile appreciatively at your husband. This was something the both of you had made with your love, the heir to Winterfell. “They seem strong,” Cregan remarked, leaning over to plant a kiss against your brow. “Perfect, just like their mother.”
His hand never left your belly, even as he maneuvered the furs over the both of you, letting you move to lay against the warm expanse of his chest. Cregan exhaled, staring into the dying embers of the heart, tracing his digits along the swell of your stomach.
“Strong, just like their father.” You whispered, pressing a kiss against his jaw before you settled down for slumber, shielded by the protective grasp of your Lord-husband.
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writers-potion · 7 months ago
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Could you give any advice for "descriptive" writing of any scene or action scenes or mapping out the scenery (Mountains, forests, streets etc) - i believe this is a struggle for Non-English speaking writers due to lack of vast vocabulary.
Common Scenery Description Tips
Vocabulary is clearly an important part of description, but it doesn’t have to be a limit. The most important thing about description in fiction is picking the right details to mention:
How does the details add to the mood of the story? A mountain ridge will be dark, gray and foggy if the overall mood is meant to be mysterious/brooding. In contrast, a mountain can be brilliantly snow-capped, lush green and “smiling down” upon the character if they’re out for a light stroll.
How are the contrasts/complementary aspects being brought out?
Are you using the five senses? You can even combine the senses, ie. blue ringing of the church bells
(If you have the POV character) what 
Some other tips for setting description:
Use similes and metaphors. Creative figures of speech always get my attention as a reader. 
Mention story-specific elements. For example, “The sky was the shade of Zoes’ eyes” or “the mountains looked like a group of trolls sleeping on one another” 
Be concise. Today’s readers don’t want to read paragraphs and paragraphs about one landscape. Outline the larger elements in the scene, their location and general mood. Add some details, then move on. 
If the same location appears multiple times, differentiate the description little by little as you write, instead of trying to lay out one scene in too much detail at once. 
That said, here are some helpful words/phrases:
Forests/Mountains
Color: bone-white, phantom-white, hazy gray
Sound: rumbling, booming grumbling, bellowing clapping, trundling, growling, thundering
Shape: crinkled, crumpled, knotted, grizzled, rumpled, wrinkled, craggy, jagged, gnarled, rugose  
Action: sky-punching/stabbing/piercing/spearing, heaven-touching/kissing, snow-cloaked/hooded/wreathed/festooned
Sloping sides, sharp/rounded ridges, high point/peak/summit
Majestic, gargantuan humbling, vast, massive, titanic, towering, monumental, mighty, vast, humbling
Mountains having faces, etc. 
Seas
Color: blue-green, crystal-clear crystalline, emerald, frothy, hazy, glistening, pristine, turquoise
Size: boundless, abyssal, fathomless, unconquerable, vast, wondrous
Sound: billowing, blustering, bombastic
Action: boisterous, agitated, angry, biting, breaking, brazen. Churning, bubbling, changing, brooding, calm, convulsing, enticing erratic, fierce, tempestuous, turbulent, undulating
Alluring, blissful, betwitching, breezy, captivating, chaotic, chilly, elemental, disorienting
Deserts
Sight: A landscape of sand, flat, harsh sunlight, cacti, tumbleweeds, dust devils, cracked land, crumbing rock, sandstone, canyons, wind-worn rock formations, tracks, dead grasses, vibrant desert blooms (after rainfall), flash flooding, dry creek
Sounds: Wind (whistling, howling, piping, tearing, weaving, winding, gusting), birds cawing, flapping, squawking, the fluttering shift of feasting birds, screeching eagles, the sound of one’s own steps, heavy silence, baying wild dogs
Smell: Arid air, dust, one’s own sweat and body odor, dry baked earth, carrion
Touch: Torrid heat, sweat, cutting wind, cracked lips, freezing cold (night) hard packed ground, rocks, gritty sand, shivering, swiping away dirt and sweat, pain from split lips and dehydration, numbness in legs, heat/pain from sun stroke, clothes…
Taste: Grit, dust, dry mouth & tongue, warm flat canteen water, copper taste in mouth, bitter taste of insects for eating, stringy wild game (hares, rats) the tough saltiness of hardtack, biscuits or jerky, an insatiable thirst or hunger
Streets
Dusty, fume-filled, foul, sumptuous, broad, bucolic, decayed, mournful, seemingly endless, empty, unpaved, lifeless, dreadfully genteel, muddy, nondescript, residential/retail
Bleach, flimsy, silent, narrow, crooked, furrowed, smoggy, commonplace, tumbledown, treeless, shady
The blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles.
The streets absorbed the emotions in the air, the city as the steady and reassuring mother.
The streets were a marriage of sounds, from bicycle wheels to chattering.
In the refreshing light of early daytime, the streets had the hues of artistic dreamtime, soft yet bold pastels.
Cobbled streets flowed as happy rivers in sunlight.
Parties
Some extra tips for locations like parties, where lots of action is going around practically everywhere:
Focus on the important characters - where they are, who they’re with. 
Provide some overall description of the structure of the party scene (a pool, a two-storey house with yard?), then move on to details. 
Don’t try to describe everything. 
whirlwind of laughter and music, a symphony of joyous chaos.
It was a gathering that shimmered with the glow of twinkling lights and echoed with the rhythm of dancing feet.
The air was alive with excitement, buzzing with conversations and the clink of glasses.
Every corner held a story waiting to unfold, a moment waiting to be captured in memory.
It was a tapestry of colors, a mosaic of faces, each adding their own brushstroke to the vibrant canvas of the night.
Laughter cascaded like a waterfall, infectious and unstoppable, filling the room with warmth.
The night was a carnival of senses, with aromas of delicious food mingling with the melodies that filled the air.
Time seemed to slip away in the whirl of the party, moments blending into each other like colors on a palette.
The energy of the crowd was electric, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, binding everyone in a shared moment of celebration.
It was a celebration of life, where worries faded into the background, and the present moment was all that mattered.
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crushmeeren · 1 month ago
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࿐ part one of my kinktober series! Hoshina’s version can be found here! enjoy little bats!
࿐ master list link ⇢ ⇢ ⇢ ⋆ FEM READER ⋆
⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ knotting, breeding, scent kink, biting/marking, fighting as foreplay, a/b/o dynamics, praise kink, mentions of blood, mentions of reader becoming pregnant.
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┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ You’ve danced around each other since you were kids. It didn’t start as something romantic, no, it only developed into something more when you turned into teenagers. Once you both reached 21, it’s no secret who you’re deliriously hoping will pin you down during your first, and only, mating run.
⇣ ⇣ ༄ ⇣ ⇣ ⇣ ༄ ⇣ ⇣
You were six the first time you heard Katsuki. Yes heard, not met.
You vividly recall how purple and blue chalk had stained your knees. That it had dusted the fraying hem of your jean shorts like snow as you scribbled pictures as fast as your chubby hands would allow. The concrete of your driveway was filled with your imagination when their car pulled into the house across the street.
Your ears had twitched and perked up when a car door slammed shut. But it was the furious shouting and growling of a small boy that captured the entirety of your attention. An answering warning snarl radiated from the woman standing before him and that piqued your interest even further.
You took a break from, what you would call your masterpiece, and tilted your head to the side as you spotted a young blonde boy with gravity defying spiky hair, close to you in age, stomping his foot, baring tiny canines, and pointing furiously at who you assumed was his mother. After all, he did look like the miniature version of her and her face was pinched with the same anger that he displayed.
You studied them curiously as they screamed at each other when a man with the same crazy hair stepped in between them to calm the situation. You startled suddenly, chalk slipping from your fingers when your mom called your name, and causing the blonde’s scowl to turn your direction instead. Unsure of what else to do, you raised your chalk covered hand and waved tentatively, a shy smile curling your lips and showing off your own premature fangs.
His frown rooted even deeper into his expression in response. Your sharp vision had allowed you to watch as his cheeks turned pink and splotchy from the unexpected attention you gave him. You grinned a bit wider and he abruptly raised his tiny hand to flip you off before spinning and storming towards his front door. His mother had choked on her next breath and screeched “Katsuki you little shit! Don’t you have any manners?!”
His rude behavior should’ve offended you, but instead it made you laugh so hard that your little belly started to cramp and your own face burned with delight. Safe to say you were, for lack of a better word, excited to get to know the new wolf that just moved in.
When your parents introduced you later on, you became fast friends. As brash and nasty as his attitude was, you were able to see the kinder side of him on occasion. You also couldn’t deny that he was unfairly entertaining, even on his worst days.
You both shared similar interests, and he was so cool in your eyes that you were more enamored with him than the sticky mud you both used to make pies with after it rained. Not to mention he always smelled of caramel, which you loved. It reminded you of the first bite of freezing vanilla ice cream with warm caramel syrup drizzled on top.
As you got a bit older, you were allowed to start shifting together. As wolves you’d explore the dense forest behind your home every weekend when the moon was high in the sky. You’d wrestle, playfully chasing and hunting rabbits until your paws hurt. Then you’d take a dip in the chilly creek until your fur hung heavy and was soaked through to the bone. They were, without a doubt, the best moments of your young life.
Reaching your teen years, however, was….different. Your parents took great care and time to teach you about your secondary dynamic. About alphas, betas, omegas, how they all related to one another. About heats and ruts and mates. It was overwhelming at first, but it did help you make sense of the rapidly evolving feelings you were harboring for your best friend. Nevertheless, you continued to take on life side by side with Katsuki.
When you were 16, you presented as an omega. Katsuki was an alpha, and truly you couldn’t even be surprised by the news. What you weren’t expecting was just how intense your feelings got for him after that, how much more powerful and attractive his scent had turned. You were aware you were in love with him by that point, but once you both presented Katsuki wouldn’t leave your side for a single second.
And then late one night he snuck into your bedroom through the window and confessed his feelings with a bright, rare blush of embarrassment on his face and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. You’d been together ever since. That was five years ago, give or take.
⇣ ⇣ ⇣
Mating runs are traditional for werewolves in your small home town. Once you reach 21, you’re able to participate in one to officially become part of a mated pair. It could be with someone who you’ve only just met, someone from a long term relationship, or anyone in between.
Four times a year, during a full moon, the mating run takes place. It begins in the clearing at the edge of the forest just outside your town and ends at sunrise or once you’ve been pinned down and knotted by your chosen mate. The omegas take off first, then the alphas shortly after.
The heart pumping thrill of being hunted is what pushes you at a breakneck pace now. The bite of autumn wind whips through your fur, but it’s lost to the heat of adrenaline. You dig your claws into the earth each time your paws make contact to send yourself full throttle even further into the forest. You made sure Katsuki was aware you wouldn’t let him catch you so easily.
Seeing in the dark is an advantage, allowing you to dodge trees and jump over obstacles. The muscles in your hind legs clench and propel you over a decent sized log, which inadvertently lands you in a small creek. You create a decent splash on impact and pause only for a moment to get a much needed drink when a set of thundering paws echoes in the distance.
You huff irritably. You stopped for only few seconds, how the hell has Katsuki caught up to you already? You should’ve known better than to assume you could rest at all. Once more you begin sprinting in the opposite direction of your soon to be mate.
Your pulse skyrockets and a yip of excitement escapes you before you manage to reign it in. Katsuki’s answering excited howl sends a shiver down your spine. Now, you’re able to catch stronger whiffs of singed caramel as he closes in. His scent only tinges burnt when he’s riled up.
You burst through a line of trees, skidding to a halt and kicking up dirt in a small field. You whip around to wait for him, panting harshly to catch your breath. Sure enough, within seconds, a huge sandy colored wolf explodes into the clearing, slowing to a trot and halting about 15 feet away.
Tail wagging vigorously, you press your front half to the forest floor, snarling playfully and snapping your jaws in invitation. You’re ready to fight. Katsuki huffs in a way that mimics amused laughter and answers you with a deep rumble of his own, mirroring your position. You pretend you’re about pounce, but fake him out by twisting and taking off like a shot.
You only cover a pathetic few feet of ground when a bag of bricks hits your side, tackling you into the dirt with no mercy. The air’s knocked from your lungs when you land, and the two of you begin to roll as you try to end up on top. Katsuki snaps his teeth too close to your ear for comfort and you sneak your hind paws underneath to kick violently at his belly.
The push knocks his balance off center and you take advantage of the slight window to slip out from underneath him. Standing, you shake out your fur but then razor blade teeth close on your back leg and yank until you fall to the floor. A startled yelp rings free and you twist to the best of your ability to try and rip a chunk out of Katsuki’s fluffy ear.
Katsuki’s chest rumbles teasingly, dodging your retaliation, and spicy warm caramel floods your nose. Your furious growling tapers off into a whine the more the air fills with his scent. You tug your leg petulantly, but a warning snarl from Katsuki has you sinking into the forest floor in defeat.
Katsuki yips happily and releases you, allowing you to roll over and show him your belly as a sign that he’s caught you and of your trust in him. The ash blonde wolf shifts to hover over you and bends to gently to place his jaws around your throat, applying just enough pressure to spike your heart rate.
With practiced ease and only a minimal amount of pain, you shift until your fur is replaced by bare skin, damp grass tickling your back. Katsuki releases his hold and stares down at you, ruby eyes shining. Your lips curve into a smile and you reach up to pet the soft fur on his head and nose. Your mate licks your hand once, causing you to laugh, before joining you seconds later.
He rests his hands by your head instead of paws and straddles your naked waist. His cock is already partially filled out and resting on your stomach when he smirks down at you, an air of infuriating arrogance surrounding him.
“Thought you were gonna make it difficult for me to catch you,” he teases with a husky tone, leaning down to mouth at the scent gland under your jaw. “You taste so fuckin’ good baby, I’m gonna to eat you alive.”
The noise Katsuki makes stands at the edge of a whine when he drags his tongue over your pulse point, dick twitching with interest. You moan softly, fingers threading through thick golden hair, and you bend your neck to expose even more skin to him.
“Yeah,” you breathe, pride welling up in your chest as your eyes flutter shut. “I knew you’d catch me Katsuki. You’re the strongest alpha after all, and you’re mine.”
Katsuki’s chest vibrates with approval, nipping harshly and sucking a mark into the hollow of your throat. It aches dully and you squeeze your thighs together, a feverish heat starting to consume you wholly.
“Such a pretty girl, sweet fuckin’ omega, all for me yeah?”
“Forever Katsuki,” you confirm. “I’m your omega, your mate until we die. So claim me the way we both want, please.” You tug desperately at his hair until his mouth is a hair’s width away from yours, gaze half lidded and starving.
It takes absolutely nothing else to bring the two of you into a sloppy, heated kiss. Your pussy clenches when one of his hands sneaks down to grab a handful of your tit, squeezing and pinching your nipple.
Your lips part and Katsuki eagerly pushes his warm tongue into your mouth. The rhythmic, slick glide has your lower half weeping for his attention. A molten type of heat burns low in your gut and your inner thighs have gone slippery as your mate works you up to an unbearable degree.
You suck on Katsuki’s tongue and his breath hitches before he releases it as a breathy moan, cock fully swollen and throbbing repeatedly. You squirm under him impatiently, noticing the precum gathering near your bellybutton. You trap the tip of his tongue between your teeth and bite mischievously.
He pulls back to glare halfheartedly at you, and the look on his face is blazing, pupils wildly dilated and cheeks flushed beyond compare. You can tell he wants to devour you and you need it just as badly. He chews his bottom lip, gaze trailing over your tits and flickering back to your face as your own cheeks burst into flames. Your blush is so violent it burns your eyes.
Katsuki starts shifting backwards until he can get between your thighs, brushing his lips down your sternum and sucking briefly on your nipple.
“I’m gonna eat this fuckin’ pussy, okay sweetheart?” He noses at your hip bone, stopping to inhale deeply at the crease of your thigh, groaning as his eyes shut. “Then I’m gonna knot you and you’re not fuckin’ leavin’ until you’re full with my pups, you hear me?” He asks hotly.
Your head tilts to the sky with a whine, something like electricity running through your blood. You fist his hair and pull restlessly. “Jesus Katsuki, stop fucking talking and do it.”
Katsuki laughs, voice full of amusement. “You’re lucky I like when you’re bitchy.”
He doesn’t waste another moment, parting the soft lips of your pussy by dragging his tongue upwards until he can circle your clit a few times. The next lick has you fighting for air, muscles jumping as your skull digs into the surface below. He repeats the action multiple times and then places the flat of his tongue on your swollen clit, shifting his head side to side.
The cry of his name gets stuck in your chest when sucks on your clit for the first time, the rolling wave of pleasure branching from your pelvis outwards. You can’t take much more, the animalistic instinct in the back of your mind making it seem as if you’ll die if you don’t take his knot soon.
You push at his forehead, asking for his attention. “Katsuki, c’mon, knot me already,” you plead to no avail. He pulls away by an inch and grins coyly at you.
“Nah, you’re cummin’ like this because I’m telling you to. Then I’ll knot ya, ya spoiled little princess.”
“At least use your fingers then!”
“Hell no! You’re not cummin’ with anything inside you unless it’s my cock.”
Releasing his hair, you push up to your elbows and pout to help persuade your case, but he doesn’t pay you any mind. Katsuki sinks his nails into your inner thighs and your brain fills with cotton when his tongue returns to play with your clit. His heavy lidded stare makes you shiver and the way he eats you out is so obscene you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut when you cum.
Katsuki lets his tongue spread you open and lazily gather every drop of your orgasm until his spit is all that remains. He raises up to sit on his heels, and the moonlight highlights the way his chin shines because of you. An intense pulse of affection accompanies the thought of how breathtaking your mate really is.
Katsuki smoothes his palms up your thighs, over your belly and trails them up your rib cage before coming back down to squeeze your hips. You shift to sit up and lean in to brush your lips gingerly with his and then Katsuki presses back into it even harder. Demanding fingers grip your jaw and break your kiss. Katsuki peers at you, smirking and rubbing a thumb over your jawline.
“Turn over,” he murmurs, tone smooth like whiskey. A thrill races through you at the command and in the blink of an eye your cheek is squished into the grass, elbows resting by your head, and your ass is high in the air, presenting for him like you’ve wanted to all. damn. night.
The thick, blunt tip of Katsuki’s cock nudges against you, but he doesn’t allow it to catch. You jolt in surprise when he slides over your the rim of your ass instead, toes curling with anticipation.
You whine loudly in protest and Katsuki croons softly to you, relaxing some of your tense muscles. He lets out a deep rumble of approval and places a hand on your tailbone to guide your hips backwards. You’re panting when he finally slides halfway in, moaning in relief from the stretch.
“Katsuki.”
He hums distractedly, holding tight to your hips and rocking his hips shallowly until his cocks fit snug inside, balls pressed against you.
“I love you,” you manage to say, breath catching in your throat when he pulls his hips back and then thrusts back in fluidly.
“I love you, more than anything,” Katsuki promises, tone so sincere you have to shut your eyes in the face of it. He knocks your knees further apart, curling over your back and searches for your hands. His long fingers lace through yours and your spine curves even deeper as he pins you in place.
There’s not much talking after that. You’re too focused on the delicious drag of his cock in and out of your pussy, carving out a space made just for him. He fits inside you perfectly and goosebumps litter your skin each time he makes you remember. Sweat beads swiftly in the valley of your breasts and dirt paints your cheek as you rock with each of Katsuki’s deliberate thrusts.
You scent must be suffocating him because he’s sniffing the back of your neck and whining every other breath. It’s all the same to you because you’re drowning in caramel and the sound of your mate’s hips bouncing frantically off your ass is quite literally the loudest noise surrounding you.
Your gut clenches tight, tight, tight and you’re so close you can’t fucking stand it.
“You’re gonna make me cum! Knot me Katsuki, please!” You manage to untangle one of your hands and reach backwards to push at his stomach, the muscles straining and rolling under your touch.
He moves with you easily and snickers in your ear. Warm breath tickles your nape and your gums start to ache, the omegan urge to tear into his neck and claim him mercilessly grows stronger by the second.
“Yeah? Think your pretty little pussy is ready for my knot sweetheart?” Katsuki huffs between words and then out of nowhere he’s unsticking himself from your back and settling on his calves, cocking slipping free. You’re furious, glaring at him over your shoulder and curling your lip into a snarl.
“What the hell Katsuki!” You whip around to face him fully and shove at his chest. Katsuki rolls his eyes and snags your wrist, yanking you forward so you have to catch yourself on his shoulders. He grabs your waist and forces you to walk on your knees until you’re hovering over his lap.
“I’ve been waitin’ for this fuckin’ moment my entire life. There’s no way in hell I’m knottin’ you without being able to see the sweet expressions you’re gonna make.”
Your eyes widen and your lips part slightly, but before you can answer he’s applying pressure to your hips and helping you sink back down onto his still stiff dick. You moan his name, pressing your sweaty forehead to his and huffing hotly against his mouth.
True to his words, his knot’s begun to swell. It presses against your pussy, begging to pop inside each time you sit down. You ride him roughly, nails sharpening into claws without your permission and breaking the skin on your mates shoulders. Katsuki inhales sharply and howls briefly in excitement.
His canines start to stretch even longer and, with a burst of caramel scent so thick you can taste it, he bullies you down onto his knot. It burns, but the coil that’s been building steadily in your gut breaks then, flooding your limbs with heat.
You all but sob as you cum, claws carving into the base of his skull as he surges forward and sinks his teeth into the mating gland at the junction of your neck and shoulder. Your wail is earsplitting when Katsuki digs those razor like teeth in even harder. His cock throbs, filling you with hot, sticky cum. It rips another orgasm out of you, pussy absolutely choking his knot.
“Katsuki let go!” You’re thrashing, speaking through gritted teeth. “I need to bite you, please!” Your voice is hoarse and wrecked, rising anxiously as you struggle to get free. His scent is so potent it’s making you dizzy.
Your mate groans lowly, finally unhinging his jaw with a heavy purr rattling throughout his chest and tightly grips the base of your neck. Blood trickles down his chin and he shoves your face into his throat, unable to give a single fuck about anything else but being claimed by you.
“Bite me, omega. Make me your mate.”
You moan deliriously, eyes stinging with relief as your teeth cut through his skin like butter and pierce his mating glad, a metallic and overwhelmingly caramel taste floods your mouth.
Katsuki’s cock kicks yet again and he growls hotly, locking his arms around your waist to still your squirming. The muscle in your jaw flexes, allowing your teeth to sink in deeper and his growl abruptly cuts off into a high pitched whimper.
Your mate’s chest heaves from the toll your bite is taking, and you release your jaw unhurriedly to draw it out for as long as he’ll allow. You lick over the wound a few times to help cease the blood flow and Katsuki shivers. Gingerly he shifts your arms up to wrap around his neck and he instructs you to hang on.
He delicately lowers the two of you to the ground, resting on his back so his chest becomes a cushion for your exhausted body while you wait for his knot to go down.
“That’s right, such a good girl. You take my knot so fuckin’ well, you’re incredible. You look stunning with my bite,” Katsuki praises, chest rumbling gently. The soothing sensation of it starts to make you drowsy. He rubs your back lazily as he speaks and you both start to come down from the high.
You purr delightedly, unable to resist teasing him even as your eyes get droopy. Your heart’s complete now. “You look even more gorgeous with my bite, Katsuki.”
He scoffs, pinching your hip playfully, and you purposefully clench around his knot in response. It rips a startled gasp from him and you giggle.
“I have a fuckin’ tease for a mate,” he sulks, letting his head thump onto the dirt floor below. You sound unbearably smug when you reply.
“Yeah well, you better get used to it baby. You’re stuck with me forever now, whether you want to or not.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I wouldn’t want any other omega in the fuckin’ world anyways, idiot.”
About a month later, when you tell Katsuki you’re pregnant, the corners of his eyes crinkle as he grins proudly, saying “told ya you weren’t leaving that clearing until you were knocked up with my pups.”
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silvaris · 2 years ago
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Path III by Juha K
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kwanisms · 14 days ago
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Kinktober 「10:25」 — l.minho
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» stray kids menu | lee know menu | kinktober masterlist «
➮ alien!Minho × fem!Reader wc: 5.4k summary: After Minho’s return to Earth, Y/N has spent the last year traveling the galaxy with her alien boyfriend. While exploring a tropical moon orbiting a massive planet in a binary star system, Y/N accidentally disturbs a cluster of bulbous purple luminescent flowers that release a glowing purple dust that sticks to her clothes and skin. She returns to Minho’s ship hoping that the dust isn’t toxic and will wash off but as she soon finds out, the dust is a very sparkly and very potent aphrodisiac and it has a profound effect on not only her, but on Minho as well. genres/themes/au: fluff, smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.
a/n: *eminem voice* guess who's back, back again. That's right! alien!Minho from Ninsa is back! If you haven't read the first part, you don't have to but you can find it here! This is gonna make y'all soft but only at the beginning. Things are gonna get hairy for our favorite alien-human couple pretty quickly! So glad to be visiting this au again. I love alien!Minho so much )): tomorrow is the final piece for Stray Kids and is also a sequel for Han's part from last year! Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. 
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smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), sex pollen (f receiving, m receiving), breeding, mild dirty talk, biting (f receiving), minor cumflation (f receiving), impregnation kink, use of pet names (hers: baby, sweetheart, love, cute shit like my star, etc.; his: babe, Min, Minmin, etc.), dom!Minho, sub!Reader, slight brat!Reader. I think I got all of them, but let me know if I missed any! kinks: Sex pollen + breeding dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Baby… you need me that badly? ❜❜
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A soft breeze blew through the trees, the leaves rustling and dancing overhead as you hiked through the dense grass. Glancing to the left, you noticed the sky starting to take on a darker hue. You pulled your sleeve back, checking the dial of your watch that read it was getting later in the day.
You should be heading back; you were heading back. It wasn’t entirely your fault that you kept getting distracted by the scenery. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen in any science fiction movie or show. The lush forest of the alien moon, orbiting a massive desert planet, wasn’t something you could have ever imagined. Minho had said the planet was called Kojar 6, orbiting a large star called Kojar which was part of the Kojar-Faline binary star system. There were 7 planetoids, Kojar 6 being the largest of the pack with two moons.
You had wanted to visit Kojar 6 but Minho had explained that there was nothing on the planet anymore. Nothing but sand being whipped around by the intense winds. Winds that could potentially rip a person to shreds. There were no people, no buildings, no animals on the surface. Only sand.
He promised the moons were much more interesting.
The first moon was an icy wasteland that reminded you of Hoth from the Star Wars series. Minho refused to land there, calling it a frozen and barren wasteland like Kojar 6 only instead of sand, it was ice and snow. That moon was called Ciyebos. The second, the one you were currently visiting, was a tropical world called Zocunia. It was a lush, vibrant jungle world not unlike that of Pandora in the Avatar franchise.
The flora and fauna were both incredibly unique, with very few predators. The few that did exist, you were confident in dealing with should you come across them. Since bringing you along to Ninsa, Minho had been insistent that you learn to defend yourself as he couldn’t always be around to protect you.
Much of the flora was incredibly beautiful, looking like something out of a fantasy world or a science fiction movie. Vibrants blues, purples, greens, and even turquoises, and pinks. Back home, on Earth, the more vibrant something was, the more dangerous it was. On other planets, that rule didn’t always apply.
As you continued to trudge through the knee high thick green grass, something round, bulbous, and bright caught your eye. You froze, turning your head to find nestled at the base of a tree that extended tens of feet towards the sky was a cluster of plants.
You carefully walked over, stepping over exposed roots and boulders. As you reached it, you knelt down, inspecting the plant. You’d long learned not to just touch things after contacting a rash from a flower that looked incredibly pretty and harmless. Minho luckily knew a remedy and was able to get rid of it with relative ease.
You instead raised the camera in your hands, a gift from your alien fiance from his world that he’d given you on your one year anniversary. Your phone could have worked for pictures but the device would only survive space travel for so long whereas this device was much better designed for space travel.
You snapped a few pictures, the shutter clicking as you pressed the button with the flowers in focus.
Looking up from the LCD display screen of the camera, you inspected the flowers with more scrutiny. 
They were glowing, having some sort of bioluminescence that a lot of flora on this moon seemed to exhibit. An evolutionary trait, Minho had explained when you first asked him about it.
“Much of this world’s flora has evolved to glow at night. It’s both a defense mechanism and a hunting tactic. Half of the lunar year, this moon is bathed in darkness, hiding behind Kojar 6. The bioluminescence lets the plants still feed and ward off predators at the same time.”
You loved listening to him as he seemed to be full of knowledge you’d never be able to learn on your own. He’d promised to take you to the libraries on Ninsa when you eventually landed there. Minho had promised that he’d take you to his home world, let you see his life and be part of it.
It took Minho three years to return to Earth and find you after you left Derry and your old life behind. He asked you to travel with him. To leave Earth behind and travel to Ninsa with him. He explained how the three years apart had been hell and he didn’t want to return to his home without you.
The opportunity to travel was one you wanted more than anything so you didn’t need much persuasion and readily agreed to leave behind your life to be with him. To see something far beyond what anyone could ever dream of. It was all you wanted more than anything in the universe.
It wasn’t long after you left Earth that Minho professed his love for you, asking you to spend the rest of your lives together to which you immediately said yes. You had been on an alien planet, enjoying the sunset when he asked you out of the blue. He didn’t have a ring to give you but he promised that the moment you landed on Ninsa, he would get you one.
You tilted your head, looking at the translucent membrane of the bulbous flower, a slight swirling inside, visible only due to the bioluminescence source deep in the center of the plant. As you leaned closer, the light started pulsating and you instantly drew back. “Alright,” you said softly. “Time to go.”
You snapped one more picture before shutting off the camera and pulling at the lens cover to place it back over the lens but no matter how hard you tugged, it wouldn’t come loose from the holder. “Goddamn it,” you grumbled as you tried to pry it off. “What the fu- oh shit!”
Just as you were pulling, it finally came loose but slipped from your grip and fell onto the flowers, bouncing off the bulbous membrane and falling to the ground. You scrambled to pick it up, snapping it onto the lens and looking up with wide eyes as the translucent flower trembled. Before you could draw back, the leaves popped open into a five petal flower, a cloud of sparkling purple dust exploding from the pressure trapped within.
You stumbled backwards sputtering as you waved your hand, trying to diffuse the dust and coughing. ‘Fuck,’ you mentally cursed, looking over your clothes, noticing the glittery dust had settled and as you tried to brush it off, it only seemed to spread more along the gray body suit Minho had given you.
You looked around and sighed before getting to your feet slowly. “Guess I’m gonna need to shower,” you whispered to yourself and started the walk back to camp where the ship was. You could use the outdoor shower Minho had set up for the two of you and hopefully he could grab you a spare suit from the ship.
You used your clean hand to rub your nose, a tickle settling in as you headed in the direction of camp, hoping whatever this dust was that it wasn’t toxic.
Minho took a deep breath, keeping his eyes forward as he watched the third bhunqoi hop closer and closer to his trap. He’d managed to capture two already and needed a third for dinner. The small lagomorph-like critter turned its head in his direction and Minho froze, hoping he hadn’t been made but when it took one more hop, falling into his pit trap, he knew success.
He sighed a breath of relief, getting up and pushing the leaves blocking his body from sight off and making his way over to look into the pit. It would seem the animal landed in a way that ensured it did not suffer. Minho hated hunting but sometimes it was a necessary evil for survival.
He collected the animal and moved back to his hiding place, grabbing the cloth bag with the wild fruits and vegetables he’d gathered before heading in the direction of camp. He’d allowed you to go off on your own and explore the perimeter surrounding their camp, making sure the stakes were still standing after the storm the night before.
He knew tropical storms on Zocunia were bad this time of year which is why he chose to pick a spot in the forest instead of on a beach or grassland. The trees provided an extra shelter over the ship, not that the hull really needed it. 
He’d upgraded his ship upon returning to Ninsa after leaving Earth the first time, ensuring that in the event of any more spontaneous crash landings, the hull would still remain intact. 
The Kojar was starting to set, bathing the landscape in an orange-ish golden glow, shadows becoming elongated and more pronounced as he finally reached the ship. His foraging hadn’t taken him far from camp, and hunting had brought him closer as he tried to stay within the perimeter.
Minho reached your base camp relatively quickly and immediately started a fire and prepared the meat for roasting while wondering where you could have gotten to that you would still be gone from camp. He tried not to fear the worst, knowing he prepared you for time on your own but he couldn’t help it. This was an alien planet and while most of the animals were docile, he really didn’t want another incident like the alien wolf encounter.
You had spent a couple days on a beautiful alien planet with him where he couldn’t hold himself back and asked you to marry him when you both returned to his home world. It had been spontaneous and spur of the moment but he meant every word when he said he never wanted to be without you again. 
He wanted to start a life with you on Ninsa, get married, buy a house, all the domestic things his friends were starting to do. He wanted all of that with you. Children was another topic you would have to have at some point because while he knew you were biologically compatible, there were other ways of having children. Other ways of starting a family.
As he set up the bhunqoi to roast in the flames, he sat in one of the chairs he’d set up and waited for you to return while he peeled and prepared the fruits he’d managed to forage. He was sure the conversation would happen sooner or later and when it did, things would be much clearer on where you both stood.
You were getting closer to camp as you walked, noticing the small signs you set up for yourself as you trudged through the forest. “When did it get so hot?” you whispered, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead. As you walked, your body started to feel hotter and hotter. Almost like you had a fever.
Maybe it was the dust you’d come into contact with but you couldn’t be certain. Minho would know more. You just needed to get back to camp. ‘Almost there…’ 
You stopped briefly to lean against a tree, letting out a pant as your breathing started to increase, your heart rate rising as well. You weren’t sure what was going on and you really hoped whatever was affecting you wasn’t some sort of toxin and that you might be able to sleep it off. 
Reaching up, you unzipped the neck of your bodysuit down to the top of your bust, letting out a sigh of relief as the cool air hit your skin, a thin layer of sweat starting to form. It wasn’t much but it was something. You pushed off the tree, starting your hike up again and hoping to reach the camp before the sun set, despite the very pretty bioluminescence.
Your panties were starting to stick to you and though you hoped it was just the sweat, the heat settling in the pit of your stomach told you otherwise. You couldn’t understand it. You were alone in the middle of a jungle on an alien moon. What could possibly have worked you up so much when Minho was somewhere else entirely.
You tried to push the images of your fiancee from your mind as your body started to burn and ache for his touch. ‘Just to help me feel better. Not because I want to fuck or anything,’ you told yourself. You just wanted the heat to end and your body to settle down. ‘Minho will know what to do.’ 
Minho’s ears picked up on the sound of twigs snapping and looked up, seeing a form moving through the shadow of the canopy, a smile forming as you entered his line of sight, ambling along. His silly, clumsy, little human fiancee. He watched as you finally emerged from the understory, a smirk on his face. “Welcome back,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
His smile fell immediately as you stumbled forward, nearly falling. It was then that he noticed the feverish look on your face. There was no way that was good. “Y/N, sweetheart?” he asked, voice laced with concern as he got up and started to walk over, crossing the distance to catch you as your knees gave out. “M’okay,” you murmured, fingers gripping his biceps as he held you up.
“Like hell you are,” Minho growled as he helped you back over to the ship. “What happened?” he asked, helping you into a chair by the fire. “I-I don’t know,” you breathed heavily, swallowing the lump in your throat. The burning sensation had spread, an ache settling between your thighs, the gusset of your panties was beyond soaked by this point and you knew it wasn’t from sweat.
Minho pressed his palm against your forehead, clicking his tongue as he measured your temperature in the most basic of ways. “You’re burning up,” he noted. “You need to get in the show--” his voice trailed off as he noticed a purplish glittery dust on your clothes. Glancing down, he could see that it had transferred to his hands and clothes. “What is this?” he asked, glancing up and noticing the dust on your cheeks and nose.
“I dropped the camera lens cap into this cluster of flowers,” you panted. “I took pictures of it,” you added, pointing at the camera case. Minho shook his head. “Don’t worry about that right now, my star,” he said softly. “Let’s get you into the shower.”
Minho helped you up, leading you over to the outdoor shower he’d set up and helped you peel out of your suit before heading for the ship’s entrance, taking your suit with him and putting it in the wash. He stripped himself, adding his clothes to the wash as well and changing into some spare clothing.
Once back outside, he returned to the fire, turning the roasted bhunqoi over and sitting back.
He was thankful he’d taken the suit off as he started to grow warm. He sat for a moment, the heat settling in his senses, spreading throughout his body. It was a burning desire unlike anything he’d ever felt before. ‘What is wrong with you, idiot?’ he berated himself. Was it the thought of you being naked in the outdoor shower? It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to being intimate with you. 
Since leaving earth and setting a course for Ninsa, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off you at all. It was nothing new. So why was he so hot right now? His thoughts were interrupted as his eyes fell on the camera case and got up, crossing the distance to grab it and unzipped the pouch, pulling out the camera and pressing the button to turn it on.
The screen lit up, displaying the brand logo before going black, a little window popping up to remind him that the lens cap was still on. Minho ignored it, opening the gallery instead. He scrolled through the photos, a small smile on his face as he saw what you had seen.
He cleared his throat, feeling his pants tighten. ‘What the hell?’ he asked himself as he looked down. He tried to ignore the obvious tent growing in his pants, uncertain of what was causing it. It’s like his body was acting on its own accord. The thought of joining you in the shower crossed his mind and he grimaced. ‘This is hardly the time,’ he told himself as he tried to push the thoughts aside.
He returned his focus to the camera, scrolling through the pictures until he stopped on an image of the flowers you must have been talking about. They weren’t like anything he’d seen before. The bioluminescence was familiar, but the translucent milky membrane and the swirling purple glitter inside were not.
‘Is it some sort of toxin?’ he wondered, zooming in on the picture to inspect it. Minho turned the camera off as he heard the outdoor shower turn off and set the device aside, getting and grabbing the spare clothes he'd grabbed for you and walked over.
You pulled back the curtain, peeking out at him. Your eyes were glossed over, not unlike when he had you spread out underneath him. “I brought you some clean clothes,” he said softly. “And this.” He held up a clean towel. You thanked him, taking the towel and dropping the curtain back in place as you wrapped yourself up.
“Did you bring any shoes?” you asked, pulling back the curtain and looking up at him. Minho nodded, holding out the slides you'd brought with you from home. You thanked him, slipping them on and stepping out of the shower. The cool air felt nice against your burning skin, heat still coursing through your veins and pooling in your belly. 
Minho tore his gaze from the exposed skin of your shoulder, trying to ignore the way the droplets of water rolled down your skin. He handed the clean clothes to you before reaching his hand up to feel your forehead. His hand was warm against your skin as he pressed his palm against your head. “You're still burning up,” he murmured.
He took your free hand in his, raising it to press a tender kiss to the back. “Go inside and lie down. I'll come get you once it's done.” You leaned into him, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “Mm,” you hummed. “Come with me.”
Minho chuckled, taking your face in his hands and raising your head. “I'll burn dinner if I do that,” he said with a grin before leaning in to press his lips to yours. He intended for the kiss to be soft, gentle. What he hadn't expected was your reaction.
You leaned into the kiss, pressing against him and moaning. It made his cock twitch against his pants and he had to force himself to pull back. “It's getting chilly out here,” he murmured, rubbing your arms. “Go inside and get dressed,” he added, gently pushing you in the direction of the door.
You grumbled, almost getting what you wanted before Minho took it away. Begrudgingly, you made your way into the ship, the door shutting behind you. You walked over to the bed, setting down the clothes and slipping off the slides. As you started to unwrap the towel, an idea planted itself into your head.
You'd just have to deal with it yourself.
Minho pulled the roasted bhunqoi from the fire, inspecting it carefully. Pleased with the results, he removed both from the fire and got up, setting them aside as he made his way to the ship. The whole time you'd been inside, he'd tried to calm himself, tried to will away the intrusive thoughts of following you inside and having his way with you. 
He still didn't know what had gotten into him but the longer he tried to ignore the intense burning desire to fuck you, the stronger it got.
The door to the ship opened with a soft hiss, allowing him to step over the threshold. Once he was clear, it shut with the same soft hiss and Minho walked further into the depths of his ship.
“Dinner's ready,” he called, turning the corner. “Are you feeling any--” he trailed off, eyes widening at the sight before him. “Better?”
You were sitting on the bed, towel still wrapped around you as you looked up at him, eyes wide. Your clothes lay forgotten on the floor. It wasn't just that what had made him freeze up. It was the fact that your hand had disappeared between your thighs.
He'd walked in on you in the middle of touching yourself. “What are you doing?” he asked, eyes dipping to your hand that was currently being squeezed between your thighs and back up to your face. Your glossy eyes looked back at him, a pout on your lips.
“M’sorry,” you whined. “I thought I'd be done before you came in. I'm just so hot. I couldn't take it anymore!” Minho felt his pants tighten as his cock strained against them, aching to be buried inside you instead of your fingers. He'd heard you, but his mind went blank as the scent of your arousal hit him, his rainbow irises flashing once before shifting to purple.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered. Your heart jumped into your throat before settling back in its place, hammering against your ribs. “Wh-what?” you asked as he walked over. “Spread your legs,” he repeated, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, eyes dipping down to look at your thighs and then back up.
“Now.”
You did as he said, slowly spreading your thighs. Minho grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your sex and inspecting your fingers coated in your own arousal. You watched as he glanced up at you and back at your hand before taking your fingers in his mouth, groaning at your taste. “You thought you'd just get yourself off in here when I'm right outside?” he growled, dropping your hand and grabbing your hips with both hands.
You let out a gasp as he scooted you closer to his face, your ass barely sitting on the edge of the bed. “Thought you'd keep all this to yourself?” he whispered, licking his lips as he eyed your pussy. “As if I wouldn't eat you out the second you asked me,” he added with a scoff. He leaned in, licking up your sex slowly, eyes shut as gently savored the taste. He groaned, pulling back to look at you.
“Lie back,” he said, bringing a hand up to push against your shoulder, dragging his fingers down to loosen the towel and free your chest. “M'gonna fuck that fever out of you.”
You leaned back, propping yourself on your elbows as Minho lifted your thighs over his shoulders. He buried his face between your thighs, making you cry out, head falling back as he immediately went for your clit. You were already so wet, your cunt clenching around nothing, aching to be filled.
“Min, baby,” you whined, moving one of your hands to comb through his hair. “You know I love it when you use your tongue, but I really need your cock.” Minho groaned, the lewd sounds of him licking and sucking your clit would normally make you shy away but right now, you didn't care. You really just needed to be fucked.
“Minmin,” you cooed, combing through his hair again, fingers knotting in his hair as he flicked his tongue against you. “Please, baby, please give me your cock,” you whimpered, hips moving in tandem with his tongue. He pulled back, looking up at you with those bright purple irises, his lips and chin coated in your arousal. “Aw, baby…” he murmured, fingers skimming up the inside of your thigh. 
“You need me that badly?” he asked. You nodded fervently. “Yes baby,” you breathed. “Please.” Minho couldn’t deny you when you begged so sweetly. He could get used to that. You, lying on your back before him, begging him for his cock.
“You think you can take it so soon?” he asked with a chuckle. You scrambled up, letting the towel fall to the floor as you turned away and bent over, knees spread on the mattress as you all but presented yourself to him. “Yes,” you replied breathlessly. “Want it so bad. Take me.” You could see your boyfriend's eyes gloss over as he was face to face again with your sopping cunt.
“Fine,” he growled, getting to his feet and ripping the shirt off over his head. “No prep, but I don't want to hear you whining about it later,” he added as he hastily unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them along with his underwear down.
His cock sprang free, softly hitting your ass as he grabbed your hips, the tip already leaking. He spat into his hand, coating his length with it before guiding the tip to your hole. Letting out a groan, Minho cursed in Ninsan as he pushed deeper into you, his grip on your hips bruising.
You whined, pushing back on him as sheathing more of his massive cock inside you. The stretch was unlike anything you'd experienced with him before. There was no pain though. Minho stopped and you groaned, finally feeling full. The satisfaction didn't last long though and soon the heat was spreading again.
You needed to be fucked and you needed it now.
“Minmin, please,” you whimpered. “Please fuck me.”
Hearing your soft cries for him spurred Minho on, forcing him to pull back, half of his cock sliding out before he thrust into you, filling your cunt in one motion. He choked back a moan, nails digging into your skin as he hissed and cursed again. “So fucking good,” he moaned, thrusting again, making your body shift forward, even with his tight grip on your hips. “Taking me so well.”
“Minhooo,” you whined as he set a steady pace, pumping in and out with measured thrusts. “Don't hold back,” you gasped, walls clenching around him. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
Minho groaned, head dropping as you squeezed him. His hips stuttered to a halt. “You can't be serious,” he panted. “Angel, I don't wanna hurt you,” he continued. You shook your head, your skin burning and a thin layer of sweat already coating your body.
“God damn it, Minho,” you snapped, looking over your shoulder at him. “Fuck me like you mean it. I want you to fuck me until I can't walk!” Your tone must have flipped a switch in your boyfriend and he let out a growl, one hand moving to your shoulder and forcing your chest down against the mattress.
Without answering you, he started to thrust faster, hips hitting your ass with renewed attention. He'd been holding back, not wanting to injure you but when you snapped at him like that, it made his mind go blank and the only thing he could think about was fucking you.
Well, fucking you and breeding you.
“Oh my god,” you gasped as he leaned over, now both hands on your shoulders as he kept your chest against the bed, ass up and bouncing with each thrust. “Fuck, feels so good,” you moaned. Minho said nothing, grunting in response as your walls gripped him tighter. “Shit, yes. Just like that!” you mewled, feeling the head of his cock bump into the soft spot inside you, making you see stars.
“Hng, right there! Don't stop, baby!”
Minho let out a growl, hips never faltering for a moment. “God, yes, holy shit!” you gasped, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. A rush of euphoria swept through you but Minho wasn't done. He'd slowed down, fucking you through your orgasm but as you came down from your high, he kept going, hips smacking into yours, the sound of skin against skin drowning out his pants.
“Min, baby?” you moaned, sliding your arms under you to push yourself up. “No,” Minho growled. “Not done!” You let out a moan as he pushed you back down. “Breed,” he growled. “Need to breed.” You groaned loudly as he continued to thrust into you quickly.
“Gonna fill you up. Gonna breed you,” he hissed. Your fingers dug into the sheets, moans turning into cries with each harsh thrust. “Breed, breed,” Minho murmured. You felt his cock twitch inside you, letting out a wanton moan as he slammed into you from behind. “Mm fuck!” he cursed. “Breed, breed, breed,” he chanted softly.
Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, the pleasure both overwhelming and incredible. Your thighs trembled as a second orgasm loomed. “Th-that's right,” you groaned, playing into his words. “Breed me, Min, fill me up. Put a baby in me.”
Minho let out an animalistic growl, fingers curling over your shoulders, nails digging into your skin as he somehow thrust even harder and deeper, making you scream into the sheets, your own fingers curling into the linens. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you heard your boyfriend snarl. “M'gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so much.”
“F-fill me up, Minho, please!” you cried out. “Fuck me. Make me your breeding bitch, Minho. Do it!” Your boyfriend let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a growl and a groan, thrusting into you a few times more before you felt the warm gush of his load spilling into you. “F-fuuuck,” you groaned.
You could feel his cock pressing into your cervix as he pumped you full of his cum. At the same time, you felt the base of his cock swell. ‘Well that’s new,’ you thought as you lifted your head. “Whassat?” you mumbled, letting out a groan as your walls stretched around him.
“S'okay,” he mumbled, leaning down to press kisses all over your shoulders. “Have to keep it all in,” he added. You only then processed that he was still pumping you full of cum. “Minmin?” you asked, trying to push yourself up but he quickly and gently pushed you back down. “Shhh,” he whispered. “Just lie still, baby,” he continued. “Have to stay still. Just for a little while.”
You felt your belly slowly start to swell, more cum filling your walls than you'd even experienced before. You felt one of Minho's hands move to your belly, just under your navel where it had swollen slightly. “Have to stay still, yeah?” he whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Stay still and make sure it takes.”
“Make sure what takes, Min?” you asked softly.
You felt him rub your belly soothingly, his cock twitching inside you. “You said breed you,” he reminded you. And your eyes fluttered shut. “Minho,” you sighed. “We aren’t compatible,” you added as a reminder. You felt him press a kiss to your shoulder. “I know,” he murmured.
“But imagine if we were,” he whispered in your ear. “Imagine what cute babies we’d make.”
The idea of a mini hybrid of you and your alien lover made you smile, a soft sigh escaping you as he continued to press tender kisses to your neck and shoulder. Your eyes opened and you turned your head slightly to glance back at him, resolved to play into his fantasy.
“What if it doesn't take?” you asked softly, a slight pout on your lips. Minho reached his hand up, turning your head more so he could kiss you, pressing kisses to your lips quickly. “If it doesn't take,” he muttered in between kisses.
“Then we try again. After all, I'm still hard and have a lot more cum to give you,” he added with a smirk. “Wanna go again?” you asked, clenching around his cock. “Just to be sure it takes?”
Minho chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he slowly pulled back, the swelling at the base of his cock having gone down. He gave you a tentative thrust, ignoring the gush of purplish liquid that spilled out of you and ran down your thighs.
It didn't matter if some spilled out, not when he was about to fill you again and again and again. Even if it wouldn’t take, he could dream, right? After all, he figured out halfway through the first session that what you'd come into contact with was an aphrodisiac and he knew it would be a few more hours before it finally wore off.
He’d better make the most of it.
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rebelfell · 8 months ago
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bells will be ringing
crush!steve harrington x fem!reader x fwb!eddie munson
The annual Harrington Christmas Party is an elegant affair, complete with decorations, fancy food and flowing libations. But when your friend-slash-fuck buddy Eddie tires of you and Steve dancing around your burgeoning feelings for one another…he offers a creative solution.
Part One┃Part Two
18+, MDNI 8k
cw: MMF, allusions to poverty and implied family strife, light alcohol and weed use, kinda mean/crass Eddie, semi-public fingering/oral (f receiving), r’s hair gets pulled once.
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The Harrington’s were white light people.
There wasn’t a single inch of their stately home not adorned in festive finery for their annual Christmas party. It was all silver candlesticks with cream-colored tapers, deep red ribbons tied into bows and hung at perfectly spaced intervals, long garlands of rich greenery draped along the banisters—real as shit and smelling like a goddamn pine forest.
It was a far cry from what you and Eddie knew growing up next door to one another way on the other side of town. For you two, it was scrawny and half-dead trees purchased at a discount as close to Christmas as possible when their vendors were just trying to unload them, covered in a hodgepodge of homemade ornaments and faded multicolored lights, only about half of which worked half the time. When your families could afford a tree, that was.
The Harringtons’ own stood at the far end of the house, glowing bright as a nuclear reactor with seemingly endless strands of bright white lights wound around its branches. It was methodically decorated with matching red, silver and gold baubles, each one hung precisely in place and polished to gleaming perfection. 
Elegant. Proper. Pristine.
The party was already well underway by the time you arrived, Steve nowhere to be found in the sea of people. They all stood together in clumps, exchanging jovial smiles that pushed up rosy cheeks, the women cooing over each other's outfits and jewelry while the men swapped stories about their quarterly earnings. Weaving through the throngs, cater waiters floated past carrying trays loaded with hors d’oeuvres and tall glasses of shimmery, bubbly liquid.
It made you and Eddie glance around, furtive and unsure as you skulked into the foyer. The two of you might as well have been invisible for all the attention anyone paid you.
“See Steve anywhere?” you asked, peering deeper inside the house.
The former stud of Hawkins High had always been easy to spot in the hallways of his former domain, seemingly towering over everyone even after he stopped sporting that gravity-defying bouffant hairstyle. Those days were long gone now, but an occasional glimmer of his old self would still shine through, reminding you of when King Steve reigned supreme.
“Nope, nowhere,” Eddie grumbled. “I told you this was a mistake.”
His warm breath on your ear as he leaned in to whisper in it had your head snapping to the  side. Some of the snow that had just started to fall outside dusted his dark, unruly curls and he still had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, as though he wanted to be ready to turn heel and run at the first opportunity. You’d seen him look more relaxed about to shoplift.
“What do you mean?” 
“Look around, sweetheart. See if you can spot what doesn’t belong.”
It was kind of irritating how right he was. Everyone else in attendance tonight looked perfectly at home in this pretty picture. It was all business partners and their wives, clients who probably made more in a year than you or Eddie would hope to see in your entire lifetime, other miscellaneous friends and fellow members of the Hawkins upper echelon.
To call you fish out of water would be putting it lightly. You were like fish on a space station.
“What were we supposed to do?” you whispered back. “We had to come.”
That was debatable. Steve had invited you, yes, but he also practically tripped over himself to assure you it was totally fine if you couldn’t make it. He’d sat on the edge of Eddie’s sofa running through all his most blatant tells—hands pushing through his hair, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, foot jiggling non-stop—as he told you about the party.
“It’s all my parents' friends, so it might be kind of lame. But I’m allowed to invite people if you guys want to come. It’d be really great to see you.”
He’d worked himself up into such a state, it almost felt cruel to say no. You weren’t sure what it was—something about the earnestness with which he asked, and the way his eyes shone so hopefully when you smiled and told him you thought it sounded like fun.
Eddie’s gruff voice sounded in your ear again.
“Think we’re just here to piss off daddy?”
You followed his eyeline to the living room, gaze promptly drawn to the imposing frame of John Harrington as he reached out to grip the hand of someone important. Or at least someone who seemed to think they were. Even never having seen or met him before, he was easy to pick out as Steve’s father. They had the same square jaw, the same perfectly angled nose and rich, light brown hair. Although, John’s was cut shorter and tamed into a much more manageable style than his son’s long locks that lived in a near-constant state of tousled messiness.
“Steve wouldn’t do that,” you said firmly. “He asked us to come because we’re his friends.”
The words still felt strange to say. It made you wonder, yet again, if it would ever stop feeling so surreal that you now hung out with Steve “The Hair” Harrington on an almost daily basis.
When you were in school together, you never even landed on his radar. Eddie had some notoriety as the town’s supposed demon summoner, but you were just…around. A plain face that blended into the crowd; a background extra with no lines in the scene; wallpaper and set dressing for the popular kids who were living out their exemplary lives.
If this was only a few years prior, he probably would be spending this evening sneaking drinks with Tommy H. and Carol, or parading around with Nancy Wheeler on his arm to show her off to all his dad’s colleagues and brag about her getting into Emerson. Instead, his falling out with all of them and his subsequent fall from his high-school throne had led him here—to an unlikely friendship with The Freak and The Invisible Girl.
Whenever he came over to Eddie’s to smoke, or you three piled into his car to go to the movies or drive the winding back roads that snaked along the edge of town, it almost felt natural. And the more time you spent with him, the harder and harder it became to remember why he’d always seemed so…untouchable.
“So, what should we do?” You wondered aloud as you glanced around again, still hoping Steve might materialize somehow. Behind you, Eddie’s head shook and his shoulders shrugged.
“How should I know? You were the one begging to come tonight.”
“I wasn’t begging.”
“Oh, really?” He scoffed as he leaned in close again, raising the pitch of his voice in an overly breathy imitation of you. “Please, Eddie? Please, can we go to the party? I’ll let you eat me out from the back if you—”
“Stifle,” you hissed, jamming your elbow into his stomach.
He grunted at the sharp jab, but his lips remained curled in a sly smirk. “What’s wrong? Worried your little crush will find out what I’ve been doing to you after he goes home?”
“I don’t care if he knows,” you sniped. It’s almost convincing, but the flash of alarm in your eyes told a different story. Not that it mattered, Eddie didn’t buy it for a second anyway.
“Well, that’s good,” he tutted. “Because he already knows we’ve fucked.”
“Wait, what?” You whirled around fully now. “How?”
“He, ahh…” Eddie fought to contain his grin as he scratched at the short stubble on his cheek. “He saw that picture you let me take.”
Your eyes went wide, both horrified and enraged as you shoved his shoulder—hard. 
“You showed it to him?”
“No, he found it,” Eddie hissed. “We were looking around for some weed I had stashed and he happened to open the drawer it was in.”
Your whole body—your very being—surged with white hot shame. If it wouldn’t have given Eddie so much satisfaction, you might have run straight out of the party right then and there. The thought of Steve seeing you like that…
It was almost unbearable.
The details of you and Eddie’s attachment had always been strictly under wraps. You weren’t exactly keeping it a secret, per se, but most people weren’t super accepting of the idea and you’d learned to play it close to the vest. And with how much time the two of you had started spending with Steve, you didn’t want to risk making him uncomfortable.
It had been going on for ages. Pausing, albeit briefly, if one of you found yourself in a relationship, and picking right back up when said relationship inevitably fizzled or if it tipped into the dangerous territory of getting too serious. He was one of the few people in your life you trusted intrinsically, and it wasn’t like guys were banging down your door as it was.
The picture was a one-time thing—a polaroid you’d let Eddie snap as a belated birthday present because you’d been too busy to find him something real.  You had made him swear upon pain of death it was for his eyes only. And now he’d shown it to the last person on earth you wanted to see it? Oh, you were going to garrotte him with tinsel in his sleep.
Also, Steve wasn’t your crush. He was…a preoccupation. A distraction. A vague interest.
You couldn’t even say for sure when it had begun. All you knew was just last spring, there was a month of Friday evenings where you found yourself back in the Hawkins High parking lot pulled in alongside Steve’s distinctive maroon beemer. He was leaning on the hood, waiting for Hellfire to let out so he could drive home his little horde of nuggets, and you had shown up acting as Eddie’s ride while his van was out of commission.
And that night, for the first time ever, you had a real conversation with Steve Harrington.
A fairly illuminating one, at that.
There was a sweetness to him you never would have guessed was there. And a dorkiness that brought light to his eyes when he did his elaborate handshake with Dustin Henderson, or the way he exalted along with the kids when the group burst through the double doors leading out of the school, whooping and cheering from a successful campaign. It warmed your whole body from the inside out, the feeling only growing stronger the more time you shared.
And now he’d seen your bare tits covered in Eddies cum. Perfect, just perfect.
“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered through gritted teeth. “That’s so humiliating.”
“I don’t know,” Eddie said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I think he kinda liked it.”
“He…he did?”
“I mean, he was staring at it pretty hard. I think he needed some alone time with it.”
You rolled your eyes and gave his shoulder another shove for good measure, muttering a you're disgusting at him under your breath, hoping it would hide the nerves creeping across your face. Unfortunately, it only seemed to add fuel to Eddie’s fire. He leaned in one last time, his voice a gritty rasp in your ear that made shivers run down your spine.
“So you don’t wanna know what he said, then?”
Tension seized your shoulders as you glared at him, jaw clenched, ready to spit back a vicious comment—or maybe just spit—only to stop short at the sound of a familiar voice.
“Hey, guys! I’m so glad you made it!”
Steve was beaming as he came over, his bright hazel eyes shining, the golden flecks in them brought out by the color of his sweater. He drew you into his embrace, his strong arms curling securely around your body and his gourmand scent filling your nose as you breathed him in.
Your hands smoothed over the planes of his back, relishing in the softness of the knit he wore and the solidity of his broad chest pressed against yours. Your pulse quickened, blood pounding in your ears as you did your level best to force what Eddie had just told you out of your head.
“I’m the coat check tonight,” Steve explained, tipping an imaginary cap. “There’s a guest room upstairs we can put them in.”
“I gotta take a leak,” Eddie said, already shrugging off his leather jacket and pushing it into your arms. “Take care of that for me, will you sweetheart?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, but Eddie just grinned back at you with a suggestive bounce of his brows behind his curled bangs. Steve pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and then turned straight back to you as he tilted his head upstairs.
“Shall we?” he asked.
The sounds of the party became distant and muffled as Steve led you upstairs to the designated dumping ground for all the furs and wraps of the numerous guests. It was dark inside, lit only by the moonlight that streamed through the window and the warm glow of the lights strung on the outside of the house that cast across the heap of coats on the bed.
You laid Eddie’s jacket down on a chair in the corner before you began to undo the belt of your own tied around your waist. As the thick, gray poly-blend slid off your shoulders, you shivered at the cool air hitting your heated skin for the first time that night.
When you turned back around, Steve was much closer than you remembered. 
His eyes studied you with a kind of reverence that made your body tingle with excitement in a way you didn’t dare to name. The way he looked at you sometimes…whether it through a haze of pot smoke in Eddie’s trailer, or in the flickering light of a screen at the multiplex, or beneath the harsh amber wash of a single streetlight in an empty parking lot…
It made you wonder.
“You look really nice,” he finally said, his voice as soft as his eyes.
The dress you’d worn was fairly simple, made of maroon velour with a burnout pattern of leaves you thought looked a bit like holly. It was loose and flowy, but had laces in the back you had pulled tight so it cinched in your waist and pushed up your chest, not unlike a corset. The neckline was just low enough to flirt with impropriety and it nicely complimented the length of the pendant that sat in the center of your clavicle.
A dainty (fake) gold snowflake you thought was festive.
“Thanks,” you replied, your voice even softer than his as you folded your arms in front of your stomach. “I hope it’s okay. I don’t have a lot of nice outfits.”
Steve shook his head, captivated eyes still scanning over you. They landed briefly on your legs, the black stockings you’d worn in an attempt to stave off the cold now prickling warm on your skin as if it was his hands running over them instead of just his gaze.
“You always look perfect,” he said.
It’s not just the words that made you falter, but the plainness with which he states them. As if it’s something obvious. As though he thinks it all the time and he just happened to say it this time. It makes your stomach twirl and all at once, you feel like an empty-headed teenager standing at her locker, dizzy from being complimented by the cutest boy in school.
“So, this is quite a spectacle,” you chuckled, glad for the dimness of the room that somewhat hid your reaction to him. “Are there any poinsettias left in Hawkins?”
Steve smirked and took a careful step forward. There was only about a foot of space between you now, if that. “I think if there were, my mom would already have a guy on it,” he said.
Your eyes met his and you shared a soft laugh. “Well, it’s really beautiful,” you sighed. “It must have taken her ages to do all this.”
“Not really,” Steve chuckled. “She has, like, a whole team that comes in and puts it all together.”
“Oh, right. Of course.” Your gaze dropped and you gave a regretful shake of your head. Rich people stuff, you thought a bit bitterly. No wonder that hadn’t occurred to you. “But…you must decorate the tree together, at least. Right?”
“No, they do that too. I’ve, uh…I’ve never actually never decorated a tree for Christmas. I kind of thought that was just something they did in movies.”
He huffed out a laugh, trying to hide the sadness that had started to pollute his smile, and rubbed the back of his head, tugging at the hair there that curled along the nape of his neck.
All you could do was stare.
You thought about that gleaming, twelve-foot behemoth downstairs with its dazzling lights and ornaments all spaced and hung so perfectly. It was stunning—looked like something straight out of a magazine. But now it was tinged with something hollow and unsatisfactory. 
Cold. Fake. Empty.
It was you who stepped closer this time, the muscles in your arm tensing as if fighting against your brain’s instructions to reach out and touch him. He was close enough now you could feel the warmth coming off his body and smell the spice of his cologne and the clove cigarette he must have smoked. Your lips trembled, parted slightly, still searching for what to say.
But words refused to come.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Steve soothed, flashing you that easy and charming smile you’d grown to love and loathe in equal measure. “I just meant, like, Christmas really isn’t a big deal to me. And neither is this party, honestly, but…”
He fell silent as his hand reached out to squeeze your elbow, the soft pad of his thumb rubbing gently across your forearm. You stared mutely at his hand where it rested, already dreading how cold it would feel there when he let go of you. Except he didn’t.
“I’m really happy you’re here, though,” he said.
Steve’s chest rose with a sharp inhale and the tip of his tongue swiped along his bottom lip to wet it. His head tilted towards you, a few stray pieces of hair falling into his eyes that were bright and shiny with the string lights around the window reflecting in them. 
It made your own breath catch, praying you weren’t imagining it as he started to lean in.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
You and Steve flew apart like shrapnel, both of you too wrapped up in the steady draw of your bodies together to notice the heavy thump of Eddie’s footsteps in the hall. Steve’s hand came up automatically to run through his hair, dragging up the bottom of his sweater and flashing the briefest glimpse of torso as his arm lifted. It made your mouth dry as a bone.
“I just realized I forgot about my hostess gift,” Eddie said.
His brow cocked at you and yet another little smirk curved along his lips as he brushed past, nudging you ever so subtly back in Steve’s direction. He then started to rifle through the inside pockets of his leather jacket until he exhumed a plastic bag with a few joints inside.
“Got it!” he chimed, holding it up triumphantly. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”
The little baggie sailed through the air, crinkling when it hit Steve in the center of his chest. 
“Oh! Thanks, man,” he chuckled, fumbling to catch it. “That’s great.”
Turning it over in his hands, he paused, mulling in silence as he stared down at the joints and glanced over his shoulder at the open doorway. From downstairs, you could now hear the faint tinkling of a piano being played and Eddie noticeably winced at the first few warbled notes of an unrecognizable carol being sung by a particularly drunk chorus.
“You know,” Steve said slowly. “We could bail on the party. Take this out to the pool house?”
As soon as he asked, his eyes darted up to meet yours—interrupting your intense study of the side of his face. Round and hopeful, they shone with his earnestness and you felt dizzy all over again. It made your brain scramble, trying to act like you weren’t just consumed by thoughts of what might or might not have been about to happen. You smiled.
“What are we waiting for?”
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Steve left the lights off in the pool house, not wanting to draw too much attention if someone wandered onto the patio for some fresh air. The three of you made your way out in shifts—you with a plate of decadent treats you’d filled from the long table of desserts, Eddie with one loaded with food he’d swiped from the circulating trays, and Steve with a bottle of champagne he’d snuck out of the kitchen while the caterers were distracted.
The satisfying pop of its opening bounced off the walls that were mostly windows, sounding all the more illicit and clandestine in the darkness. The contents of the bottle fizzed as he held it out, offering you the first swig, and you took it with a nimble grasp.
Bubbly liquid splashed on your tongue and the dry, almost acidic, taste of it surely would have impressed someone with a more refined palette. But it made you wrinkle your nose as you squinted to read the French name scrawled in a loopy script on the shield shaped label.
“Gross, right?” Steve chuckled as you handed the bottle back. “But it gets the job done.”
He took a deep swig, head tipping back and giving you a long, long moment to study his neck as the muscles flexed with his swallow. You stared shamelessly, transfixed by the pairs of moles that sat along the line of his strong jaw, head empty of thoughts except how much better thechampagne would taste if you were licking it from his lips.
Eddie coughed, all loud and fake, drawing both of your eyes to him where he sat on a rattan sofa in the center of the room. He stared at you expectantly as he slouched down further in his seat, his knees spread wide and his arms draped across the back. He’d wasted no time making himself more comfortable, loosening the evergreen tie you’d made him wear and rolling up the sleeves of the dress shirt he normally only broke out for funerals or the odd court appearance.
“Don’t I get some of that?” he asked with a wry smirk.
Steve hurried to offer him the champagne, wiping away a little dribble of it that had started to trickle down his chin. You followed behind and slotted into a chair adjacent to Eddie’s as Steve handed off the bottle, making your brain short circuit when you saw the way his wide grasp nearly engulfed the entire bottom. It didn’t restart until he settled in the seat next to you.
After taking his sip, Eddie sparked up one of the joints and started it in a rotation along with the champagne. After only a few pulls from each you started to feel the effects, your head getting all light and floaty, your body warming from the blood pumping through you, your skin buzzing from the way your fingers kept brushing Steve’s whenever you passed him the joint or the bottle. 
Or maybe it was from the way his eyes lingered on yours when you did.
Eventually, you dropped out of the rotation and sank back in your chair to gaze up at the house. The whole thing seemed to glow with the warmth of the party within, its windows bright yellow, the lights twinkling on the eaves. And the snowfall had remained soft and steady, dusting everything with a fine layer of white like powdered sugar.
The picture was immaculate, like a life-size snow globe. If Steve’s mother had somehow managed to pay Mother Nature as a decorator, it wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest.
“Seriously, Harrington,” Eddie snorted, evidently sharing in your bewilderment. “If all this is just the weekend before, I’m scared to ask what your family does for the main event.”
A deep chuckle bubbled out of his chest as he took a long swig of the rapidly draining bottle. He’d said it mostly as a joke, but Steve’s reaction revealed a nerve had been struck. He began to cough, sputtering out his words as he pulled the smoldering joint from between his lips.
“Oh no, it’s not—they aren’t, uh…they won’t be here.”
His eyes darted to the floor as he shook his head and stammered out his non-answer, wearing that same look on his face you’d seen in the guest room. Half-sad and trying to hide it.
“What do you mean?” Eddie asked. Steve just shrugged.
“They always go away for Christmas. I think it’s St. Barts this year. Maybe Turks and Caicos? Their flight is sometime tomorrow night.”
“Wait, so…they just leave you here?” you asked. “By yourself?”
Steve shrugged and shook his head again, the move almost reflexive, like flinching away from the sting of alcohol cleaning a fresh wound. “A nanny would stay with me when I was little. But from the time I was old enough…yeah, pretty much.”
You and Eddie’s eyes met, the same unthinkable thought seemingly crossing your minds. You actually felt bad—not just bad, but sad—for Steve Harrington. 
“It’s not so bad, seriously,” he said, all flustered trying to salvage the mood. “I just hang out and watch movies and eat pizza. It’s fun. Honest.”
Despite his attempts, you can’t help but frown as you think what Steve’s Christmas will look like. His big house that was bursting at the seams with people right now being cold and desolate; him sitting all alone at a long dining room table eating leftover appetizers for every meal.
The thought tugged at something buried deep inside you. Something you’d packed away long ago and shoved into the furthest recesses of your mind. A box wrapped and taped and stapled and tied shut and then shoved behind a closet door. It made you turn to look at Eddie and he nodded knowingly, needing no words to know what you wanted him to say.
“You should come over,” he said, speaking so suddenly it came out loud in the tense quiet.
Steve’s head lifted. “What?”
“To me and Wayne’s,” Eddie supplied. “For Christmas Eve. We have dinner together and watch old movies and play games and shit. With this one.”
He jerked his thumb at you and you smiled as Steve’s eyes flitted over to meet your gaze.
“Only because they can’t cook to save their lives,” you said, shooting him a wink that made the corners of his mouth curl upwards.
“It’s not gonna be like this,” Eddie assured. “But it’s something, you know?”
“That, um…” Steve looked down at his lap, his long lashes fluttering as he tried to blink back the beginnings of tears. “That sounds really nice.”
Your hand moved without permission, reaching out to close around his wrist and squeeze. Steve’s head turned, staring at it like he thought he was dreaming. And as your brain suddenly caught up with the action and your body flooded with embarrassment, you started to pull it back only to feel the warmth of his palm covering your hand to hold it in place.
The only sound in the room was yours and Steve’s soft breathing and you swore you could feel the way both of your pulses were racing in time. His eyes lifted to meet yours and you became entranced all over again by his handsome face, the freckles that dotted his tanned skin, hazel eyes that shimmered as he scanned your expression, the deepness of his cupid's bow.
“I, um…I should check in with my mom real quick. You guys, uh…sit tight.”
Steve sputtered out his words as he rose to his feet, leaving your skin cold as he pulled his hands from yours. He looked around, his eyes searching to land on anything besides you or Eddie as he turned and stumbled towards the door. Eddie watched you watch Steve leave, an expression on his face as bemused as it was mocking.
“Jesus Christ, you two are exhausting.”
He shook his head, laughing to himself as he stuffed the last of the appetizers in his mouth. You glared back at him as he chewed and tried not to think about how your hand still burned where the ghost of Steve’s warmth remained.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on. If I knew I was gonna have to watch you make googly-eyes at each other all night, I could have stayed home. I get enough of that as it is.”
“We’re not—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Eddie scoffed. “You are. He is. Just make a move, already.”
It was actually painful rolling your eyes as hard as you did. “Right. Sure. And what kind of move am I supposed to make? Considering how he ran out of here just because I touched his arm?”
“You’re not serious, are you? You’re pulling my dick, right?”
Eddie hunched forward as you deadpanned him, answering with a slow blink of your eyes and humorless expression until he threw his head back in a loud laugh.
“He had a fucking boner, smartass!” he cackled.
It’s not only your cheeks that warm now, but your whole body igniting like a bonfire. The feeling grips your shoulders, it’s talons digging into your flesh, threatening to pierce it to the bone.
“Bullshit,” you whispered, your mind reeling.
“You think I don’t know Steve well enough to know when he goes from six to midnight? It happens literally any time you touch him.”
Eddie was still snickering to himself as he took a final puff of the joint that had been smoked down to a nub. You stared at your hands in your lap, thoughts going into overdrive. Because this wasn’t just some random guy at the Hideout or an ex-classmate hitting on you at a house party. This wouldn’t be just a fumbled touch, grabby hands groping blindly in a dark closet that you would recount to Eddie before he gave you the orgasm you’d sorely been denied.
This was Steve. This would be something. Wouldn’t it?
“Only one way to find out,” Eddie said, as though he could hear the question you were asking yourself. “Anything’s gotta be better than this.”
“But what if he—”
The rattle of the doorknob cut you off, your eyes darted to the door just as Steve pushed it open to slip back inside. Eddie’s dark curls fell forward, sliding off his shoulders as he leaned in.
“Just follow my lead,” he whispered.
Your eyes bulged in your skull, but before you could retort or argue, Steve had plopped back down in the chair next to you and your lips were effectively sealed.
“So the singing is still going on,” he chuckled. “But I think everyone will head home soon. We aren’t missing much.”
“That’s okay.” Eddie groaned softly into a stretch as he settled back into his reclined position. “I’m sure we can think of something to do.”
Heat flooded your core at his insinuating tone and you sat up a little straighter. He let his head loll to the side, his eyes finding yours automatically, dark irises glinting in the scant light.
“Hey…c’mere, doll.”
Eddie shifted down in his seat, rubbing his ringed hand across his thigh as an invitation. Maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was the fancy, and surely expensive, champagne you’d been sipping all night. Maybe it was the way Steve’s gaze followed you so intently as you stood and walked over to where Eddie sat on the wicker sofa. Whatever it was, it was working.
You laid your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you kneeled on the cushion next to him and went to straddle his lap. But his hands came up to grip your waist and stopped you.
“Uh-uh,” he said, motioning his index finger in a circle. “Other way.”
You hesitated, glancing from your crouched position over at Steve. His eyes smoldered in the darkness as he watched you—leaning forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees, his long fingers laced in front of him. With a hard swallow, you stood and turned.
Eddie jerked you back against him, roughly pulling you flush with his chest. His knees pushed between your own and he spread them wide so your legs were held open, draped over the tops of his thighs. It made the skirt of your dress glide upwards, hem skimming the tops of your stockings, threatening to reveal the strips of bare skin between them and your panties.
His words from earlier still rang in your head. Follow my lead.
Well-worn hands splayed wide across your stomach, squeezing at the softness of your waist. Beneath you, his hips began to shift and the beginnings of his hard-on pressed insistently into the fat of your ass. It made you shiver all over, a gasp falling from your lips.
“So well behaved,” Eddie hummed, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips, suddenly gripping your chin in his hand to turn your face towards him. “She’s such a good girl, Stevie…. and we have so much fun together…”
The words and the deep timbre of his voice sent more shivers down your spine as he bumped the tip of your nose with his own. He pecked lightly at your lips until they opened up for him, his tongue probing the warm cavern of your mouth until you were moaning into his kiss.
It was lazy, but punishing. He nipped gently at your top lip, his own feathering with a tiny snarl as he revered back to his conversation with Steve.
“Why don’t you tell her about that photo you found?” he asked, hot breath fanning across your cheek. “Tell her what you thought about it.”
Your gaze flashed to Steve’s and you wondered if there was more light in here whether you’d be able to see a rush of scarlet covering his cheeks. His eyes had gone round with nervous energy, but they remained locked onto yours as he spoke.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he rasped, his voice almost cracking his throat was so tight. “I wish I could see it again, I…I wish it was me she’d done that for.”
The pit of your belly burned at his words, a breathy sigh fluttering in your chest and an exquisite ache now radiating between your legs. Eddie’s fingers trailed along the center of your body, over your sternum, tracing the dip of your navel through your dress until it quivered under his touch.
Slowly, he drew up the bottom of your dress like a curtain to reveal your core and the black lace your arousal had begun to seep through. The tips of his fingers stroked your entrance, mercilessly teasing your second set of lips.
“You wouldn’t believe how good she feels, Steve,” Eddie husked, his fingers holding their pace, making you grind into his lap. “Way better than that prissy cheerleader pussy you’re used to.”
The room filled with the sound of your breath and the wet schlick of Eddie’s fingers in your folds.
“Oh, sorry,” Eddie snickered. “I should say honor society pussy.”
Steve’s nostrils suddenly flared, his gaze tearing away from you and your body as if coming out of a trance. You looked back over your shoulder with a horrified look.
“Eddie—”
“Shush,” he snapped, cutting you off by plunging his fingers inside of you. They hooked upwards and your back bowed at the sudden stretch, a broken moan slipping past your lips. Steve’s eyes were drawn to your face at the sound, Eddie’s mention of his ex flying right out of his head.
“You want a taste, Harrington?” he asked, all dark and leading.
A little whimper escaped you at the thought and Eddie grinned wickedly. He smiled as he kissed the back of your neck, his teeth flashing as he nipped at your racing pulse.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? You’d like his tongue?”
“Y-yes,” you gasped, your eyes darting to find Steve’s. “Please.”
At your plaintive mewl, the very moment you asked, Steve instantly rose to his feet and hurried to kneel between yours and Eddie’s spread legs. His long fingers wrapped around the gusset of your underwear and he wrenched them to the side to reveal your dripping core.
He licked his lips as he stared at it, practically salivating. Your own lips trembled, fighting back the urge to cry out for him as you let your head fall back to rest on Eddie’s shoulder.
The wet heat of his tongue met your pussy in long, languid swipes. He nodded his head with each motion, dragging it through your folds as he inhaled deep and needy breaths of your scent like you were his air. His eyes burned with lust as he looked up from between your thighs, gauging your every reaction in the way you fluttered around his tongue.
With a trembling hand, you reached out and brushed your fingertips along his brow, skimming the stray pieces of hair that had fallen forward into his eyes. The intensity of his stare, the depth of his gaze, made you glow brighter even than that behemoth of a tree inside.
He sped up his movements, working you up, the tip of his tongue pointed to swirl in a pattern as magical as it was maddening, flicking it teasingly over your clit and making you clench with each too-quick pass. At the same time, you felt Eddie’s hand creep up between your shoulder blades, fingers weaving into your hair to grasp it at the root. He gave it a firm tug and pulled your head back, bringing his lips to your ear so he could whisper to you—deep and rough and just loud enough for Steve to hear.
“Why don’t you tell him how long you’ve wanted this, huh?”
Another pitiful whimper left your lips as Eddie’s other hand squeezed a little more intensely at your chest, tweaking your nipple through your dress, loving how it made you tremble.
“Si-since Junior year,” you panted. “When he w-won the state swim meet…”
Just the thought of that day nearly has you flooding Eddie’s lap and Steve’s mouth. Your mind filled with the memories of it—visions of him in a Speedo that confirmed just about every rumor you’d ever overheard in the girl’s locker room; his arm and back muscles rippling as he pushed himself out of the pool; water spilling over freckled skin, droplets collecting on his shoulders and running down, down, down to where the small of his back met the fullness of his ass.
You had sat in the stands, thighs pressing together, feeling almost perverted staring while he celebrated with his teammates and whipped off his swim cap, his wild hair exploding out of it and making you wonder how he’d even managed to fit it all underneath in the first place.
The mere mention of his glory days seemed to have a similar effect on Steve. The movements of his tongue and lips turned more fervent, more determined to unspool you as he moaned like he’d never tasted anything as good as you.
Tremors began to roll through your body, making your thighs twitch and spasm.
“Tell him how good it feels,” Eddie husked, hips now punching up to create some friction against his own cock as it strained inside his dress pants. “Tell him how much you like it.”
“Yes, Steve, fuck—I love it so much,” you whined. “Keep going, I need it.”
The pretty lilt and waver of your voice had Steve unraveling before your very eyes. Another low groan rumbled from deep in his chest and he buried his face further, more eagerly, in your heat.
“God, you taste so fucking good, honey,” he moaned. “I could do this all night.”
The thought of having his mouth on you all night is enthralling, but there was no way you would last. You were barely going to make it another minute as it was. Steve was too good. 
Every flick, every swipe, every swirl of his tongue you could feel in your entire body. Pleasure rushed across you in waves, a torturous winding upwards, that burning feeling deep in your gut coiling tighter, tighter. Your breaths grew shallow and your pulse raced until you were shaking in Eddie’s lap, fighting so hard to keep your legs spread apart that they shook from the effort.
Steve’s hands came up to grasp at your thighs, his fingers squeezing at the meat of them as he kept you pried open for him to ravish. Like a man possessed, he lapped and sucked and kissed at your entrance, his whole body seeming to move along with the motions of his tongue and lips. Beneath you, the wicker couch suddenly slid backwards and you realized it was because he had tried to grind against it—desperate to feel something, anything, against his cock.
Wishing it was you.
“C-close, close, I’m so close. Steve, I’m co—oohhh—”
Your orgasm rushed in, plowing through your body, making you lose all sense. You squirmed wildly in Eddie’s lap, almost having forgotten he was there until he reached around to give both of your nipples one last pinch—knowing how it always pushed you further over the edge.
Steve’s lips never left your clit and his eyes never left your face as he ushered you into your climax. He stared up at you, his eyes all glassy and round, searching for your reassurance as he rose from between your legs. His face hovered in front of yours and he lifted a hand to cup your jaw, his massive palm warm on your flushed skin as you panted to regain your breath.
“Good?” he asked. Hushed, like a prayer.
“So good,” you exhaled, chest still heaving. Your voice wobbled as you spoke, so overwhelmed with all your buried feelings being dredged to the surface. “Steve, that was—”
“Steven? Are you out here?”
Every hair on Steve’s head went flying as he whipped his head around hearing his mother’s voice. Through the sheer curtains, he could see her as she stepped outside onto the porch, peering into the darkness, wrapping a fur stole tighter around her elegant cocktail attire.
Panic struck his face like lightning, his mouth hanging open, his lips and chin still shiny with your spend. He looked back at you, his cheeks nearly as deep red as the velvet ribbons hung all over his house. You scrambled off Eddie’s lap to stand, frantically straightening your dress and hair, nervously wiping at your lips that were swollen from biting down when you came.
“I, um…the party’s probably over,” Steve said. “I just have to say goodbye to some people.”
He ran his hands through his hair a few more times as he strode towards the door, even though any damage you’d done grabbing it must have been righted by now. You looked over at Eddie, your own eyes swirling with questions you were terrified to hear the answers to.
His shoulders bounced, standing to tuck his shirttail back into his dress pants.
“Well, that’s one way to do it.”.
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Steve was waiting in the foyer with you and Eddie’s coats when you snuck in from outside. His parents, thankfully, were too occupied giving the caterers instructions for clean-up to exchange any pleasantries at the door. You could only imagine how that would go…
Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. I’m the girl your son made come all over his face in your pool house. What a lovely party, thank you so much for inviting us.
There was still a smile on Steve’s face, though it felt almost pasted on now compared to his expression when you first arrived, sort of forced in an attempt to look more normal than he felt. He handed off Eddie’s leather jacket and then held yours open, his eyes remaining glued to you as you turned and pushed your arms through the sleeves. His fingertips trailed along the nape of your neck as he helped straighten the coat on your shoulders, his index tracing its curve all the way to your hairline in a way that felt so intentional it made your skin buzz.
With your ears pounding from your heartbeat thundering in them, you spun around to face him, your lips parted to speak only for no words to come. Because what was there for you to say? Or for him to do? Kiss you? He hadn’t even done that during, would he do it now to say goodbye?
Steve’s handsome face was as conflicted and contorted as your own. A faint blush still dusted along his cheeks and his eyes shone bright from the candlelight coming off the tapers that had burned almost all the way out. At last he drew a breath, and you felt your heart stutter.
“Thank you for coming,” he said softly.
Eddie could barely contain the snort that burst out of him, even as he slapped a hand over his crooked smile and your eyes shot daggers straight into his chest.
You couldn’t get out the door fast enough.
There was only silence as the pair of you trudged along the driveway to the street where Eddie had parked his van, the snow on the ground having melted into slush mottled with gray where it mixed with excess oil on the road. Without the glow of the Christmas lights coming off the rest of the houses in the neighborhood, the darkness of Steve’s street now felt oppressive. 
It made you walk a little quicker to the van, your hand curled tight around the passenger side door handle waiting for Eddie to unlock it. As the two of you climbed inside the cab, he cranked the engine and flipped open the air vents for the heat to blast, finally breaking his silence as you yanked your door shut behind you with a sharp tug.
“Look, I’m sorry. Okay? I thought I was helping,” Eddie muttered, his hands gripping tight around the steering wheel. “You were being so fucking obvious, I thought you needed a push.”
His chunky rings glinted in the street light as he busied himself messing with the radio, static scratching in your ears as he searched for something besides Christmas music.
“Are you really mad?” he asked, still fiddling with the dial, barely able to look at you. 
You shook your head.
“I just…I don’t know, I feel like it’s weird now.” You let your face fall into your hands and shook your head furiously. “I mean, was that totally fucked up? To do that?”
“Nah, that wasn’t fucked up,” Eddie said assuredly. 
He sounded confident enough that you let your shoulders actually relax and finally expelled the breath you were holding. The relief was short-lived though, when Eddie piped up again.
“I’ll tell you what might be, though.”
With a heavy sigh, you looked over at him warily. “What?” you asked.
Eddie sighed as he slumped back against the seat. His foot rested on the gas pedal and he pressed it down lightly, barely revving the engine to get some hot air flowing from the vents.
“When he comes over for Christmas Eve.”
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Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate any time taken to read/comment endlessly ♥️
Started on this last year in December so that should tell you everything you need to know about my writing process. Enjoy some Christmas in whatever-month-you’re-reading-this. 😉
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vampsywrites · 1 year ago
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I — i remember her hands, and the way the mountains looked.
Synopsis: In which the Sullys approach the mountain clan for sanctuary. The Olo'eykte agrees but proposes one condition: Toruk Makto's eldest son must be promised to her daughter. Surprisingly, instead of the solemn response one would expect, Neteyam agrees almost instantaneously.
Tags: Female! Mountain Na'vi! Reader, Arranged Marriage, Sun & Moon couple, Strangers to Lovers, Neteyam is whipped
Word Count: 2.4k | AO3 LINK
SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >
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"With the return of the sky people, our journey led us far, far up the horizon, where a towering mountain stood. Beyond the winding paths of its rocky terrain, nestled in the heart of nature's embrace, lay the village of the Iuva'ri clan—the ikran people of the mountains.
Iuva’ri was a beauty which both awed and intimidated those foreign to it. The village was tucked deep in a sheltered valley, bathed in the warm golden glow of the setting sun against the snow-capped peaks. A sanctuary hidden from the outside world. A perfect place for us to disappear without a trace.”
Flutters of the ikran's wings echoed loudly through the crisp air, alerting the people of their arrival. The once peaceful ambiance of the secluded village turned into a stir of commotion. Warriors sounded their horns, their urgent calls spreading like ripples through the village. The sight of the newcomers had ignited a sense of both curiosity and apprehension among the villagers, for rarely did travelers venture into their remote home.
As the crowd gathered at the center of the village, their gazes fixed on the newcomers, a mix of intrigue and wariness painted their expressions. Jake dismounted from his ikran gracefully, gesturing for his family to do the same. Neytiri's hand instinctively moved towards her bow, a hint of concern in her eyes. But before she could react, Jake rushed to stop her, his expression urging caution.
"Don't. Leave it," he murmured lowly, gently easing the weapon away from her grasp and tucking it back into the banshee's pouch. His mate sent him a disgruntled look in response but made no attempt to fight his decision.
"Alright. Come on," with a wave of his hand, Jake began to lead his family into the village, arms spread at his sides in an attempt to appear as docile as possible. "Let's be nice."
Neteyam followed in his father's footsteps, carefully observing his surroundings as he ascended the treacherous mountain slopes. His calculating eyes swept across the rugged terrain, taking in the awe-inspiring beauty of the snow-capped peaks and the vast expanse of the chalky landscape.
As they climbed higher, the air grew colder, and Neteyam shivered from the biting chill that enveloped them. The icy wind gnawed at his bones, and he pulled his shawl closer around him, seeking any respite from the relentless cold. This mountain was a stark contrast to the warm and humid forest he was accustomed to, and he felt the tingling sensation of numbness spreading across his exposed fingers.
As he navigated through unforgiving terrain, he found himself yearning for the comfort of home, longing for the lush green forest that offered a familiar warmth. Despite his reservations about this desolate place, he remained silent, his lips drawn into a tight line as he focused on the task at hand.
His attention was momentarily drawn away when a low whistle lanced through the air. Tilting his head up, Neteyam's gaze followed the sound, and he watched as a banshee glided gracefully through the skies. 
With a thud, the beast landed before them, sending a thick cloud of dust into the air as its rider dismounted. The rider was a tall, elderly woman, her midnight black hair contrasting against her milk blue skin. Her frosty eyes scanned their features, taking in every detail with a sharp intensity. A thick coat of fur was draped over her shoulders, and a billowing cape trailed behind her as she sauntered towards them, her expression a mix of curiosity and caution.
“Olo’eykte Ìumayi,” Jake bowed his head low, fingers extending from his forehead in a gesture of welcome. “I see you.”
Neytiri too bowed her head, gaze drawn to the ground as she murmured out her greeting, “I see you, Ìumayi.”
The woman continued to remain silent, circling them like vultures. Neteyam stood firm in his spot, his eyes never leaving the chief’s stalking figure.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she broke the silence, her voice dripping with a leering caution, "Why do you come to us, Toruk Makto?"
Neteyam observed his father's reaction to the title, noting how he tensed up and his face contorted into an unsightly grimace. Given that the Iuva'ri clan's culture revolved around their sacred bond with Ikrans, it came as no surprise why his title held such immense significance to them.
In contrast to her husband's visible unease, Neytiri stood tall, her demeanor unyielding as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"We seek uturu," she declared.
In response to Neytiri's words, Ìumayi whipped around violently, her expression hardening as she directed a stern glower towards them. "Uturu?" she questioned sharply.
“Yes,” Jake affirmed. “Sanctuary. For my family.”
The people around them erupted into a hushed, agitated chatter, but the chief was quick to silence them all with a snap of her fingers.
“We have heard tales of your times at war, of your blood from the sky people, and of the victories that have earned you praise among many Na'vi," Ìumayi spoke with a measured tone, her voice heavy. "But my people are not at war. I apologize, but I cannot allow you to bring your bloodshed here."
Jake's response was immediate, a mix of desperation and determination evident in his voice as he hurriedly spoke, "I'm done with war," he asserted, lowering himself to scoop up Tuktirey into his arms. The little girl sought refuge in the safety of his embrace, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. "I just want to keep my family safe."
Observing the tender scene, Ìumayi's stern exterior softened slightly, her warm eyes studying the family before her. Bowing her head in contemplation, she took a moment to weigh the consequences of her decision, fully aware of the significance of this encounter. With a heavy sigh, she finally lifted her head and made her verdict, "I will allow it."
The relief that washed over Jake was palpable, but before he could express his gratitude, Ìumayi raised a bony finger, signifying there was more to be said.
"I will allow it. On one condition," she continued, her gaze now turning towards Neteyam, holding him with an inquisitive gaze. "I understand you are the eldest, correct?"
Neteyam acknowledged the chief's attention with a nod, his heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
With a wave of her pale hand, Ìumayi turned to the crowd before her, calling out a name as she gestured for someone to come over. The crowd parted instinctively, revealing your figure. As you stepped closer and closer, Neteyam found his mouth growing dry once he fully took in your features.
Inky jets of midnight-black hair cascaded over your shoulders like a shimmering waterfall, adorned with an enchanting array of bioluminescent gems woven into each braid. Your skin, a mesmerizing hue of cool blue, appeared as though it were delicately bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. Jagged, milk-white stripes adorned your limbs and face in an intricate pattern, reminiscent of a celestial canvas. It was as if the very hand of Eywa herself had delicately painted them onto you.
“This is my eldest daughter, Y/N," Ìumayi spoke with pride, gently guiding you to stand by her side, a strong, protective arm enveloping your shoulders. "With the recent passing of my beloved mate, she has stepped forward, assuming the role of Tsahìk."
You took a moment to study their curious expressions, your eyes reflecting an understanding for their situation, “It is a pleasure to meet you all.”
Neteyam stood in awe, watching as you gracefully acknowledged and greeted his family members. The solemnity of your father's absence was palpable, but your calm welcome brought a glimmer of warmth to the otherwise tense atmosphere. And as you turned to face him, the warrior felt his heart leap to his throat.
“Neteyam,” you called out, his name dripping off your lips like a sweet, thick syrup. The Omatikayan watched intently as you curled your fingers, tracing your hand up from your chest up to your forehead before extending it out towards him, icy gaze piercing through his very being, “I see you.”
Fuck.
Neteyam feels his mouth go slack, skin breaking out into a cold sweat as a rich, deep warmth spreads through him. It was a simple greeting, no more. You were merely welcoming them into your village—Trying to be courteous. And yet, why is it that the way you were looking at him left a searing burn in his chest? Twisting at his heart and sending his pulse into a rapid thrum until he could barely breathe?
Both Lo’ak and Kiri observed his reaction with amused grins. To knock him out of his trance, Kiri roughly shoved at Neteyam’s side, gesturing towards your awaiting figure. Almost immediately, he grounds himself, cheeks burning into a dark indigo.
"Tsahìk Y/N," he uttered shakily, his fingers clumsily returning the respectful gesture. His heart pounded blaringly in his chest as he gazed at you, trying to steady himself in your presence. "I see you."
Your smile, gentle like a soft breeze, acknowledged his greeting before you turned your attention back to your mother.
"I have reason to believe that this meeting with Toruk Makto's family is fated," your mother spoke out, "Many nights ago, before his death, my mate was blessed with a vision from Eywa herself. In the sacred embrace of dreams, the spirits revealed to him a profound prophecy of two clans uniting as one—a woman and a man forging an unbreakable bond."
The words of their chief hung in the air, and a hushed silence fell over the gathering as the significance of her statement registered with everyone present.
"As you all know," she continued, her gaze sweeping across the crowd, "I am not getting any younger, and my time draws nearer to its end. And I remind you all that the weight of this responsibility was not one I bore alone; a Tsahìk needs an Olo’eyktan by their side."
A moment passed as the implications of her words settled into Neteyam's mind, and then realization dawned on him.
"This vision bestowed upon my mate," she began, "is not to be taken lightly. It is a direct call from Eywa herself, and as I stand before you today, I believe that the very individuals foreseen in that vision are here before us."
Ìumayi's gaze locked onto Neteyam, her eyes seeming to peer into his very soul. "With Eywa's guidance," she continued, "I propose a union between my daughter and Toruk Makto's eldest son."
The people around them erupted into chaos, their voices rising in a cacophony of opinions. Some had cried out in agreement while some were outraged at the idea of an outsider leading the clan. And as the concerns of his parents too filled the air; Neteyam felt a tumult of emotions within him. He knew their apprehensions were driven by love and care, yet there was an unexplainable energy surging through his veins, compelling him to step forward, to embrace the path laid out before him.
Before he could fully process the weight of his decision, his lips moved with a life of their own, the words escaping him faster than he could think, "I accept."
The crowd falls deathly silent at his declaration.
As the weight of his own words settled in, a storm consumed Neteyam. Accepting this union had been an unforeseen choice, one he had never anticipated making. It led him down a path he had never imagined walking, and uncertainty clawed at the very core of his being. 
And yet, as he turned to look at you, he found these worries falling silent. The sight of you ignited a surge of emotions within him, an overwhelming rush that defied comprehension. It was as though an irresistible, magnetic force was drawing him closer to you, as if every beat of his heart called for your name.
The warrior heaved a sigh, lowering his gaze to the ground and bowing his head as a gesture of respect to your mother.
“I am willing to accept this union," Neteyam affirmed, his eyes flickering back to meet yours, "Only if she will have me.”
Lo’ak's lips twitched, a hint of a grin threatening to break free, but he bit down on his lips, holding back the laugh that threatened to escape. His gaze met Kiri's, and they exchanged a knowing look, both equally amused and astonished by their older brother's unexpected behavior. Neteyam had always been the pillar of stability and composure in their family, making his impulsive acceptance of the proposal all the more surprising.
Lo’ak turned to glance at their parents, noticing his mother's eyes which were wide with concern. It was evident that she wanted to say something, but their father subtly pulled her back, silently urging her to hold her words for the moment.
Neytiri took a moment to study Neteyam's face, the resolve and determination etched across his features. Their gazes locked, and she saw a depth of conviction in her son's eyes that she hadn't witnessed before—a fierce certainty that he had made the right choice, even if it was sudden.
In that moment of silent understanding, Neytiri nodded her head, her concerns momentarily quelled. "If that is what he wishes," she said, her voice softening with acceptance, "we will support him."
Ìumayi’s smile grew slightly wider, her eyes shimmering with approval as she turned her attention to you. "Good. Now, ma’ite, what say you?" she inquired, her tone gentle yet expectant.
The world around you seemed to blur for a moment as you locked eyes with Neteyam, the unspoken bond between you both intensifying.
From the days of your childhood, you had already accepted the prospect of a planned marriage, or at best, one founded on companionship. To you, as long as your partner proved amiable and undemanding, it would be enough. And yet, you could not have even begun to imagine that you would end up in a marriage with Toruk Makto's son.
In the face of the unexpected proposal, you responded with a firm nod, your voice steady with conviction, "If Eywa wills it, then I shall accept as well."
The sight of Neteyam's smile and the exuberant whip of his tail around his feet brought a surge of unforeseen warmth to your heart. The moment felt surreal, like a dance with destiny that had been set into motion long before this day. Perhaps, just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad after all.
Your mother nodded, her expression reflecting satisfaction and pride.
"Then it is settled," she declared firmly, "Toruk Makto and his family shall stay with us, and his son shall be promised to my daughter. We'll teach them our ways and treat them as our own."
“May Eywa bless their path."
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lazyjellyfish300 · 12 days ago
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by the moon 🐺
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Synopsis: the story of you, the daughter of a village baker and how you came to fall for the mysterious Atsuya Kusakabe who harbors a dark secret that plagues him every full moon. One problem: you're betrothed to Naoya Zenin who you do not love. 🌕
Banner/divider cred: @/saradika-graphics
Words: 9.3k (I can't believe it either tbh)
CW: x FEMALE! READER, MINORS DNI, SMUT, P IN V, LOSS OF VIRGINITY, MASTURBATION, CUNNILINGUS, SUI IDEATION MENTION, PET NAMES(PRINCESS, SWEETHEART, ETC) SOME HISTORICAL MISOGYNISTIC ATTITUDES, DARK CONTENT, DUB CON, POSSIBLE NON CON JUST IN CASE, IT'S NOT TOO CRAZY BUT PLSSSSS TAKE CARE IF YOU'RE SENSITIVE. INFIDELITY , BITING, WEREWOLF! KUSAKABE, KNOTTING, BREEDING, PREGNANCY, ROUGH SEX, SPIT, CUM, CREAMPIE, NAOYA SUCKS, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP WITH NAOYA, CONTROLLING BEHAVIOR, NEAR DROWNING, VIOLENCE, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, ANGST, FLUFF, NON GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF KILLING ANIMALS
A/N: for the amazing Monster Mash event hosted by the incredible @nanamiscocksleeve . Thank you sooooo much for having me!! 💕💕 HAPPY SPOOKY SEASON! 🎃👻 And ty to @actuallysaiyan for being my source of inspiration for my first go round writing werewolf smut. 💕😩
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Snow in October was rare, yet the quiet beginnings of the unexpected snowfall began to dust the ground, the shimmery white blaring against the deep orange and green of the forest.
You tugged your blanket tighter around you as though you could sense the bitter chill directly through the frosted window of your new manor house, its unforgiving walls causing your mind to wander far off elsewhere during this same time of year, five years ago...
He was the first and only man you ever loved, and the way you met him was entirely by accident.
The riverside village you grew up in was quaint, surrounded by trees with the innumerable evergreens of the deep forest just on the outskirts.
Despite its charmed exterior, its inhabitants were gossipy, prone to mob mentality, and rather superstitious. One stray rumor quickly added kindling to the fire of another like a domino effect, leaving the poor victim scorched and shunned. And although you knew better, something about you always yearned for something greater outside the small minds of your town, the daughter of a mere baker.
Day after day, smoke and chatter filled the small streets as merchants hustled for a living. Farmers ushered livestock, fish were gutted, and business carried on as usual. Preparations were well underway for winter's timely arrival as the village made haste to meet this year's quota to avoid famine.
A large chunk would go to House Zenin, led by Naobito, the ruling Lord of the region who lived on the other side of the mountains. An early frost like this caused winter's kill to afflict the vast river and the population of fish, putting many livelihoods in jeopardy.
This unsettling pressure was tangible in your interactions with the locals, including your father who was more short tempered than usual as the orders for bread came in quicker than he could fulfill.
So, you did what you do best which is run away into the forest despite numerous warnings and disapproving nods from your neighbors not to wander off, especially during the heart of October when the full harvest moon's appearance would happen like clockwork. This would could give way for a completely new problem that plauged nightmares and local legends:
Lycanthropes.
This year in particular coincided with a blue moon.
The issue of a werewolf had not haunted the village in hundreds of years. Though, with this blue moon on the horizon, it only fanned the flames of unrest, villagers insisting the Gods must be angry due to this year's scarcity and were sending a werewolf as penance for their grievances.
However, some took this opportunity to indulge in the fascination behind the supernatural and trade old stories around the fire during the harvest festivities, hearty drunken laughs echoing from the bitter ale.
You supposed, as you thought to yourself as you sauntered through the expanse of the forest floor along the twig laden paths, that coming face to face with a werewolf wouldn't be all that terrifying.
Who's to say those beasts weren't capable of feelings or just as fearful of humans as they were of them? You thought it thrilling to run underneath the moon and be chased by such a creature. A creature that ran on two legs like a man with claws and sharp teeth, big and strong. Easily overpowering you. Something oddly alluring about the primality, the taboo behind the uncertainty of what he'd do to you when he caught you. You, his helpless prey he'd rip out every corner of the forest that concealed your sweet, sweet scent away from him...
But all of these things, you surmised, would land you directly in the village looney bin had anyone else accessed your thoughts.
As you wander, you don't realize you're being watched until your observer makes himself known.
"Village is that way, miss."
You whirl around, eyes widened when you're greeted with the stern gaze of a young man who was weathered and rugged like someone much older, eyes a shade of brown that competed with the intensity of the bark of trees that surrounded you. Bushy brows that almost met in the middle, dark spiky hair, and a sharp jawline that framed his handsome face.
"I'm sorry -I'm..." You hesitate. The first rule not to wander in the forest, already broken, soon to break the second of not speaking to strangers as well.
"I'm not looking for the village..."
Atsuya Kusakabe tilts his head. You were like a lost fawn. A dead one if your survival skills and sense of judgement were truly as poor as his prior observations of you led him to believe.
"Do I know you?" You prod, eyes searching his face attempting to jog your memory. "Wait, I think I know you..."
Kusakabe looks away, trudging silently towards his cottage that was tucked further down the path, towing a wooden cart with fishing tools and you stumbling behind him.
"You're...are you....you're the Kusakabe boy?"
You had heard rumors of the scorned family, who, many years ago were banished after the mother was thought to be a witch. The fate of her young son remained unknown, until now.
Your eyes catch a glimpse of one particularly long scar that adorned his forearm. He takes notice and unfurls his sleeve down in response.
"Ya really shouldn't be out here. If ya turn back now, you'll be home before sunset." He shoots an annoyed look at you when he realizes he won't be rid of you so easily. "Seriously, you're not concerned about your safety at all?"
"I am, I just—"
"Jus' what?"
You shrug. "I like being in the forest. It's better in here than it is out there."
"Really, a girl who likes being in the woods?" Kusakabe's eyes narrow as you approach the small cottage together.
"Yeah. I mean it's not so far fetched. My dad's insufferable. The villagers are annoying. The girls my age want nothing to do with me and the boys my age are all painfully rude and arrogant. It's much better in here where I can be alone."
"Well, get used to it, princess. In here is no place for someone like you."
"Someone like me?"
"Yes, you. You're delicate." His eyes briefly appraise you again.
"I'm not made of glass."
"Oh really?"
"Really."
Kusakabe scoffs. "You're one of those proper girls. Ya know the ones that spend all their time reading books? The pretty ones that always get married off to some rich bastard Lord an' have a bunch of babies."
You couldn't help but remain stuck on the fact that he called you pretty as he turned his back to you, stowing the cart in a shed adjacent to his cottage.
"Well, you're wrong about that. I'm not getting married to any Lord." You straighten up.
"Right, we'll see about that." Kusakabe leans boredly against the shed.
Silence persists for a moment and you try to think of a way to prolong this encounter.
"You're a fisherman?"
"Ya."
"Where do you fish? I've never seen you at the river." You lean on your hip, eyes trained on his.
"I don't go to that river." Kusakabe folds his arms.
"Why?"
He clears his throat, his family history flashing briefly in his mind. "For reasons..." The pause in his voice contains an indiscernible pain behind it. "I go to the lake on the other side of the forest."
"There's a lake?" Your curiosity is piqued.
"Ya? Ya never seen it?"
"Well, maybe you can show me one day?"
"Not a chance, miss." A smile tugs at his lips after thinking for a moment longer. "Okay.... Maybe. But I wouldn't be doing all this for free."
You think carefully. "How about some bread? And in exchange you show me the lake and the ins and outs of the forest I don't know about."
Kusakabe's stomach inevitably grumbles. It had been so long since he tasted bread, having been exiled from the village so long ago. Such things were a luxury to him. He can't help but agree.
"Deal." He notices the sun beginning to dip in the sky. "But seriously, get going, princess. Night's just gonna get darker." He reaches for a lantern that sits on the gate in front of the cottage. "I'll walk with ya."
You walk together, chatting the whole way while he silently listened, fighting to disguise the faint ghost of amusement on his face as you incessantly speak, recounting stories from your childhood, what you ate yesterday, your theories on how the universe came to exist while he escorts you to the forest's edge.
"Well, here ya are, miss. Have a g'night."
"Goodnight, Atsuya."
He smiles, his name was warm when it fell from your lips. His first pleasant interaction with someone his age for the first time in years. He can't shake you from his thoughts that night as he wanders away in silence.
And so, this became a routine. Every afternoon after your studies, you'd run off into the woods until sunset, winding and finding your way back to Kusakabe, greeting him cheerfully with a biscuit or roll. Talking for hours and hours about everything and anything, this blossoming friendship between you two. He couldn't place it, but something about the promise of you jovially running down the path to see him every day became his motivation to let his feet hit the floor in the mornings.
Your father begins to notice, becoming more cold and harsh than usual.
"I don't know what you're up to, but it needs to stop, missy, you hear me?" He scolds you one evening.
"Winter is coming and you're off galavanting in the woods like usual. If you put half as much effort into lazing off as you did making yourself more suitable for marriage, then perhaps we wouldn't find ourselves on the brink of bankruptcy."
You went to bed that night with tears in your eyes, relentlessly tossing and turning as sleep evaded you. Marriage wasn't for you. Or at least your father's idea of it. Loveless and transactional, selling you off to the highest bidder.
You got up in a rush and promptly put on your cloak, off to the woods once again to see Kusakabe despite your better judgement.
Unknown to you, your father hired a group of young men from the village watch guard to keep an eye on you. You despised them and their leader just so happened to be Naoya Zenin, son of the renowned Lord Naobito.
You heard rumors that you were one of the prime choices among the young ladies in the village to be his bethrothed, but everything about him made your skin crawl.
He was rich and handsome on the outside, but the ugly innards of his heart overrode those two things completely. Callous and cruel with a particular sadistic liking for torture, you vowed to stay as far away from him as distance would allow.
The feeling that Kusakabe gave you compared to him was night and day.
Naoya snickered from his tent as he watched your candle disappear into a clearing, nodding for two of his accomplices to follow.
"Let's see where the little brat is off to this time."
"If we're lucky, we'll get to watch her get eaten by something."
Naoya chuckled darkly, "Now, that's no way to talk about my future bride." A smirk painting his loathsome face as he watched you scurry into the night.
-----
"Kusa!"
Kusakabe jolts awake inside his small cottage, heart pounding in his chest when he sees a small flame outside his window, answering you with a wave of disbelief mixed with excitement.
"Hey! The hell're ya doing out here..?"
"I had to see you."
Kusakabe nods and immediately brings you inside, glancing cautiously in both directions. The darkened silence of the forest putting him at ease as he closed the door behind him.
"My father's driving me crazy..." You sigh as you strip your cloak off, landing in a heap beside the modest fireplace and planting yourself onto the rocking chair beside it.
Kusakabe realizes this is the first time the entirety of your beauty became revealed to him, the shadows from the fire painting an air about you that was rather bewitching. No sooner does the thought enter his mind than he banishes it completely.
"Tell me 'bout it."
"He wants me to get married." You tell him with a sigh. "He doesn't care if I'm happy or not. I feel like my whole life is being decided for me and it's so, so unfair..."
Your lip trembles and Kusakabe has to resist the urge to pull you into his arms. The surgence of his feelings he had been in denial about for some time making themselves apparent at last when he lays eyes on your precious tears.
"Hey..."
Your soul flares alight when he crouches down next to you, a supportive hand resting on your thigh. You twitch slightly and Kusakabe waits, thinking perhaps he was too forward, but then you do something that surprises him and you collapse into his chest entirely with a broken sob.
"Kusa...Kusa...hold me..."
Kusakabe raises his hands in surprise but then melts completely as he pulls you into his lap and into a protective carry against his chest.
It was only now that you realized how truly strong he was. He sets you gently down on his bed just on the other side of the room, rocking you back and forth, his brow furrowing as he squeezed you a little tighter.
"M'here, m'here.... m'holding you angel, I've got ya..s'okay....s'okay..."
Your quiet cries dissolve into hiccups as you stare over Kusakabe's shoulder, calmness starting to settle in, realizing being wrapped up in his arms was where you wanted to be all the time.
"Shh..." Kusakabe closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of holding you at last. Warmth traded between you both with every passing moment.
He pulls away for a moment, keeping both of his large hands on your arms, running them up and down slowly and searching your face before he brings a careful hand to your face. The right, followed by the left as he gently swipes at the wetness under your eyes.
A loud hiccup exits your chest and he can't help but smile at the adorable sound.
"Feel a little better now, sweetheart?"
"I *hic* ....sort of..." You sniffle.
"Hey, s'alright..." He murmurs. You notice his lips part a little bit as he takes in your features, an irresistible warmth that starts to creep up between you two that made the air undeniably foggy.
He whispers your name, "...tell me somethin'.."
"Yes?" You straighten your back. "Yes, Atsuya?"
He hesitates, then abruptly decides to take the leap. "You...ya like me, right?"
You give him a mildly confused look.."Of course I like you.."
"No, goddamn it, I mean..." He chuckles and looks at the floor in tired defeat. "Sorry, princess. Language. I mean..." He lifts his brown eyes with a sigh, boring into your own. The softest manner he has looked at you dead on the entire time you've known him.
"I mean..." He says gently. "I mean do ya like me, princess? Do ya feel somethin special f'me?"
You have forgotten how to breathe, but this feeling of being breathless was not one you would come to regret. The heat in your face becoming very noticeable to you the longer you gazed at his beauty. This remarkable young man you didn't realize you were in love with until he had the courage to say it out loud.
"If ya do...I mean, like I do for you, then...then you could stay here." He straightens up, the initial fear of confession over with and a fire lit under him as he continued. "I would take care of ya. I could be a good husband to ya, princess. Wouldn't let anything happen to ya.. keep ya safe..."
He brings his face even closer. "And I'd love you for all of my days..." He cups your cheeks. "I'd even ask your father's permission. So what if he hates me. Couldn't live knowin that I didn't at least try for ya."
"Atsuya..."
He sighs, closing his eyes as he gently kisses your forehead. "Please..." Before he carefully presses it against his own, bringing both of your clutched hands to his chest. "Please, tell me ya do, I—"
But he can't speak for the face of a goddess is staring back at him as you blindly lean forward and capture his parted lips in a delicate first kiss.
His hands automatically pull you even closer to him, clutching you against his chest like salvation as he kissed you tenderly in that small cottage in front of the cackling fire.
----
The group of men look nervously at Naoya beside them in the bushes outside, who's watching the whole thing and keeping eerily silent. But they don't have to guess to know he's absolutely seething.
"My...my Lord...." one of them steps cautiously closer before Nayoa snarls and knocks him aside, snatching the torch away from him and striding towards the cottage in a blackout fury, aiming it at the roof.
"My Lord, wait!!!" One of the guard's eyes goes wide when the moon outside begins to peek through the cloud cover.
Inside, Kusakabe's head jerks up in alarm, pulling you closer to his chest when he hears a yell outside his window, cursing when a flicker of moonlight begins to leak through the windows.
Oh no...
He gravely underestimated how soon the phases would arrive on the calendar. The sclera of his eyes begin to darken, before they become bloodshot, his eyes becoming intense and golden.
"Kusa...?" You look up at him in worry, horror painting your face as you see the distressing look on his face, his face twisting into something sinister.
"Princess, listen..." He fights to keep his voice gentle, it's still the one you know, the one that belongs to your darling beloved. You cling to him in worry.
"Atsuya, what is happening...?"
"Ya need to go—"
You yelp as he hastily sweeps you into his arms, running with you towards the back door, the smell of smoke telling you the cottage was on fire.
Suddenly, his whole body feels alarmingly hot, your eyes widening terror when purple and green veins begin to darken under his skin, the muscley sinew bulging, the sickening sound of flesh tightening and nauseating crackle of bones being broken. The veins in his neck throb as patches of thick hair begin to sprout all along his face and arms, his elongating claws pricking and drawing blood which you scream in pain as they knick your skin before he shoves you out into the harsh cold of the night.
"Run..." He chokes out. The last trace of the real Atsuya you fell in love with before he slams the door closed.
You stare in utter disbelief at the cottage, the burst of orange from the fire and shattering glass pulling you out of your state of shock.
"Kusa..." You murmur, darting towards the front of the cottage, utter dread settling over your entire body when you see Naoya and his group of men, throwing rocks and more lit torches on horseback, taunting and yelling in diabolical glee.
"NAOYA...STOP!! PLEASE!!"
You sprint towards where he's standing, laughing at the misfortune. "Don't hurt him!!!"
He sneers at the sight of you. "Get back, you whore. Toji, restrain her."
You yell in protest as the dark man's strong hands lock you against his chest as you kick and squeal to no avail, heart sinking and crying out in anguish when the roof of the cottage collapses, setting the surrounding trees on fire in uncontrolled blaze while the men cheered.
"Atsuya..." You feel a tangible pain of inconceivable heartbreak with a sear in your chest unlike anything you've ever experienced as you could only assume that poor boy was dead. All because of you.
"You...you FUCKING BASTARD!!!!" The grip Toji has on you has loosened just momentarily for you to barrel straight at Naoya, attacking his face, his arms, chest, torso, anywhere you could reach as you tore and ferociously clawed at him like a madwoman.
His anger turns on like a deadly switch as he growls loudly and seizes your arms while you cry out in a mixture of grief, fear, and pain as he overpowers you swiftly and knocks you to the ground, only before his assault began to worsen in a feral rage as he struck you repeatedly in the face.
Before he can strike you again, you shut your eyes as your consciousness teetered on the edge before a blood curdling scream rattles your bones. You open your foggy eyes, the group of men slowly backing away and turning to run away in fear. You weren't sure what you saw, but it could not be anything other than the largest wolf you've ever seen.
Only it wasn't quite a wolf. It stood on its two hind legs, towering ovover a shrieking Naoya as it mauled him relentlessly, the unmistakable squelch of breaking flesh and fleeting drips of blood staining the forest floor.
You hear the yells of men behind you rallying together, charging the beast. He turned his head, yellow eyes and teeth coated in foaming saliva and broken chunks of Naoya's flesh as he snarled wildly at them with the face of your deepest nightmare before you lost consciousness.
-----
That was five autumns ago. You felt tears brim with longing as you gazed out of the window of your lonely bedroom. The harsh bitter cold of outside seemed more compassionate than the firelit halls of your new home as you were slowly ripped out of your daydreams and faced the reality of being betrothed to a man you did not love.
"Woman, look at me when I am speaking to you."
You turn slowly, eyes sullen with defeat as you look up at the scowling face of Naoya, which was now deeply scarred from that fateful night you were just recollecting.
"Yes, my Lord."
"It's about time you addressed me with some respect." He tsks. "You were off in the woods again last night. If you come home at an unreasonable hour again, I will revoke your permission to ride in the evenings altogether. Have I made myself clear?"
Oh, last night.
You usually took your rides in the afternoons. But as the wedding drew near, the haunting of Kusakabe's memory became more unbearable. So, you started taking them at night, riding horseback to the forest's edge under that old tree you and him would lay under all those years ago just overlooking the vast lake, hoping that the moonlight would somehow bring him back to you.
This miserable existence as the forced betrothed to this disdainful man had caused you to check out entirely. Not caring if the hour was late and he found you out. Sometimes, you dared to think death would more kind if the Gods would not let you be with the man you truly loved.
Maybe that night he really did perish and you were chasing a ghost after all this time.
"Yes, my Lord."
He leans over you with gritted teeth. "You will do well to learn your place. We've only days until our wedding and you will honor me. Is that clear?"
When he sees that faraway expression in your eyes, he boils underneath with jealousy. The look of a woman whose heart lies somewhere else.
"That thing is dead. Do you not remember, foolish girl? I killed it this harvest. Its head now rots on a spike outside these very walls."
You did remember. How could you forget the revenge tour Naoya set out on as soon as he healed from the werewolf attack? Scouring the forest with his men and hunting packs of wolves to near extinction you were sure.
He would do everything within his power to make absolute certain that Atsuya wouldn't live to hurt him or steal what rightfully belonged to him ever again, dashing all of your deadened hopes that he would come back for you.
But, when Naoya paraded his last kill in the streets you felt in your heart that it was not really the head of your lost love.
Naoya would sooner switch places with the beast and put his own head on display before he would ever admit it, but, deep down, part of him trembled in fear that Kusakabe still lived and would come for revenge of his own.
Naoya brings you to his eye level. "That so-called love of yours is not coming back. He's dead."
You tremble and you feel your blood run cold as it seems he relishes in your fear and his dominance over you.
"You will give and submit yourself to me fully, whether you want to or not." Naoya's yellow eyes flicker away from you before one last warning. Tears finally spill out of yours with the deafening sound of the oak door slamming shut.
----
The ground breezes past you at the speed of light as you descend deeper and deeper into the forest, the wind biting your cheeks. Thoughts of Kusakabe fills your head as the salty tears blur your vision causing you to momentarily lose your balance, hands tightening the reins as you encourage your horse, faster and faster, akin to your boiling frustration that you knew wouldn't last much longer.
You tread even farther than you've gone before and chart your course to the other side of the vast lake, now putting yourself with more than a few hours journey away from the village. Not that you'd be returning.
When you arrive at the lake overlook, you bring your horse to a halt, breathing out slowly as the peaceful sight of the dark water grounded you. A distant rumble of thunder echoes throughout the valley and the winds pick up, gently sloshing the waves. Determined, you get down, shedding your cloak and boots, walking to the edge of the black sand, as you take in the oranges, reds, and greens of the autumn drenched forest around it and the ashen clouds hanging overhead painting the world almost a grey blue. How fitting to be surrounded by heaven one final time.
You rock back and forth on your toes lightly to settle your mind. You think of him, of Atsuya Kusakabe. Using his face and the distant memory of his rough voice to slowly guide you to fight off the piercing cold of the water around your ankles, then your shins, thighs, and torso.
Living together in your happy place away from where anyone could touch you as your frantic breaths stilled from the chill and you floated on your back on the mild current. Not giving a damn if he was a werewolf or not. Living freely without shame in love. Maybe raising up a family of your own. Belly swollen with his pups. Dreaming of their little faces that bore a mixture of you and him.
All of this, the fleeting enchantment of the forest, the biting murky tides pulling you further and further from the shore, and Atsuya Kusakabe's name uttered from your lips as you close your eyes, unaware of a looming wave before it swallowed you in one gulp.
----
The soothing heat radiating from a small cackling fireplace greets you as you slowly open your eyes. You're groggy, cold, fingers pruny, and damp hair. Your nose and throat feel on fire and your chest aches. A cough rattles from deep inside and you sit up quickly, heaving as you bend over, discovering you're clad in a long sleeved nightgown with several quilts wrapped around you. You feel dizzy and a numb pounding in your head makes itself known.
"Hey, careful. Don't move too quickly all at once, princess."
You whip your head at the voice which you surely thought was from the grave.
"Atsuya....?"
Those oakey brown eyes were just as deep as the day you met him. He stood there, rugged and tall. The years had weathered his appearance even more, but certainly not in a bad way. His hands were more calloused, gruff complexion more tanned with the evidence of working regularly in the sun and crafting his survival in the rough terrain, unshaven stubble along his square jaw. A man.
You stared at him as though he was made of glass. A facade of fog and smoke. You reached out to touch him and he brought his hand to meet your own. "Yeah, it's me..." The wrinkles by his eyes more apparent as he bestows you a caring smile, guiding a small wooden bowl into your palm. "Here, drink this. It'll help with any pain you're experiencing."
Your bewildered expression remained, still unsure if you were dreaming, dead, or somewhere in between. Finally, you look down at the soup with a reluctant approach.
"S'perfectly safe, princess." Kusakabe reassures. "It's chicken broth."
That pet name shudders through you and you recognize it really is him. You rise up quickly and throw your arms around him, almost spilling the broth.
"Jesus!" Atsuya tenses, sets down the bowl, then relaxes as he greets your hug with his own, one of his hands gently holding the back of your neck as he allowed his face to become buried in your hair.
"I thought you were dead..." You whisper as a tear leaks out of your eye followed quickly by another.
He grips you tighter in response. "I missed ya too, beautiful..."
"How...how did you come to live here? What happened that night? The last night that I saw you?" You pull away for a moment and look into his eyes, running your palms over his cheeks. "Why didn't you come back...?"
Atsuya sighs deeply, leaning into your touch and gently removing your hands from his cheeks, enveloping them in his own. "I wanted to..." He closes his eyes momentarily then opens them, his expression more serious. "But first of all, why'd ya come out here by yourself...? The hell were ya doin' on the lake during a storm like that?" His voice is stern but it trembles at his last question.
You take a step back, caught off guard by his question. "I..." You turn away from him completely. "It's..." You hesitate, trying to stop tears welling in your eyes. "I don't really know. I was upset and I just needed to get away..couldn't bear it anymore. Just wanted to feel something." You bring a shaky hand to your face to swipe at the increasing wetness. "Part of me thought you were dead. I was grieving that. But I don't understand why you didn't at least come back to say goodbye. Letting me think the worst when you were here this whole time."
His heart shatters, his guilt the consequence of his cowardice. But he knew he was only trying to watch out for you, as well as himself. He had no desire to worsen relations between him and the village that cast him out.
Even worse if they obtained knowledge of his true secret. One that he was hoping you didn't fully piece together that fateful night. He couldn't love you if he were a dead man after all.
"I heard 'bout the engagement." He said solemnly. Silence drags the moments between you until it's indiscernible how much as passed. He looks at you, trying to muster up a little more lightness to the conversation and change the subject slightly. "Decided ta be somebody's wife after all, huh princess?"
You huff out a little air. "Was hardly my choice." You cross the room back to the chair he sat you in, bringing the quilts back over you and cupping your hands around the warm broth. Kusakabe takes the stool in front of you. "Lord Naoya Zenin can choose any woman he wants for his bride. The wedding is in three days."
A bolt of jealousy courses through Atsuya followed shortly after with a seethe of silent anger at the mention of your fiance. Not realizing it was to him. "Oh..." He clears his throat, trying and failing to disguise his obvious disdain. "Didn't know that..." He looks at you. "Well, congrats, princess. Hope you're happy with him...."
You look at him with that obvious look of love that said the opposite, but you realize you'll have to fake it until you make it. "Thanks, Kusa."
He knows you well enough to know when you're putting on a facade, but right now, he just wants it to feel like old times again when you and him could speak for hours.
"Well, how's palace life, princess? Now that you're a real life princess?"
You giggle, looking down. "Hardly a princess. A Lady, if we're being technical. The beds are nice and the food is better but nobody warns you how boring the Lord's council meetings are."
"Oh?" Atsuya smirks and leans forward on his elbows, making himself more comfortable. His forearms and generous biceps you notice flex slightly as he props his chin on his fists. "Tell me all 'bout it."
And several hours have now escaped as you chatted away by the low fire. You updated him on life as a soon to be member of the ruling class, telling him all about your education, music, teaching him a few phrases in Latin and other local dialects you picked up from your time as a pupil. You discuss again your theories on everything and he soaks all of it up like water to a parched man.
Now it seems like the passage of five years has become irrelevant as this reconnection between you both made it feel like you never left. Darkness is now fully descended upon the forest. You look out the window, realizing Naoya surely would be on his way, scouring the forest when your horse wandered back to the manor without its rider. You could only imagine the the unforgiving consequences he would inflict on you this time for your defiance.
Atsuya senses the shift in your energy, like there was unrest in your soul that was troubling you. He hesitates but then asks quickly without thinking too deeply about it.
"Are ya really happy with him, princess?"
"Hmm? Oh I'm. Well I'm..." You clear your throat before taking a distracting sip of your broth.
"I spared my father and I from the streets. My happiness and personal satisfaction really come secondary to all of that."
Kusakabe's thick eyebrows raise at this new maturity and attitude in you, but he waited as you continued.
"...In addition our land will have a new Lady to rule alongside her Lord and provide him with successors. It is vital to the Zenin clan."
He looks at you, longing brimming in his expression. "But you're not in love with him?"
Alarmed he could apparently read your mind, your lips part. For a moment as you gaze at one another, the space between you feels very thin. Just like it did that night five years ago when you felt the warmth of his lips for the first time.
But, the fear of being branded a whore for dabbling with someone other than your betrothed before your wedding kept you silent.
"Is he good to ya?" Atsuya asks softly. "Does he make ya feel like I could?"
"He...takes care of me, yes."
"But he puts his hands on ya."
You blink rapidly in defense, resisting the urge to cry again. "M-many lords do when it comes to their lady. It's within their right."
"Yeah, but that don't make it right..." Kusakabe says a little irritably.
"Perhaps I should go."
"No." Kusakabe insists, a little harshly at first, then resumes his gentle tone. "S'well past dark now, princess. You're on the other side of the lake. Ya wouldn't reach home til an hour before dawn."
The knowledge he bears of the creatures of the night eats at the back of his mind. "Ya don't know what's lurking out there. Trust me, you're much safer here til the morning."
"No, Kusa please? I'll be alright..." Exhaustion from your near drowning has overwhelmed your body at this point, your eyelids fight to stay open but your fear of your fiance's wrath is still very present in your mind.
"Really, I don't want Naoya to come looking for me out here. I don't want him to hurt you again. I fear what he'll do if he finds out I came here..I can't put you in that kind of danger again, Kusa."
He scoffs. "Your stupid fiancee can't hurt me, princess. And he won't hurt ya. I won't let him, sweetheart."
"Kusa..."
Kusakabe pauses then trembles. His body on fire. He's sensing the changes that are taking place in the clouds in the night sky outside the window. He needs to get you asleep. Now. As soon as possible for your own safety.
He knows it's selfish to keep you here but he doesn't care. Fate brought you back to him and he'd be damned if he let it take you away from him again. Especially to someone as evil as Naoya. The slowly appearing moonlight outside is working against him and he must act quickly
"L-look, princess. Just sleep here til the morning alright? We'll figure somethin out." He looks anxiously at the window then back at you as he manages a coaxing look. "C'mon, let's get ya to bed."
Before you can say otherwise he brings you to his chest, the firmness and warmth of his body all the persuasion you needed to just let him take care of you.
He takes you into another room in his new cottage which is noticeably nicer than his old one, setting you on the bed with a gentle creak and bringing the covers under your chin. The exhaustion works itself quickly into your system and your eyelids become overpowered immediately.
"Kusa, you aren't gonna sleep too?"
Kusakabe smiles, leaning a hand on your forehead. "Course I will, princess. M'just makin sure you fall asleep first."
The moon juts from behind the clouds even more and he swallows nervously. "If ya wake up and notice I'm not here, I'm probably just out getting wood for the fire, okay? Don't panic and whatever ya do, just go back to sleep, alright sweetheart? Promise?"
"Mmmm... mhmmm....." But you're already in dreamland.
He eyes you tenderly one more time, standing up slowly and walking towards the bedroom door, shutting it gently before he crosses swiftly to the threshold. He almost sprints outside before he disappears into the bushes with a pained cry shortly followed by snarls and a haunting howl that rattled through the evergreens.
------
Hours later, a breeze from the wind in the dead of night brushes the cracked window in Kusakabe's bedroom open ever so slightly causing you to slowly rouse from your deep slumber.
The comfort of being where you longed to be for all these years at last rendered you particularly safe and content, so much that the faintest ember of desire began to tingle between your thighs.
You bit your lip, unable to resist the allure brought on by the lingering haze of sleep and the scent of Kusakabe that was everywhere in your surroundings, in his bed.
Your hand slowly snakes down your body, softly gripping your breasts and tweaking your nipples on the way down as you arch your back. You sigh and dig the crown of your head into his pillow, rolling your clit. The air is disturbed quietly by your little pants, your eyes prying open as the arousal gently leaks into a gradual flood. You notice your lover is gone, but remembering his words, you stay where you are. The way your aching pussy is begging for your attention more and more and the smell of him on the pillows immersing you like the real thing is too good not to follow through.
"Atsuya....oh, fuck....fuck me so good, Atsuya..."
You've done this many times, envisioning him so often fucking you for the first time. Only honorable young women kept their virginities intact, reserving them for their wedding nights. According to plan you'd be forced to give yours to Naoya, but you still dreamed of Kusakabe anyway.
Hopeful that one day Atsuya would be the one to make you cum with a shudder of his name. The first man to roam his eyes all over your naked body. Thinking about the sweet agonizing stretch of his cock that quickly bowed to sinful deliciousness while you moaned to make yourself all his.
His pretty drunk little cock slut who was just an innocent virgin before now underneath him in his bed, stretching herself all out on his thick cock who belonged to him and him only. His pussy to cum in and breed.
Your fingers could only take you so far. You moaned sweetly, gathering the pearly slick and working it into your clit, back in, and out.
"Kusa...mmmfuck I love your cock so much....so much, baby..."
You lock down that heavenly spot, shutting your eyes as you see his face so clear as day above you in your mind, his parted lips and sweaty face as he fucked you with everything he had. His heavy, sweaty cock so long and thick and veiny. Fuckkkkk, his hairy body and chest. Picturing him raising your legs and folding you up while his cock had you creaming all around the base as he hit that deep spot inside over and over with filthy precision before you finally snapped and cried out with your glossy juices permanently staining his sheets.
-----
The sweet, sweet honeyed scent of your pussy hits Kusakabe like a train. Immediate sex pollen as it winds its way into his enhanced nostrils and settles deep in his core, his aching werewolf cock and balls swelling with his seed.
Must breed. Must have you tonight. Make you pregnant by the morning so your piece of shit fiance can't have you. Ruin you permanently for anyone else because when a werewolf finds his mate, only death could stand in the way of what destiny declared to be all his.
The moonlight continued to flood the floor of the forest as he sped past the trees in a blacked out lustful haze. Your pussy: wet, silky and soaked in slick the forefront of his mind.
You scream as he bursts into the bedroom, gathering the sheets all around and clawing your way up the headboard at the sight of the nightmare with yellow eyes.
You tremble and shake as cold sweat pops up on your forehead, your poor heart about to give out as it absolutely pounds in your chest, echoing in your eardrums. Absolutely expecting this moment to be your last on Earth before Atsuya would come back to find your mangled bloody body and guts strewn all over his bed like a horror scene.
But, the beast is calm. He edges towards you slowly, a clawed hand reaching out as you felt his warm leathery palm lock around the meat of your calf as you softly whimper.
"P-please....please..."
In one fell swoop, he drags you to the edge of the bed, spreading you wide open, claws like scissors as they shred your nightgown completely. You yelp as the cold air hits your naked body, leaving your nipples pointed and bumpy. You squirm to get away only before he immediately dives into the glistening mess that was still sticky between your thighs. You cry out from the stimulation that hits you like a rock. His rough, hot breath against you, you hear him groan as his large oversized tongue flattens against your clit, recognizing the low tone of your sweet Atsuya.
"Kusa...?" You whisper.
He grunts almost to say yes, too drunk off the immediate taste of your free flowing nectar he had only dreamed and fucked his fist full of cum to for all those years.
"Ffuck...Kusa? Kusa.....ohhhh..." You stared down at him between your legs with wide eyes and jaw open in shock. God, this shouldn't feel that fucking good. This was hundreds of times better than your fingers.
But why, why was your brain firing up your arousal even so as this fearsome thing stared up at you?
He was so hairy and wolflike but his body bore resemblance to a man. Buff and strong and solid as a rock. It intrigued you, it enthralled you. It felt wrong but God the way he was eating your pussy like he had been long deprived, this feeling of utter euphoria felt so fucking right.
If this was what real sex felt like then you'd let him fuck you all the time.
You go slack and grind against the large meaty wet muscle in his mouth sighing breathlessly as he stroked you with it again and again.
"S'right, baby...give yourself to me..." He rasps in between generous licks.
"Atsuya..."
"Fuck, I dreamed of this....fucked my fist s'many goddamn times to this..." He grunts, his claws knicking the insides of your thighs, making you cry slightly in pain.
"S'okay, s'okay... you'll be strong f'me, won't ya, princess?" He lifts his head from your pussy and licks all along the tiny puncture marks, his wolfy drool oddly soothing as he relishes the sweet metallic taste of your blood. "Gonna breed you once you're ready f'me..."
"Atsuya....oh, God..." You run your fingers in his hair and hold on for dear life as he dives right back in. "Kusa...Kusa, r-right there...right there, baby please!!"
His low growls and thick poky hair on his chin tickle your inner thighs as he plunges his tongue even deeper, your tight little hole loosening up for him under all his heavenly treatment. His tongue could almost pass for three of your fingers on its own, gasping as you feel yourself bloom open around him, silky walls coaxing his tongue deeper as he fucked you with it, determined to wring out your second orgasm tonight and his first with you all into his insatiable mouth.
"Don't stop, please don't stop...Kusa, baby..." You tremble and gasp, thighs trembling around his wolfy ears. He pulls away, and you see his monstrous face in all his glory clearly through the moonlight for the first time, sharp canines and the fur around his chiseled chin all drenched and covered in your shiny slick.
"My Atsuya..."
"My beautiful mate..." He whispers, locking your legs around his waist. Between the v lines covered in dark brownish auburn fur, you see his pulsating cock and the biggest breeder balls you've ever seen, the size making you simultaneously tremble and drool. "You're ready to take me..."
"Kusa, please I've never done this..." Your lovely eyes meet his ravenous ones. A swell to his ego rises and his eyes darken, confirming his suspicion that no man had you before. And none ever would except him.
"Oh don't worry, you'll take me, darlin. Trust me, jus' relax..."
The bulbous, swollen tip rubs at your folds. You coo sweetly at this and he decides to tease it a little again, eager to stuff you but realizing he likes it when you get all whiny and desperate when you gush around his cock.
"Yeah? Feel good?" He mutters gruffly, drool dripping down his fangs as he glides his cock in between your loose dripping lips, his throbbing shaft now coated in a new shine of your dribbling juices as he moves and strokes it up and down, the veins of his girth softly nuzzling and prodding at your puffy wet clit with every careful swipe.
"So good...Kusa...so good, baby....mmmm I love it so much..." You moan as you begin to squeeze and knead your breasts.
You're getting greedy. He realizes he needs to do it now, needs to bury his cock deep inside you if he wants this to work and get you pregnant. Wafts of your evident ovulation and heat inhaling through his nose as he begins to push his cock against your entrance.
You mewl and whine as you feel him absolutely stretch you out to new limits. He draws his hips slowly back, letting the back and forth motion spread the built up slick around his cock to act as lube.
"Kusa, I c-can't...so big...you're too big..."
He brings the rough pad of his thumb to your clit, some sweet relief shooting up your spine like electricity and arching your back again allowing him to push his cock even farther inside your deep pussy.
He chuckles. "Haah, really, princess? Lookit how much of me's inside your pretty pussy already..."
He smirks wickedly as he brings a clawed hand to an emerging bulge in your belly, which you realize with eyes widening is the outline of his cock, a feeling of ecstasy sparking between your thighs again when he harshly presses on it, pressure going to your clit which makes you drip around him even more again.
"There..." He licks his lips as a wolfish grin slowly spreads across his face when his meaty cock is nice and fully sheathed inside your squishy cunt, an experimental thrust of his hips elicting breathy pleas from you.
He thrusts deeply, and picks a rapid pace. Every movement intentional, deliberate and intense. Not an inch of him spared from you as he really lets you feel him, stuffs you nice and full with every mouthwatering ridge, vein, dimple and curve of his wolfy cock.
"So warm n'tight.... Shit.... n' it's all f'me..." He growls possessively. "Tell me you're mine. M'the only one that's gonna fuck this pussy, breed ya with my pups n' these...." He cups your breasts, flicking your nipples, the sharp edge of his claws poking your perky buds ever so lightly. "These will be nice n full of milk, my milk...."
"Fuck, I'm all yours, sweetheart... Just wanna give you babies..." You sputter as you feel yourself go dumb on his cock. "Please fuck me, ruin me so nobody can have me, Atsuya..."
"Fuck..."
He snarls and his grip on your thighs is near bruising before he folds them up, now slamming ferally into you in mating press, his heavy balls smacking against your anus. The depth you found him inside you at this angle really put you to the test. But, you were determined to take him, determined to let him make you a mommy and breed you full so Naoya couldn't have you. Be his pretty little cum dump and fill you, fuck you and love you anytime he wanted.
God, you would let him do anything to you.
"M'gonna...m'gonna..." You feel like you're about to see heaven as he pummels into you even faster, shooting thick spurts of cum inside your virgin womb. He bites down on your shoulder and you scream then sigh as you feel his cock twitching madly inside you as his balls emptied. The volume of his cum was so excessive that it leaked out in gobs of creamy silver white, running down your pussy in filthy trails and staining both your pubes with the sticky substance.
Atsuya sloppily licks your shoulder where he bit as he jolts intermittently a few times, making sure what amount of his cum did land inside you went deep enough, his seed surely working quickly already to make you pregnant.
"Mine...mine, mine, mine mine....all fuckin' mine..." The mantra works him up, gets him excited as he begins to pump inside you again.
"Kusa..." You groan from the building ache, but bite your lip and lay your head back on the pillow when he brings his thumb right back to your clit, activating that tried and true spot he discovered earlier.
Something strange happens. You feel his cock harshly throb inside, pulsating against your walls in a way that almost felt like he was vibrating inside you.
"Baby....that-fuck..." You grit your teeth as the sensation spreads like a shockwave against your body. "Kusa...?"
He smirks, moving his long fingers up and down your ribs, sliding underneath your back and gripping the plush of your ass, using it to firmly shove you down on his cock, causing the lewd mixture of cum, saliva, slick, and blood to squelch out of you a little bit with a dirty wet plap.
You cry out and he captures your chin in his fingers, forcing you to look at him. The head of his cock swells immensely, making you feel impossibly full like you're going to be split open. Your eyes widen in horror as you claw at his arms. He nearly crushes you against his chest, grunting as he moves a little bit inside you to provide you with more friction to ease the ache.
"S'okay...s'okay, s'okay. Let it happen baby, fuck just let it happen, gonna make you mine for good, now. Fuck jus, jus, relax, baby, yeah?" He spits on your clit, the area where you're connected an almost unrecognizable sopping mess covered in both your fluids. He rubs your clit again, which works to loosen you up a bit again, however it's bordering on overstimulation.
Sensing your discomfort, he sucks on your breasts, giving you deep, slow thrusts into the practically ocean of cum inside you as the knot nears completion in its formation, doing what he can to distract you from the ache.
He was taking care of you, his beautiful new mate. This had to happen for the ritual to be complete. You were the first human he had ever knotted in, and he wanted to savor every moment since you would be his last.
You sob, nearly passing out from the overwhelming mixture of pleasure, pain, and elation unlike anything you've ever processed in your life. You go limp in his arms, and he runs a hand, bigger than your face over your cheek, smiling when you blink up at him in a daze through your lovely lashes.
"Did so good, my darlin', so good..." He kisses your sweat covered forehead and looks down, attempting to withdraw his cock from the cum plug he built up around your connected bodies, but it remained cemented in place, the knotting complete.
"Atsuya....my love..." You coo weakly.
Warmth floods him from the inside as he pulls you into a loving kiss.
"You're mine now for good, princess..."
----
Your horse was found wandering in distress in the woods the next morning. Naoya set his men out on a blind hunt in fury, determined to find you and drag you home where you would be whipped to unconsciousness, and then Atsuya made an example out of and executed publicly in the streets.
However, he never found such luck. Your soaked cloak and discarded boots were found floating in the lake and his discouraged men called off the search when they believed you were long buried in a watery grave.
----
Months later in the dead of winter, you hugged and stroked your swelling belly, calling your sweet Atsuya over to put a hand over yours where you could feel his two pups kicking inside you.
You looked at him with love stricken eyes as he prepared you some vegetable soup. This was bliss. Tucked in your little cottage deep in the woods far away where nobody could hurt you. Spending your days doing what you loved and taking care of your little dwelling, then being doted on and adored and loved and fucked in the evenings by your werewolf husband.
Rumors had reached you that Naoya never did take a bride, having been murdered in the streets by his own men when they became fed up with his self serving ways. Either way, it didn't matter, but this piece of knowledge that your abuser met his well deserved fate eased any remaining unrest in your soul.
This permitted you to continue in your sphere of eternity in those darkened woods with Atsuya Kusakabe by your side.
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